Of the few things I was allowed to do to Lorena when we were young, touching her breasts and playing with her little nipples were among them. She moan...ed as my fingers found her nipple. She didn't fight to tell me anything again. Instead, she began leaning to the side so she could lie on the bed. We broke our kiss. I looked down at her and I began undoing her blouse completely. She smiled up at me as I peeled back the flaps of fabric to expose her flat stomach which was now covered with a huge. And our knowledge is the knowledge of the entire institute, such as it is. It's kind of a key to the next generation's future that our match-ups be able to procreate without the restraint of a single birthing per female after long attempts at pregnancy. I don't want to brag, but I am one potent guy. We've only tried to get pregnant four times (two times per girl, after all) and I'm batting four for four. No blanks being shot here. The big news, the really big news, is that our second batch. I took a few practice swings, and then stepped up to the plate. I looked at the pitcher and quietly said, "Nice slow lob, right over the plate."The pitch came in — and I missed it.I guess there was a reason I spent most of my time warming the bench.The catcher grumbled, "What the fuck?" before he tossed the ball back to the mound.One more time. Nice and slow, right over the plate.You won't believe how good that crack felt when I hit the ball. I kept willing the ball farther as I ran toward. Of course, his mates think this is highly amusing and join in, so within about ten seconds I'm drowning in this fucking sea of stationary, and they're singing, "Chris is a wanker!" over and over and over a-fucking-gain!Mr Hythe looks up and just tells them to calm down. Doesn't bollock them or anything, just tells them to calm down because he's trying to take the register.So I'm being insulted and attacked, and no-one - no-one out of a class of thirty kids - defends me. I just take it.I just.