The Other Baby

"Okay, first decision. How many goes does the donor guy get?"

She looked puzzled.

"There are only a few days in your cycle when you are fertile, right?"

"Yes."

"So does the guy come all of those days.?

"I guess."

"And if you don't get pregnant, does he come again next month?"

"I don't know."

"What worries me is that the more goes the guy gets, the more chance there is that --"

"That I end up falling for him?"

"Yeah, something like that."

I watched as Cathy realised that she had never considered the possibility She regarded sex with the donor as simply a necessary biological mechanism needed for her plan.

"And that scares you?" she said.

"More that anything else. Say this was the other way around, if I was having sex with some surrogate mum in order to have our baby. That wouldn't worry you at all?"

She closed her eyes, I could almost see the scenes playing in her head.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I. I never thought of any of this."

"Now you know," I said. "You were consumed with the idea of making a major political and philosophical statement. Those kinds of ideas can be all consuming. The fact that you have that kind of brain is one of the reasons that I love you. Keep an open mind for the moment. I had another idea. You may hate it, but what if you had several studs?"

"Altogether?"

"Maybe, or more likely, on different days. That way it would harder to become attached to one of them and none of us would know which was the actual sperm donor."

"Seriously?"

"It is your idea, in a way."

"No. I've never said anything like that."

"Do you remember when Marjory and William broke up."

"Yeah because she was cheating on him with the gardener -- how unoriginal can you get."

"You quoted her as saying she needed more sex than William could give her, right? Do you remember what you said next?"

"Oh shit. Yeah. I said if you want more sex it's better to have an orgy."

"Exactly, and you said the risk of falling for one person is less, and the chances are that your husband will at least be better than one of them."

"So you are suggesting that I have an orgy every month." This time Candy couldn't stop giggling.

"I think that might be excessive and stressful," I said, "and we couldn't guarantee to pick the right day. What I thought was that the same principle could be spread out over ten days."

"Where am I going to find ten men?"

"It wouldn't have to be ten, but I think I'd be happier if it was at least three or four."

Candy sat for a minute, letting the idea run around in her head.

"And if we did that, you would worry less?"

I couldn't help smiling.

"What?" she said.

"You said we, if we did that. That makes me part of it. Up till now--"

"Yeah I get it. I get it," she said. "I've been saying I this, and I that. Sorry love. You are a genius. Thank heavens I've got you. Is that it then?"

"I'll still worry, but maybe not so much. It means letting a lot of strange men into our marriage, and the way you were talking I'm going to get a lot less sex."

"And that matters to you, doesn't it?"

"Honey, what do you think? I'd always thought we would have kids, this way it will be more like as if you'd been married before and I adopted your kids when we got married. I know lots of folk do that, and the ones I know are happy enough..."

"But they didn't have it dumped on them?"

"Mmmm, something like that. I still worry that you'll end up not wanting me. Even if we worked with my plan my guess is that you'd want the repeats to be with the guys who gave you better sex. Over a period you will have had more sex and better sex, than you have with me. Why would you ever want to go back? I know you'll feel obliged, but I don't know how I'd cope with pity sex as my only option."

"No Tom, I couldn't do that to you."

"Don't be so sure. You already said you'd risk our marriage to do this, so who knows where it leads."

"I didn't say that."

"You said, and I'm quoting -- 'I know you could divorce me if I do this, but please don't. I love you, I can't imagine bringing up a baby without you. I don't want another husband, I really, really don't. I just want a black baby.' That's what you said, which comes pretty close to saying you want this baby even at the risk of wrecking our marriage. The thing is, love it's all about genes, and what genes make their way into this baby. You'll want sperm from someone that you like, someone who is intelligent, kind, socially motivated--"

"Like you."

"Yeah... I guess... only black. That's the one thing I can't give you... sorry, I'm talking my way out of our marriage aren't I."

"Don't say that love. I get what you say about genes, scientifically that makes perfect sense, but there is a lot more to it than that. Picking the right genes to have a baby is one thing, the right genes for a husband and father are something else."

