Actually, the story isn't mine, but I wanted to rewrite it, cutting off the smut. It's not The Nasty Milf vs. da Hood story.
*****
Jenna pushed open the heavy metal doors to the old school building and ran down the long, unlit corridors. Time had gotten away from her this morning and now she was cursing traffic and her miserable time management skills. Aside from hurrying to make the start of the event however, Jenna also felt an underlying anima driving her forward. There was something in the universe that she was running away from, or towards.
The girl who just turned 23, got a subpoena, prescribing her to take part in social services’ duties in the refugee camp. She underwent a thorough medical examination, the gynecologist asked her if she was on birth control. Also, the doctors were relieved that she had no boyfriend, they said it was easier that way.
A final left turn and Jenna was where she needed to be, standing at the entrance of the old gymnasium. From one end of the cavernous gym, all one could see were rows upon rows of low beds, partitioned with white sheets that billowed in the gusts of the oscillating wall fans. Most of the sheets were drawn back as the occupants of the cubicles, young white girls not older than 28, fraternised with their neighbours or moved freely about. The setup was not unlike makeshift hospitals Jenna had often seen in historical wartime movies, although these participants met under much less horrifying circumstances.
'Jenna Simmons, number eighty-three.'
A matronly woman ticked off Jenna's name on her chart and indicated to Jenna which aisle she should walk down.
'Ten minutes to spare,' the woman said with an arched eyebrow. Her golden name tag bore the title Madame DuPlessis.
A small board that bore the number eighty-three marked the cubicle that Jenna had been approved to occupy. The curtain on the side of number eighty-four was open, and a long legged, friendly looking redhead was smiling from her nook.
'Hi, I'm Jenna.'
'Hey Jenna. Emily. My boyfriend drove me here. And you?’
‘No, I came alone’.'
Emily sat on the side of her bed, watching Jenna place her bag on the night-stand and take in her surroundings apprehensively. Some girls were fully clothed, while some were loitering stark naked. Emily was wearing a white sundress. Others had chosen a happy medium, like a long T-shirt, but with no undergarments beneath it. Jenna appeared to have no idea what to do next after putting her belongings away.
'First time?' Emily nervously fidgeted her legs.
'Yes,' Jenna replied too quickly, betraying both her excitement and her nerves. 'What about you?'
'The same.'
Madame DuPlessis went to their cubicle.
'You two got subpoenas, so you must take part in a refugee assistance drive.'
'Wow,' Jenna nodded in a fluster at the older woman. 'What... what should we do now?'
'You're just waiting really. You can get undressed, or not.' Emily lay back onto the propped pillows, but continued to observe Jenna and Madame. Her full and round breasts heaved under her sundress in time with her breath.
Feeling the need to comply, but also self-conscious, Jenna decided to take off her tight jeans that were difficult to get out of, but leave the rest of her garments on. The long flowy blouse that she wore hovered over the top of her thighs and provided a modicum of modesty.
Madame DuPlessis continued talking, all in business.
‘Do you have children?’
'I've never been pregnant before.' Emily said shyly. Jenna shook her head negatively.
'Then you’ll be, I hope. Those guys over there are really desperate. They will soon be deported back to Africa, and they have applied for family immigration, but don’t have any blооd relatives here. So they will try and conceive a baby with you, young ladies.'
‘Jesus, I have a b...’ Emily had stopped short in the middle of a sentence and now looked wide-eyed to Jenna to guide her in the final moments before kick off. 'I just attended the Summer Dance. And I met my boyfriend there, he’s waiting for me outside.' She gave Jenna a tortured smile and blushed.
A clanging bell rang out from near the entrance, which silenced the chatter of the waiting ladies.
'Girls, the boys are nearly done with collecting their food and clothes. Prepare yourselves please. And a gentle reminder that after you leave today it is very important that you do not go off and have any other dalliances, until you have confirmed your pregnancy, please.' Madam DuPlessis huffed. 'We want no complications with paternity!'
'You have to remember that they are just as nervous as you are, if not more so. These poor men. Coming from difficult circumstances and some of them having lived as illegals for years. I don't think they ever dreamed that such a reception was possible.'
'Do we talk to each other? What do you usually say?' Emily asked worriedly.
'Well... not much usually. A lot of them don't speak English and really, they know full well the reason they are here so there isn't anything to explain. Today's boys are from the Democratic Republic of the Congo so they'll mostly speak French.'
Emily flicked her wrist and clapped her face in horror. Jenna felt no better, but she felt more sorry for the poor girl and wanted to calm her.
'Any last minute tips?' Jenna asked Madame hastily.
'You might want to prepare yourself,' she hinted suggestively. 'Some of those boys are desperate, haven't had a woman for months maybe and are ready to pounce. You have to remember that this is about their pleasure. Their release. Accommodate your man as best you can. You can use KY gel, the bottles on the night-stands near your beds.'
Jenna nodded and ran her fingers over the top of her panties.
'Don't worry! Trust me. With the right attitude you'll have fun with them.' Madame winked and drew shut the curtain before their beds. She also wanted to do the same with the curtain between the girls, but Emily protested, she obviously was afraid to be alone with a strange black man.
Ensconced alone within their world reduced to the four flowing screens of the little white booth, Emily sat on the bed, drew her knees up to her chest and waited, slightly rocking back and forth on the bed. Pattering footfalls proceeded down the aisle, approaching their cubicle, but then receding again into the distance.
Suddenly, the entrance to the cubicle was flung open and Jenna found herself face to face with a dark, serious looking man. He was clean shaven and bald, the skin of his head smooth, shiny, and taut. The eyes were solemn, but piercing, and deep set, emphasising his high cheekbones. Simple clothes hung on his frame. A light blue cotton button down, grey jeans, but he wore them like regalia with an air of gravity. To look on him was to look on a world weary monarch, an alpha lion sequestered from its pride and territory, compelled for too long to capitulate to hostile foreign legions.
Jenna shivered as a wave of obscure spirituality crept over her. Something in her subconscious was whispering that a great honour had been bestowed, and which guardedly permitted her to bear the offspring that would anchor the dark man to this new land.
Touching her hand to her chest, she said simply, 'Jenna.'
'Antoine.'
No other words passed between Jenna and Antoine. He had not yet entered the cubicle but instead stood motionlessly at the entrance, casting his eye over Jenna and the small space. After a few moments Antoine caught himself. He gave her what appeared to be a small smile of apology and finally stepped in, pulling the curtain shut behind him.
