Chapter 15

None of the other women knew Betty had spilled the beans to Genevieve until Julie, while at work, heard two customers gossiping about how the Chief of Police’s wife was giving that woman who had twins and one was white and one was black lessons in how to take care of a black baby.

“You mean there’s a difference?” asked one teenage girl.

The other, who said she got her information from her parents, said, “Of course there’s a difference. One’s black and the other’s white.”

Julie, of course, called Betty, who said “Genevieve had found out” without explaining how Genevieve had found out (she knew the others would be furious with her for voluntarily spilling the beans.) Julie made some panicked phone calls and the card club, which hadn’t actually played cards very much since babies started being born, convened. It took practically no time for them to break her down and Betty actually cried when she confessed what she had done. The reaction she got was not what she expected.

“That means she knows about me, too,” moaned Sarah.

“We did not talk about you,” said Betty. “I spent most of the time trying to explain why I chose her son and his best friend to impregnate me. She spent the whole time cuddling Elizabeth. It was Elizabeth who sold her on wanting to stay in touch and learn more.”

“If it was Russell who gave you a black baby, she has to know he gave me Justin!”

“She’s trying to take this in in small bites,” said Betty.

“Why didn’t they come see me first?” asked Sarah. “Justin was the first one born.”

“I think it was my age,” said Betty. “She and I are closer in ages.”

“I knew we couldn’t keep this a secret forever,” said Cathy, “but I didn’t think it would come out for a year or two.”

“What is this going to mean for Russell?” asked Sarah. She already loved Justin so much she wanted Russell to give her another child. She knew that would be unwise. She was having a hard enough time taking care of three children without a husband. Adding a fourth would be insanity. She just loved being pregnant (and getting pregnant) and having babies sucking milk from her breasts. It fulfilled her in a way that brought her contentment. Reggie had said he would share her milk with his new little brother, which warmed her heart so much she almost cried. She had enough for all her children, just like Betty had enough for her twins.

“She’s obviously going to confront him about this,” said Trudy. She looked at Betty. “Who exactly did you talk about with her? I mean which of us?”

“I didn’t talk to her about any of you specifically. I just said there were others who, once they found out what I was doing, decided to ask the boys to do the same for them. I told them it was women who were no longer interested in having a husband, but still wanted a child. That’s all I said.”

“Her husband is the Chief of Police,” said Sarah. “He’s probably investigating, snooping around trying to figure out who we all are.”

“I think he already knows about you,” said Cathy, dryly.

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” said Betty. “We did nothing illegal. Russell and Bobby were above the age of consent and there is nothing anyone can do to them in a legal sense.”

“That doesn’t mean people will leave them alone if it gets out they did it,” said Trudy. “Look what happened to Betty. She got death threats!”

“One death threat,” said Betty. “The others are all just crackpots.”

“Crackpots can follow them around, like the paparazzi do with movie stars, until it drives them crazy,” said Julie.

“I don’t see tons of people outside of Pine Bluffs being interested in a couple of boys who got some women pregnant,” said Betty.

“Gene is,” said Julie. “He’s already told me he’d love to write a book on how this all happened.”

“Please tell him not to,” groaned Cathy. “It’s bad enough that Mrs. Jackson knows. The last thing we need is a bunch of people in town reading a book and talking to their friends about how much that sounds like those women right here in Pine Bluffs.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” said Julie. “He sells a lot of books, but it isn’t likely that Pine Bluffs people read them. I mean Pine Bluffs people are just a drop in the bucket when it comes to the whole reading public.”

“Well, we need to accelerate moving to the commune, just in case,” said Cathy. “Dougie has been pestering me about us moving in ahead of the closing date. He moans and groans about being lonely but I think he just wants a bunch of beautiful women around.”

“He’s a man, even if he’s eighty,” said Trudy.

“I, for one, think he’s cute,” said Sarah.

“You think most men are cute,” snorted Trudy. “If you had your way you’d have a whole litter of children to raise.”

