Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Blackmailed Brother by Lubrican Copyright(C) 2022 by Lubrican Chapter 5 This was not the kind of career our parents had envisioned for us. Oz told them it was her idea and that I was only going so that I could keep an eye on her. She carped on that, saying she didn -(TM)t need a keeper, but thanks to them, that -(TM)s how I thought of myself, now. It was because she was going overseas that I felt so compelled to go with her. They swallowed that hook, line, and sinker. Oz had always been able to sway them to whatever she wanted. That -(TM)s what had gotten me blackmailed in the first place. I knew she could make good on her threat to ruin my life by telling my parents stuff. Her -~negotiation -(TM) skills had only gotten better as she learned how to sway strangers to accept her help. The real objection came when Dad found out we -(TM)d be going to a city called Natitingou, which is in the Republic of Benin, which is on the continent of ... Africa. Even the most out-of-touch person knows Africa is substantially populated with black people. Dad went ballistic and forbade Oz from going there. She was smart enough to have already signed a contract when this tidbit of information was provided to our parents. Dad, bless his racist heart, was ignorant enough to believe that contracts were set in stone and couldn -(TM)t be gotten out of. That was ridiculous, of course, but most ignorant people (among them, racists) believe a lot of things that aren -(TM)t true. It also helped that our travel date was only a week hence, which didn -(TM)t give him time to contact his congressman (who wouldn -(TM)t have cared) or find some other way for Oz to get out of her contract. At that point, he was actually glad I was going along, to protect his baby girl from the black devils she would be forced to live among. I was informed that there were no suitable men in Africa for his daughter to -get interested in - and that my main job would be to make sure her lily white body wasn -(TM)t sullied by a native. The history of Benin will illuminate why The Haverson Foundation chose it to be their center of operations for sub-Saharan Africa. This region is in the part of Africa that was referred to as the Slave Coast in the 17th and 18th centuries, due to the large number of people who were kidnapped and trafficked to the New World during the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. As a point of interest, we learned after we got there that all the kidnapping and trafficking was done by black men. White men were only the customers who fueled this industry. After slavery was abolished France colonized the region and named it French Dahomey. France granted them independence in 1960 and left the jackals to fight over what was left. And fight, they did. The Benin governments have included democratic governments, military governments, and a Marxist-Leninist government. It has been democratic since 1991 and those governments sought safety and security by joining every organization that might offer them such. That included the UN, the African Union, the Economic Community of West African States, the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, the South Atlantic Peace and Cooperation Zone, the Community of Sahel-Saharan States, the African Petroleum Producers Association, and the Niger Basin Authority, to name the major ones. The representatives of all these organizations, as well as the local officials who interacted with them, all stayed in the capital, Porto Novo, or in Cotonou, on the coast, which is one reason Haverson established their headquarters inland, in Natitingou. Those officials could be contacted, but they weren -(TM)t under foot all the time. The country was small, as African states go, so there were fewer government bureaucrats to deal with who might be corrupt. It had a port that supplies could be shipped into and it was relatively close to ten different nations in which The Haverson Foundation was doing its work. The directors of Haverson kept projects small and oriented towards teaching people, as opposed to throwing money around. If you have money in Africa, it tends to be like the smell of blood to a hyena. Haverson tried to keep their presence under the radar of the hyenas. Another specialty was the introduction of technology that would help increase crop yields without destroying the land. The idea was, if possible, to equip local entrepreneurs for the production of such technology, so that jobs were created as well as increases in edible and marketable crops and food products. Benin was already highly dependent on agriculture and exported cotton and palm oil. If they could help subsistence farmers produce a surplus of food, it could be exported to other African nations, which would be better for everybody involved. So why did Haverson send two wet-behind-the-ears rookies to Benin? Well, one reason was that the official language was French, and Oz had taken French for two years in high school and two more years in college. She didn -(TM)t call herself fluent, but she sure sounded fluent to me when we got there. I knew maybe ten French words and I never felt so helpless in my life. It turned out that lots of people knew a little English, but didn -(TM)t want to sound stupid to a rich American (all Americans are rich, from the perspective of many Africans) so they didn -(TM)t use that English. Once they found out Oz and I were as poor as church mice, that helped. The major thing that improved relations was when Oz told them she was too busy to teach me French and asked them if they -(TM)d help me learn it. Along with French I got passable in several local dialects. The local Catholic priest tried to enlist us to attend his church for mass. Our other choices were Islam or the small Protestant group in town. We explained to all that we wanted to be non-sectarian, which convinced them all we were beyond help. I believe in my heart of hearts that the only reason we got as good a start as we did was because one day I helped an old woman who was walking by our house and stepped on a piece of broken glass, cutting her foot. She had been carrying sacks of something and I happened to see her fall to the ground with a yelp. Oz wasn -(TM)t there at the time, but I went to see if this old woman was all right. When I saw the bleeding foot I returned to the house to get first aid supplies. She was already up and picking up her burden when I got back and I made her sit back down so I could clean and bandage her foot. I couldn -(TM)t speak any of the languages at that point and just smiled a lot, trying to reassure her. She sat and let me bandage her foot and when she got up, I picked up three or four of the plastic bags she -(TM)d been carrying and gestured for her to go on. She picked up the remaining two bags and limped off to a house several blocks from our house. Her house was very plain, but I didn -(TM)t stick around to stare at things. I just smiled some more and waved goodbye. It turned out this woman was the mother of one of the priests (or whatever they call them) in the religion of Vodun, which outsiders call Voodoo. Vodun was created in Benin and is the oldest religion in the country. I could never get anyone to admit it, but I believe her son put the word out that we were to be left alone, at a minimum, and helped if possible. So, why is all this important? Well, because the contract we sighed was for four years. And they thought we were a married couple. So, of course, we were housed