From the next bed came the sound of husky murmuring in French and Emily saying her name in a shaky voice. She was embraced by a tall and lean young black man. He held her by the waist, and was telling her ‘Je suis Nabendu. Vous êtes si belle. Je veux un enfant de toi.’ Emily just smiled helplessly while he caressed her derrière with his big black hands. ‘I have a boyfriend.” Emily said to her black soon-to-be lover, but Nabendu just smiled and pulled up her sundress to feel her white smooth buttocks. ‘Tu as de si beaux yeux, laisse notre enfant avoir tes yeux.’
The beds that had been prepared for the drive were of the type that was often found in institutions. Metal framed, top sprung, creaky. The drive was after all, more about practical efficiency and achieving important results than luxury and enjoyment. As the event kicked off, the gymnasium gradually filled with the sounds of bed frames squeaking, low breathy grunts, and lusty cries of debauchery.
Also, just as Madame DuPlessis had forewarned, there were the occasional yelps of discomfort as women who had not taken the time to lubricate their pussies were faced with the giant manhood of their African lovers. These were the sex-starved men, their cocks already bursting the seams of their trousers long before they were confronted with the plump and willing pussies of submissive white women. In this area where they were granted the right to act with impunity, it did not take long for them to be pressing fervently into the fertile wombs before them. Their irresistible potent male libidos would soon provoke an excitable bedewing of the tight passages fоrcеd to expand for their conquering masters, but until then, mewling cries of distress continued to ring out.
Antoine sat down on the thin mattress, his back to Jenna. He removed his socks and shoes, then turned his head to look serenely at her. Somehow, Jenna understood that she was to undress him. She crawled across the bed to Antoine and draping her arms over his shoulders, began to release the buttons of his shirt as she rested her chin on his left shoulder. Antoine's deep and slow breaths had a soothing rhythm that Jenna soon found herself breathing in time to as well.
When the buttons were all undone Jenna took the shirt off his back like a cloak. Thick muscles rippled powerfully in Antoine's back as he shrugged the shirt off. If it had not felt like overstepping a boundary Jenna would have leaned in to kiss them tenderly. Instead she merely traced their firm outline with her fingertips in a reverential and trance-like gesture. When she was roused from her reverie Jenna draped the shirt over the end of the bed, then wrapped her arms around Antoine's waist, deft fingers plucking at the stud on his coarse jeans.
If Jenna had been able to have a bird's eye view of the goings-on in the gym, she would have been horribly turned on by the lurid sights. Most everyone else was coupled now to varying degrees, and so the gym was filled with endless columns of dark and light pairs moving against and exploring each other. Of the deprived ones who were already heedlessly humping their charges, some who were lucky enough to be allotted places next to friends had thrown back the dividers. These wild characters high-fived and fist-bumped each other, licking their lips in proposition as they shamelessly ogled the swaying breasts of their compatriot's mate. The men did not swap partners however. They had been cautioned on the importance of knowing with certainty who had been impregnated by whom.
There were other men who were taking their time to examine every inch of the pale nymph they had been assigned to. Pink buds and white curves were stroked, sucked, caressed, while lithe white hands encouraged these affectionate overtures. The remainder of them joyously laid back in wonder at their woman's efforts to keep them aroused. Never did they dream that in this white man's country they could be so exquisitely serviced, and not even at their own behest.
Within the four walls of Antoine's dominion affairs were progressing a little more slowly, but this was not to the displeasure of the two interested parties. Antoine stood up with his jeans unbuckled, allowing Jenna, who had slipped off the bed and sidled to face him, to slide them down in one clean motion. The rough denim caught the material of his white boxers and the garments came off as one. Antoine coolly stepped out of his pooled clothes.
Jenna, meanwhile, remained crouched before him, as she was momentarily enchanted by the reveal of his manhood. Antoine's penis was large as she expected, but not intimidatingly so. It hung slightly away from his body with an elegant curve, looking taut, ready and expectant. Getting down on her knees, Jenna reached out to start caressing its length with both hands.
Antoine was not an old man, but that aura could not be young. It drew Jenna in, intoxicated her, made her want to kneel in exaltation but also to splay her legs wantonly -- to be an adherent and a whore in the one body. She wanted so badly for him to be pleased with her. Acceding to what ordinarily would be expected next of her, Jenna leaned forward in order to take the burgeoning head between her lips. At that, Antoine immediately took a step backwards and held Jenna back by her shoulders. A scandalised expression crossed his face and he shook his head grimly.
Jenna felt a hot wave of embarrassment and chagrin wash over her as she floundered for what to do next. Sensing her discomfort, Antoine helped her up and guided her to stand at the foot of the bed. He himself climbed onto the mattress to stretch out with arms extended as he leaned back against the frame and pillows. Antoine crossed his arms and lifted them over his head indicating that she should strip, but also then held his palm towards her with fingers spread and dropped it slowly to mean that she wasn't to hurry the exercise. She nodded, and they shared a small smirk of amusement at the effectiveness of the body language.
Jenna rolled her thin, white blouse lazily upwards, exposing her flat belly inch by inch, slackening her pace as she reached the underside of her bra cups, then languidly drew the blouse up and over, pulling free a few strands of hair from her up-do. All the while she swayed her hips seductively and kept her eyes on Antoine's aspect of approval.
As Jenna undid the clasp of her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders, she could hear a sound of rustling clothes on the next bed. Emily raised her hands up and Nabendu was pulling her sundress off. The girl was in matching white lacy bra and panties. Nabendu delightedly stroked her sides while Emily was trying to unclasp the bra behind. The African chuckled, looking at her freckles on her chest and shoulders. But when Emily rolled off her panties, Nabendu just exhaled in admiration. He tried to touch that trimmed fiery bush, but Emily sharply covered herself.
Antoine's penis twitched in response the sounds of arousal echoing in the great hall. He motioned to Jenna, who climbed onto the mattress and crawled towards her waiting lover. She did so badly want for Antoine to launch into a ravenous lovemaking session, to be on the receiving end of unrelenting ploughing like Emily was that would make her feel sexy and desirable. Still though, Antoine dawdled. He cradled Jenna in the crook of his arm, while with his other hand he traced the smooth curve of her hip and strong muscles in her thighs. The wandering fingers made their way upwards to caress her soft bosom. Each was cupped and squeezed in turn. Then, as if he were at play, Antoine lifted her breasts and let them lightly fall against her skin, chuckling at their weightiness.
