The Donor: When Conception Meets Deception (8 page)

Chase struggles to free himself but, five days a week at the gym, cannot budge this human tree trunk. His mouth foams at the corners. His eyes puff and the whites redden. His vision clouds. The noose around his neck tightens as he coughs and hacks. He is like a baby’s rattle in Man-Man's clutch.

“Okay, ease up…don’t want him to pass out. Sit him back in the chair," Eugene commands.

Man-Man drops Chase to the dirty carpet below, instead. Chase coughs and coughs and gasps. The buttons on his shirt have popped out revealing sausage finger impressions around his neck.

“Here playboy. Wipe that snot oozing from your nose," Eugene says, tossing him a packet of disposable pocket tissues.

Chase wipes his nose and the corners of his mouth. He braces his hand on the arm rest and stands himself up.

“
Now
are you listening?” Eugene says.

Chase gives a meek, beta male nod, and massages his throbbing neck.

“Now that I’ve made myself
abundantly
clear, let’s continue. So this is going to be easy. These chicks will be prearranged for you. They’re all looking to get pregnant. And they know the man doesn’t come with the deal. They’re cool with that. And they want someone just like you. Smart, handsome, athletic, clean bill of health…you
are
clean right? Eh, of course you are. And
no
family history of mental illness. We’ll just leave that little part out,” he says.

“You—
COUGH—COUGH
—you want me to be some kind of male prostitute?”

"Prostitution? Nah, you ain’t no hoe. I thought this—I mean
we
thought this through. See, with prostitutes you’re paying for the sex. But with this thing here? Nah, bro. They’re paying for the seed not the D. It’s brilliant. And ain’t nothing illegal about that.”

"The what? The seed? What seed?"

“Damn, you can be a dense dude. Look bro. These fine ass women, well at least most of them is fine, well maybe some of them, whatever, these chicks pay us to get them pregnant.”

“Pay us?” Chase says.

“Well not
us
exactly. They pay
you
. You get them pregnant and
we
get paid. Then you move on to the next one. You're not getting paid to have sex, just to bust a nut. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

"Let me get this straight. I’m supposed to get paid to have sex with—“

"Impregnate," Eugene corrects him.

“Uh, what's the difference?" Chase asks.

“
Sperm
, nigga, sperm. Jesus Christ, you’re a professor? The difference is that when you pay for sex that’s prostitution. They’re paying for your sperm, not for the sex,” Eugene says.

“This is still a criminal enterprise Eugene,” Chase says.

"It's not. We researched this shit. Europeans, Asians they do this surrogate thing all the time. They fly into the third world and pay some poor farmer's daughter. She lets them insert dude’s sperm, gets pregnant, and nine months later she squats, drops, and pops. Swish, nothing but net. She gives it to the couple and everybody’s happy. We just tweaked it a bit. And we don’t have to worry about no
po-po
since it ain’t a crime.”

"Eugene this is prostitution.”

“Dummy, no it ain't. Look. You get to bang some freaks with cash and don't have to worry about the consequences. They even pay
you
. What's better than that?" Eugene says.

“So you do it," Chase says.

“Number one, I know my limitations. You’re the perfect guy and I’m not. Chicks be diggin’ square dudes like you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Number two, you’re going to do this because you
owe
us. You wouldn’t have the life you have right now if it weren’t for us. But hey, you know what? Never mind. You don’t have to do it. Forget it.”

“Forget it?” Chase says.

“Yeah, just forget it. We’ll just take back everything we gave you. I’ll tell your lawyer chick, your university, that little group home your sob story brat is at…I’ll tell everyone about the great,
Chase Archibald
,” he says, curling his fingers like air quotes. “So what’s it gonna be? Door number one or door number two? Your choice.”

Chase takes a deep breath and wipes his sweaty palms over his forehead. Both scenarios frighten Chase.
I’m not ready for this. I need to think…I need to buy some time,
Chase says to himself.

“Look. Even assuming you're correct about the legalities, why this? Why don't these women just go to a fertility clinic?" Just as Eugene is about to answer, Man-Man yells down.

“Yo boss. Somebody coming," he says.

Chase frantically buttons his shirt and tucks in his shirt tail. Man-Man comes bounding down the steps. The door opens. Dressed in a striped navy skirt suit and gold blouse is Dean Octavia Ganges. Her white pearls cascade below her collar bone and rest on top of her plump, yet professionally buttoned up, bosom. The sparkly, white stones glisten like moonlight on her melted, dark chocolate skin.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn't know you were in a meeting Professor Archibald. Is that why you didn't make our six o’clock?"

“Six o’? Dean Ganges no, I'm so sorry. I—“

"Dean Ganges is it?" Eugene interrupts. He extends his arm to greet her and cups her hand in his palms like a pearl in an oyster shell.

