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“Randy, how come my Mothers don’t charge you for your coffee?”
Five-year-old Devon’s “Main Mother”, Tessa, was blasting steam through the milk for my morning double latte, and the question took her as much by surprise as it did me. She reddened, looked up at me, grinned through the blush (DAMN! But she was pretty!) and answered, as Devon turned to take another drive-up customer’s order, “Well, Devon, he did us a big favor once.”
Memories flooded me. Some favor! Six years ago.
The two ladies, Casey and Tessa, what a find they’d been. Ran a superb “morning-only” drive up latte shop. Tessa, beautiful, voluptuous, late twenties, almost Gypsy dark with ebony eyes and hair, olive complexion. Flirtatious, without being overly so, just a tiny edge to her overall cheerful friendliness. Casey, butch, thin, nearly boy-flat and boy-hipped, pale-skinned and black-haired in the best Irish-maiden tradition, severe-looking but actually very open and friendly, yet anything but flirtatious.
All of our interactions were brief and businesslike, so It took me a while to realize that this was a well-established, long-term couple. Too bad for the men in Seattle, Tessa being unavailable. But then, it was nice, wonderful in fact, that they’d found one another: they seemed quite happy, not overt or pushy in any way about their gay-ness. Slowly, over time, I’d become a friend – but always through the car window, lending house-modification advice, sometimes tools, occasional legal advice on matters like home purchases and warranties. Sometimes my aid had resulted in a free latte, especially iced ones in summer.
Then, one morning, out of the blue, Tessa asked me through the window whether I would mind giving them some informal legal advice on a very important matter. I replied “Sure”, but since I wasn’t a Washington-state attorney, and it would be free, they’d have to be wary of it. “Just remember what you paid for it!” I told them.
Casey laughed slightly, said that my advice so far had been just fine, but they were worried because this might take a couple of hours… and could I possibly meet with them at their home this afternoon, say, at three? I was puzzled, must have looked it, but Tessa said “You always tell me you set your own schedule, and this is really important. Please? If you can, that is, if you’re free then? We wouldn’t want to impose.”
I looked behind me: five cars lined up. No time to ask more questions even though I wanted to. Tessa scribbled the address on a chit, handed it to me. I nodded, said “Three it is” and drove away. Mysterious!
I finished my day’s business, shifted one appointment to the next day, and promptly at three I pulled into the drive: Tessa and Casey opened the door together. Obligatory short tour through the house, upstairs (the paneling I’d loaned them the power screwdriver for was carefully pointed out), down to the new furnace (I’d helped with advice about the furnace and then about warranty claims). Missed a bedroom in the tour, but figured it was their private hidey-hole. Then on into the kitchen, where we sat down at the table.
I looked back and forth between them: Casey went slightly red, Tessa furiously so. Curiouser and curiouser, to quote Alice.
Then, Tessa launched. “Randy… We need some help with a special document.” Pause. I said nothing, just nodded. Initiative theirs, entirely.
Casey picked up: “Well, we know you’ve um, figured out by now that we’re, well… gay. You may have guessed that we’ve been together… as a couple… for a long time. And we plan on staying that way. Permanently. We were married on the first day it became legal, you might recall.” They reached for one-another’s’ hands, squeezed hard.
They watched me.
I gauged my reaction carefully, said only “I thought as much, but of course it’s none of my business, is it? Bravo to you… both of you. I don’t care about anyone’s orientation, so long as they don’t try to constrain others, or force their own tastes on others, either. The important thing is that you have someone to love… way too many people don’t have anyone at all. So bravo again.”
I paused, watching their faces relax… and muttered “But, of course, from a male chauvinist pig point of view, it’s a real shame to see two such attractive women removed from the pool of sexual candidates! But so long as I can count you both as good friends, I guess I’ll forgive you…”
They giggled slightly at that, then settled back down. I waited. They looked at one another again for some seconds. Finally, still holding hands, Tessa spoke. “Randy… I come from a family of seven kids. Both of us come from big families. And I like kids. So does Casey…”
I nodded, wondering.