It was clear that he felt genuine admiration for Jenna's beguiling shape and assets, and the attention was starting to make her feel not just desirable, but worthy. As some girl let out a particularly lascivious cry Jenna clung to Antoine's burly arm, pushing her lower body against him, hinting that she needed him to start stoking the wet flame that was growing within.
In response, Antoine used the arm that Jenna was resting on to press her face up against his bulging chest muscle. Jenna's lips had fallen apart and as they grazed Antoine's nipple they instinctively closed around it, tugging, biting, flicking. Jenna had never been with a man who enjoyed having his nipples stimulated, but this was obviously having an invigorating effect on Antoine whose cock hardened considerably.
On the next bed Emily lay on her back and modestly covered her privates by her hands. Nabendu turned her on her side, facing him. He gently caressed her back, the flare of her hips and buttocks. ‘N'ayez pas peur de moi, ouvrez simplement vos jolies jambes et laissez-moi faire de vous la mère de notre enfant.’ He put his big calloused hand on her tender flat belly. ‘Bientôt, votre ventre sera gros et rond.’ Somehow the words that Emily couldn’t even comprehend soothed her enough and she lay on her back and slowly parted her thighs in invitation for Nabendu. ‘Please, be gentle’ Emily whispered to her black lover. Jubilantly, the young African took his rightful place between the white girl’s legs, lovingly caressed her fiery pubic hair and started to seek her entrance between her pink folds with his jutting cock.
Only when Jenna had latched on and was sucking urgently on the hard bead did Antoine let his free hand fall to Jenna's nether region. He played with her pubic hair, coiling it around his fingers, then spread open the lips of her pussy and inserted one exploratory finger. Jenna exhaled in relief at the touch that she had been craving. Her hips rocked, pushing the stirring finger further in and towards her favoured spot. Suddenly one finger was three stroking insistently in a beckoning gesture. Carnal instinct guided Jenna to move with the same rhythm. She tried her best to squeeze the muscles in her passage tightly around the probing digits, but soon lost control as she came in a shiver of delight.
Antoine was far more attuned to the secrets of her body than he let on, for he did not cease the inciting caresses when he saw that Jenna had found her peak. He continued to plumb her depths, rubbing still but more lightly now the centres of her folds that had caused such rapture. Antoine's tender persistence swelled the heights of Jenna's enjoyment. Before she could come down from one peak a new wave pushed her into soaring toe-curling, sheet-clutching euphoria.
When Jenna finally came to she saw that Antoine was now hovering above her, waiting impatiently to push his ramrod of a dick into her. Not having yet recovered from the sensitivities of her high and still in a daze, Jenna rested her hand on her mound and fanned her fingers out which she hoped would signal to Antoine to hold off. Antoine either did not understand or see her hand as he kneed her legs apart, focused entirely on his own purpose now. The reveal of this latent dominant spirit that Jenna had sensed in him made her insides tremble with anticipation, and she compliantly tilted her pelvis upwards to meet his entry.
Jenna watched the stiff black member disappear and felt in turn her empty throbbing hole fill up and distend -- so different from the lithe stroking fingers but just as gratifying. The continuous stimulation inflamed Jenna's overwrought nerve endings and she felt all at once a stirring heat and a bracing cool in her delicate privates. Unable to comprehend the conflicting sensations, Jenna tossed her head fitfully and whimpered, her little cries continuing as Antoine barrelled in resolutely.
Jenna regarded Antoine's imposing form as he moved above her, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Even though a word had not passed between them, she hoped that the gentle purr of her moaning would make him feel desired and loved, as much as it was stoking her aching desire to be filled with black seed. She wanted her first baby to be conceived in a whirlwind of tenderness and passion. With that thought Jenna reached up with both arms and pulled Antoine close.
Jenna could hear the sound of the next bed creaking in a steady rhythm. Emily and Nabendu were coupled in the missionary position like Jenna and Antoine and Nabendu was rhythmically fucking his white mate partner. Emily's hands were by her side and her legs were spread widely, but her feet were hovering off the mattress. One minute turned to two and then three as Nabendu kept up his slow, but relentless pace. His head had been resting next to Emily's, but suddenly he raised himself on his arms and arched his back as if stretching. ‘Tu es si jolie, et tu es à moi!’ Nabendu said to the girl and it had an immediate effect on Emily. Her legs lifted further so that her knees pulled back towards her body, her hands grabbed Nabendu's arms at the elbows and she let out a long sexy moan.
Jenna could see sweat beads start to form on his black back then run across his sides. Emily's hands travelled up his arms and rested on his shoulders, as her sounds became more distinct and deliberate.
"Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh..." she gasped softly, now in rhythm to his strokes. While Emily's left hand was still on his shoulder, her right hand had wandered to his lower back as if to guide his motions.
"Don't stop," Jenna heard her say as a soft plea when Nabendu's movements halted for a second.
Amazingly, he did resume and her knees raised further until her feet were touching his ass. Soon, her soft sighs and moans returned too.
Suddenly, with no warning, her body stiffened once, then twice and sharp spasms quickly followed wracking through her. Both her hands went to Nabendu's ass, and Jenna could see the muscles in her arms stand out as she pulled herself hard against him.
"Oh God, don't stop Nabendu," she panted in a heavy whisper, that was clearly audible.
Nabendu's pace never faltered and even as she began to catch her breath and come down he stayed in rhythm and continued his grunting noises. Emily's hands had fallen back to his elbows and her legs were down so that her feet were wrapped behind his ass.
Then, without warning, Emily patted her hands on his shoulders and spoke.
"Nabendu, stop. Please stop," she said in a soft whisper, but after several seconds of no response, she tried again, "Please stop. Just for a second."
"Je n'ai pas encore fini," he answered in a confused voice, but kept moving
"Just for a second Nabendu," she said, now almost begging.
Nabendu slowed and then stopped and Emily guided his hips to the side so his cock left her swollen pussy. Jenna thought that Emily had had enough and was going to ease from under him, but instead she reached for the bottle of lubricant and poured a healthy portion in her hand then brought it between them and out of the line of sight. Nabendu moved and closed the view, but Jenna was still able to see her use the lotion then guide Nabendu’s cock back inside her body to continue their coupling.
Nabendu quickly regained his pace, although now Jenna could hear a squishing sound as his black cock plunged into the well lubricated white pussy. Nabendu did his stretch again and lifted himself onto his hands and off her body, but this time though he stayed in the position as they continued to fuck.