together. Oz got partnered with a guy named Pierre, who wasn -(TM)t popular because he was French. It had been thirty years since the French left, but the memory of the colonizers was long. Pierre was due to rotate out in three months, so Oz had to be up to speed by then. Haverson had thirty projects scattered around in Benin, Togo, Burkina Faso, and a few in Ghana. Nigeria, to the east, was considered capable of taking care of their own agricultural needs. We weren -(TM)t the only white people in town. There were others there who represented mining companies and the agricultural industry. There was even a man there named Rudolph who I suspected was hiding out from either the law or someone who wanted him dead. He didn -(TM)t work and he never seemed to run out of money. He wasn -(TM)t a problem for me, though, so I didn -(TM)t worry about him. I wasn -(TM)t allowed to just be an idle househusband. While Oz learned how to keep tabs on all the projects and solve problems, I went out and got my hands dirty in the field. For the first year I couldn -(TM)t speak to anyone who didn -(TM)t speak English. Luckily, I had a -helper - who was indigenous to the region. Even he had communication problems, sometimes. There were at least fifteen local languages and the kind of people we were interacting with were poor farmers who had never gone more than a few miles from their birthplace. They had no need to learn languages other than their own. Many of them didn -(TM)t even speak French. Ngumbe, my assistant, managed magnificently, even when he didn -(TM)t understand the local dialect. What I was doing, in most cases, was taking soil samples to be tested for mineral content and other stuff I didn -(TM)t understand. I also gathered information about water sources and irrigation practices. Most farmers in that area of the world depended on rainfall for their crops, and irrigation was believed to be able to increase yields by 50%. Haverson liked drip irrigation and a lot of what they shipped in were materials for that process. Once farmers understood it, they welcomed that kind of thing with open arms. No longer did their children have to make trips to the local stream, lake, or whatever to bring back pails of water to dump around plants. That freed kids up to go to school, though many parents thought that was a waste of time. Most of my trips weren -(TM)t longer than a hundred miles, so I was usually able to get back home at night to sleep with my -~wife -(TM). Oz loved it. I was a little less enthusiastic in the beginning, but once I learned some language skills, and made a few friends with local farmers, it got better. I don -(TM)t want to give the impression I was unhappy. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. I no longer had to go to classes and while I made trips quite often in the beginning, that slowed down after the first six months. Africa, in areas where there is no war or conflict, has a relaxed attitude about life in general. That meant I could go to Oz -(TM)s office and communicate with her that I was horny and she could take a break to go home with me. We made love frequently, and by that I mean almost daily. In some cases I -(TM)d pull her away from her work for lunch and make love with her before she went back to the office. Then, at night, we -(TM)d spend an hour or two with her riding me, sitting up all pale and beautiful in the darkness. Or I -(TM)d hunch over her sliding my cock in and out of her clasping pussy. I always came inside her unless she sucked a load out of my balls with her mouth. She was on the pill so there was no danger of impregnating her. That -(TM)s what I thought: she was on the pill. In reality, she stopped taking it three months after we got there. That wasn -(TM)t planned on Oz -(TM)s part. She -(TM)d brought a three month supply with her. When they were gone, she found out that buying the pill required a doctor -(TM)s permission and doctors in that area considered the pill to be only for emergency contraception after sex. It wasn -(TM)t available for routine use. So she just stopped taking it. I wasn -(TM)t aware she was pregnant until we -(TM)d been there six months. She was in routine contact with a local doctor, who took care of her like he took care of indigenous women. At the point where she decided to tell me she was sure I -(TM)d be angry. We were making love and she was on top. She liked that position because she could squeeze out orgasms almost on command. She -(TM)d had two, in fact, when I casually mentioned she needed to get more exercise because she was -developing a little gut. - -I don -(TM)t need more exercise, - she said, catching her breath. -I -(TM)m not fat. I -(TM)m pregnant, Bobby. - She stopped, leaning on my chest with her hands. She just waited. -You -(TM)re not supposed to be pregnant, - I commented. I was stunned. -Well, I am. We -(TM)re going to have a baby. - I looked at her pooch and realized I was looking at my child, pushing out from the inside. I could easily envision a little curled up baby in there. Of course that baby was only three or four inches long, at that point, and weighed maybe an ounce, but in my mind he was fully formed. I assumed it would be a -~he -(TM). Don -(TM)t ask me why. -Mom and Dad are going to be furious, - I said. -I don -(TM)t care about them, - she said. -How do you feel about it? - -How did this happen? - I asked. -I think you know how it happened, - she said, dryly. Her pussy muscles squeezed my hard cock, buried deep inside her. -But you -(TM)re on the pill, - I said. That was when she admitted she -(TM)d made a unilateral decision to go off the pill. Haverson would probably have shipped her in more pills if she -(TM)d asked them, but since the paperwork and processing took roughly two months, during which she -(TM)d be unprotected anyway, she decided not to do that. -We -(TM)re here for three and a half more years, - she said. -By the time we get back this one will be three. If we have another it will still be on the breast, but Mom will melt. She loves babies. - -Our father doesn -(TM)t love babies, - I said. -Yes, but if they -(TM)re white, that -(TM)s all he -(TM)ll care about. - -Okay, but they -(TM)ll still want to know who the father is and why you haven -(TM)t told them about him in the first place. - -I work with white men, - she said. -So I have some affairs, and there are accidents. So the fathers rotate out of Africa back to The States or Europe or wherever. So I didn -(TM)t want to marry any of them. And if we like it here after this contract is over, maybe we can extend. Is this such a terrible life? - -You know I love you, - I said. -That -(TM)s why I -(TM)m here. Wherever you go that -(TM)s where I -(TM)ll go. America offers some things we can -(TM)t get here, but I -(TM)m not dying because of that. Did I really fuck a little baby in your belly? - -You can be really unromantic at times, - she sighed. -You didn -(TM)t fuck a baby into me, Bobby. We made love and my egg decided it wanted to be fertilized by your sperm. While we were making love, my egg and your sperm were making love inside me. - -Okay, okay, - I said, reaching to pinch her nipples. -Can I be on top, now, or will that hurt the baby? - -You can be on top for months, - she said. -Just because I -(TM)m pregnant doesn -(TM)t change the way I live. Some of the wives we work with squat and have their baby in a field. Then they wrap the baby up and go back to work. - -Now who -(TM)s being unromantic, - I said. -I don -(TM)t want you squatting in a field to