Unknowledge Of A Modus Operandi
This is the second part of my Unknowledge Of A Modus Operandi novel. I, Alexandre Savoie alias Romantyke, claims to have written and produced this book.
The shock of my birth was over, but there was the worst wave to face by now.
As I was recovering in my hospital room, the flow of visitors was revived from the ashes. First, the medias. In no time at all, newspapers and the TSFs were overflowed with my miraculous childbirth. It also went as far as filling up worldwide front pages.
The second wave was the curious ones. However, needless to say, the hospital personel did not waste any time putting in a rule clearly stating a 'No Admittance if on curiosity business'. Those who did not have, or pretended not to have curiosity business were even rarely granted passage. It gave loads of problems for those having real emergencies.
Then the third wave, the smallest yet not the least. Loretta. Her face was like sour milk. I saw she might have cried, because there were teartracks on her cheeks. She did not speak as she sat down, removed her hat, her gloves and put down her handbag beside her chair. I was having my baby in my arms. He was still awake. He never slept at all for all that week. He had also creeped out several of the nurses.
'I know I should have come sooner, Mordecai, dear, but I simply did not think it would have made your feelings better while you were enduring your pregnancy in here' said Loretta.
Her voice was calm. She seemed to have had her mind set.
'I am not blind anymore.' she continued 'I know what you are. I do not blame you at all. In my heart of hearts, I know being what you are is not an evil thing, no matter what those psychiatrists might think.'
She looked at me in the eyes.
'We won't be getting married any longer, Mordecai.'
I did not know what to say. Loretta bowed her head again.
'I have decided to go back to my family in Vancouver. I guess this is the most logical move I can make, for the both of us. Including your baby here.'
She took a look at my child.
'Have you picked up the name yet?' She asked curiously.
'Nay. I haven't. I have no idea what name to give him. He is a strange baby boy. He never sleeps. He also has a brooding look.'
Loretta had a small smile.
'Does he now?'
Then she bowed her head again.
'I would have wished I had a child with you, Mordecai, dear. However, I could never have given you such a beautiful child as this one.'
'What do you--'
'I am blonde. This should be enough for you, Mordecai. Just remember that what you have now is making you extremely lucky. Your money's wealth, your house and your deeds are nothing compared to what you just obtained.'
'Loretta, I--'
'THIS! This situation may just proves that you might be what so few people are: a pure replica of love. You are a man blessed with the gift of having children with another man. And you are gay on top of it. That is a package deal indeed.'
Loretta smiled nervously. Before I could apologize, she was going on.
'Look, dear, I am not angry at you. I am too kind to bear grudges at all. I will always remain your friend. And my doors are open to you. Just never forget that if we never met, Orounla would not have crossed your path.'
'Where is he now?'
'Well, he is at home.'
Loretta was giving me a sad yet tender smile.
'He waits for your baby at the house. I will stand aside for now. Don't worry, dear. I am all right.'
She stood up, put on her gloves, her hat, and took her handbag.
'Fare thee well, Mordecai. I am sure we will see each other again.'
'Loretta, WAIT!'
'My train is leaving in ten minutes Mordecai, dear. I have to go. Goodbye!'
I was certainly not thinking Loretta was to be so calm about the whole situation. But she was gone now. Was it a relief for me?
Nay... I could not suppress a twinge of guilt as I lit myself a cigarette. The smoke gave me a better mood, however, and I looked at my baby. His eyes were following the red light of my cigarette tip.
April came and I was standing on my doorstep. Orounla was there. Handsome as ever. His ever-there Marlboro Red cigarette dangling from his mouth. His impeccable smoking perfectly wored on.
He had taken his son in his arms.
'My son! My baby boy! Hey, boy!' he was saying, looking into the baby's eyes.
The little one merely stared at the cigarette in his mouth.
'He doesn't seem to be a crybaby at all, isn't he? said Orounla, examining his child's stare with some concern.
'Well, you can be sure he DID creep out every one at the hospital.' I laughed. 'I haven't picked a name yet, though. I was thinking we should pick it together.'
Orounla gave me a tender smile.
'Thanks, my love'.
After a meal, and myself breastfeeding the baby, we put him in the crib placed in the new nursery Loretta had the kindness of preparing before leaving. He refused to sleep. But he resigned himself to be lied down on his back. He merely stared at us with his serious and yet severe look.
We went to sleep in my real bed now. The first time ever. But before the bed sheets were opened, he had turned to me and was looking at me with that provocating look burning with desire. It seemed clear to me the bedroom decorations were not what a Black former slave from poor Africa would think the most important, especially if this was the couple's bedroom.
He started to undress me. He did it very slowly but with tender and precise gestures. His lips were kissing my neck. When it was my turn, I was more clumsy at it, but he did not care. His talents were deeply issuing from his origins.
I lied down on the impeccable bed. I was offering myself to my Black soul mate, all relaxed and without any shyness of my nudity.
He had lied down on me, taking care not to squeeze me under his muscly weight. He had taken me in his arms and kissed me. We kissed softly, without any speed or violence. Our lips were touching each other, our breaths were mingled. He opened his eyes and stared at me. I gave his nose a pinch and he laughed kindly. Then slowly he went down on me. Kissing me all over my body, going downwards towards my penis. The pleasure his thick lips and his red tongue gave me became so high it almost hurted me.
As always I had ejaculated far too soon, but he did not take ill of it at all. The only thing he did after swallowing my sperm was lighting up a cigarette, bowing on me with it dangling in his mouth and make sure I have a clear closeup view of the cigarette and his lips as he masturbated me. The fact that he was Black and having a cigarette in his mouth made me cum again, but it took more time. Cumming slowly allowed us to make a better use of our sexual relationship.
He had lit another cigarette and was lying on his back when my lips had closed again on the fully puffed glans. My hands had their usual positions on the base shaft and the ball sack. My exploration of my man's dick could never end up in exasperation. It remained pure bliss of heaven.
The throbs his dick gave were what kept me going. The softness of the glans was what made me hard. The moaning of Orounla's deep reassuring voice what was made my cock quiver with desire. The taste of the sperm was what gave me the pleasure of before the ejaculation. The storm of ejaculation throbs running through Orounla's Black penis was what made me cum as well.
We had calmed down. I was lying in Orounla's arms. My head on his shoulder. We smoked three cigarettes each. I went to check the baby.
He was looking at the ink-black window. He seemed deeply bored. I came back to Orounla, a bit concerned.
We talked a bit about the boy's name. But no idea would come up. We smoked another cigarette, and the perfect sex appeal of the Marlboro Red gave us a hard on again. We sucked each other once again. I came with less sperm than before. But Orounla's sperm just did never seem to be getting low.
We stayed in bed, still whispering sometimes, but finally we were asleep. The amount of sex we had had drained our energy.
To Be Continued...