Adamonde. Benjamin Vance

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СКАЧАТЬ was concentrating she put her finger on her head and spun around with her apron flapping, stopped and said, “Heeereee, chirp, ookaaa!”

      “Do you mean … the method by which you arrived does not allow anything but your cells to survive?”

      She jumped up and down twice, nodding her head, grinning and clapping her hands. She was ecstatic he understood, but he stayed sober and it took her a second to understand why. He confirmed her sense with, “That doesn’t mean you can’t get our diseases does it?”

      She hung her head to think, looked up and stared into his eyes and for seconds they just stood and stared at each other. Then Jonathan said, “What are you shielding from me, Baby? I know there’s something you aren’t letting me find.”

      She said, “Luufff khyyoo.”

      “Baby, please don’t try to fog my mind. I love you too, but I fear for you constantly. Now, for the first time I fear you’ll catch some damned human disease and I’ll lose you. I couldn’t live if I lost you.”

      “Jon … tathan lifffe, ookaaa? Mhhiii baahbeee kiffee mhheee baahbeee.”

      “What the fu’ … are you saying? I … give you … no way! I give you baby? No frikkin’ way! Are you pregnant … pregnant from me? How can that be? We’re not even the same species for God’s sake. How can you be pregnant? You are pregnant! Holy shit, this can’t be happening … oh my God, this is wonderful. You are pregnant. Are you really pregnant? Oh my God, I’m going to be a daddy; I’m going to be a daddy!”

      He picked her up for a change, and she gently wrapped around him, not without passion, but seemingly with a more profoundly felt love. She had no smile, pinkish tears oozed from her beautifully wide, questioning eyes, and she saw deeply into his soul. She loved what she saw and kissed him as a woman and wife would. She chirped and jingled deeply in her throat as they kissed ... and kissed … and light pink tracks lined her cheeks.

      6.

      He had a million questions and she answered most of them perceptually; some literally. He couldn’t answer her questions, if she had any. She was still shading herself for some reason. He had two aliens to worry about then; well at least two.

      Adamonde started the stove top again and cooked two eggs and bacon for him and French toast for her. He watched her beautiful backside as she worked and periodically turned to smile at him. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. It didn’t take long for them to be seated at the table, her at his side, eating with her right hand and toying with his genitals with her left. She liked lots of honey on her French toast and ate with a spoon; always with a spoon.

      After breakfast, he decided to take a shower and she followed. However, she dispensed with the monkeying, and he vaguely understood she’d lost some of her desire for him. She squeaked loudly and shook her head. Apparently it was some vague thoughts of not being able to please him. As he gently washed her back with her favorite body wash, he began to erect. His penis touched her side and she turned, looked down and smiled. Both of her hands went to it and she chirped cheerfulness as he grew. She put her finger down to her vulva and chirped at him and shook her head. He said, “Oh, I get it we can’t have sex because of the baby.”

      She looked dumbfounded. She cocked her head and grabbed his right middle finger, washed off the soap and inserted it into her damp vagina. It was his turn to look dumbfounded. He said, “What am I supposed to feel, or not feel?”

      She looked disappointed and choked out, “Noo … tthheenggg, noootthhhiiinnngggaa!”

      “Oh shit, you mean there’s no more peristalsis in your vagina? Does that stop when you’re pregnant? Is that how you knew?”

      She quickly nodded her head tentatively, and one idle hand went back to his still engorged but hanging penis. They stared at each other for quiet moments, then she let go of his penis and started gently caressing the rest of his body with fluctuating fingers and toes. He kept up a slow, mechanistic washing of her feminine parts until she felt him erect against her tummy again. She stopped, looked at him and chortled with questions in her eyes. She whispered, “Khyyoo, whhaanntt mhhee?”

      He heard more of the question in his mind and asked, “Are you saying you don’t want to make love, we can’t make love with the baby or your peristalsis is gone? I don’t get it.”

      She whispered, “Gohhnne, hhitttss gohhnne.”

      “Sooooo, does that mean we can’t make love? Will it hurt you or the baby?”

      “Knooo, Jon … tathan uuhhrrtt mee-bee.”

      “He said, “I don’t think it will hurt me, Sugar, but I sure don’t want to hurt you or our baby. Let’s get out of this shower before we turn to prunes and see if we can discuss this after we dry off.”

      She asked, “Prruuunnnees?”

      He didn’t respond, just dried her and him with one big beach towel they kept for the purpose. After he dried her, she attached herself to his middle and he carried her to the bedroom, where he lay her down and covered her with only a sheet. He lay down beside her and she used her feet to throw the sheet back to allow him access to whatever of hers he wanted. His groin ached for her and she felt it, and then saw it in his throbbing penis. He said, “Don’t worry about that. There are ways to handle it, if you know what I mean. She didn’t grin, but with some effort whispered and pointed, “Phhuuutt hhiinnn mhheee baahbeee. Aahhdde … hemonntt whhaanntt Jon-tathan.”

      He caught a whiff of cinnamon, felt for its smooth wetness, and she arched her back when he touched her there. She looked at him with pleading, pulsing eyes; he adjusted his position and slowly entered her. She squeaked and he stopped. She reached for his hips with feet and arms, pulled him into her and thundered with delight. There was no peristalsis, but the smooth ridges were still there and they caused her to roar and rumble as he passed over them, in and out in their pregnant serenity. His thoughts were a jumble as she started maniacally pulling at him and jerking her hips toward him. He felt the top of her pounding against his penis and became aware she was nowhere to be found in his mind.

      He found he was doing what he was born to do and loved it. He placed her legs over his shoulders, pushed them back and pounded her pelvis. She was thrashing her head back and forth; pulling at every part of him she could reach, was soaked with honey and reeked of cinnamon. He heard two pops, glanced back at her exposed, wet spikes and didn’t give a shit. He was reaching his own climax and she was still not in his head. He looked down at their connection and screamed his pleasure as he erupted inside her like a volcano. She opened her mouth, her tongue came out and curled back on itself, she noisily sucked in a deep animal breath, screamed like an eagle and collapsed … unconscious.

      Through his misty, fading passion he saw she was breathing normally. He somehow knew she’d succumbed to pleasure and it thrilled him to provide that, after she’d delighted him in so many ways. He waited to remove himself to see if the peristalsis was there; it wasn’t and he guessed it wouldn’t be until after the baby was born; if her species had more than one child over a lifetime. After he pulled himself out and left her small body oozing semen beside him, he lay on his side watching her and thought about her mortality, her propensity to have perhaps more than one baby, perhaps eggs even. He thought maybe that was why she didn’t eat eggs, except as French toast. It was too early in the day to be sleepy, but he covered them both and watched her beautifully peaceful face until he too slept.

      ***

      His cell phone was ringing in СКАЧАТЬ