Casey went on: “We’re basically just another married couple. Monogamous and all that respectability stuff. We expect to stay together. And, well, we both would like to have kids, but that’s pretty difficult, because, well, between us we have way too Kocaeli Escort many X chromosomes! We’ve thought about adoption…”
Adoption? I nodded, privately skeptical. Certainly a topic I knew zip about. I thought for a moment, and said “Well, I do know that gay couples are occasionally able to officially adopt kids, at least some places in this country and certainly in some European countries… and I believe it’s now okay in this state… but it’s difficult and probably expensive.”
They both nodded, and Casey said “We know. We’ve been researching. So, we need your advice. Attorney-advice, even if you’re not a member of this state’s bar. We have an idea, and we need help with drafting a special document. A contract.”
They looked at me.
I thought again: were they headed towards adoption papers? Whatever, it didn’t matter… not only was I not a practicing attorney, but there couldn’t be a thornier set of issues and I knew exactly nothing about them. If I were to give them real advice, it would amount to malpractice.
But before I could say anything, they sensed my hesitation and Tessa blurted in a furious rush, “We know you’re not a Washington attorney, but we need some help before we even go to one. We need to know what questions to ask and how to think about our idea… so would you read through a document we’ve drawn up, a rough draft, and let us know if we’re crazy, or way off base, and maybe give us some suggestions about wording and tell us any important things we have missed? It’s not very long.”
It was the sort of thing that I do for friends all the time, so I agreed. They looked monumentally relieved. Casey jumped up, disappeared briefly, and reappeared with a couple of pages of typescript. She handed it to me and together, silently, they watched me read.
The contents took me by surprise: where I had expected something about adoption, it actually was an agreement about becoming pregnant, with the mother accepting all financial and other responsibility for the child, the father releasing all parental interests and controls. They were apparently going to arrange to go through a normal pregnancy… at least, one of them was. Probably Tessa, was my bet… seeing her as a biological mother didn’t go counter to outside appearances…whereas Casey could not possibly be envisioned in the role. I didn’t ask – not necessary, and intrusive.
I read it through. Not a bad draft, logical, well organized, pretty thorough. Obviously the product of lots of considerable research and thought.
They watched, studying my reactions as I read.
When I finished and looked up, Tessa said “Are we crazy? Or will it work?”
My reply was careful: “First, ladies… will you know the man, or are you going to a sperm bank or setting up some other type of anonymous donor arrangement? It seems to me that anonymous might eliminate a lot of these concerns, and sperm banks are widely available.”
They eyed one another, then me. Finally, Tessa blushed a deep fuchsia from below the collarbones to her hairline and said “I’ll be the one getting pregnant, Casey isn’t interested in that aspect of parenthood, and I really am, and no, we don’t want steel and glass involved. We have a couple of acquaintances, very good candidates, who we think might agree. But we don’t want to ask for that favor until we have an agreement for them to think about.”
I looked at them both, muttered “That’s not asking for a favor, ladies, it’s granting an incredible privilege! Any even vaguely hetero man would be crazy NOT to help!” This time they both flushed.
I warned them, however: “Look, you two, you have to be sure you understand the situation. Parenthood, and accepting or relinquishing it, is a very, VERY messy part of the law, very uncertain, unsettled, and changing. The best I can say is that if you presented this document, any intelligent wide-awake judge would certainly conclude that all the signatories regardless of gender clearly understood what they were trying to do, and were all serious and thoughtful and well-informed. That being said, exactly what a judge might do with this thing is unknowable… anything from throwing it out summarily to upholding it as a valid contract.”
I shrugged: “That being said, in any case you would be a hell of a lot better off WITH than without it, if you had to argue to a court! Claro?”
The nodded together.
I sighed, grinned at them, and agreed to help with the text. Casey ran for a red pen and to print out a triple-spaced copy for me to work on. We talked as I edited and wrote, exploring important considerations as best I could from a weak position of no experience and little knowledge. We scribbled changes, adding and subtracting.
Casey took the comments to the computer to enter them, do a reprint for a second check.
I sat there with Tessa, sipping coffee: she was gorgeous in her quiet embarrassment. It was gutsy to even think of Kocaeli Escort Bayan such a thing, and I said so.
She eyed me, then looked away and asked quietly “So… am I crazy? Is this just biology breaking through my orientation and trying to destroy me?”