“So?” Sarah sounded hurt. “What’s wrong with loving babies?”

“Nothing,” said Betty. “Back to moving in. Can you all do that?”

“Three of us can,” said Cathy. “All we have to do is move from my house into his. There are commercials on TV all the time about two guys with a truck who move things. If we called them they could come move us any time.”

“Is that wise, though?” asked Betty. “I mean he could still cancel the sale and then he could just kick you out.”

“No,” said Trudy. “When we hired Charlie Rivers to look over the contract, one of the things he said was that there’s a clause about us moving in and paying rent until the sale is complete. The only thing that could stop the sale then is if we cannot secure financing. Since Doug has already offered the financing, he can’t just kick us out as long as we pay the rent. And the title company said they can close on the house in three weeks. He wants us to move in. Why would he then kick us out in the next three weeks? He is lonely and he does want people in the house.”

“I say we do it,” said Julie. “I’m due in two weeks and this baby is doing gymnastics inside me. I would like to move before she’s born.”

“What about Gene?” asked Sarah.

“He has his own house,” said Julie. “I’d want him to sleep over sometimes and he keeps casually mentioning how much better this or that would be if we were married, but I’m still too chicken to pull that trigger.”

“He seems like a decent one, as far as men go, generally,” said Sarah.

“We know not all men are assholes,” said Cathy. “Dougie is another one who’s decent.”

“And Bobby and Russell,” said Sarah.

“All right, so men are allowed as guests until one of them marries one of us. If that happens we can discuss whether the couple can stay in the commune or not.”

“Why are we calling it a commune?” asked Julie.

“That’s what Dougie called it,” said Cathy, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know what else to call it. It’s not a farm, or a ranch.”

“It’s just where we live,” said Trudy. “It will just be home.”

“I’ll start calling it ‘The Home’ then,” said Cathy, her voice tinted with sarcasm. “People will probably say it’s a home for unwed mothers.”

“Why are you arguing?” asked Betty. “Russell’s mother is flirting with the idea that her son did an acceptable thing. She’s mad that she didn’t know it would happen before it happened, but she understands that he couldn’t just come to her and tell her he was having sex with five women and that any or all of them might have his baby. We don’t really care what anybody else in town thinks. Dan is ready to buy some machines and you all want to live together. So let’s do it!”

The general gentle rumble of voices finally coalesced into agreement that Dougie would be told they were invoking the rental clause and the movers would be engaged to transfer the three women’s goods out of Cathy’s house.

Then she would sell the house and the proceeds would go to the trust, and could then be used for paying down the loan, or for repairs and renovations.

Russell was staring at a photograph on his phone when a voice over his shoulder and in his ear made him shiver.

“Wow. That’s cool. Who’s she?”

The question referred to the woman in the photo, who was Betty. She had a baby in each arm and was smiling at the camera. Each of the babies had a mouthful of nipple.

The person asking the question was a mild burr under Russell’s saddle. Her name was Monique Dalton and she wanted to be friends. That’s how she put it when she approached him one day out of the blue and said, “Hi. I’m Monique and I want to be friends with you.” Monique lived in the same coed dorm Russell did but on a different floor. They had seen each other at the cafeteria a few times but Russell had only noticed her, as opposed to paying attention to her. He did not know, for example, that she was a sophomore, a year older than him. She was also already taking junior level classes because she’d had ten hours of college credit when she arrived.

Monique, on the other hand, had paid a lot of attention to Russell. When she had started college her back-home “boyfriend” (who was actually her married boss) had told her to stop calling and texting him because his wife was suspicious. He basically said, “We had fun and now it’s over.” The problem, from Monique’s perspective, wasn’t that her fuck-buddy was calling it off. Her problem was that the man had gotten her used to having a lot of sex and when she got to college she had been unable to find a suitable replacement for the dick she was addicted to. Sure, there were lots of hunky guys around. She even availed herself of a few of them. But none of them had the personality that made her excited whenever she just saw them. Russell, on the other hand, seemed mysterious and interesting. The fact that she couldn’t figure out what made him mysterious and interesting made him ... well... interesting!