Antoine's straining forceful thrusts into Jenna's passage reached a fever pitch, the hot shaft between Jenna's legs barely retracting an inch before its full length was slammed inward again. He lay fully prone on top of her, the weight of him pressing down onto their pubis also inciting pleasure in her swollen nub. Jenna was no longer fully aware of her surroundings. Her eyes rolled back invоluntarily as she tightened the clutchеs of her one hand on the back of Antoine's head, and the other arm thrown around his neck.
As the light began to swim before her eyes and her breathing reduced to whimpering gasps, she felt Antoine turn his head towards her cheek, brushing his lips against her ear. He spoke slowly in a low rumble of thunder, the pace of his words totally at odds with the frenzied motion of their bodies. Yet the act and the voice were one, tugging on the edges of Jenna's lucidity to pull her over the edge.
Jenna knew full well that Antoine was not speaking in English. She heard the lilting and guttural stops of his native tongue thrumming against her ear. However she also grasped with certainty what it was that he so crucially needed to tell her and their soon to be conceived baby. For all time after that moment Jenna could repeat faithfully what Antoine had intoned, but she never ever did so out loud.
Into her right ear he whispered:
Little one you will not be born over your fathеr's land and you will be birthed by a foreign mothеr. But listen to papa when he tells you that you are a ruler of a people and one day a kingdom will be yours. Papa will lay the kindling at your feet for you to light the way. Be good to your mom and grow up strong. Once I have laid the path I will be back.
Antoine pulled away from Jenna's embrace only to adjust his head and let his lips fall against her left ear:
Beautiful woman the gods have decreed that you will be the mom of my first baby. Suckle it well and keep it from harm. I will leave you for an age but not for longer than you can stand. For the nine months of pain that this baby will give you and for the five years afterwards that I will, take this moment of pleasure that can bring you to heaven.
The utterances flowed into Jenna and spread a warmth that enveloped her body and the farthest reaches of her consciousness. As she squirmed against the sensation, Antoine propped himself up on his elbows and now looked at her squarely in the face, commanding her, still in his native language.
Jenna repeated her understanding faithfully.
'I will make you a fathеr.' The words excited a gush of liquid in her battered pussy.
Antoine reiterated his mandate and so did Jenna her vow.
'I will make you a fath -- '
The last syllable was lost in a scream and a tempest-tossed sea of unending еcstasy. The contracting muscles in Jenna's pulsing vagina drew forth and gratefully soaked up the sacred seed. In the proceeding years Jenna would touch herself many times reliving this union which made her into a believer in a higher plane of existence. In the moment however, she was a soul adrift, wandering on the very brink of reality, uncertain about how she would fall back down to earth. Her field of vision was lit up by dark lights and the body she inhabited quaked in euphoria and fear.
Finally, it was the tears in her eyes that brought Jenna back to the realisation of where she was. She thought she might have been swimming or underwater for a long time for how heavy her breathing was. Instead when she opened her eyes, Jenna saw that Antoine was dressed and sitting on the side of the bed in the same placid way that he had when he first entered.
A silence lingered between them and it felt like an opportunity to reach out to him. Jenna wanted to ask what would happen to him, to her, their baby. He had said that she would have to wait. Would she not see him? What would she do alone with the baby? What should she? She hadn't the words.
Antoine busied himself, folding the blanket and fluffing up pillows to slide under Jenna's bum. Then, placing a palm on Jenna's soft belly, Antoine said simply, 'Henri.' He stood up and made to leave, but turned as if he had forgotten something and added with a chuckle, 'Henriette.'
Without a backward glance Antoine lifted the flap that shielded the entry to their private domain and was gone. The curtain fell back into place as before, rustling as if all that had been was the wind.
One by one as and when they had emptied their load into the receptive white wombs and recovered from the intoxicating high, the men drifted out of the hall and the school building. They were given the contact details of the white girl they had been with and were each reminded by way of a little pamphlet that they could know about the pregnancy and delivery. Nine months from now, a reminder would be sent for them to check in on the status of the delivery, and then to lodge the applications that would ensure their permanent stay in the country. All their babies, the fathers-to-be were assured, would be mentored, cared for, and afforded the best education, food, and clothes that money could buy.
The bed to her left creaked relentlessly. Jenna saw that Emily and Nabendu reached the crescendo of their coupling. Nabndu resolutely fucked his white partner, Emily vigorously rocked her hips, meeting his thrusts. Jenna held her breath watching the obsidian black body against the soft, creamy Emily’s body. Jenna could see him tighten up, his movements picking up intensity. She could hear his breathing deepen, becoming grunts, ever more ragged and desperate. His hands gripped Emily tighter, his head lifted and leaned back, exposing the dark muscles and sinews of his neck. And then he exploded. He gasped for air, mouth wide, trembling, shuddering, eyes rolling back into his head as his thrust into Emily in the last time, spearing the girl as he injected a heavy load of his DNA into her womb.
Jenna could hear Emily’s gasps, moans, and whimpers.
The black man and white girl just lay in the tight intimate embrace, catching their breath, being grateful to each other. Jenna could hear the soft murmurs of the unlikely couple. ‘I know you just gave me your baby.’ Emily whispered to Nabendu. ‘J'attendrai neuf mois, quand tu auras notre bébé.’ Nabendu tentatively kissed the girl who was full of his seed, Emily responded and tenderly caressed his back.
The girls were lying patiently on their back when Madame DuPlessis opened the curtain in order to check the inseminated girls. The mature woman approvingly examined the girls’ genitals, making sure the seed wouldn’t leak out prematurely.
‘Do not let your boyfriend even touch you in the next weeks, young lady. That young man deserves a chance to be a fathеr of your baby.’ Emily blushed profusely.
'How was it?' Madame asked the girls.
'I... it was very different.' Emily drew her knees to her chest. Madame put the pillow under her more tightly.
'It's not the same is it? When it's charged with purpose like that? Almost spiritual... when a life is depending on it.' Jenna said meditatively.
Jenna was not sure that Emily had had the same experience as she did, but Emily nodded and smiled, inconspicuously wiping away the last of her tears.
'Guess I'll see you in nine months. Maybe we'll be room-mates in the birthing centre.'
'Yes I can't wait!' Jenna responded brightly.
