"Hi, Flo!" Still bouncing, despite Jim's earlier denouncing of his idea, he approached their volunteer babysitter and hugged her.
"Well, hello to you, too, young man." The older woman chuckled, always tickled by Blair's endless enthusiasm.
"How'd it go today?" Blair asked, finally releasing her.
Flo McGinty straightened her dress and fluffed her hair. "Oh, fine. Just fine. Those suggestions you made seem to have helped a lot," she commented. "I do think she's about ready to be fed again, though. She's growing like a little weed! I didn't remember that such little ones could eat so much."
"She's got a healthy appetite, all right," Blair chuckled. He headed toward the nursery, just as Laurene started to make soft whimpering noises. Picking her up, he headed out to the couch.
Curling his legs under him, Blair settled into the corner of the couch, cradling his daughter against his chest. She began to wetly suckle at his shirt, and he laughed. "You're right. She's hungry again." He pulled up his shirt, letting Laurene settle down to the serious business of feeding.
"This still amazes me no end," Blair commented as the baby suckled noisily. "When Lynne first suggested I might breastfeed, I thought it was the most disgusting thing, but the first time that little mouth latched on . . . it's like magic," he sighed. "Isn't it just incredible, Flo? She's feeding from me. Me. It shouldn't even be possible."
"And why would you say that, Dear?" Flo came to sit next to the nursing pair. "Men and women aren't that different. There are instances where fathers have nursed their newborns when the mothers have died in childbirth."
Blair looked up, surprised. "Yeah?"
"You should know. You're the anthropologist." She chuckled, ruffling a hand through the long curls.
"Flo, what do you think of the idea of us having another baby?" Blair ventured to ask.
"Oh, I think that would be wonderful, Dear. You two have been excellent fathers. Besides, I don't believe in only children, if there's a choice. The more, the merrier."
"Yeah, well, Jim doesn't seem to think the same way," Blair admitted.
"He's afraid," Flo said with finality. "He'll come around. Give him time." Standing, she went to gather her things. "Time I got going. James will be home soon. It sounds to me like you two have some discussing to do. Don't mind me. I'll let myself out."
As she began to open the door, the knob turned and the door pushed inward. "James!"
"Flo!" Jim backed up, giving their neighbor a chance to pass. "Sorry about that. Have a good evening."
"Thank you. You have a good evening, as well." She started to walk down the hall, then turned back. "Do Blair the courtesy of listening, James," she scolded before opening the door to her own apartment.
"What was that all about?" Jim asked, hanging up his coat and coming to settle next to Blair.
"You know," Blair hedged. "What we were talking about down at the PD."
"The answer's still no," Jim said in no uncertain terms.
"At least tell me why you feel that way. I really need to know, Jim. This is something that the more I think about it, the more I want it. It seems like something that should be discussed, you know?"
"I am discussing it. The answer's no." Jim got up and headed into the kitchen to see what Flo had put in the oven for their dinner.
"I mean it, Jim. If you're going to refuse without even listening to my side, I'd like to know your reasons." Blair stood up and crossed the room, cradling Laurene in one arm and gesturing toward Jim with the other.
Jim spun to face his persistent lover. "All right. How about you almost dying on me? Is that a good enough reason?"
"That was after I'd given birth, and even Lynne said the separation of the placenta was a rare thing. Chances are, it's not going to happen again," Blair argued.
"'Chances are' isn't good enough for me, Blair. I won't lose you! The pregnancy is risky, too. Remember how Lynne cautioned you could hemorrhage and die in the first three months? What about that? And how about the nausea? Have you forgotten that already? You spent three months in the bathroom puking up your guts and losing weight."
"Every pregnancy is different," Blair explained. "I might not be so nauseous next time. Even if I am, I'll know to ask for the anti-nausea meds sooner. I don't see that as such a big problem. Besides, once the vomiting let up, everything was great. The second trimester was a breeze. It was so cool feeling the baby kick, and watching the changes in my body. Once we told everyone down at the PD, it was kind of fun being the center of attention." He grinned, remembering how all the women had gathered around him, vying for a chance to lay a hand on his softly rounding abdomen.
"I remember you not particularly liking the changes in your body. By the time we were able to have sex again, you were downright embarrassed by it."
"That was my first pregnancy, Jim. Of course things would feel strange. I didn't know how you'd react. I seem to remember you being turned on by the changes. You loved me pregnant. Admit it."