have our baby. - -Of course I won -(TM)t, Silly, - she said. -I -(TM)ll have a midwife and have it right here. - -Here as in our bed? - -It -(TM)s the one we made her in, - said Oz. -What better place for her to come into the world? - -Him, - I corrected. -You -(TM)re having a boy. - -If it -(TM)s a boy you get to name him, - she said. -If it -(TM)s a girl I get to name her. - -Who died and made you king? - I grumbled. -Nobody died. And I -(TM)m your queen, not your king. I command you to make love to me right now, peasant. - She rolled off of me and lay with her legs open, her knees bent. I climbed into the saddle and sank into her. -If you weren -(TM)t already pregnant I -(TM)d get you that way right now, - I growled. -I -(TM)ll tell you when you can make the next one, - she said, thrusting her hips up against me. -You did this on purpose, - I said. -You -(TM)ve always wanted me to get you pregnant. - -Guilty as charged. Now, Igbo, make love to your queen! - -Don -(TM)t call me a peasant, - I said. -I might not be a landholder, but I -(TM)m married to the queen. That makes me a king! - -We never got married, - she huffed. -All you are is my consort. You exist at my pleasure, so you -(TM)d better pleasure me so I don -(TM)t find another consort. - -You can -(TM)t consort with any man except me, - I said, thrusting deep. -You let me impregnate you. That ties us together forever. You can -(TM)t kick me out! - She pulled me down and wrapped her legs around me. -I don -(TM)t want to kick you out, - she groaned. -You make me feel so good. I love you so much. I -(TM)m going to have five or six of your babies. - She meant it. I could just hear it in her voice. If I got her pregnant five or six times she wouldn -(TM)t complain. Just the thought of that made me cum. It was like a switch had been flipped and my balls opened up. -Ohhh, Oz, - I groaned, as my penis reenacted the process of supplying millions of sperm to her body, and overcoming the defenses of her egg. -Cum deep, - she moaned. -Squirt your warm stuff way up in there. - I did. When your wife is pregnant in Africa (and you -(TM)re a white man) you think about things a little differently. Granted, Cotonu and Porto Novo were modern cities, but up north, where we were, we depended on local doctors and health care that was a little less contemporary. That said, we knew the medical personnel very well, and I wasn -(TM)t worried about Oz delivering the baby. I was more concerned with her getting sick and that causing problems. I had plenty to worry about in that vein. The last thing I wanted to add to the plate was explaining to our parents how I managed to let my little sister get knocked up by -someone - in Africa. My dad knew that neither of us had inherited his racist view of the world. That had been made clear years before this. For that reason it would be easy for him to believe, without any evidence whatsoever, that some big, black buck had had his way with Daddy -(TM)s little girl. She knew that, too. It was easier for us to present a little white boy or girl and say, -Surprise! You -(TM)re grandparents! - than it was to tell them earlier than that. There would still be questions galore, but the issue of any -big, black bucks - would be avoided altogether. So we didn -(TM)t tell our parents she was pregnant and she continued to work as if she were pregnant in any first-world country. I was pretty sure she was well-liked, because there were smiles everywhere she went. She was short even by African standards, and with her belly sticking out, she looked like a doll who was pregnant. Imagine that, for a moment. They don -(TM)t make dolls like that, for some reason. I suppose it has to do with pregnancy being all wrapped up in adult behaviors. But little girls love to imagine that they -(TM)re the mothers of their dolls. They have endless fantasies that they -(TM)re mommies, just like their own mommy. So wouldn -(TM)t little girls love to have a pregnant doll? Perish the thought. We -(TM)ll buy them little baby dolls and let them cuddle them and feed them and even change their diapers. But we won -(TM)t talk about where babies come from until they -(TM)re in their teens. Come to think of it, that -(TM)s when a girl becomes ripe and really can have a baby of her very own. Sorry. My mind went off on a tangent there for a few seconds. Anyway, she looked like a very shapely, very pregnant, very short version of a popular buxom doll whose name I won -(TM)t mention lest I get sued. Her hair was light. Her skin was light and her attitude was bright and light. Everybody loved her. It helped, of course, that the things we were doing with the farmers worked and they saw improvement, in both their fields and their economic outlook. The cotton and palm oil industry was already well-established when we got there, and already thoroughly infiltrated by capitalists from both America and Europe. Those were big farms, too, but our program was interested in the little guy, who lived hand to mouth. This is all to say that, when Oz went into labor and delivered a fine, healthy, squalling baby girl, there were probably a dozen people in the house waiting with me. They were almost all women and they chattered and used the kitchen as if they lived there. Oz -(TM)s labor went pretty easily, according to her. She said that was because all the walking we did had her in tip-top shape. I -(TM)m still just flabbergasted that a diminutive girl like Oz could push an almost nine pound baby out of her body, using up ten hours, and then look as beautiful and fresh as she did when I made that baby in her. I was a wreck, tired and sore from sitting in chairs not designed for napping, but she looked great with that little baby attached to the nipple that, prior to this, only I had sucked. I remembered our deal. -A girl, - I snorted. -I -(TM)m already terrified of the boys she -(TM)ll be interested in. What -(TM)s her name? - I asked. -Hermione, - said Oz, without smiling. -Like in Harry Potter? - I said, raising both of my eyebrows. -Yes, because she -(TM)s magical. - -Maybe you want to take a day or two to think that over, - I suggested. -I do not, - she said, firmly. -The midwife said she -(TM)s a little warrior. When I thought of women warriors I thought of Hermione, and she is magical. One day she wasn -(TM)t there and then - poof! - -That was because I waved my magic wand, - I said, smiling at her. -Well, you keep that wand nice and safe because I -(TM)m going to want you to use it many more times. - -For this? - I asked, reaching to touch my daughter -(TM)s arm. It was so tiny I barely touched it. -The way I figure it, if we take four or five kids home with us Mom and Dad will be so overwhelmed by it all that they won -(TM)t react badly. - -Dream on, girl, - I said. -If that -(TM)s what you want then we -(TM)ll be here for the next ten years. - -Okay, - she sighed. The baby fussed and a black woman who I didn -(TM)t know came and picked her up. The woman cooed at my baby daughter as if Hermione was her own flesh and blood, grinning at the baby and making nonsense noises, something all cultures seem to share. -I -(TM)ll change her for you, - said the woman. -Then I should go. My husband is lazy and will have done nothing while I was gone. - -Thank you, Adebayo, - said Oz. -I couldn -(TM)t have done this without you. - -Nonsense, - said the woman. -Your daughter isn -(TM)t the only warrior in this room. I -(TM)ll check in on you later tonight. - -Okay, - said Oz. She looked at me. -I -(TM)m so glad I married you. - I was