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It was the kind of old store with rocking chairs on a big wooden porch and old metal signs hammered all over the weathered boards. The creaky old floors reminded me of my childhood days at the old store in my Mom's little hometown.I felt very warm and secure all of a sudden- this had the quality of home almost.
Even after she had called it quits on having babies, she would often point out enormously pregnant women wherever we went.
In her own subtle way, she'd nudge me in the side, glance in their direction and then flash that knowing grin at me.
She would mention the 'sighting' later in bed and watch me grow the biggest hard-on she could fit inside her.
Peggy was stunning- beautiful blue eyes, long blonde hair, legs for miles and a perfectly plump round butt that made her an ass man's dream. "Preggy Peggy" as her friends called her was the mother of eight by her 23rd birthday.
Peggy already had her fun with bringing our kids into the world and now, to quote her: "a fertile valley is the last fuckin' place I wanna go." She was a freshman when we met-not quite 18, and a student in my biology class-part of my dues in the work-study program for my graduate degree. I think we both knew right then we'd made a baby -- well we had actually made two babies. Peter came along right on the heels of the 2nd set of twins, and we got drunk one weekend and produced another set - Melissa and Meagan barely a year later.