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How long? Jennifer thought to herself. How long could she keep this up? She remembered when her life changed. She had wanted it, make no mistake. Yes, she had asked for this--begged for it. Doctors had failed her. All the hormones, all the shots and pills. They gave up. They told her to adopt. But her body ached to feel life inside, growing to become a baby of her own she could hold. Maybe it was selfish, and she knew someday she might do just that, but she hadn't given up.

She had found the old woman in a village in Papua New Guinea, on a side trip during an Australian vacation. The village had been remote, and she was the only white person who seemed to have found it. The village was full of children, and most of the women were heavily pregnant. When they saw her come out of the trees from the airstrip, they seemed to sense what she wanted. Maybe that was the only reason white women ever showed up there. Two enormously pregnant women took her elbows and steered her to a hut in the middle of the village.

The old woman was sitting naked in the middle of the hut, grinding something in a stone bowl. The stone bowl rested atop her breasts, which filled her lap and spilled off to both sides. Her breasts were covered in veins and stretch marks, suggesting that they had been much larger at various times in her life. She set the bowl aside and dusted her hands off. Struggling to her feet, she walked towards Jennifer. Her breasts jostled against her highs. Brown nipples the size of half bananas pointed towards the floor. Jennifer noticed with a shock that they were dripping milk.

The woman put her hand against Jennifer's belly and said "You want." It wasn't a question. Jennifer nodded. The woman stared in Jennifer's eyes. "Tell you, maybe too old? How old?"

Jennifer blushed. "I'm thirty-eight." she said.

The old woman nodded. "Better for young. Start young, know what comes. Start old, can no say. Maybe nothing. Maybe lot much."

"Can you help me?" Jennifer said quietly. The old woman shrugged. "I help. Know that you want. No go back."

"I want it," Jennifer said. "I want to be pregnant more than anything."

The old woman nodded and smiled slightly. "Maybe that you get."

What came next was part witch-doctor, part horror movie. She had to eat a bunch of weird powders. She also got a pretty sizeable amount of ground up gunk stuffed up her privates. After each of these sessions, the old woman held up a breast and made Jennifer drink heavily from her fat nipples. It was bizarre, but she got over her aversions pretty quickly.

There were face-painting sessions, and painting of strange designs on her belly, breasts and around her vulva. This went on well into the night. Finally, the old woman pointed to a straw mat and told her to sleep. Her sleep was filled with insane, sexually charged nightmares, in which giant creatures with animal heads and bodies, all of whom sported enormous erections, came into the hut, caressed her body, suckled her breasts and thrust themselves deep inside her, shooting their spunk into her over and over. She woke up in the morning expecting to find her legs coated in dried jizz, but there was nothing there but the remnants of yesterday's powders and potions.

"Is done," the old woman told her. "Go home."

"How soon before I should, um, have sex?" she asked. The woman shook her head. "You make, now. Keep making."

Jennifer hadn't understood then. She thought that the woman meant she could have sex any time, as soon as possible. She had several weeks left before she went home, so she hoped that was soon enough to find a willing donor. It became clear, though, soon after she got back to Taos that she didn't need to find a sperm donor. She was already pregnant.

Thinking back, she realized she had not seen any adult men in the village. There were lots of kids running around, lots of babies, and lots of women in various stages of pregnancy, but no boys older than about twelve. So how were all those women getting pregnant? She had a funny feeling. The old woman had said "You make now. Keep making." Did that mean she would spontaneously become pregnant without having sex? There was no denying she was pregnant, and she had not had a boyfriend for months.

Yes, she had wanted this, but what, exactly, was "this?" She was only twenty-eight weeks, and her belly was stretched so tight, her uterus filled so enormously, she felt about to burst at any moment. Could she even survive the next several months, when the fastest growth would happen? She remembered what else the old woman had said, about how being older could have unpredictable results. And this was only the first pregnancy. She was now, literally, a baby-making machine, fated to get pregnant over and over. If it didn't kill her, it was a dream come true.