"Which am I?"

"You are both love, all of the above. No question about it."

"But I'm not black."

"No," she said.

"And we can't fix that."

"Would it help if you picked the guys?" she said, sounding as though she'd had a sudden inspiration. "You pick people for jobs all the time, it's what you and your team do."

"I don't think I could get my team to work on this."

"No," she said. "Of course not, but you have the skills. Judging by the amount you get paid, you must be one of the best in the business."

That put me on the spot. We have recruited people for some strange jobs over the years, but now she was expecting me to pick someone who could potentially replace me. The flip side of the coin was no better, if they turned out to be a disappointment, then it would be my fault. The more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of a team because it would spread the risk and spread the blame.

It took a week to find them. A week in which I had more surprises than I could count. Once I got into it I ended up knowing I could have found twenty men that fitted the bill.

That weekend Cathy had her period, so even if we went at this as soon as possible, none of these folk were needed for the next week. That gave me a little more time to plan, and some time to take Cathy through my plan.

"So what you're saying," she said, "is that I have a different guy each night for a week. What if I don't get pregnant?"

"If you get a period at the end of the month then I have a few days to go back to the pool of guys and see who is available for the next month."

"You are amazing."

"Not amazing enough."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm becoming a spectator in my own marriage, more like your reproductive agent than your husband. I want to be more than that. There is one thing that crossed my mind, something that wouldn't spoil your plan. After your period ends there are at least five days, when you would be safe. Sperm can live for a few days, but if we never had sex past the fifth day, you wouldn't get pregnant by me."

"And you would like to have sex."

"Yes, or at least not rule it out."

"So you would take the risk?"

"There's no risk in those five days."

"I didn't mean that risk," she said.

"Go on, spell it out."

"I'm going to have sex with seven guys, all of whom have passed your tests, and you're prepared to risk being compared with them?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "What choice do I have? I mean, if not then, when?"

"How do you mean?"

"Your original plan pretty much said that I won't have sex with you for a year or more."

"I never said that."

"You said -- not while you are trying to get pregnant, and not while you are pregnant -- that could add up to a year or more. If it took three months to get pregnant. After the baby is born, you'll need time to heal, you'll probably be breast feeding. A few more months could easily slide by. It adds up to at least a year. By the end of that time you'll be a different person and I'll have forgotten how to do it."

"Oh," she sighed. "I didn't add it up."

"I understand what you are trying to do," I said, "but it risks becoming a sort of one woman crusade. I support you in that, but I don't need to be married to you to to support you. In some respects it would be easier to be your sperm procurement agent if we weren't married. We could get divorced right now. We could still share the house. You could get pregnant and have the baby and then see if you were still interested in me as a husband. If you wanted me, we could re-marry and I could adopt the baby."

"Oh God Tom, don't say that."

"That option has a lot going for it. When I re-marry you and adopt the baby I become a hero, taking on this woman that has a wrong race baby, instead or being a sucker cuckold."

I considered elaborating on how practical my proposal was, but her face put me off that idea..

"Okay, put that on the back burner for now," I said. "Those five days each month, we could relax. The studs will have done their work, and even if you miss your period we won't get a positive test for at least another week. We can use those five days to catch up with each other. In those five days, there's no pressure. We can reconnect. I can get over any jitters I might have. You can wipe out any anxieties you might have."

"Guilt you mean?"

"I deliberately didn't say that. Look at the upside. You can teach me what you've learned. If any of these guys have some amazing technique, you can coach me. It won't be long before you'll know a lot more about sex than I do. If we don't have some way to work together we could end up being very disconnected in a year's time."

"Oh God Tom, I'm so sorry. I've fucked this up haven't I. You were the only one actually thinking about what was involved."

"So I get my five days?"

"Yes," she said. "Yes of course. And we can do what you said, work on us, be us."

"There's one other thing," I said. "I am going to spy on you."

"What?'