I grinned and said no, she wasn’t crazy, but that before she really did anything so drastic, she’d better be awfully certain! She nodded, said almost to herself, “I’ve wanted kids since I was five… sometimes, just for a moment, I think it’s really too bad I’m gay, I’d be a good mother in a hetero relationship, I think. Fat chance of THAT, though! None, zippo!”
Casey returned with the clean copy, and we iterated. This time there was little to do: we seemed to have covered about all the bases, the acceptance and release were well crafted, everyone’s intent would be perfectly clear… but I explained once more that however clear things might seem in the document and in everyone’s minds at signing, it was very possible that a court might find the whole arrangement illegal, or might reinstate, let’s say, “father’s rights” if the question were ever raised. In short, try as one might, there could be no iron-clad agreement on this topic. Too complex and emotional for society to handle with perfect certainty.
They said they understood, and I could see in their expressions that they did. They just wanted the best possible agreement.
Casey bounced up again, to enter the final changes, came back in a few seconds with another updated clean copy.
“Take one last read through it, please?” she asked me.
I did, carefully, found no typos, couldn’t see anything to change, add or delete, and said so. While I read, Tessa arose and moved to stand behind Casey, put her arm around Casey’s shoulder: Casey hugged Tessa’s hip to her, hard.
Tessa looked at me quizzically: “So, Randy… the contract is mostly your product, so I guess the test is whether or not you would sign that document yourself. Is it good enough for that?”
Not a bad way to gauge a professional’s work… a version of asking the engineer to stand beneath his bridge as they remove the scaffolding!
I judged that it was that good, so I nodded, said “I think so.”
Casey reached for the pen, slid it across the table to me, and said “Sign it, then.”
For a second, it just didn’t register at all. Then, when it did, my expression must have been absolutely priceless, because they simultaneously exploded in laughter.
When I didn’t move, Tessa leaned forward, picked up the pen: as she did so, Casey put her own hand atop Tessa’s and together they held the pen out to me.
It was Tessa who finally spoke: “Please?”
My cock reacted well before my brain did. Eventually, they got synchronized. I looked back and forth between the ladies. Both were beet red, but eye-locked on me. My brain-clutch finally engaged and things seemed to move again. Tessa had been an overt fantasy of mine ever since day one: God knows how many times I’d whacked off thinking about her face and tits and beautifully-shaped bottom, and here she was, here THEY were, together, offering me the chance, at least this once?
Would I (better yet, ‘could I’) say “NO, THANKS!”
Not very likely, sir.
Slowly, carefully, I reached for the pen, took it from their hands. I looked at it, then at them: they nodded, and whispered together, “Please?” Tessa continued: “You’re the best candidate we know of. We know you’re not gay, and, well, we hope you haven’t had a vasectomy or anything, and that you’re disease-free, because we trust you to tell us those things and we agree we don’t know anyone else we could say that about…”
I accepted the pen, pulled off the cap. This was a no-brainer for me, but I hesitated: lots of room for hurting people here, and I didn’t want to do that regardless of what my cock was telling me down out of sight below the tabletop. “Ladies, you honor me. I don’t know why it’s me you’ve chosen, but thank you. And no, I’ve had no vasectomy, and I have no diseases. And I’ve never fathered a child because I’ve always taken contraception pretty seriously”
I held the pause. “No fooling? No steel and glass? Just honest-to-Pete warm-blooded people and their personal built-in equipment?”
The ladies looked at one another, back at me, and Tessa smiled almost coyly: “Nope. No steel, no glass. Just you and me. But it has to be now, today, right now: it’s my most fertile ten or twelve hours, so one shot should do it. So to speak. If we’re lucky.”
My crotch brittled at the thought. No time to think, launch NOW!
As she spoke, I watched: when she said “…just you and me”, Casey tensed up slightly. I could understand that perfectly, and turned my attention to her. “So, Casey. Are you fully into this “Hooray, let’s conceive a kid modus au-natural” thing? Do you really want this to happen? Are you SURE the process – my involvement – isn’t going to Escort Kocaeli interfere with you two’s relationship in any way? Want the responsibility of a family? After all, I’m flattered as hell, but you can just have my sperm, I suppose, if you’d rather be a bit more impersonal. Would you prefer that?”