sure that the comment about being glad she married me was for the benefit of Adebayo, and two other women who I knew were neighbors, but whose names I didn -(TM)t know. I didn -(TM)t think any more about that over the next few days, mostly because I couldn -(TM)t think about much of anything except Oz and Hermione. Do you have any idea how noisy a newborn baby is? I sure didn -(TM)t. In the space of twelve hours this little thing took over every aspect of our lives, or at least it seemed that way to me. She wanted to eat constantly, and she announced that by crying. She didn -(TM)t like being dirty, and in the part of Africa we were in there are no Pampers or other disposable brands of diapers. We used cloth diapers and there was a load of them to wash every day. I -(TM)ll be honest. During the first couple of weeks I looked for reasons to go out into the field to -check on things - and get a little peace and quiet. Now, of course, I look back on that and realize I was just a rookie father. It wasn -(TM)t as bad as I made it sound. I got used to the shrill sounds of my daughter making her demands known. And I learned why she was so eager to latch onto one of Oz -(TM)s nipples. I found that out one night when it was during an hour-long period of silence. I was lying with Oz, just holding her. She was naked from the waist up because it was easier and more comfortable. Another thing we didn -(TM)t have then were nursing bras, and Oz -(TM)s regular bras were too small to contain her milk-filled breasts comfortably. In her seventh month of pregnancy Oz had begun wearing loose caftans, called boubous in French. This was both because western style maternity clothes were in short supply where we were, and because boubous were so comfortable. So I was just lying with her, talking about something I can -(TM)t even remember and I leaned to suck at a nipple. -Careful, - she warned and then sighed as I got a mouthful of sweet, warm milk. It was delicious! I sucked happily until she pushed me away. -Leave some for the baby, - she scolded. When, about ten minutes later Hermione woke up unhappy, I went to get her from the crib a local craftsman had made for us. I was still amazed at how tiny and light she was. Another first happened, then, as she quieted down when I cuddled her and rocked her in my arms. Her eyes looked huge and I felt the same thing millions of fathers have felt over the millennia. I knew I -(TM)d give my own life to protect her, if necessary. I took her to Oz, who gave her what she -(TM)d just denied me. I stood, looking down at mother and child, nursing, and Hermione was included in my pledge to protect them both at all costs. They didn -(TM)t need much protection, though, and over the next months Hermione got bigger and stronger and louder, though in a less shrill way. Oz bounced back from having a baby and, like her darker compatriots, took the baby to work with her in a papoose rig. I went back to something I wasn -(TM)t even aware I -(TM)d been doing, and that was using my political science education to schmooze with people to grease the skids of progress on Haverson -(TM)s agenda. By the time Hermione was eight months old it was like she -(TM)d always been there. I had adapted to being a daddy. I had also gone back to behaving like a normal husband. I was again chasing Oz around the house, trying to get my hands inside her boubous. She adopted more of the clothing styles of the natives, wearing long skirts and tight wraparound blouses. By the time we were just a year out from when our contract would be over, we had gone pretty much native in most ways. Our projects were doing wonderfully and bearing fruit. As it happened, Oz -(TM)s womb bore fruit again when she weaned Hermione. This time she told me as soon as she knew. There were no longer any shreds of unhappiness in me about this, by this time. No unhappiness, that is, until our parents told us in one of our infrequent Face Time talks that they had saved up enough money to come visit us in Africa. A Dutch mining engineer was invented named Daan De Vries, who tragically died in a mining accident after he impregnated Oz a second time. We waited until we found out when they were coming (that they really were coming) to say, -There -(TM)s something you should probably get ready for. - Oz was genuinely tearful when she -confessed - to having a baby out of wedlock, and that she was pregnant again, by the same man, who had been killed in a mining accident only three months earlier. The genuineness of her tears was from angst, rather than grief, but even I was shocked by how much she missed -Daan -. She volunteered that she hadn -(TM)t told them before, because she and Daan hadn -(TM)t gotten married, yet, and she knew that both parents would be judgmental about that. I was off to one side but Dad demanded to speak to me so I took the phone. -How could you have let this happen? - he roared. -When was the last time you tried to make Oz do something? - I shot back. -When have you ever been able to make her stop doing something when she wanted to do it? - He grumbled and hemmed and hawed and then Mom took the phone away from him. -I have a grandbaby? - she squeaked. -She -(TM)s two and her name is Hermione, - cried Oz. -Two?! Ozmerelda Elaine! You should have told me already! Where is she? I want to see her! - said Mom in a voice that sounded thrilled. Hermione was already in bed, asleep. We had waited to call them until it was morning their time, which meant it was late night our time. When this was communicated Mom settled for seeing her other grandchild, still in utero, under the bulging boubou over Oz -(TM)s swollen belly. -This is wrong! - I heard Dad rage, off to the side. Our mother shocked both Oz and me to the bone when she turned to her husband and said, -You shut the fuck up, John Hoskins. She -(TM)s a grown woman and the mother of my granddaughter and I will not tolerate you ruining this for me! - We found out later that Mom made him sleep on the couch until he apologized to her and promised not to complain about his grandchildren again. The biggest problem we had to overcome was that we had been housed in a one bedroom house. We solved that problem by pretending I -(TM)d had a different abode until Daan died, at which time I had supported Oz and Hermione by moving in with her to be there for her in her time of grief and need. We got a typical African bed, which was a flat, narrow board on short legs with an integrated wooden -pillow -. We put a pad on it and set it in the living room and that -(TM)s where I slept while our parents were there. We found them lodgings at Hotel La Montagne, a more or less Western style tourist hotel, and I went to pick them up each day to bring them to our house. By this time I was fluent in French and Oz and I rarely spoke anything else. We depended on this to shield our parents from any uncomfortable truths that might be revealed by our friends and co-workers, concerning our -marital status -. Neither Mom nor Dad spoke any French at all. A few of the locals they were exposed to tried to speak some English to them, as a courtesy, but in most cases the accent this English was delivered in made it difficult for either of them to understand, easily. They only stayed for a week, and I kept Dad busy by just taking him with me on a tour of -inspection trips - to show him what I did -most days -. He was uncomfortable, at first, being surrounded by people he thought of as inferior, but they ignored him, or smiled at him a lot, and I could tell he had