Part One: At The Art Museum
A thunderstorm had caught me off guard while I was out in the open pushing my two children in a baby stroller, so I was glad to duck out of the heavy storm into the first doorway I could find. It was an old established art museum, but the sounds inside were surprisingly modern.
"Would you look at that fucking pencil dick," a young gravelly voice laughed out loud. I could tell from his street tones that he and his friends were all black and very male. "Shit, if I looked that small and sad, I wouldn't let no painter put it in no picture."
It was an exhibit of Nicolas Poussin's Renaissance oil painting of "Midas and Bacchus," painted on canvas in 1625, and on loan from the Pinakothek collection in Munich. And the lads were right. The guy in the painting did have a pencil dick.
"Nicolas Pissin--" one of the others said. "Yeah, that's about all that dick's good for is pissing."
"Little saint Nick and his little saint dick."
"No wonder all the other paintings have little robes and cloths dropped over their cocks," another young black man said. "They're too embarrassed to show what they got."
"More like what they ain't got."
More laughter.
"Looking at things like that you gotta wonder why there's so many white people."
"Oh that's easy," the gravelly voiced young man answered. "'Cause their women are so easy to find in the dark."
A long collective groan of snickers filled the air. I had just stepped around the corner, and I couldn't help myself. I laughed out loud. Naturally that garnered their attention.
"Whoa, hey mama! Did you think that was funny?" a smooth faced adolescent asked me.
"I'm only laughing because it's true," I replied. "My two men have no trouble finding me in the night. But I have to reach out and feel for them in the darkness."
"You got two men?"
I nodded. I stooped down and rolled back the mini-tarp that kept Darcie and Kane Michael's stroller covered up from the rain. The four young black men let their jaws drop at the sight of my children.
"Are both your men black like these two babies?"
"That's why my guys are so difficult for me to find in the dark," I added.
"Oh man, oh man, oh man!" All four of them crowded around the carriage to examine my two little mixed blood riders. I could see the wheels turning in four different heads as they looked down at the babies features and then looked up at mine.
"There's no way you'd ever have any difficulty finding me in the dark," the leader said. "Just follow the long handle."
The others laughed again.
Darcie smiled. Like both her mother, Shaleen, and I, Darcie loved the attention she got from men. But Kane was fussy from being out in the rain and wet. So I gently picked him up from the stroller and cradled him in my arms, while I helped Darcie to climb out as well. Once Darcie was out, I found a bench to sit down on and checked my son's diaper. Not too bad, really. But he shoved his fist into his mouth and I knew he wanted to be nursed.
Well, one thing for certain, I knew this particular crowd wouldn't mind at all if some white woman breast fed her biracial baby here inside the museum, and so I settled onto the bench, slipped my jacket open, and plopped out one milk engorged pale boob.
Four overgrown adolescent males were even more thrilled with that than my hungry little infant boy. But Kane Michael claimed first rights to my brownish pink nipple.
The group of them continued to ask me questions about my guys and my kids. I sketchily filled them in on my schedule and how my guys have to work nights.
"In fact I have to go home to wake them up pretty soon," I finished. "And one or both will be more than ready for a wake-up fuck."
Again a long impressive moan from the crowd issued forth.
"Do you all sleep in the same bed?" the smooth faced one asked.
I smiled and nodded. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
I could tell that they wanted to ask me for my number so that they might have the opportunity to fuck some forty year old white woman as well, but I wasn't quite in the mood for such games at the moment.
Finally the storm stopped, and I rounded up my wandering granddaughter, put both her and Kane back into the stroller and started to leave.
"Wait!" the gravelly voiced young man shouted. "Take this."
He handed me a piece of museum note paper with a phone number and a name written on it. I smiled. First I folded the paper in half and stuffed it down into my nursing bra. Then I put my hand out to his cheek and brought my lips close to kiss him. His other buddies began a chorus of "Oooo's" as my lips touched his.
"Someday I'll call," I whispered.
I think by the darkening of his skin, that he actually blushed more than I did.
"Really?"
I nodded. "Really."
*
Part Two: Five In One Bedroom.
Now, my bedroom is crowded. Very crowded.
