“Daddy’s home!” I announce myself before I let the front heavy door drop shut.

Today is Sunday. Today I come home to my crazy, big family of six kids and you, my wife.

It’s been a long couple of days. From Wednesday to Sunday, I was traveling for business so I can pay the bills. When we had four kids, you were still working part-time. But since the twin girls were born, you’ve been staying at home to take care of our brood.

I can hear shuffling, squeals, and then finally, rapid little steps that approach me from the living room. A smile spreads across my face as I anticipate what comes next. My oldest son who has just turned five runs into the hallway. His twin brothers aren’t far behind. They storm towards me. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” is all I hear.

We have six kids: our firstborn boy, twin boys, a daughter, and another girl twin pair. We’ve been very active for the last five years... perhaps a bit too active according to your gynecologist.

I scoop up my firstborn son, hold him against my hip, and then tousle the twin’s hair as they clutch my legs. There’s such a rush of excitement in the air. I love coming home to the chaos of our family. Even if I did enjoy being on my own the last few days, this is what I need. My children, and you around me.

“My troublemakers,” I tease before I see my three-year-old daughter speed across the hallway too. I laugh, put my boy down, and scoop her up next. Then you appear in the doorway to the living room. You smile as you cradle one of our twin girls against your chest; you’re feeding her. Tiny mouth latched onto your nipple. So peaceful…

Our eyes connect for a split second. Last night, when we spoke, you confessed that you’ve been thinking about having another baby. I’d always wanted a big family. Financing six kids was doable. Not a stretch. Not a pain. My family planning was done. You, though… God, you can’t get enough.

I head on over. “Hey darling,” I say and move in to kiss your cheek. You trace your fingers through the baby hairs on top of our daughter’s head. Her sister must be napping.

“All good?” I ask you. I can feel my little girl toddler squirm against my side.

“Mhm…” you hum, our eyes locking again.

For a moment, I get lost in our connection. Another baby? You’ve had six in five years. That’s already insane.

“Dad!” I hear my oldest son call out as he tugs on my jacket. “We want to play!”

I look down at him and say: “Daddy is going to take a shower and then play with you guys, alright?”

“Fine,” he sighs out the word and then runs off again. His brothers follow suit. Such a natural leader, this one.

Alright, time to dive into the craziness… I plant a kiss on the forehead of my daughter and then set her down again. Little pat to her bum. “Off you go, find your brothers.” Half stomping, half running, she takes off too.

“I’m going to put her down,” you inform me and lift our baby girl to gently pat her on the back. “See you in a bit.”

After the seven-hour drive today, I take a much-needed hot shower. My shoulders and neck feel tight, and my head is full of thoughts about what we talked about last night.

Another child. My God…

I am drying myself off when the door to the bathroom suddenly opens. It’s you. Just you. While I rub the towel down my arms, you softly close the door behind you and lock it. I am butt naked. And still wet. Your eyes travel down my front, pausing on my cock hanging heavy between my legs. I haven’t relieved myself while I was away. Five days of pent-up, potent seed is just waiting to impregnate you. If I decide to go ahead with it, that is. I have to be practical. Our breeding kink is one thing…reality is another.

Closing the space between us, you rest your hands on my stomach and look up at me. “Can I have another one?”

Well. Here we go. Fuck.

I’m just about to reply that I’m still thinking about it when you drop your right hand to cup my balls. My thoughts screech to a halt. Lips parted. Oh God. My balls rest heavily on your palm, spilling over the sides. Big, full Daddy balls. I’ve been so horny during the drive back that I almost pulled over to jerk off. But I know you would have killed me if I had gone ahead with it. You’re very possessive when it comes to my loads. You want every single one of them. If I do jerk off, you demand that I collect my come in a cup and place it in our bathroom cabinet. The one that can be locked.

“All those swimmers are just waiting for my egg…” you murmur against my chest, all soft-spoken. I shudder from head to toe, my dick hardening at record speed between us.

“Just one more…” you whisper sweetly. My brain wants to believe you. But I know it won’t be just one more. In fact, you’re so baby crazy that your doctor pulled me aside after you had the twin girls: ”You’re aware that a woman should not conceive again until six months after giving birth, right?”

Well, yes, I am… but Doc, what if she’s milking my seed out of me, harvests it in a cup, and then inserts my load herself when I’m at work? What then, Doc?

Goosebumps spread across my arms and shoulders when you roll my balls between your fingers and weigh them against your palm. “So heavy…” you moan and give my chest a gentle kiss. I blow out a breath as my cock nudges against you, filling further. Giving out an excited little whimper, you squeeze my balls and tug. That’s when my brain goes completely offline.

“I want another baby,” you tell me. It’s not a question this time. “You’ll give me another baby.”

I’m the man of this house. The head of the household. I pay the bills. And yet, when it comes to this, I am powerless. You decide how many babies you’ll have. Ten? Twelve? I know that as long as you’re fertile, you’ll keep having them. And all I can do is deal with the fact that our bills will go up-up-up.

I exhale a shaky breath as you play with my balls some more. Tugging, rolling, weighing. Like you’re examining how heavy they are. Testing whether I really didn’t tug one out while I was away.

“So big,” you mutter. I can feel my cock throb, pushed against you and already leaking at the tip. Oh God, please touch me.

But you won’t. This load is not for a cup. It’s for your cervix.

“When the kids are asleep, you’ll put that load inside me,” you decide. See, I knew it. I crack my eyes open and stare down at you. My mouth is dry; my vision is blurry with arousal.

“And your swimmers will take again. Like they always do, hm?” You gaze up at me, head tilted back to meet my eyes.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. My dick twitches between us, another drop of precum glistening and then smearing against the fabric of your shirt.

Yes. Yes, my swimmers will take. And your belly will grow big and round again. Your doctor will think I am a perv for knocking you up only months after having given birth. To twins. You’ll remain the innocent little angel that you are. And then you’ll do it again. You’ll get me to fuck you. You’ll get me to knock you up. Because the need to breed you now is far larger than any financial trouble we might face in the future…