relaxed a little by the time they went back to America. The only thing he said to me about Hermione was, -At least she -(TM)s not a mulatto. - Mom, on the other hand, welcomed her status as a grandmother eagerly. I knew she was disappointed that Oz hadn -(TM)t felt like she could admit, earlier, to her sinful lifestyle, and the baby it had created, but she hid that pretty well. She -(TM)d never had the same opinions about blacks as my father had, but she hadn -(TM)t gainsaid him, either. On this issue, though, she was happy to tell him where to shove his school of thought. If asked, she -(TM)d have happily said Oz should have gotten married before having children, but she was just as happy accepting those children as family. Mom was the much more tolerant of our parents. That said, it was obvious to Dad that we were doing all right in the land of the dark menace, and that perhaps, just perhaps, they weren -(TM)t as dangerous and all-ruining as he -(TM)d thought. He -(TM)d never admit that, but I could tell by his body language. I -(TM)m still amazed that we pulled off pretending to be just brother and sister while they were there, and that when they left they were none-the-wiser as to whose loins Hermione sprang from. It was much easier for Oz and me after that, because we didn -(TM)t have that secret to keep when we Face Timed with them after that. That I decided to keep living with her to -help out - was accepted without comment. When the time came that Haverson offered to extend our contract for another four years, we sat down and talked about it. -If we go back to the States it will be harder to pretend to be married, - she said. Oz was like that. She put her cards on the table right up front. -I -(TM)m kind of used to things, here, - I said. -They -(TM)re talking about extending our territory by another hundred miles in all directions, - she said. -Except east, of course. - She was referring to how Haverson left Nigeria to the dozens of other NGOs who did similar things. Nigeria -(TM)s government (and local bureaucrats) made it more expensive to operate in that country, so Haverson just didn -(TM)t. -That will means I have to stay out some nights, - I said. -I can stand it if you -(TM)re gone one night, now and then, - she said. -It was kind of nice having you on that wooden African bed while Mom and Dad were here. I had lots of room. - -If you -(TM)re asking me to sleep on that torture device again, the answer is no, - I said. She laughed. -I want you in bed with me. I love it when you -(TM)re in bed with me. Sometimes I worry that I -(TM)m so happy I -(TM)ll float off into space, but I know you -(TM)ll lie on top of me and weigh me down. The baby will keep me down to Earth if you have to stay out overnight. - -So, after this one is born are you saying I need to get you a seat belt to wear when you ride me? - I quipped. -No. I -(TM)ll just get pregnant again. You know how I gain weight when I -(TM)m cooking your baby in me. - -Daan already died, - I said. -Who will you blame for the next one? - -I told mom I got horny all the time and that -(TM)s why I got weak, - she said. -You did not. - -I didn -(TM)t tell you about that? Yup. I told her I couldn -(TM)t control myself sometimes. I might have even cried a little bit about it. - -Good grief you -(TM)re a horrible woman, - I sighed. -You blackmailed me in college, and now you -(TM)re lying to our poor, dear mother. - -I didn -(TM)t lie to her at all. I did get horny all the time. I still do. I admit I don -(TM)t have to try to control myself, but that -(TM)s because I don -(TM)t want to. You get to stick your nasty, incestuous penis in me whenever you want. I -(TM)m always ready for that. - -I understand why you pulled the wool over our poor, dear mother -(TM)s eyes, - I said. -But even she -(TM)s going to get suspicious if you never get married but keep popping babies out anyway. - -Why do you think I told her I get horny all the time? It -(TM)s a readymade explanation for any more accidents I have in the future. - -If we -(TM)re here four more years that will be two more babies, - I said. -Are you sure you want that kind of pressure? - -Who says it will be two more babies? - she said. -I do, - I said. -I -(TM)m going to keep trying to make them in you as long as I can. As far as I can tell, the only time you -(TM)re not fertile is when you -(TM)re nursing. I guess you could nurse the next one until he -(TM)s five. Lots of your African friends do that, you know. - -I do know, and they tell me I should do the same. But, as you mentioned, when I -(TM)m doing that, I don -(TM)t seem to be fertile. - -So you want to have more, - I said. -Didn -(TM)t I tell you I wanted five or six? - -I thought you were joking ... trying to get me going. - -Not joking. I wish I could be pregnant with your babies all the time. - -You -(TM)re a sick, twisted woman, Oz, - I sighed. -Well, my point is, I need to have as many as I can while we -(TM)re here, because it -(TM)s going to be a lot harder to hold them off if I -(TM)m back home and get pregnant and they demand to meet the father. Even Mom won -(TM)t buy that I trolled in bars and brought so many men home I don -(TM)t know which one knocked me up. - -Are we enrolled in any retirement plan? - I asked. -We -(TM)re both in a 401K plan, - she said. -You should know that. - -I don -(TM)t pay attention, - I said. -All my pay goes into the bank. What -(TM)s there to spend it on here? - -Why do you ask? - Oz peered at me. -I already told you I like it here, - I said. -Why leave? - -So you -(TM)re good for four more years? - -I -(TM)m good for eight more years, - I said. -And, at that point, we -(TM)ll be in for more than ten years, so we might as well hang on until we can retire. - -You mean stay in Africa ... forever? - Her voice squeaked a little. -Haverson has projects all over the world, right? So we stay here for another four or eight and then move somewhere else. As long as we choose areas that aren -(TM)t likely to blow up into a war or a coup or whatever, and as long as I have you and our children, that -(TM)s all I -(TM)ll ever need. - Her eyes got all wet. -I love you so much, - she whined. -Tell me that when I -(TM)ve made your belly swell up for the fifth or sixth time, - I said. Chapter 6 We did stay in Africa for eight years. By the time we left there to travel to India we had four children, two boys and two girls. The first boy I named Adam, after the first man who engaged in incest to populate the world. My sister thought I was being sacrilegious, but I disagreed. It was obvious. I named the second boy Noah for the same reason. Oz was more conventional, if you consider Hermione a conventional name. Or Adebayo, which she named our fourth child, after the midwife who had delivered all our children. Hermione would grow up proud of her name. Adebayo preferred to be called -Addie - because she got tired of explaining that her name was African. Our ten years in India would make a whole book, but this is long enough as it is. When we left there to go back to New York, where Oz had been promoted into an executive position, Hermione was almost eighteen and looking forward to going to college, though she didn -(TM)t know what she wanted to major in. Adam was more focused on what he wanted out of college, but was farther away from going than his older sister. At present, being sixteen, he couldn -(TM)t wait to get his driver -(TM)s license. Noah was fourteen and Addie brought up the rear at twelve. Addie made the flight back to the US memorable by