Emily leaned back and shut her eyes, leaving Jenna to stare up at the fluorescent beams and contemplate the meaning of transcendence.
*****
Jenna pushed open the heavy metal doors to the old school building and ran down the long, unlit corridors. Time had gotten away from her this morning and now she was cursing traffic and her miserable time management skills. Aside from hurrying to make the start of the event however, Jenna also felt an underlying anima driving her forward. There was something in the universe that she was running away from, or towards.
The girl who just turned 23, got a subpoena, prescribing her to take part in social services’ duties in the refugee camp. She underwent a thorough medical examination, the gynecologist asked her if she was on birth control. Also, the doctors were relieved that she had no boyfriend, they said it was easier that way.
A final left turn and Jenna was where she needed to be, standing at the entrance of the old gymnasium. From one end of the cavernous gym, all one could see were rows upon rows of low beds, partitioned with white sheets that billowed in the gusts of the oscillating wall fans. Most of the sheets were drawn back as the occupants of the cubicles, young white girls not older than 28, fraternised with their neighbours or moved freely about. The setup was not unlike makeshift hospitals Jenna had often seen in historical wartime movies, although these participants met under much less horrifying circumstances.
'Jenna Simmons, number eighty-three.'
A matronly woman ticked off Jenna's name on her chart and indicated to Jenna which aisle she should walk down.
'Ten minutes to spare,' the woman said with an arched eyebrow. Her golden name tag bore the title Madame DuPlessis.
A small board that bore the number eighty-three marked the cubicle that Jenna had been approved to occupy. The curtain on the side of number eighty-four was open, and a long legged, friendly looking redhead was smiling from her nook.
'Hi, I'm Jenna.'
'Hey Jenna. Emily. My boyfriend drove me here. And you?’
‘No, I came alone’.'
Emily sat on the side of her bed, watching Jenna place her bag on the night-stand and take in her surroundings apprehensively. Some girls were fully clothed, while some were loitering stark naked. Emily was wearing a white sundress. Others had chosen a happy medium, like a long T-shirt, but with no undergarments beneath it. Jenna appeared to have no idea what to do next after putting her belongings away.
'First time?' Emily nervously fidgeted her legs.
'Yes,' Jenna replied too quickly, betraying both her excitement and her nerves. 'What about you?'
'The same.'
Madame DuPlessis went to their cubicle.
'You two got subpoenas, so you must take part in a refugee assistance drive.'
'Wow,' Jenna nodded in a fluster at the older woman. 'What... what should we do now?'
'You're just waiting really. You can get undressed, or not.' Emily lay back onto the propped pillows, but continued to observe Jenna and Madame. Her full and round breasts heaved under her sundress in time with her breath.
Feeling the need to comply, but also self-conscious, Jenna decided to take off her tight jeans that were difficult to get out of, but leave the rest of her garments on. The long flowy blouse that she wore hovered over the top of her thighs and provided a modicum of modesty.
Madame DuPlessis continued talking, all in business.
‘Do you have children?’
'I've never been pregnant before.' Emily said shyly. Jenna shook her head negatively.
'Then you’ll be, I hope. Those guys over there are really desperate. They will soon be deported back to Africa, and they have applied for family immigration, but don’t have any blооd relatives here. So they will try and conceive a baby with you, young ladies.'
‘Jesus, I have a b...’ Emily had stopped short in the middle of a sentence and now looked wide-eyed to Jenna to guide her in the final moments before kick off. 'I just attended the Summer Dance. And I met my boyfriend there, he’s waiting for me outside.' She gave Jenna a tortured smile and blushed.
A clanging bell rang out from near the entrance, which silenced the chatter of the waiting ladies.
'Girls, the boys are nearly done with collecting their food and clothes. Prepare yourselves please. And a gentle reminder that after you leave today it is very important that you do not go off and have any other dalliances, until you have confirmed your pregnancy, please.' Madam DuPlessis huffed. 'We want no complications with paternity!'
'You have to remember that they are just as nervous as you are, if not more so. These poor men. Coming from difficult circumstances and some of them having lived as illegals for years. I don't think they ever dreamed that such a reception was possible.'
'Do we talk to each other? What do you usually say?' Emily asked worriedly.
'Well... not much usually. A lot of them don't speak English and really, they know full well the reason they are here so there isn't anything to explain. Today's boys are from the Democratic Republic of the Congo so they'll mostly speak French.'
Emily flicked her wrist and clapped her face in horror. Jenna felt no better, but she felt more sorry for the poor girl and wanted to calm her.
'Any last minute tips?' Jenna asked Madame hastily.
'You might want to prepare yourself,' she hinted suggestively. 'Some of those boys are desperate, haven't had a woman for months maybe and are ready to pounce. You have to remember that this is about their pleasure. Their release. Accommodate your man as best you can. You can use KY gel, the bottles on the night-stands near your beds.'
Jenna nodded and ran her fingers over the top of her panties.
'Don't worry! Trust me. With the right attitude you'll have fun with them.' Madame winked and drew shut the curtain before their beds. She also wanted to do the same with the curtain between the girls, but Emily protested, she obviously was afraid to be alone with a strange black man.
Ensconced alone within their world reduced to the four flowing screens of the little white booth, Emily sat on the bed, drew her knees up to her chest and waited, slightly rocking back and forth on the bed. Pattering footfalls proceeded down the aisle, approaching their cubicle, but then receding again into the distance.
Suddenly, the entrance to the cubicle was flung open and Jenna found herself face to face with a dark, serious looking man. He was clean shaven and bald, the skin of his head smooth, shiny, and taut. The eyes were solemn, but piercing, and deep set, emphasising his high cheekbones. Simple clothes hung on his frame. A light blue cotton button down, grey jeans, but he wore them like regalia with an air of gravity. To look on him was to look on a world weary monarch, an alpha lion sequestered from its pride and territory, compelled for too long to capitulate to hostile foreign legions.
Jenna shivered as a wave of obscure spirituality crept over her. Something in her subconscious was whispering that a great honour had been bestowed, and which guardedly permitted her to bear the offspring that would anchor the dark man to this new land.
Touching her hand to her chest, she said simply, 'Jenna.'
'Antoine.'
No other words passed between Jenna and Antoine. He had not yet entered the cubicle but instead stood motionlessly at the entrance, casting his eye over Jenna and the small space. After a few moments Antoine caught himself. He gave her what appeared to be a small smile of apology and finally stepped in, pulling the curtain shut behind him.