"I'm not admitting to anything," Jim answered stubbornly. "How about when you blew up like a blimp? You can't say much good about that last trimester. I remember you complaining about not being able to see your dick, wondering if it had shrunk, for God's sake! Remember the bladder infection? The difficulty you had simply peeing the last month?" As Jim enumerated each new item he got more and more into Blair's face, until he was mere inches from the younger man.
Blair took the opportunity to place a quick kiss on Jim's lips before countering with his own arguments. Startled by the nonsequitur, Jim backed off a step. "I haven't forgotten all that," Blair assured him. "But none of it lasts very long, and look at the results." He fussed over the infant who had just finished her feeding, putting her over his shoulder to burp.
"The answer's still no," Jim said, digging in his heels and refusing to budge.
"Well, I'm not ready yet, anyway," Blair told him. "I'd want to have Laurene weaned first; maybe wait until after her first birthday. I'm not done discussing this, but I'll drop it for now. What's for dinner?"
Gladly switching gears, Jim walked over to the oven and pulled out the casserole. "Looks like a Shepherd's Pie. Do we still have any of those rolls you baked a couple days ago?"
"Yeah, I think there's a few left," Blair answered. "How about some salad to round it out?"
After putting Laurene in her swing next to the dining table, the men settled down to enjoy their dinner.
May 14, Mother's Day:
Jim walked up the stairs carrying a breakfast tray and a rose. "Happy Mother's Day, Sweetheart," he greeted his drowsy lover.
Blair wiped the sleep from his eyes, smiling appreciatively at the offering. "For me?"
"I don't see any other mothers in the room." He looked around suspiciously. "You don't have Naomi hidden in the closet, do you?"
Blair snorted in his orange juice, nearly choking as he tried to drink. "Not that I know about," he chortled. "But knowing Naomi, anything's possible."
Jim crawled up onto the bed and picked up a piece of crisply fried bacon, feeding it to Blair, who munched with a wistful smile. "You're too good to me, you know that?"
Jim leaned in to kiss the greasy lips, tasting the wonderful combination of bacon and Blair. "Mmmm . . . not half as good as I'm going to be." He continued to pepper Blair with kisses to his cheek and throat, while the younger man tried valiantly to eat his breakfast.
"Ah! Ah! Cut that out!" Blair gasped around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Jim had pushed the blankets down and was currently nibbling on one peaked nipple. "Gods, Jim, not while I'm eating!" Involuntarily, he arched into the touch, nearly toppling the tray across his lap.
Taking a moment away from his pleasure, Jim steadied the tray, then lifted it and set it on the floor. Straddling Blair, he returned to teasing the taut nipples. Blair humped into him, pressing his erection against Jim's stomach through the blanket that separated their bodies.
Slowly, Jim inched downward, pushing the blanket lower and lower. His kisses followed the arrow of chest hair to Blair's stomach, where his tongue swirled wetly around Blair's navel. His lover bucked under him, squirming away from the tickling.
Grabbing at the short hair on Jim's head, Blair attempted to push the questing mouth lower, but Jim refused to give in. Rising onto his knees, he leaned forward once more, capturing Blair's mouth, sucking on the probing tongue. While using one arm to brace himself, Jim pinched and pulled at the sensitive nipples with his other hand.
He finally released Blair's mouth, and smiled mischievously down on his panting lover. "Bet I can make you come with nipple stimulation alone," he bragged, diving back to nip at a hard bud.
"Ah - ah - ow! Oh, Jim! Ah - oh!" Blair tossed on the bed, arching his hips in an attempt to get some friction against his aching cock. "Cut it out! Damn, Jim, this is so unfair!"
"You want me to stop?" Jim sat up and stared down at the sweat-drenched body beneath him. He pushed the blankets lower, and a swollen, purple cock jumped out to meet him, pre-come dripping from the tip. "You're so close. Look how beautiful you are," he whispered.
Blair whimpered. Thrusting his hips upward, he begged for release. "Please, Jim. Oh, God, please finish!"