Description
How long? Jennifer thought to herself. How long could she keep this up? She remembered when her life changed. She had wanted it, make no mistake. Yes, she had asked for this--begged for it. Doctors had failed her. All the hormones, all the shots and pills. They gave up. They told her to adopt. But her body ached to feel life inside, growing to become a baby of her own she could hold. Maybe it was selfish, and she knew someday she might do just that, but she hadn't given up.

She had found the old woman in a village in Papua New Guinea, on a side trip during an Australian vacation. The village had been remote, and she was the only white person who seemed to have found it. The village was full of children, and most of the women were heavily pregnant. When they saw her come out of the trees from the airstrip, they seemed to sense what she wanted. Maybe that was the only reason white women ever showed up there. Two enormously pregnant women took her elbows and steered her to a hut in the middle of the village.

The old woman was sitting naked in the middle of the hut, grinding something in a stone bowl. The stone bowl rested atop her breasts, which filled her lap and spilled off to both sides. Her breasts were covered in veins and stretch marks, suggesting that they had been much larger at various times in her life. She set the bowl aside and dusted her hands off. Struggling to her feet, she walked towards Jennifer. Her breasts jostled against her highs. Brown nipples the size of half bananas pointed towards the floor. Jennifer noticed with a shock that they were dripping milk.

The woman put her hand against Jennifer's belly and said "You want." It wasn't a question. Jennifer nodded. The woman stared in Jennifer's eyes. "Tell you, maybe too old? How old?"

Jennifer blushed. "I'm thirty-eight." she said.

The old woman nodded. "Better for young. Start young, know what comes. Start old, can no say. Maybe nothing. Maybe lot much."

"Can you help me?" Jennifer said quietly. The old woman shrugged. "I help. Know that you want. No go back."

"I want it," Jennifer said. "I want to be pregnant more than anything."

The old woman nodded and smiled slightly. "Maybe that you get."

What came next was part witch-doctor, part horror movie. She had to eat a bunch of weird powders. She also got a pretty sizeable amount of ground up gunk stuffed up her privates. After each of these sessions, the old woman held up a breast and made Jennifer drink heavily from her fat nipples. It was bizarre, but she got over her aversions pretty quickly.

There were face-painting sessions, and painting of strange designs on her belly, breasts and around her vulva. This went on well into the night. Finally, the old woman pointed to a straw mat and told her to sleep. Her sleep was filled with insane, sexually charged nightmares, in which giant creatures with animal heads and bodies, all of whom sported enormous erections, came into the hut, caressed her body, suckled her breasts and thrust themselves deep inside her, shooting their spunk into her over and over. She woke up in the morning expecting to find her legs coated in dried jizz, but there was nothing there but the remnants of yesterday's powders and potions.

"Is done," the old woman told her. "Go home."

"How soon before I should, um, have sex?" she asked. The woman shook her head. "You make, now. Keep making."

Jennifer hadn't understood then. She thought that the woman meant she could have sex any time, as soon as possible. She had several weeks left before she went home, so she hoped that was soon enough to find a willing donor. It became clear, though, soon after she got back to Taos that she didn't need to find a sperm donor. She was already pregnant.

Thinking back, she realized she had not seen any adult men in the village. There were lots of kids running around, lots of babies, and lots of women in various stages of pregnancy, but no boys older than about twelve. So how were all those women getting pregnant? She had a funny feeling. The old woman had said "You make now. Keep making." Did that mean she would spontaneously become pregnant without having sex? There was no denying she was pregnant, and she had not had a boyfriend for months.

Yes, she had wanted this, but what, exactly, was "this?" She was only twenty-eight weeks, and her belly was stretched so tight, her uterus filled so enormously, she felt about to burst at any moment. Could she even survive the next several months, when the fastest growth would happen? She remembered what else the old woman had said, about how being older could have unpredictable results. And this was only the first pregnancy. She was now, literally, a baby-making machine, fated to get pregnant over and over. If it didn't kill her, it was a dream come true.