From the next bed came the sound of husky murmuring in French and Emily saying her name in a shaky voice. She was embraced by a tall and lean young black man. He held her by the waist, and was telling her ‘Je suis Nabendu. Vous êtes si belle. Je veux un enfant de toi.’ Emily just smiled helplessly while he caressed her derrière with his big black hands. ‘I have a boyfriend.” Emily said to her black soon-to-be lover, but Nabendu just smiled and pulled up her sundress to feel her white smooth buttocks. ‘Tu as de si beaux yeux, laisse notre enfant avoir tes yeux.’
The beds that had been prepared for the drive were of the type that was often found in institutions. Metal framed, top sprung, creaky. The drive was after all, more about practical efficiency and achieving important results than luxury and enjoyment. As the event kicked off, the gymnasium gradually filled with the sounds of bed frames squeaking, low breathy grunts, and lusty cries of debauchery.
Also, just as Madame DuPlessis had forewarned, there were the occasional yelps of discomfort as women who had not taken the time to lubricate their pussies were faced with the giant manhood of their African lovers. These were the sex-starved men, their cocks already bursting the seams of their trousers long before they were confronted with the plump and willing pussies of submissive white women. In this area where they were granted the right to act with impunity, it did not take long for them to be pressing fervently into the fertile wombs before them. Their irresistible potent male libidos would soon provoke an excitable bedewing of the tight passages fоrcеd to expand for their conquering masters, but until then, mewling cries of distress continued to ring out.
Antoine sat down on the thin mattress, his back to Jenna. He removed his socks and shoes, then turned his head to look serenely at her. Somehow, Jenna understood that she was to undress him. She crawled across the bed to Antoine and draping her arms over his shoulders, began to release the buttons of his shirt as she rested her chin on his left shoulder. Antoine's deep and slow breaths had a soothing rhythm that Jenna soon found herself breathing in time to as well.
When the buttons were all undone Jenna took the shirt off his back like a cloak. Thick muscles rippled powerfully in Antoine's back as he shrugged the shirt off. If it had not felt like overstepping a boundary Jenna would have leaned in to kiss them tenderly. Instead she merely traced their firm outline with her fingertips in a reverential and trance-like gesture. When she was roused from her reverie Jenna draped the shirt over the end of the bed, then wrapped her arms around Antoine's waist, deft fingers plucking at the stud on his coarse jeans.
If Jenna had been able to have a bird's eye view of the goings-on in the gym, she would have been horribly turned on by the lurid sights. Most everyone else was coupled now to varying degrees, and so the gym was filled with endless columns of dark and light pairs moving against and exploring each other. Of the deprived ones who were already heedlessly humping their charges, some who were lucky enough to be allotted places next to friends had thrown back the dividers. These wild characters high-fived and fist-bumped each other, licking their lips in proposition as they shamelessly ogled the swaying breasts of their compatriot's mate. The men did not swap partners however. They had been cautioned on the importance of knowing with certainty who had been impregnated by whom.
There were other men who were taking their time to examine every inch of the pale nymph they had been assigned to. Pink buds and white curves were stroked, sucked, caressed, while lithe white hands encouraged these affectionate overtures. The remainder of them joyously laid back in wonder at their woman's efforts to keep them aroused. Never did they dream that in this white man's country they could be so exquisitely serviced, and not even at their own behest.
Within the four walls of Antoine's dominion affairs were progressing a little more slowly, but this was not to the displeasure of the two interested parties. Antoine stood up with his jeans unbuckled, allowing Jenna, who had slipped off the bed and sidled to face him, to slide them down in one clean motion. The rough denim caught the material of his white boxers and the garments came off as one. Antoine coolly stepped out of his pooled clothes.
Jenna, meanwhile, remained crouched before him, as she was momentarily enchanted by the reveal of his manhood. Antoine's penis was large as she expected, but not intimidatingly so. It hung slightly away from his body with an elegant curve, looking taut, ready and expectant. Getting down on her knees, Jenna reached out to start caressing its length with both hands.
Antoine was not an old man, but that aura could not be young. It drew Jenna in, intoxicated her, made her want to kneel in exaltation but also to splay her legs wantonly -- to be an adherent and a whore in the one body. She wanted so badly for him to be pleased with her. Acceding to what ordinarily would be expected next of her, Jenna leaned forward in order to take the burgeoning head between her lips. At that, Antoine immediately took a step backwards and held Jenna back by her shoulders. A scandalised expression crossed his face and he shook his head grimly.
Jenna felt a hot wave of embarrassment and chagrin wash over her as she floundered for what to do next. Sensing her discomfort, Antoine helped her up and guided her to stand at the foot of the bed. He himself climbed onto the mattress to stretch out with arms extended as he leaned back against the frame and pillows. Antoine crossed his arms and lifted them over his head indicating that she should strip, but also then held his palm towards her with fingers spread and dropped it slowly to mean that she wasn't to hurry the exercise. She nodded, and they shared a small smirk of amusement at the effectiveness of the body language.
Jenna rolled her thin, white blouse lazily upwards, exposing her flat belly inch by inch, slackening her pace as she reached the underside of her bra cups, then languidly drew the blouse up and over, pulling free a few strands of hair from her up-do. All the while she swayed her hips seductively and kept her eyes on Antoine's aspect of approval.
As Jenna undid the clasp of her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders, she could hear a sound of rustling clothes on the next bed. Emily raised her hands up and Nabendu was pulling her sundress off. The girl was in matching white lacy bra and panties. Nabendu delightedly stroked her sides while Emily was trying to unclasp the bra behind. The African chuckled, looking at her freckles on her chest and shoulders. But when Emily rolled off her panties, Nabendu just exhaled in admiration. He tried to touch that trimmed fiery bush, but Emily sharply covered herself.
Antoine's penis twitched in response the sounds of arousal echoing in the great hall. He motioned to Jenna, who climbed onto the mattress and crawled towards her waiting lover. She did so badly want for Antoine to launch into a ravenous lovemaking session, to be on the receiving end of unrelenting ploughing like Emily was that would make her feel sexy and desirable. Still though, Antoine dawdled. He cradled Jenna in the crook of his arm, while with his other hand he traced the smooth curve of her hip and strong muscles in her thighs. The wandering fingers made their way upwards to caress her soft bosom. Each was cupped and squeezed in turn. Then, as if he were at play, Antoine lifted her breasts and let them lightly fall against her skin, chuckling at their weightiness.