"I'm going to put very discrete, almost invisible, cameras and microphones in the spare room. I know that sounds kinky, but I figure if we are going to learn from this then it's easiest if we are both working from the same experience. I probably won't watch live, but we can use the recordings. Oh, and any insulting of the husband and they don't get a second go."

"I don't know," she said. "I mean, dead right about that last bit, but the recording might put me off."

"It might," I said. "I accept that, but the donors won't know about the cameras, and if they are any good, then they should be able to get you so into it that you'll forget all about the recording. Most times, I'm going to be in the house anyway. I could be standing outside the door, or you might be so loud I'd hear what you said anyway. I reckon we can convert that room into a nursery when we have the baby. A good monitoring system will be useful then."

"Oh, yes. Oh and that makes it feel so real. You are bloody amazing, and you're right, it will make it easier to talk about it. It's a deal. I'm putting you through hell. Being recorded as a slut for black cocks is only fair. Just don't tell me where the cameras are."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It took two months for Cathy to get pregnant, during which she had sex with twelve different black men. We had sex eight times during those months. In each of our five day spells, we skipped the first day. In part that was because I didn't want to rush things and somewhere in the back of my mind, I didn't want to appear needy. Cathy introduced another reason, she insisted on having STD tests, and for whatever reason, thought it was sensible to wait until a few days after her sex fest had ended each month. That created a pattern. Select the guys, ten days of sex, a few days rest, then get the STD tests, have period, five days of us, five days of rest and go round again. If she missed the period, a few more days of sex for us, a few days of suspense and then the pregnancy test,

Thanks to my meticulous recruitment, the studs varied in their attributes. It may sound foolish, or insecure on my part, but I did my best to avoid only recruiting men with huge cocks. While it is true that some black guys are big, so are some white guys. If you google the question it comes out in the black guys favour on average, but not by much, and the range overlaps. I made sure that Cathy sampled a range. I don't need to own up to anything more than that some of them were smaller than me. We were in the business of attacking racism, not confirming stereotypes or anything else.

In many ways I thought some of the other factors I used to recruit were bigger risks. I made sure that all the men were educated and intelligent and in good shape. I quizzed them about their background, no crime, no drugs, non-smokers, stable family, stuff like that. All the men who had sex with Cathy were decent upright guys. They might all be black, but take that away and they were as much husband and father material as I was. Okay, I admit, that could be a risk, but I like to think I am a fair minded man.

Those weeks after each fertile period did us both a lot of good. Cathy made sure that I knew she loved me, and we had more laughs than you can imagine. Gradually my worries fell away. Whatever it was that made Cathy fall for me, these guys didn't have it.

Once we knew that Cathy was pregnant, I set about converting that bedroom into a nursery. The cameras stayed in place, but the decor changed. I found a specialist decorator -- my recruitment skills again -- and she did an amazing job. I didn't let Cathy see it until it was done.

"Oh, wow," she said. "Oh wow. It's not the same room." She shot me a quick glance. "Is that so I'll forget what happened here?"

"Honey, we have it all recorded. This is for the kids."

She walked around touching things, stroking the walls. There were a few places where the walls had special textures, I don't know where the decorator found them, but I guess the idea was that kids could have fun feeling them.

"Kids?" she said. "How many kids is this room for?"

"One or two," I said. I put in two cots.

"One or two?"

"You might have twins. You know, so much sex, I though it was best to be on the safe side."

Cathy shrieked with laughter.

"Seriously?"

"Okay, so I've overdone it. I got carried away. I mean, but if we have two, we can't give one back."

She spun me around and kissed me.

"I know the room's good," I said, "But that good?"

"The kiss was because you said we -- if we have two."

"Yeah," I said. "We. I meant we. We have put a lot into this."

"You are bloody amazing," she said. "Every now and then I manage to step back enough to realise what I've put you through. How the hell did you do it? I daren't ask my friends how their husbands would cope, because I know they would all be out of the door in a flash. How did you do it?"

"I conceived a secret plan, a way through to keep me going, but I can't tell you because that would change everything."

"Will you tell me after the baby is born -- we did say, no secrets."