starting her first period on the plane, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I would never have thought that airlines carried those kinds of supplies, but they do. There was one huge issue when we returned to America. That was that, as far as Haverson (and her new colleagues) were concerned, Oz and I were married. The kids had no idea their mother was their father -(TM)s sister. It was easy to enroll them in school and list me as their father. Nobody ever actually asks to see a marriage certificate. They just take your word for it. The really big problem was with our parents. They knew about Daan, and the two children he had allegedly sired. When she had Noah, she said she didn -(TM)t want to marry the father. When they found out she was pregnant with Addie, the conversations got tense, because Oz again said she didn -(TM)t want to marry the father. By the time we -(TM)d been in India for a few years, they got used to the idea that neither their daughter nor son was going to get married. They knew their grandchildren by virtue of conversations had via the internet. They hadn -(TM)t gotten to come to India to see us, so when we got back to New York we knew they were going to make the trip to interact with us. We also knew that our kids were going to refer to me as -Dad - in the case of Adam and Noah, and -Daddy - in the case of the girls. I was, after all, the only father they -(TM)d ever known. Basically, it was clear we were going to have to come clean with Mom and Dad. And that was terrifying, because we had no idea how they were going to take it. More importantly, we had no idea what they would feel compelled to do. Haverson has relationships with lots of institutions of higher learning. That -(TM)s where they recruit from, for the most part. So even though none of our children had school records from anyplace in America, Haverson greased the skids, as it were, to get some colleges interested in Hermione, for sure, and Adam, potentially. At that point Adam wanted to major in language. He already spoke French, German, Hindi, quite a bit of Urdu, and half a dozen African and Indian dialects. He wasn -(TM)t interested in doing American high school, which was why the first thing he did when we got to New York was take and the GED test (again, thanks to Haverson -(TM)s contacts in getting an age waiver). He was scheduled to take the SAT, which was what the colleges he talked to (on his own, without any parental assistance) wanted to see. All the kids had been home schooled while we were overseas, something Oz and I relished doing. Most of the time we either didn -(TM)t have a TV or didn -(TM)t care to watch what little was available, so we spent the time educating our children. Hermione was eager to go to a college where she could make friends and be with other kids who looked like her and were her age. Noah and Addie were a little less enthusiastic about public school. I think they were worried they might not fit in. We lived in a large, older house in Brooklyn, but the kids hadn -(TM)t had time to get to know others their age in the neighborhood, yet. So we were semi-settled, but our parents might upset that almost equilibrium when they found out what we -(TM)d done. We told them not to try to drive, both because it would be a very long, very tiring trip for them, and because we didn -(TM)t want them to have to deal with big city traffic. We left the kids at home and drove to the airport to pick them up. We did not go directly home. Instead, I drove us to Prospect Park, found a spot next to the band shell, and turned the car off. -What -(TM)s going on? - asked my mother. -Let -(TM)s get out and sit, - said Oz. -We need to talk to you. - -What about? - -Please, let -(TM)s sit on a bench. I don -(TM)t want to have to crane my neck while we talk. - We got out and sat on a bench. Dad and I were on the outside and the two women sat next to each other. -Now, what -(TM)s this all about? - asked Mom. -The kids, - she said. -Your grandchildren. - -What about them? - asked Mom. She was eager to get her hands on little people she -(TM)d only seen on a computer screen. -We need to talk about their father, - said Oz. It got very silent. All they did was stare at Oz. We had talked about how to do this, but hadn -(TM)t come to any firm agreement on the best way. Is there even a best way to tell your parents you -(TM)ve made babies together? Oz decided to just rip the Band-Aid off. -We haven -(TM)t been truthful with you about who the children -(TM)s father is, - she said. -We lied because we were afraid you -(TM)d stop speaking to us; that you -(TM)d hate us. - -Why would we hate you? - said Mom. -Because Bobby is their father, - said my dad, his voice grim. He might have been a racist, but he wasn -(TM)t stupid. -Isn -(TM)t it obvious? They -(TM)ve lived together all this time. I don -(TM)t know why I didn -(TM)t see it before now. - -Bobby? - My mother -(TM)s voice was at least an octave higher than normal. She stared past Oz at me. -It -(TM)s true, - I said. -It wasn -(TM)t his fault! - said Oz, earnestly. -I made him do it! - -You can -(TM)t make a man do something like that, - snorted Dad. -No, it -(TM)s true! I blackmailed him! - said my sister. -Blackmailed, - said Mom, her voice shaky. -Yes. He did something I knew would get him in trouble, back in college. He knew if I squealed on him to you two that you -(TM)d stop supporting him and he -(TM)d have to drop out. I told him I -(TM)d tell if he didn -(TM)t do what I wanted. - -What did he do? - asked Mom, who I suspect was trying not to think about what Oz had just confessed. -That -(TM)s ancient history, now, - said Oz. -It doesn -(TM)t matter. What matters is that I was in love with him since I was twelve, and I always wanted him to be my boyfriend. And then I did something stupid and got in trouble at a party and he saved me from getting raped and that -(TM)s when I told him if he didn -(TM)t become my boyfriend I -(TM)d tell on him and get him in trouble. - -Raped? - My mother -(TM)s voice rose again. -Almost! - said Oz, urgently. -Bobby got there in time. He almost beat the guy to death. And he got me out of there without anybody seeing or knowing how stupid I -(TM)d been. - -This was clear back in college? - asked Dad. -Yes. I was so foolish back then, - said Oz. -But Bobby took care of me. - -Getting you pregnant four times is not taking care of you! - snapped Dad. -The first one was by accident, - said Oz. -He didn -(TM)t want me to get pregnant, but I couldn -(TM)t get more birth control pills in Africa so... - -So, instead of stopping doing incest, you just had his baby? - squealed Mom. -Yes, - said Oz. Her voice was firm. -Haverson thought we were married. That -(TM)s why they only gave us one house. - -So that bullshit about some Dutch guy was just blowing smoke up our asses, - growled Dad. -Yes, - said Oz again. -There was no mining engineer. There was never anybody except Bobby. We felt married. - -Well, you -(TM)re not, - said Dad. -You -(TM)re fucking perverts. - -John. - There was warning in Mom -(TM)s voice. -What? - he barked. -That -(TM)s exactly what they are! - -And what, exactly, do you plan to do about that? - asked Mom. The warning was obvious, just in her tone of voice. She wasn -(TM)t stupid, either. I think she sensed we were all on a precipice, which her husband could shove us all over. I think all she was concerned with, at that point in time, was not doing something nobody could recover from. -I don -(TM)t know, - he said, -but we have to do something. - -Well, let -(TM)s talk about that a little, - said Mom. -Marian, there -(TM)s nothing to talk about. They -(TM)re perverts and we have to do something! - -All right, - said Mom. -What might we do. Call the police? - -Well, I guess, - he said. -And do you think the police - here in America - are going to care a whole lot about incest done overseas, in Africa, over a decade ago? - Her voice sounded quite calm, now. -Well they should! - said Dad. -Okay. Let -(TM)s assume they do care. Which one do you think they -(TM)ll want to put in prison? Bobby? He -(TM)s the father. But she says he didn -(TM)t force her. In fact, she says she forced him! So I guess they might want to put Oz in prison. Is that what you want? - Dad wrinkled his brow. -Well ... I don -(TM)t know. - -They might put both of them in prison, seeing as how they -(TM)ll say it was all consensual. It happened after they were both eighteen, but I -(TM)m sure it -(TM)s still against the law. So then the parents of those children will both be in prison. Who will take care of the children? - -I don -(TM)t know! - snapped Dad. -We -(TM)re the closest relatives, - she said. -We -(TM)d have to take them home with us. How old is Addie? - she asked, looking at Oz. -She -(TM)s twelve, now? - -Yes, - said Oz, quietly. -So we -(TM)ll have three teenagers at home again, and one in college. - She looked at me this time. -You said Hermione is going to college, right? - -She wants to, - I said. -She -(TM)s looking into that, now, but even if she gets accepted there won -(TM)t be any scholarships, at least not for her first year. - -And Adam? - -He wants to go to college, too. He -(TM)s already gotten his GED and will take his SATs soon. He wants to major in foreign languages, but we don -(TM)t know how that will pan out, yet. As for Noah and Addie, we -(TM)ve home schooled them all their lives and I -(TM)m sure whatever school we put them in will test them to figure out where to put them. - -So we -(TM)ll have to finish raising two teenagers, maybe three, and put at least one through college. Is that what you want, John? - -No! Of course not, - he groaned. -We -(TM)re finished raising children. - -Then we can -(TM)t get those children -(TM)s parents sent to prison, now can we? - she said. -But it -(TM)s wrong! - he groaned. -I agree, - said Mom, calmly. -I -(TM)m just not convinced we can do anything that won -(TM)t destroy our children, and make our grandchildren orphans. - Dad was finally speechless. -So, John, what do you want to do? - she asked. -Fuck me! - he grumbled. -I -(TM)d be happy to, Dear, - said Mom. She looked back at us. -Where will we be staying? - she asked. -My husband wants me to fuck him. - -Marian! - gasped Dad. -Well, it -(TM)s what you said! - she yelled. -Calm down, - said Dad, looking around. There were people in the park, but none near us. -I think it -(TM)s you who should calm down, - said Mom. -They did this thing. It -(TM)s ... distasteful ... but it -(TM)s done. We can -(TM)t undo it. Those dear, sweet children need their parents, even if they shouldn -(TM)t be their parents. You and I are just going to have to come to terms with all this. - I could tell Mom was trying to adapt. I was surprised at that, but I grasped onto it like a drowning man grasps a life ring tossed to him. -Incest was common in Africa, - I said. -If that helps. - Mom glared at me. -It does not help, Robert, - she said. -We love each other, - said Oz. -I know we shouldn -(TM)t. Not in that way. But we do. We always have. I dated throughout college, but I never found a man I could love like I love him. I couldn -(TM)t help it. I didn -(TM)t choose to fall in love with him. It just happened. - -Is that why you insisted on going to the same college? - asked Mom. -Is that why you said you -(TM)d watch him for us, and make sure he didn -(TM)t get into trouble? - -Yes, - sighed Oz. -He didn -(TM)t feel like that. Not then. But I really did threaten him. He tried to resist, but I wore him down. - -I thought she was crazy, - I said. -Nothing you -(TM)re saying is helping, - said my mother, looking at me. -Perhaps both you and your father should be quiet and let us women decide what to do. - -Yes, Mother, - I said, softly. -In fact, you two take a walk and talk about men things while Ozmerelda and I talk about the future. - My mother had this special kind of voice, sometimes. I remembered it from my youth. She was usually the quiet one, the soft one. It was Dad who ranted and raved and blamed the world for what he perceived as the injustices he saw in his own life. Mom was the one who calmed him down and smoothed off his rough edges. But sometimes she was also like steel. It took a lot to get her angry, but when she did, she sliced through whatever was going on and laid down the law. That -(TM)s when she used that voice. It was the voice of a lioness, and you didn -(TM)t want to make her roar. That -(TM)s the voice she used to shoo my father and me away from them. To say our walk was -uncomfortable - is like saying an ice pick in the eye is -uncomfortable. - We didn -(TM)t speak for a good three or four minutes. Finally he stopped and looked at me. -I don -(TM)t understand, - he said. -I -(TM)m not sure I can explain, - I replied. -She went to this party at my frat. I told her not to but she wouldn -(TM)t listen to me. And she teased this guy who was drunk and he got her alone in an empty room. I caught him just as he was trying to... - I stopped. -I get that part, - said Dad. -I worried about her because she was so popular with the boys. - -Anyway, I got him off her. He -(TM)d torn her clothes so I had to borrow something from the closet in the room. The guy who lived there was gone at the time. I got her out a window so she wouldn -(TM)t have to go past all the other people at the party and took her home. She wanted to sleep with me ... in my bed, I mean ... because she said she was scared and didn -(TM)t want to be alone. I didn -(TM)t think anything about it, but during the night she ... uh ... kind of touched me. - -So you fucked her? - Dad -(TM)s voice was dark. -No, of course not. Not then. She was acting all squirrelly and accused me of making her touch me. We argued about it and somehow it turned into this thing she talked about over there. - I nodded toward Mom and Oz. -She was talking about how she loved me and didn -(TM)t want to do anything with any other guys. She said if I didn -(TM)t let her sleep with me she -(TM)d get me in trouble with you. - -Me? - -I may as well tell you. I was dating a black girl when she moved in. She said she -(TM)d tell you about it if I didn -(TM)t give her what she wanted. - -You were doing it with a nigger? - he gasped. -You know, that -(TM)s interesting, - I said. -That -(TM)s what she called Shantelle when she walked in on us having sex. She called her a nigger. Shantelle was my girlfriend. We -(TM)d been a couple for eight months at that point, but when my sister used that word, it was the last time Shantelle ever spoke to me. You -(TM)re a racist, Dad. You always have been. And I thought you -(TM)d passed that on to Oz, but it turned out all she wanted was for me not to have a girlfriend. - -Well good for her, - said my father. -I can -(TM)t believe you -(TM)d have sex with a coon. I raised you better than that. - -No ... you didn -(TM)t, - I said. -You tried to, but I recognized that everybody in the fucking world bleeds red, and skin color doesn -(TM)t tell you anything about what another human being is like. Do you remember what you said to me in