"As you wish." Jim untied his robe and threw it aside, lowering himself so that Blair's cock brushed against his chest. He felt the quiver that ran through the length of his lover's body at the touch. As he moved himself upward, Blair's penis traced a moist line down the center of his chest. He leaned down to seal his lips around one small breast, letting his tongue lave the tender bud. He could feel the stiff cock knocking against his stomach, so he captured the nipple with his teeth and pulled.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Blair cried out, writhing under him. "Jim! Jiiiiiim!" His entire body spasmed and he felt hot semen coat his stomach and chest as his orgasm overtook him. The last of the shudders left him limp and spent. Eyes closed, he basked in the feeling of completion.
Jim sat back on his haunches, observing the naked body beneath him. Taking one finger, he began to trace patterns in the semen on Blair's stomach. One blue eye cracked open at the touch to observe him.
"I love you, too," Blair sighed, after seeing what Jim had written in the come. He let his head drop back onto the pillows and allowed his eyes to close once more.
Jim picked up a t-shirt that had been abandoned on the floor by the bed, and wiped Blair's chest and stomach clean, pulling the blankets up to cover the cooling body. Blair grabbed hold, and pulled the blankets up under his chin.
Jim stretched out beside him, stroking tousled curls and admiring the angelic face of his lover in repose.
"That wasn't fair, you know." Blair spoke softly, eyes still closed. "You know how sensitive my nipples are since I've been nursing. You took advantage of that."
"You asked me to finish. You didn't tell me to stop," Jim argued back, keeping his voice low.
"You know what I mean," Blair said, even though, at this point, Jim didn't have a clue. "If I'd never been pregnant, never had Laurene, you wouldn't have been able to do that. Yet you seem inordinately proud of yourself that you could."
"Is that a bad thing?" Jim wondered.
"Well, no," Blair conceded. "Except that you don't want me to get pregnant again, yet you get sexually aroused by my pregnant and lactating body. What does that say?"
"It says I think you're especially sexy when you're pregnant or nursing. That doesn't make a pregnancy any safer, and it certainly isn't a good reason to get pregnant again."
"No, it's not," Blair agreed, finally opening his eyes and turning his head to look at his lover. "But you can't deny you like it."
"No. I won't deny it. It doesn't change my mind, though."
"I don't want Laurene to be an only child," Blair began. "I want us to have a son, a brother for Laur. That doesn't mean that I don't love our daughter. I do, Jim. She's the most precious thing in my life, next to you. But I want a son, too. Someone to pass on the Sandburg-Ellison name. A companion for Laurene, somebody for her to play with. Somebody she can call on for help and support when we're gone.
"I promise, Jim. This will be the last pregnancy. Just this one more, and I'll never bring it up again."
Jim lay quietly, studying his partner and mulling over some of the arguments.
"Jim?" Blair probed when his partner remained silent.
"I'm processing," he replied, grinning. A few moments later, he spoke again. "I still don't like the idea, Blair. It's too risky for you. But give me some time. I'll think about it."
"Wonderful!" Blair cried out, knowing now that it was only a matter of time. "Um, Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm hungry."
May 24:
"How do I look?" Blair stood nervously at the foot of the stairs.
Jim looked up from breakfast preparations to stare. Blair looked stunning in the tailored navy blue suit Jim had bought him for his birthday. It was complimented by a blue shirt that matched his eye color perfectly, and a diagonally striped navy blue tie. Instead of the usual silver hoops, Blair's earlobe sported a diamond stud, a gift from Naomi. With his hair tied back in a neat ponytail, he looked ready to face the world . . . and his doctoral committee.
"You look amazing. You'll knock 'em dead on looks alone," Jim assured him.
"I wish it was going to be that easy," Blair said, walking over to the table and sitting down. "It takes a little bit more than a nice suit to convince the committee to hand over a degree." Jim set a plate of waffles and a bowl of strawberry compote in front of him. "Ah, gee, Jim," Blair sighed. "I think I'm too nervous to eat."
"When do you give your presentation?"
"At ten o'clock." Blair took a sip of coffee and watched as Jim dug in hungrily to his stack of waffles.
"It's just eight now," Jim reminded him. "You'd better at least try to eat something. It wouldn't do to have you passing out in the middle of your presentation."
"I might just do that anyway," Blair admitted.
Jim laughed. "You are the one person I know who could talk to anyone, at any time, for any length of time, on practically any subject and sound like a genius. This is something you've been studying for what, the past six years?"
"Closer to eight," Blair mumbled, taking a small bite of waffle to see how it would sit in his stomach.
"If you can't convince a few stuffed shirts that you know what you're talking about, I'll quit my job and move back to Peru."
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