It was clear that he felt genuine admiration for Jenna's beguiling shape and assets, and the attention was starting to make her feel not just desirable, but worthy. As some girl let out a particularly lascivious cry Jenna clung to Antoine's burly arm, pushing her lower body against him, hinting that she needed him to start stoking the wet flame that was growing within.
In response, Antoine used the arm that Jenna was resting on to press her face up against his bulging chest muscle. Jenna's lips had fallen apart and as they grazed Antoine's nipple they instinctively closed around it, tugging, biting, flicking. Jenna had never been with a man who enjoyed having his nipples stimulated, but this was obviously having an invigorating effect on Antoine whose cock hardened considerably.
On the next bed Emily lay on her back and modestly covered her privates by her hands. Nabendu turned her on her side, facing him. He gently caressed her back, the flare of her hips and buttocks. ‘N'ayez pas peur de moi, ouvrez simplement vos jolies jambes et laissez-moi faire de vous la mère de notre enfant.’ He put his big calloused hand on her tender flat belly. ‘Bientôt, votre ventre sera gros et rond.’ Somehow the words that Emily couldn’t even comprehend soothed her enough and she lay on her back and slowly parted her thighs in invitation for Nabendu. ‘Please, be gentle’ Emily whispered to her black lover. Jubilantly, the young African took his rightful place between the white girl’s legs, lovingly caressed her fiery pubic hair and started to seek her entrance between her pink folds with his jutting cock.
Only when Jenna had latched on and was sucking urgently on the hard bead did Antoine let his free hand fall to Jenna's nether region. He played with her pubic hair, coiling it around his fingers, then spread open the lips of her pussy and inserted one exploratory finger. Jenna exhaled in relief at the touch that she had been craving. Her hips rocked, pushing the stirring finger further in and towards her favoured spot. Suddenly one finger was three stroking insistently in a beckoning gesture. Carnal instinct guided Jenna to move with the same rhythm. She tried her best to squeeze the muscles in her passage tightly around the probing digits, but soon lost control as she came in a shiver of delight.
Antoine was far more attuned to the secrets of her body than he let on, for he did not cease the inciting caresses when he saw that Jenna had found her peak. He continued to plumb her depths, rubbing still but more lightly now the centres of her folds that had caused such rapture. Antoine's tender persistence swelled the heights of Jenna's enjoyment. Before she could come down from one peak a new wave pushed her into soaring toe-curling, sheet-clutching euphoria.
When Jenna finally came to she saw that Antoine was now hovering above her, waiting impatiently to push his ramrod of a dick into her. Not having yet recovered from the sensitivities of her high and still in a daze, Jenna rested her hand on her mound and fanned her fingers out which she hoped would signal to Antoine to hold off. Antoine either did not understand or see her hand as he kneed her legs apart, focused entirely on his own purpose now. The reveal of this latent dominant spirit that Jenna had sensed in him made her insides tremble with anticipation, and she compliantly tilted her pelvis upwards to meet his entry.
Jenna watched the stiff black member disappear and felt in turn her empty throbbing hole fill up and distend -- so different from the lithe stroking fingers but just as gratifying. The continuous stimulation inflamed Jenna's overwrought nerve endings and she felt all at once a stirring heat and a bracing cool in her delicate privates. Unable to comprehend the conflicting sensations, Jenna tossed her head fitfully and whimpered, her little cries continuing as Antoine barrelled in resolutely.
Jenna regarded Antoine's imposing form as he moved above her, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Even though a word had not passed between them, she hoped that the gentle purr of her moaning would make him feel desired and loved, as much as it was stoking her aching desire to be filled with black seed. She wanted her first baby to be conceived in a whirlwind of tenderness and passion. With that thought Jenna reached up with both arms and pulled Antoine close.
Jenna could hear the sound of the next bed creaking in a steady rhythm. Emily and Nabendu were coupled in the missionary position like Jenna and Antoine and Nabendu was rhythmically fucking his white mate partner. Emily's hands were by her side and her legs were spread widely, but her feet were hovering off the mattress. One minute turned to two and then three as Nabendu kept up his slow, but relentless pace. His head had been resting next to Emily's, but suddenly he raised himself on his arms and arched his back as if stretching. ‘Tu es si jolie, et tu es à moi!’ Nabendu said to the girl and it had an immediate effect on Emily. Her legs lifted further so that her knees pulled back towards her body, her hands grabbed Nabendu's arms at the elbows and she let out a long sexy moan.
Jenna could see sweat beads start to form on his black back then run across his sides. Emily's hands travelled up his arms and rested on his shoulders, as her sounds became more distinct and deliberate.
"Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh..." she gasped softly, now in rhythm to his strokes. While Emily's left hand was still on his shoulder, her right hand had wandered to his lower back as if to guide his motions.
"Don't stop," Jenna heard her say as a soft plea when Nabendu's movements halted for a second.
Amazingly, he did resume and her knees raised further until her feet were touching his ass. Soon, her soft sighs and moans returned too.
Suddenly, with no warning, her body stiffened once, then twice and sharp spasms quickly followed wracking through her. Both her hands went to Nabendu's ass, and Jenna could see the muscles in her arms stand out as she pulled herself hard against him.
"Oh God, don't stop Nabendu," she panted in a heavy whisper, that was clearly audible.
Nabendu's pace never faltered and even as she began to catch her breath and come down he stayed in rhythm and continued his grunting noises. Emily's hands had fallen back to his elbows and her legs were down so that her feet were wrapped behind his ass.
Then, without warning, Emily patted her hands on his shoulders and spoke.
"Nabendu, stop. Please stop," she said in a soft whisper, but after several seconds of no response, she tried again, "Please stop. Just for a second."
"Je n'ai pas encore fini," he answered in a confused voice, but kept moving
"Just for a second Nabendu," she said, now almost begging.
Nabendu slowed and then stopped and Emily guided his hips to the side so his cock left her swollen pussy. Jenna thought that Emily had had enough and was going to ease from under him, but instead she reached for the bottle of lubricant and poured a healthy portion in her hand then brought it between them and out of the line of sight. Nabendu moved and closed the view, but Jenna was still able to see her use the lotion then guide Nabendu’s cock back inside her body to continue their coupling.
Nabendu quickly regained his pace, although now Jenna could hear a squishing sound as his black cock plunged into the well lubricated white pussy. Nabendu did his stretch again and lifted himself onto his hands and off her body, but this time though he stayed in the position as they continued to fuck.
