Egypt

That rainy morning, after the boy had filled her up, he gently withdrew and kissed her softly and respectfully on the cheek. Recovering from having been so massively pried open, she was out of breath, as she knew she would be, but she smiled at this sweet gesture. She managed to exhale the words, “Thank you Kai-Kai”, and sensed his half-yawn smile as he got up and stole silently across the hall to the bathroom. As she heard the shower turn on she wiped herself off with the cloths set up neatly beside his bed, then put on the special maxi-pad that would keep semen from running down her legs. She got dressed, stuffed that huge retainer into her purse, and descended the stairs with unsteady legs that suddenly seemed unused to being close togther.

Mrs. Schreiber had already gotten breakfast ready and was entertaining the I-2 for that day, Dr. Chione Mostasa, a tall, broad-shouldered and exquisitely gowned Egyptian woman of about 40, whose purple linen hijab made a pretty frame around her dark-skinned face. As Mrs. Woronov quietly sipped her second coffee (decaf) and munched on whole wheat toast, bread which she knew had been home-made by the housewifely Sire, she listened to their quiet, erudite conversation, a counterpoint to the falling rain. It was apparent that not only was Dr. Mostasa a physician like Mrs. Schreiber, she was also active in the Project. She headed some kind of committee for Region 4 (which encompassed basically the entire Arab world). They talked about a complicated bureaucratic matter; apparently Kai-Kai was about to “penetrate” Western Sahara but the Moroccan government, which claimed sovereignty, was raising objections. Then they heard the gentle sweep of bare toes coming down the stairs and tactfully changed the topic to medicine.

Kai-Kai got in next to Mrs. Woronov with his zinc milkshake and bowl of bran flakes. The two quietly listened to the middle-aged doctors talk about obstetrical practices in Egypt. Then about a lecture at the Guest House that Dr. Mostasa was going to give the next day. Some of the P-3’s and P-4’s had been doing that lately. There was a lull in the conversation and a sense of expectation. Dr. Mostasa smiled at the nude young man sitting across from her, stood up, and took his hand. In her British-inflected accent she said, “I am proud to be the first Committee Chair to become a Procreator.” Turning to the boy’s mother, she said, “Could you?” It had been prearranged. Mrs. Schreiber got her smart phone out, positioned it carefully, and Dr. Mostasa and the young Sire posed in the middle of the dining room for the photo which would appear on the Project web site. The Egyptian physician was taller than he was, with a regal smile, as if she were wearing ermine, holding his hand. Kai-Kai wore nothing but his familiar shy smile. Below, in anticipation, his penis stood out half-erect in front of the jumbo-egg-sized testicles, having regenerated since the orgasm inside Mrs. Woronow, ready for action again.

Dr. Mostasa, take-charge person that she was, led Kai-Kai to the special table next to the bookshelf. It looked like a chiropractor’s table but broader. The doctor tried to hide her wince as she took out the retainer, then lay back and spread her legs. The table was set up to be exactly level with Kai-Kai’s erection, so all he had to do was look down as he carefully pushed forward. A quick inhale from the doctor signified intromission through unseen womanly lips which had never before been so widely spread apart. Mrs. Woronov couldn’t help but admire the Sire’s tight little butt as he sawed his hips back and forth. Of course the doctor couldn’t take all of him; in fact his gentle thrusting seemed very shallow. It was only a couple of minutes before he gasped, then the older woman gasped too, followed by rhythmic gasps signifying a gentle, rolling orgasm. Kai-Kai drew in breath, then in his boyish voice, a low moan. And thus Chione Mostasa, M.D., Chair of the Epidemiology Department at the University of Alexandria, mother of four and wife of Egypt’s Assistant Minister for Agriculture, received the young Sire’s second ejaculation of the morning.

Mrs. Woronow had been a welcome spectator but felt that her time had come to leave. “Please don’t be a stranger,” Mrs. Schreiber said. It was almost funny but the mated couple managed to turn their heads and wave good-bye.