"All will be revealed, when the time is right."

That got me another hug. I figured it was best to say no more about two babies. She'd find out soon enough.

Nine months is a long time, well more like seven and a half since we got the test back. All the way through there are things to think about -- most of it good, apart from the morning sickness. I know it was Cathy doing the throwing up, but I couldn't sit there eating my usual breakfast while she struggled to find something she could keep down. We did it together. What she ate, I ate. I tried to make sure that the whole thing was a shared experience. I might not have been the sperm donor, but anything else there was to give, I gave.

For someone having her first baby the labour was miraculously short, but two weeks late, and sure enough she had a black baby. An hour later, she was sitting up in bed, looking radiant and the baby was hooked on one of her breasts as though she had been practicing for months. It had been a long night and neither of us had had much sleep, but adrenaline is wonderful stuff, we were both very wide awake.

"I have a confession to make," I said.

That got me a puzzled look.

"I told our folks. I figured you hadn't because no one said anything to me. I couldn't imagine that if they knew they wouldn't have felt the need to check out how I was coping."

"Oh." Cathy said.

"I didn't know how you'd be at this stage. Giving birth can be a tough business, physically and emotionally. I figured you had enough on your plate. I know you may have been looking forward to shocking the hell out of them, but I'm good at that diplomacy stuff, so I thought I'd help out."

She said nothing for a minute, and I'm pretty sure she couldn't read anything in my face. She catches me out occasionally, but giving nothing away is another of my skills, especially when I've had time to prepare.

"How did they take it?" she said eventually.

"Good." I said. "They can't wait to see the baby."

"Are they waiting outside?"

That made me grin. Sure, I could have set that up, but my folks were busy doing something else for me, and I had to let her folks in on that secret too. All that was left was for Cathy to find the surprise that would be waiting at home.

"No," I said. "The hospital told me that if everything went well you should be home later tonight or tomorrow. The folks will be there when you get there. They could have come, but with being up all night, I thought you might need some sleep."

"You think of everything."

"That's me," I said. "Covering every conceivable possibility." Emphasis on the word conceivable.

"That's strange thing to say," she said.

I ignored that remark. "How are you feeling? You know, now that the secret is out?"

"I think one of the nurses was surprised, but you were brilliant. Having you there, being supportive, not batting an eyelid, that was so great. I know why we did this, but you were right, some people don't get it."

"She's beautiful," I said. "Any more thoughts about a name?"

"Carmen? What do think?"

I looked at the baby and couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, that would be beautiful."

"It would be nice if she had a brother one day."

"Seriously?" I said, thinking fast. "What shall we go for, Chinese?"

Cathy giggled. "You're really getting into this -- no wait a minute, they have small dicks, is that it? I'd be safe having sex with Chinese guys."

"There you go with stereotypes again. I don't have any data on that. You have sex on the brain, but a brother would be nice wouldn't it?"

"Yes, yes it would, but I thought the next baby had to be yours?"

"Did I actually say that?"

"Well, no, but I've been feeling guilty," she said. "I've put you through a lot."

"Right now,"I said. "You have post delivery euphoria, so you are allowed to say crazy things. You need sleep. I'm going to dash home, make sure things are ready for you and get a couple of hours sleep. I'll be back for you later on."

I'd given the grandparents a key each. Cathy's folks were there when I got home. Mine were on another mission, but wouldn't be long.

"Hi folks," I said as I arrived. "Not quite eight pounds and all healthy."

"You've had a long night Tom, Cathy's mother said.

"Long, but worth it."

"And you're not worried?"

"We are in this together Mum. I told Cathy I've told you folks, so there's no need to be shy around it. We're calling her Carmen, unless Cathy changes her mind before she gets home."

I had three hours sleep. When I woke my folks had arrived, along with my surprise. I came downstairs, had a coffee, saw that my dad and Cathy's folk were in the garden. My Mum must be upstairs. The first place I looked was the nursery, and there she was with the other baby.

"He's very cute," Mum said. "Is this going to work with Cathy?"