Another problem that complicated her social life was that her father was Caucasian and her mother was African-American. She was what, in the old days, would have been called “High Yellow” and she didn’t fit in either world when she was growing up, especially in high school. If she dated a white boy she got a ration of shit from her black classmates. If she dated a black boy everybody thought she was his bitch and expected her to act that way. Monique, however, was nobody’s bitch. She ended up letting her boss seduce her because he’d had a vasectomy so she could have as much sex as she wanted without the danger of getting pregnant. His wife was busy raising their three children and her interest in sex had waned over the years. His interest in sex, especially with a hot high school girl, increased until he was fucking her every day at work. He gave her “bonuses” which he said had nothing to do with her spreading her milk chocolate thighs for him and she put them in her college fund.

All the guys she had dated had been eager to have sex, but she was tired of flitting around like a butterfly. So she stopped just fucking around and started looking for a real boyfriend.

She chose Russell for a number of reasons. He was serious, did not fuck around, himself, and he was eye candy. All he seemed to do was study, either in his room (she strolled by and looked through his open door a number of times) or in the Library. At the same time she had seen him in groups of other students laughing and being social. She had approached him straight on, offering friendship. He had looked at her and she had seen his eyes give evidence that he appreciated what he saw, but he had casually said, “Thanks, but I have enough friends and don’t have time to hang out.”

She got curious, because she didn’t get vibes from him that said he was gay, but as far as she could discern he never dated. Maybe he had a girlfriend back home. She wanted to know so she was persistent in her frequent approaches. She thought that if she just acted like they were already friends, he would eventually come around.

Russell moved his phone so she couldn’t see the picture of Betty, nursing her twins, one of whom was his and one of whom was Bobby’s. He had been astonished when he got the news about the twins having different fathers. He loved staring at the picture Dan had taken of his wife, topless, and feeding both babies at the same time. He imagined them growing up as best friends, like he and Bobby were, except they’d be a boy and girl and they’d have an actual family tie and could never be separated.

He missed Bobby for a lot of reasons, but the biggest was that he missed talking to someone who understood him, inside out.

“Who is she?” asked Monique again. “Why is she breast feeding two different babies, and why did somebody send you of a picture of her doing that?”

“You ask a fuck-lot of questions,” grumbled Russell.

“That’s because you’re interesting and I like interesting men,” she said.

“You’re not going to give up, are you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t study all the time like you do. I have some free time, now and then, and I like spending it with interesting people. Why would I want to give up on that?”

Russell’s response was one from the gut, and was based on unreliable information. That information was that he assumed anyone who knew he had fathered a child on a grown woman would think he was odd, weird, and not someone they would want to hang around with.

“The black one is my daughter,” he said, bluntly.

Monique was not put off. If anything, this made him more interesting.

“And why is she breastfeeding your daughter? Especially while she feeds her own? He is her son, right?”

“What he is, is none of your business,” said Russell, gruffly. “And it isn’t polite to look over people’s shoulders to see what they’re looking at.”

Monique decided to be blunt, too.

“Look. My boyfriend dumped me in August, the day before I came here to start school. I’ve had sex three times in the last year and I’m horny out of my mind. I like you and I don’t even know you, yet. You, my fine sir, are a candidate to help me with my horny issue. Now, if you’re gay I understand why you’d turn me away. But I don’t think you’re gay, especially if you made a baby. I’m not asking you to marry me. I just need another fuck-buddy because my last one doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore and I haven’t found anyone I’m compatible with.”

“I can understand why you might have difficulty finding someone you’re compatible with,” he said. “You’re kind of a pain in the ass and a little bit of a stalker.”

She said nothing, but stayed there. The gambit had been played, however, and the game was on, even if Russell didn’t quite realize it, yet.

“So ... why does he want nothing to do with you?” asked Russell. He assumed he’d be able to turn her answer into one he could use himself.