There is the big crib on one side which holds my granddaughter, Darcie, and the smaller cradle in the corner where my son, Kane Michael sleeps. Desmond Emmons, both children's father, is most frequently found on the left edge of the king sized bed in the middle of the room, while is best friend, R.J. Tolliver is found on the right side.
That leaves the middle of the big bed for me to sleep or to try to sleep.
Often I have been awakened to two softly snoring men pushing against me in the middle of the morning and three or four hands clutching at various body parts while I try to sleep. And of course I've encountered two "morning erections" at full attention. I've never had so much affection and loving attention in my entire life as I do these days.
My neighborhood friends have pretty much stopped speaking to me, but I honestly don't miss them very much. Apparently a forty year old white woman has no business letting two black ex-convicts--one thirty-one and the other twenty-four live inside her home in a decent neighborhood like ours used to be.
"God only knows what those people do in that house."
Yeah, they might sleep five people in one bedroom.
Now the fact is that my guys are both young, vigorous, and horny enough to engage in daily fucking marathons even if they weren't hellbent for a race to see who gets me up-the-spout again. That's Brit slang for pregnant. So far--well they're content to keep trying.
Des takes his daughter Darcie to visit her mother, Shaleen, on visiting days at the correctional facility. My daughter is doing a minimum of four years for a mandatory drug sentence. That's the reason I got custody of her daughter, Darcie, in the first place. That's also the reason Darcie's father came to see her at my place. Circumstances lead to my allowing Des to cum inside of me, and that's a big part of the reason Des never left my home.
Shaleen still resents me having Des's baby. She thinks I betrayed her and Darcie, but my granddaughter loves her little baby brother, Kane Michael.
"Christ, mother!" she screamed at me over the phone. "How could you do this? How can he be Darcie's half-brother and my half-brother as well? That's just sick!"
But lately, she and Des have put their relationship on the mend. She really won't have any place else to go when she finally gets out, but here to our home. I think she just wants to vent about what how she feels about what happened between the man who fathered her baby and her own mother's baby as well.
I spend a lot of time with R.J. when I can. He and Des are surprisingly loving--even gentle lovers when they want to be--and I reciprocate in as many ways as I can.
Like I said before, a day doesn't go by where I don't fuck one, the other, or both. Now with the race to make a new baby going full out, I find myself with my panties removed or pushed aside and a long thick black cock driving in and out like an old piston engine several times a day. Needless to say, I've enjoyed a lot of raw sperm over the past weeks. I imagine there's a long queue of sperm cells lined up for a chance to fulfill their mission inside a forty year old white lady's womb.
It can't last forever. One day I'll wake up and find that I've missed a period and that my breasts are tender, or maybe I'll feel a bit queasy.
My days have been flying by in a daze.
Yesterday, I came home from work tired and sweaty and not looking forward to cooking and taking care of two children let alone two hungry black lovers, but Des smiled and told me that Kane was fast asleep and he had Darcie under control for the moment; so, why didn't I go upstairs to shower. I couldn't argue with logic like that.
I stripped down to shower and turned the water on to adjust the heat. A hand softly nudged my ass and a warm low voice murmured behind me.
"Lord, what a beautiful sight to see," R.J. said, as he bent down to kiss the cheek of my ass. "I can't tell you how thankful I am that you're such a huge part of my life."
"I think you saw me at my 'hugest!'" I said laughing. "Just before Kane was born."
"He was a big boy," R.J. turned me around to face him. He too was naked with his flagpole rising to full staff as he brought me close against him. "But you were the important one."
"Toll, stop! I need to shower."
"I want to scrub your back."
"Oh, for God's sake, okay," I sighed. "Come on in."
"Believe me I intend to do just that." He smiled.
He washed my back, breasts, arms, shoulders, and more with the same intensity that he would later use to caress my skin or to finger my pussy. We were all soap and fragrance, all touch and shivers, all kisses and sharing.
I dropped to my knees and put my hands and then my lips on his cock during our shower, but he stopped me after about five minutes of some very hard and continuous oral sex. We threw a couple of soft bath towels onto the bathroom floor, and R.J. took me right there. I couldn't help myself anymore. He was just so amazing.
"I'd like to have a daughter," he whispered. "Will you do that for me?"
