Adamonde. Benjamin Vance
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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 his dream, then it wasn’t a dream and his cell was in the dining room. He threw back the covers and all that was left of Adamonde was a big wet spot. On his way to the dining room he heard her answer the phone with a chirp and a chortle. When he rounded the corner of the hall she was standing there nude, with a small towel between her legs and a sleepy smile on her face. He overheard someone on the phone saying, “Adamonde, Adamonde, is that you?” She stuck out her arm with the phone, he took it and kissed her; she hugged him warmly around the middle.
“Hi Linda, it’s me. What can I do for you? Did you get blood work back already?”
“Yeah, Jonathan, and I got a lot of questions about it from one of the pathologists. I haven’t returned his call yet, and won’t ‘til we talk. Can I come over to your place to show you what I have so far?”
Adamonde chirped and hopped once. He said, “Yeah, sure Linda. Come over after work or whenever. But, can I ask you a favor? Will you stop and pick up a bag of marshmallows and three or four cherry-filled doughnuts?”
“Oooo … kay, I guess they’re for Adamonde, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s clapping her hands behind my back already. Okay, see you sometime after 5:30. Be careful.”
Linda arrived about 6:15 p.m. with a dozen doughnuts and two bags of marshmallows. Adamonde practically attacked her at the door. She hugged Linda and grabbed a bag of white. She took them to the sofa squatted with her legs under her and tore open the bag. She crammed the first one in her mouth, growling. Amazed, Linda looked at her and asked, “Why does she keep her finger in front of her face when she eats?”
Jonathan said, “Don’t ask. Where’s the blood work. What’s the problem with it Linda?”
There’s no problem with it, per se. It’s just strange; the combinations and all. I really don’t know which animal to compare it to, and it certainly isn’t human. It looks like a cross between reptile and maybe … marsupial? Her red blood cells are definitely nucleated. And they seem to me to be constructed like our leukocytes or rather neutrophils … to be more specific I guess. In other words they’re disease killers. All her other cells are constructed the same way, except they’re bigger and ovoid or oblong or even kind of square sometimes. It looks like a circus in there. I’d hate to be a bacterial cell in her system.”
He looked at Adamonde who was smiling and stuffing another marshmallow into her mouth, “Soooo, I take it the pathologist can be placated with a bull shit scenario?”
Oh, yeah, he’s my bee-och anyway. First time I met him at his lab he tried to get me to go to lunch with him. He’s not my type in any case, but I get pathology comments from him for free whenever I want ‘em. I just make up some story about the blood getting mixed. What I really wanted to show you are the radiographs; just wait. Do you have a computer with DVD drive?”
“Of course, come on into the office. Do you have the disk with you?”
“Oh yeah, wait ‘till you see it. Here, Adamonde’s radiographs are the only ones on it, so you can keep it if you want. I’d keep it in a safe place, like a safety deposit box or something.”
He loaded up the disk and soon a strange being with 16 ribs came into focus along with a strong spine and loads of internal stuff he had no clue about. Adamonde chortled as if it were a common site.
Dr. Linda started pointing and explaining, “These bones here are what we call collar bones, or clavicles, but hers are savagely strong and set into deep sockets in her scapulae, see. Her neck has a large nuchal ligament which connects her skull with her spine. It seems too strong for someone as small as she, but you say she is very strong, so it’s probably a vestige of a past requirement. Her pubic bones, such as they are, don’t connect with other bones or her spine, but are actually separated by a type of cartilage I guess. They look like they’re just