“He’s married and I was just a fling. His wife might also be suspicious,” said Monique, boldly. “Plus he was back home and I was here.”

“Oh,” said Russell, who couldn’t think of another way to deflect her.

There was another thing going on that Russell didn’t know about, at least not on a conscious level. He had gotten used to having a lot of very good sex, too. It had been abruptly cut off when he got to college. He’d been able to get some during winter break and was trying to figure out how to get more when he got back to Pine Bluffs for spring break. His mother, though, had sent him an email that said, “When you come home on Spring Break we have much to discuss. Plan on being home a lot.”

That was it and when he asked what she was talking about she said they’d discuss that when he got home. She didn’t “sound” angry and she still asked how his freshman year of college was going. They didn’t share emails all that often, maybe once every couple of weeks or so. Teri sent him many more emails, moaning and groaning that he wasn’t there and she couldn’t chance having sex “with some stupid boy at school.” She had also sent him selfies of her nude. There was even one of her with a big, fat dildo that looked suspiciously like Bobby’s cock. There was one of her smiling while she looked at it, and one with it shoved all the way in her pussy. She said she preferred his penis in her pussy more. Russell had reminded her that emails could be hacked and what would happen if their father was the one who hacked them. He didn’t ask, but he wondered how in the hell she had gotten the dildo in the first place. He was pretty sure there was no place in Pine Bluffs that sold things like that.

So Russell had masturbated a lot in his dorm room while he stared at pictures of Sarah, holding his baby and mugging for the camera, or one of Teri’s ill-advised but super-hot pics, to the one of Betty while his daughter and her twin brother, who was somehow Bobby’s baby, sucked at nipples he wished he could suck at, too. Jerking off had helped a little, but what he needed was a hot, willing pussy. He had not sought one because he didn’t have time or money to date, and relationships took both.

Basically, Monique’s offer to be his fuck-buddy struck a nerve in his libido. It was also bold and reminded him a little of Julie, who had boldly asked if it was true that black men had bigger cocks and then wanted to see for herself. The difference was that Monique wasn’t overweight. She had the tight but curvy body of an athlete, which she was. She had been on the swimming and softball teams in high school and had kept her body in shape by spending time in the gym at college. There was a pool, too, but it was clear across campus and walking in the cold wasn’t appetizing.

“Why do you like me? As you pointed out, we know practically nothing about each other, and if you haven’t had sex in over a year, that means you’ve been here longer than I have.”

“You’re moderately handsome. You’re taking college seriously, which means you probably take relationships seriously. I’m not talking about commitment. I mean it suggests you might pay attention to my wants and needs, as well as your own. The crotch of the jeans you wear is nicely packed. The guy who dumped me was white and he broke me in, so I’ve never had a black penis in me. I’m kind of curious about that. I mean I know the color of the thing doesn’t matter, but the context does. The man back home always made me look as his white cock slowly entered my naked, black opening. I think he might have been having fantasies of what white men did in the eighteen hundreds to their female slaves. He never said anything like that but he always wanted me to see the contrast in skin colors.” She stopped. “Want me to go on? I’d be happy to tell you what physical features I like about you.”

“You said you have a naked opening,” said Russell. “What does that mean?”

“He didn’t like the feel of my pubes on his nose when he ate me. I had a pretty hairy bush, too, which blocked his view. He was kinky. Before he started fucking me he liked to jerk off and shoot on my pussy lips and then rub his cum around with the tip of his cock.”

“Did he get you off?” asked Russell, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to ask a virtual stranger.

“Most of the time. If we had a lot of customers he got in a hurry. And he got a kick out of knowing that while I was helping a customer his cum was in my pussy.”

“Did he ever give you more than one orgasm in a session?”

She laughed.

“Does any man do that?”

“I do,” he said, quietly. “You need to understand that if I do this, you need to be prepared to spend an hour or so. In some cases I’ve gone a couple of hours before I came.”

She didn’t laugh, but she looked guarded.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because if I like a woman enough to be that intimate with her, she deserves to have a good time before I breed her.”