Africa? You said you -(TM)re happy that at least Hermione wasn -(TM)t a mulatto. Well, she didn -(TM)t have sex with a black man. She had sex with me, instead. And because she had sex with me, I stopped having sex with a black girl, who might have eventually had a mixed race baby. So you should be happy, Dad. - -Fuck me, - he grumbled. -You need to stop saying that, - I said. -It already got you in trouble with Mom. - -Your mother loves those kids of yours, - he said. -She -(TM)s so proud of them she -(TM)s fit to bust. - -What about you? - I asked. -How did you feel about them before you found out they were mine? - -Pissed off, mostly, - he said. -Why? - -Because they were clear over there and I couldn -(TM)t teach them to play catch, or take them hunting or fishing. I knew I had grandchildren, but I didn -(TM)t have grandchildren. - -Well you do, now, - I said. -Hermione might be too old, but they all have ample experience with wildlife. I never took them hunting, but they were around it on a regular basis. - -Even the girls? - -Of course the girls. Just because they -(TM)re girls doesn -(TM)t mean you can -(TM)t do that stuff with them. - We walked some more and it was quiet again. It was maybe five minutes before he spoke again. -You want to know what the worst thing was? - he asked. That could cover a lot of ground, but he was talking, and I wanted him to keep talking. -What? - -I knew that someday I -(TM)d have to walk Oz down the aisle and give her away to some man. I knew that would just kill me, - he said. -She was so beautiful and so bright and the thought of some man I barely knew climbing between her legs just made me want to scream to the sky. - -Okay, - I said. -I suspect a lot of fathers feel like that. - -But you see, what -(TM)s all fucked up about this is that now I won -(TM)t ever have to give her away to a stranger. She took up with a man I know. You and I bumped heads plenty when you were young, but you turned out okay. I was proud of you. I want to be proud of you. And don -(TM)t you dare tell your mother I said this, but if Oz had to get mounted, I -(TM)d almost rather it was you than some stranger. That -(TM)s what I don -(TM)t understand. I don -(TM)t understand how I can be glad - sort of - that it was you. I shouldn -(TM)t feel happy about that. - -I -(TM)m not asking you to feel happy, - I said. -Just let us be. What we have is strong and pure, just like what you and Mom have. All we want to do is finish raising the kids, like you raised us. Once they -(TM)re gone and on their own, if you want to turn us in, then fine. I -(TM)ll deal with that. - -What fucking good would it do to turn you in then? - he sighed. -None, - I said. -Unless it would make you feel better. - -I don -(TM)t see how I can ever feel better again, - he said. -It -(TM)s not the end of the world, Dad, - I said. -There were a lot of handsome bucks in Africa who would have loved to claim Oz. Would you feel better if that had happened? - -You know I wouldn -(TM)t, - he said. -I don -(TM)t think about race like I used to, but it -(TM)s still wrong to mix races. - -Well, we didn -(TM)t. Be happy about that. - He sighed. -It looks like they -(TM)ve finished talking, - I said. We looked to see Mom and Oz hugging. It was a long, heartfelt hug. The rest, as they say, is history. My father did not alert the authorities that his children had committed incest at least four times. Both he and Mom treated their grandchildren like they were normal grandchildren. Adam was a bit aloof, but he was practically a man and had his attention firmly on the future. Both Hermione and Addie said they -(TM)d love to go camping and hunting with Grandpa and it was agreed that all three of the younger ones would go spend two weeks with Grandma and Grandpa the next summer. Hermione got a very good score on the SAT test and was accepted to The American Academy of Dramatic Arts, in New York City. She was given a slot as a diversity student, because she was raised outside America. She is popular with the boys, something that causes me grief, sometimes, but Oz keeps telling me she can take care of herself. She dove into acting, and got roles in all the productions the school put on. Her goal is to get roles on Broadway, but that -(TM)s probably years in the future. She lives with us and that -(TM)s fine. I can keep an eye on her, that way. Adam scored even higher on the SAT than his elder sister did. He got accepted at Cornell University, in Ithaca, which was convenient. It was three hours away, which was far enough for him to feel like he was on his own, but close enough that he could come home on holidays and the odd weekend. We had quite a bit of money saved up, so I bought him a three-year-old car. I cannot communicate how difficult it is to let your seventeen-year-old son go off -~on his own -(TM) like that. I worried more about him than Hermione, but of course I could see and talk to Hermione every day. Noah and Addie adapted well to American culture, but struggled in school. Both thought it was -boring - because they already knew most of what the curriculum for their age groups contained. Noah got in trouble several times for fighting and it wasn -(TM)t until they threatened to expel him from school that he explained it was because the boys he fought with -wanted to do things - to Addie. He wouldn -(TM)t tell me what those -things - were, but he was willing to tell his mother. I think it was because, at fifteen, he thought she -(TM)d understand better because she was female. It turned out that Addie like to tease the boys and while she -(TM)d been a bit late getting to puberty, it slammed into her like a Mack truck. At thirteen she already had what looked to me like fifteen or sixteen-year-old breasts. Add to that hair that had never been cut (except to trim off the ends) and a face magazines would like to have on their covers, and she invited boys to think of -things - they -(TM)d like to do with her. Boys, being boys, some of them told her brother what they -(TM)d like to do. That -(TM)s what the fights were about. Basically, Addie acted like her mother had at that age. I had a talk with Addie and explained exactly what she made boys want to do, going into detail. Call it sex education with a vengeance. Her behavior moderated after that, at least according to Noah. He stopped getting into fights, too. And that -(TM)s where things stand at present. We -(TM)ve been back in America for a year, now. Hopefully next year school will be more interesting for Noah and Addie. If not I may look into seeing if they can test into a higher grade. It won -(TM)t surprise me if Addie is the valedictorian of her high school class. Oz is a mid-level executive for Haverson, now and is good at her job, though she complains that having to wear real clothes is a pain in the ass. She doesn -(TM)t have to wear clothes at home, though, and wears some of the caftans and saris she brought back with her. Unless we -(TM)re in bed, of course. Then she wears nothing. She still loves to be on top and she still loves for me to nurse, even though she -(TM)s not making milk any longer. I still love to spurt in her. She -(TM)s been on the pill since India, so there haven -(TM)t been any more accidents. She teases me in bed, sometimes. She says I still owe her two babies. I remind her she -(TM)s forty-one. She reminds me that lots of women in Africa and India are still having babies at forty-one. But she also says it -(TM)s safe to cum in her. Hmmm. I -(TM)ve heard that before. I wonder if I should be worried.