Antoine's straining forceful thrusts into Jenna's passage reached a fever pitch, the hot shaft between Jenna's legs barely retracting an inch before its full length was slammed inward again. He lay fully prone on top of her, the weight of him pressing down onto their pubis also inciting pleasure in her swollen nub. Jenna was no longer fully aware of her surroundings. Her eyes rolled back invоluntarily as she tightened the clutchеs of her one hand on the back of Antoine's head, and the other arm thrown around his neck.
As the light began to swim before her eyes and her breathing reduced to whimpering gasps, she felt Antoine turn his head towards her cheek, brushing his lips against her ear. He spoke slowly in a low rumble of thunder, the pace of his words totally at odds with the frenzied motion of their bodies. Yet the act and the voice were one, tugging on the edges of Jenna's lucidity to pull her over the edge.
Jenna knew full well that Antoine was not speaking in English. She heard the lilting and guttural stops of his native tongue thrumming against her ear. However she also grasped with certainty what it was that he so crucially needed to tell her and their soon to be conceived baby. For all time after that moment Jenna could repeat faithfully what Antoine had intoned, but she never ever did so out loud.
Into her right ear he whispered:
Little one you will not be born over your fathеr's land and you will be birthed by a foreign mothеr. But listen to papa when he tells you that you are a ruler of a people and one day a kingdom will be yours. Papa will lay the kindling at your feet for you to light the way. Be good to your mom and grow up strong. Once I have laid the path I will be back.
Antoine pulled away from Jenna's embrace only to adjust his head and let his lips fall against her left ear:
Beautiful woman the gods have decreed that you will be the mom of my first baby. Suckle it well and keep it from harm. I will leave you for an age but not for longer than you can stand. For the nine months of pain that this baby will give you and for the five years afterwards that I will, take this moment of pleasure that can bring you to heaven.
The utterances flowed into Jenna and spread a warmth that enveloped her body and the farthest reaches of her consciousness. As she squirmed against the sensation, Antoine propped himself up on his elbows and now looked at her squarely in the face, commanding her, still in his native language.
Jenna repeated her understanding faithfully.
'I will make you a fathеr.' The words excited a gush of liquid in her battered pussy.
Antoine reiterated his mandate and so did Jenna her vow.
'I will make you a fath -- '
The last syllable was lost in a scream and a tempest-tossed sea of unending еcstasy. The contracting muscles in Jenna's pulsing vagina drew forth and gratefully soaked up the sacred seed. In the proceeding years Jenna would touch herself many times reliving this union which made her into a believer in a higher plane of existence. In the moment however, she was a soul adrift, wandering on the very brink of reality, uncertain about how she would fall back down to earth. Her field of vision was lit up by dark lights and the body she inhabited quaked in euphoria and fear.
Finally, it was the tears in her eyes that brought Jenna back to the realisation of where she was. She thought she might have been swimming or underwater for a long time for how heavy her breathing was. Instead when she opened her eyes, Jenna saw that Antoine was dressed and sitting on the side of the bed in the same placid way that he had when he first entered.
A silence lingered between them and it felt like an opportunity to reach out to him. Jenna wanted to ask what would happen to him, to her, their baby. He had said that she would have to wait. Would she not see him? What would she do alone with the baby? What should she? She hadn't the words.
Antoine busied himself, folding the blanket and fluffing up pillows to slide under Jenna's bum. Then, placing a palm on Jenna's soft belly, Antoine said simply, 'Henri.' He stood up and made to leave, but turned as if he had forgotten something and added with a chuckle, 'Henriette.'
Without a backward glance Antoine lifted the flap that shielded the entry to their private domain and was gone. The curtain fell back into place as before, rustling as if all that had been was the wind.
One by one as and when they had emptied their load into the receptive white wombs and recovered from the intoxicating high, the men drifted out of the hall and the school building. They were given the contact details of the white girl they had been with and were each reminded by way of a little pamphlet that they could know about the pregnancy and delivery. Nine months from now, a reminder would be sent for them to check in on the status of the delivery, and then to lodge the applications that would ensure their permanent stay in the country. All their babies, the fathers-to-be were assured, would be mentored, cared for, and afforded the best education, food, and clothes that money could buy.
The bed to her left creaked relentlessly. Jenna saw that Emily and Nabendu reached the crescendo of their coupling. Nabndu resolutely fucked his white partner, Emily vigorously rocked her hips, meeting his thrusts. Jenna held her breath watching the obsidian black body against the soft, creamy Emily’s body. Jenna could see him tighten up, his movements picking up intensity. She could hear his breathing deepen, becoming grunts, ever more ragged and desperate. His hands gripped Emily tighter, his head lifted and leaned back, exposing the dark muscles and sinews of his neck. And then he exploded. He gasped for air, mouth wide, trembling, shuddering, eyes rolling back into his head as his thrust into Emily in the last time, spearing the girl as he injected a heavy load of his DNA into her womb.
Jenna could hear Emily’s gasps, moans, and whimpers.
The black man and white girl just lay in the tight intimate embrace, catching their breath, being grateful to each other. Jenna could hear the soft murmurs of the unlikely couple. ‘I know you just gave me your baby.’ Emily whispered to Nabendu. ‘J'attendrai neuf mois, quand tu auras notre bébé.’ Nabendu tentatively kissed the girl who was full of his seed, Emily responded and tenderly caressed his back.
The girls were lying patiently on their back when Madame DuPlessis opened the curtain in order to check the inseminated girls. The mature woman approvingly examined the girls’ genitals, making sure the seed wouldn’t leak out prematurely.
‘Do not let your boyfriend even touch you in the next weeks, young lady. That young man deserves a chance to be a fathеr of your baby.’ Emily blushed profusely.
'How was it?' Madame asked the girls.
'I... it was very different.' Emily drew her knees to her chest. Madame put the pillow under her more tightly.
'It's not the same is it? When it's charged with purpose like that? Almost spiritual... when a life is depending on it.' Jenna said meditatively.
Jenna was not sure that Emily had had the same experience as she did, but Emily nodded and smiled, inconspicuously wiping away the last of her tears.
'Guess I'll see you in nine months. Maybe we'll be room-mates in the birthing centre.'
'Yes I can't wait!' Jenna responded brightly.
Emily leaned back and shut her eyes, leaving Jenna to stare up at the fluorescent beams and contemplate the meaning of transcendence.
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