Monique blinked.

“Breed her?”

“I don’t wear a condom,” said Russell. “I like having natural sex and I like knowing that my sperm are swimming around in my lover’s womb.”

“Wow! You sure don’t mess around,” she said.

“Sex is serious with me.”

“So, who’s your baby mamma and why wasn’t your relationship serious enough that when you bred her you didn’t stay there with her and the baby?”

“That’s private,” he said. “Let’s just say I wasn’t needed.”

“So she was married,” Monique guessed.

Russell said nothing. They were in the library and had been talking quietly. In that environment, though, “quiet” was relative. He didn’t want anyone else hearing the conversation. He hadn’t even wanted to start the conversation. But while they talked, Mother Nature used her insidious tricks to make Russell examine this bold young woman. She was pretty. She looked like she’d be hot, naked. She was willing and he hadn’t had any pussy since coming back from break. It was another two months until Spring Break, when he would, at a minimum, get to fuck Teri. He was more interested in seeing and holding his babies, but if any of the women wanted to play he would be most happy to do so. In his mind he’d still be climbing on top of them when they were old and gray.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked.

She frowned.

“No. I didn’t need it with him. When I left to come here I was halfway in love with the SOB. He had talked about divorcing his wife and being with me and I was stupid enough to fall for that. When I got here I didn’t like men very much. I guess maybe I’ve healed from that, though I still wish I could cut his dick off. I got a prescription for birth control pills, but couldn’t find a suitable ... friend ... so I stopped taking them. I still have a packet of them in my room, somewhere, but I’m not taking them.”

“So, are you willing to have bareback sex with me and let me try to breed you?”

“Fuck, boy!” she groaned. “You get right to it, don’t you.”

“I told you I don’t have casual sex.”

“All I need is a fuck-buddy,” she moaned. “I’m not looking for a relationship that’s that serious.”

“Sex should be serious, or it means nothing. That sounds a lot like masturbation to me.”

She frowned some more and was obviously thinking.

“Would you be willing to only ask for sex if it was a safe time in my cycle?”

“First of all, I wouldn’t ask for sex. If it felt right and we both wanted it I’d jump in. And I’d never make you have a baby. I’m not a complete asshole. The only time we’d have sex is when you wanted to have sex.” He blinked. “Assuming we started to have sex at all.”

“Okay. Okay,” she said. “Could we at least make out and get each other off? I really need some personal touch right now.”

Russell thought about how she’d sound when she came. Would she be a moaner, like Cathy, or a screamer, like Sarah? Would she yip and say, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” like Julie usually did? Would her pussy ripple and milk him, like Betty’s did?”

Somehow, in his mind he had jumped straight to the breeding part. There was a lot he’d do before that, but he assumed she would let him put his dick in her.

“Do you go down?” he asked.

He saw her reaction and it was negative.

“He used to fuck my face, every so often,” she said. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

“If I go down on you, it will be to make love to your vulva and clit,” said Russell, who realized he was hard in his pants. When had that happened? “If you go down on me, I hope you make love to my penis. I hope you like it and want to be its friend. I hope you like the taste of my semen.”

“Fuck, boy,” she said again. “I am so turned on right now my panties are getting wet.” She closed her eyes. “Please, please, please? Just this once? I’m so horny I’m going to go crazy!”

Russell closed his books and put everything in his back pack. He stood up. The front of his jeans bulged, visibly. He saw her look.

“Be careful what you ask for,” he said.

Monique was almost in a panic, but she was able to keep in control because when she said, “Stop!” he stopped. Actually, he only paused, but he gave her time to collect herself. She had approached him in the library around four-thirty in the afternoon. The clock on the nightstand said it was almost ten P.M. and that gorgeous, big black cock had been giving her orgasms since eight. He hadn’t fucked her for an hour, straight. He’d give her a couple of orgasms and then pull out to cool off while he kissed her everywhere on her body. She had never experienced anything like it and the extent of her passion almost scared her.

