I slammed into her from behind, my cock buried balls-deep in her wet cunt while the camera on the tripod blinked red. "Take it, you dirty girl," I growled, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. "We're making this baby tonight and I'm recording every fucking second."
She moaned loud, pushing back against me. "Yes, husband… fill me up. Record it all like those Malayalam sex stories you play for me." Her voice was thick with lust, the kind that dripped straight from the cheap Bluetooth speaker where a husky male narrator in Malayalam was growling filthy instructions: "Avalude pooril ninte kunna idu… aval pregnant aakanam." The words mixed with the wet slap of my balls against her ass, turning the room into a hot, sticky mess of sound.
I reached down and spread her cheeks wider, watching my thick shaft stretch her pussy lips. "Listen to that voice telling you to take the load. You're ovulating, baby. This is the night." I pulled out slow, letting her see the strings of her juice clinging to my cock before slamming back in. She cried out, her big tits swinging under her as I pounded harder.
The recorder caught every grunt, every squelch. I leaned over her back, biting her shoulder. "Say it in Malayalam like the stories. Tell the camera what you want."
"Ninte vellam ente vayil…
ente pooril… enne pregnant aakku," she panted, the words tumbling out exactly like the audio files we downloaded. The narrator kept going, describing a wife begging her man to breed her, and it synced perfectly with us. I felt her walls clench around me, milking my cock like she was already trying to suck the cum out.
I flipped her onto her back, legs pushed up to her shoulders so I could watch her face while I fucked her deep. "Look at this cunt," I said, rubbing her swollen clit with my thumb. "Soaked and ready for my seed. We're not stopping till you're leaking." The camera caught the way her eyes rolled back when I bottomed out, the way her tits bounced with every thrust.
She reached down and spread her own lips for the lens. "Record this, husband. Record how you help me get pregnant." The Malayalam story hit its peak, the voice commanding the woman to take every drop, and I felt my balls tighten. I fucked her faster, raw and relentless, skin slapping loud enough to drown out the speaker for a second.
When I came, I stayed buried to the hilt, pumping thick ropes straight into her womb. "Take it all," I snarled. "Every fucking spurt. This is how we make our baby." She came with me, her pussy pulsing and squeezing, sucking my cum deeper. I kept the camera rolling while I pulled out slow, letting a thick white trail leak from her stretched hole.
We didn't stop there. I made her get on all fours again for round two, the recorder still going, the Malayalam voice starting a new filthy tale about a husband breeding his wife night after night. I slid back inside her cum-slick cunt and fucked her slower this time, deeper, making sure every thrust pushed my load further in. She begged in both languages, mixing English and Malayalam until her voice broke.
By the third round she was on her back again, legs wide, my cock shiny with our mixed juices. I held the small handheld recorder right up to her pussy while I thrust, capturing the obscene wet sounds. "Listen to this later," I told her. "Play it back while you finger yourself and remember how I helped you get pregnant."
She came again, screaming, and I followed, flooding her one more time. When I finally pulled out, I zoomed the camera in on her gaping, cum-filled cunt, watching it twitch and drip. We left the recorder running while we caught our breath, the Malayalam story still playing soft in the background like a filthy lullaby.
She curled into me, my hand resting on her belly. "Think it worked?" she whispered.
I kissed her hard. "If not, we'll record another session tomorrow. And the next day. Until it takes." The camera kept rolling, capturing the afterglow, the way my cum kept leaking out of her, proof that we'd done exactly what the stories described.