Casey bit her lip, looked at her spouse/lover, then at me, and whispered, suddenly a little girl and devoid of butch bravado, “Yes, I’m into it. And no, we talked a lot about it and we don’t want to go the turkey-baster route. We both think, seriously now, Mr Science, don’t laugh! We both think that external conditions really do influence events and personalities and such. We don’t want to take the chance of starting the kid out with bad influences.”
She kept on: “THEREFORE we want our child to be conceived naturally. Not artificially in any way. Warmth and human contact are SO important, they have to have an effect! I want you to make love to Tessa, with as much feeling as you two can muster. NOT just fuck her… that’s too ugly a concept, it would amount to some sort of rape, and would carry all the stigma of rape. We think it’s really important. You two can use our bedroom: it’s the right place for such an event.”
Bravely put, but Casey looked miserable, and was unconsciously clinging to Tessa like a fruit-bat. She almost sniffled.
I continued to hold the pen, motionless. Thought for a while. “Look, ladies, I’d love to help, glass jar if needed, au natural obviously preferred if you’re serious. But it wouldn’t be fair the way you seem to be suggesting, Casey, namely a private session between me and Tessa, with the other half sitting in a waiting room biting her nails or slowly turning green!”
“That’s clearly not fair to either of you or, eventually, to the kid. If these sorts of outside influences really do have any effect, then it seems to me that BOTH of a kid’s parents ought to be present during conception. They usually ARE, in most cases.”
I took a deep breath. “Look… I can be just a tool, another tool you borrow from me, however much more fun it may be this time – at least, for ME! But you two have to be a team in this. Otherwise, I don’t think it will work properly for the kid.” They both looked a bit startled. I kept right on: fantasy-ville time indeed. “So: I’d love to make love, but it should include the both of you. At least, you should both be present during the event. Okay?”
They eyed one another, and then Tessa said, very low, “Randy, that’s very nice of you, but… well, I didn’t let myself acknowledge being lesbian until I was about 22… actually, until I met Casey here. So, in my previous life, I’ve had boyfriends, and made love to a couple of men while I was busy being adolescent and unsure and scared and experimental. So I do know what I’m getting into.”
She giggled. “Or, more accurately, what’s getting into ME, maybe? But Casey has known perfectly what was he sexual orientation… ever since she was tiny… haven’t you, Dear?”
Casey nodded, her whole body tightened up apparently at the idea of letting me make love with her. I could practically feel the revulsion oozing out: however strongly she might be in favor of this “let’s have a baby” exercise, it was not for herself. Not even the idea of such contact was acceptable.
I responded: “Hey… that’s not what I meant. I can understand it perfectly, Casey, if you don’t want me to try out any male-female activities on you personally… that isn’t what I meant at all. And that’s fine. You may not understand it, but I really do think you, Casey, are quite physically attractive…” Casey looked genuinely startled by the idea that I, a 100% straight male, could find her attractive that way, and Tessa squeezed her hand, muttered “I think so too!”
My statement was true enough. I like women and I like women’s bodies… of the two of them I certainly would prefer Tessa, but both were nice.
I kept on: “So of course I’d like to make love to you if you wished, but you don’t… that’s fine with me, it’s not an insult, merely a statement of taste. I just feel that I don’t want to come between you two by helping you out…, and by having a good time doing it. And I do want to help start the kid off in a way that involves both of you and a lot of positive feelings. So, Casey, you should be there, at least observing and participating somehow. I don’t think that Tessa and I should have any secrets from YOU, Casey, just because it’ll be the two of us that actually try to make your baby.”
Tessa looked down at Casey and squeezed her, hard, whispered “He has a good point… please? It would be a lot more like actually making our child, don’t you think? You’ve GOT to at least be present!”
Casey took a deep breath, and visibly, consciously, relaxed a bit.
She nodded to me, then stood up and wrapped Tessa abruptly in a near-ferocious kiss. I had never in real life seen two women kiss so passionately, and for whatever reason, it was an enormous turn-on. Even if it was very clearly a possessive signal to me, by Casey. “SHE IS MY WOMAN!”
Casey broke the clinch she’d initiated, looked at me and whispered fiercely, “Sign it!”
I signed and looked up at them with my best “What now?” expression.
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