The reason Monique was almost in a panic was because when, for the fifth or sixth time he had stopped kissing her, or sucking on her clit, and had said, “I want to make a baby in you,” her internal reaction was, “Maybe that would be a good thing.”

“Last time,” he panted, his nose almost touching hers.

He had taken her in a variety of positions, which was unique because asshole always wanted her on her back with him on top, in control of everything. Half an hour earlier she had been on her knees, with her face turned sideways on his pillow. It made her pussy in the perfect position to take his cock if he was on his knees behind her. When he had entered her that time he had just stroked and stroked, talking to her.

That was another thing that convinced her this wasn’t the last time she’d do this. She had thought there were only two kinds of orgasms; the ones with your fingers and the ones when something was in you. Both were fun, but having something warm in you gave you the best cum.

Cum. As in singular. She had never had two orgasms in a single session. Asshole had fucked her two times in one shift, one time, but she had only cum during one of those sessions. Now she had learned there are possibly half a dozen kinds of orgasms. The first new kind she had was when he did, in fact, go down on her. Asshole only rarely had and the only other guy to do it obviously didn’t know what he was doing because Russell made her feel like she was breaking into little pieces that would fly away until all that was left was her pussy, gripping his cock.

Then he had let her rest while he kissed her in ways she’d never been kissed before. When he kissed her she felt like he had chosen her, specifically, from among all the women in the world. When she caught her breath he moved to suck her stiff nipples while his long finger probed inside her to determine if she had a G spot, and if he could run the tip of his finger around the pouting mouth of her womb. The orgasm she had when he did that felt like she was being beaten with feathers while the girls manipulating the feathers laughed with glee. She wished she could share that orgasm with a friend.

There had been more kissing and, somehow, he had pulled all kinds of information from her before he got between her thighs like he had the first time, and slid inside her, lying on top of her to hold her captive while he rolled and wiggled and didn’t actually fuck her because he didn’t go in and out. And when she had an orgasm that way she had screamed while his lips muffled that scream.

That had been the first time he whispered, “Yes. Cum on my cock while I breed you,” and then she felt the warm flush of his semen flood her vagina. It hadn’t made her want to have his baby, but it did add a little something to the orgasm.

The orgasm she had when he did go in and out, conventionally, was like the ones she had with asshole, except Russell didn’t just use her pussy to get off. She liked “Russell style missionary position” best because he could kiss her while he made her crazy with that little circular rubbing thing he did while the tip of his prong rubbed against that place he had circled with his fingertip.

Now, as she looked at the clock and realized she’d had at least six major orgasms and a dozen thrilling little hit and run cums all in two hours. And he’d told her he wanted to breed her three times.

“You’re not human,” she panted.

“I’ll try and breed you one last time and then we have to stop. I have eight chapters to read and a class at eight in the morning. But first, I want to cum in your sweet, black pussy.”

That’s when she imagined her abdomen looking like she’d swallowed a pumpkin and didn’t react negatively ... and almost panicked.

“Please don’t make a baby in me,” she whined.

“You said you’re safe,” he reminded her.

“I am right now, but nothing like this has ever happened to me and I’m going to have to start taking my pills again because if you want to do this a lot I’m going to want to do it a lot, too, even if it isn’t safe!”

“I hoped you’d like good sex,” he said.

And then he came in her the third time.

She lay there, suddenly feeling alone, abandoned when he rolled off of her and got up to go to the bathroom. She felt cold, too and sat up, looking for her clothes, which had somehow gotten scattered around the room. Even the way he undressed her had been erotic. She tried to remember how it happened that, when he said, “I want to go inside you and cum,” she had panted, “Okay” and spread her legs. The roller-coaster had started then and she couldn’t get off. She could get it to stop, once in a while, so she could catch her breath and calm down, but he was in control of the safety bar that kept her on the ride.

She had her jeans and shoes on when he came out of the bathroom. She felt flutters as she examined his muscled torso, handsome face, and that magic cock that looked big even soft.