“Yes,” she says, twisting her neck and raising her eyebrow at his wrist.

"My apologies ma'am. My associate and I are old friends of the professor. We're visiting for the weekend and we decided to surprise him. It’s not his fault. He did mention to us earlier that he had to get to a meeting with a lovely colleague. That obviously was you,” Eugene says.

“Well, I doubt Professor Archibald referred to me as his lovely colleague, although I am quite easy on the eyes of course," Dean Ganges says with a smirk.

“That you are indeed,” Eugene says with a sinister grin.

All three men stand, staring at Dean Ganges. A silence of a few seconds feels like an hour to Chase. Feelings of fight or flight, mix with fear and fury. Dean Ganges breaks the forced calm.

"Well, Professor Archibald we can just reschedule.”

"Oh no, no miss. I mean, Dean Ganges," Eugene says. "My partner and I can continue our conversation with Chase tomorrow. We may end up staying in town for
several
more days," he says, slapping his hand on Chase's shoulder. ”In fact we can drop by tomorrow morning at your place Chase. Henry Street right?" Eugene says.

Chase strains his facial muscles to prevent himself from frowning.

“Good, it’s settled,” Eugene says, patting Chase twice on his back. He and Man-Man traipse up the steps and exit the lecture hall.

Dean Ganges stands in front of Chase. He does his best to mask his emotions. They begin to discuss the first item on their agenda but Chase’s mind is elsewhere. It drifts back ten years to his first time meeting Eugene. As the Dean talks, Chase hides his clammy palms in the deep pockets of his corduroys; he wriggles the digits in his long, square-toed Italian leather shoes. Perhaps sensing his discomfort she cuts the conversation short.

“You know what Chase? Let’s continue this next week.”

“Dean Ganges I’m sorry. I’m just not—“

“Shush. Think nothing of it,” she says. “Next week.”

She gives him a brief hug, a polite peck on the cheek, and walks up the steps.

"Oh and Chase? Try to relax this weekend. You seem…a bit tense.”

The door shutters behind her. And the sun has set.



A
delicate jasmine and lavender scent tickles his nose. A calm, nurturing touch slinks across his engorged chest. Somewhere between dream and reality he feels velvety fingers stroke his inner thighs. It causes a slow, expanding rise. His eyes say good morning as his arms yawn. He props himself up by the elbows, but is shoved back onto the pillowy mattress by a pair of frisky fingers. She massages them into the mocha hued nakedness of his chest. Her healthy thighs mount and straddle him. She coils her ankles under his hard calves and locks. And she pops. And she churns. And pops and churns, and pops and churns, on her rigid man-saddle as if her hips were juicing a lemon.

He massages his pancake palms on her buttery breasts and squeezes. He pinches her pecan peaks and twists her dials like he’s turning up the volume.

“Ah-Ah-Owww. Chase. Baby. That…that…hurts…ooh…so…so…damn…guh-guh-good,” she whimpers.

Her lips swoop down to his. Slippery slops of eager tongues smack and echo against the bedroom walls. She rocks and grinds like a buckaroo. He gives a
POP
to her ample left bottom and smacks the juicy right cheek as if he’s scolding a naughty child. She flinches. He
SMACK-SMACK-SMACK’s
again and clutches; he takes possession. His forceful pulling and pushing and pulling and pushing causes her to moan and whine. Their bodies embrace but it is their hearts that merge and their souls that intertwine.

“Jenae, baby…I love you. Baby, I just love you so much,” he says between excited kisses.

"I love—mmm—you—mmmhmm—too, birthday boy,” she says.

She teases light kisses on his eyebrows, and then his nose, and each chiseled cheekbone. She pecks the manicured hairs of his chin. Traveling further south, her long moist tongue extends across the length of his pronounced Adam's apple. His mouth opens and his lungs fill as she journeys to his pecs and nibbles. “Mmm you taste so sweet,” she says. He can’t help but utter a small yelp. He inserts his fingers into her wispy and wild curls. The tickle of her follicles intoxicate him; he desires more of her. He palms the top of her head and guides her down from his chest. She protrudes the tip of her tongue into his navel; she circles it inside as if she were licking the bottom of a bowl of homemade chocolate icing. His heart palpitates. His jaw drops limp like the neighborhood drunk. Although he keeps pressing…she resists his prodding for her to go below his belly button.

“You’re teasing me,” he tiger growls.

“I know,” she says.

She doesn’t make him wait for much longer however; she starts licking and lapping her way down. Her tongue tickles his
spot
. He gets chills and twitches. His reaction elicits a mischievous grin from her. So she does it again.

“Jenae,” he barks, as she makes him shiver. She’s like a devil with a remote control.

Chase moans in anticipation of her descent. Her soft chin slithers lower; it brushes the top of a long and swelling stiffness. His stomach jolts and his hips squirm.

“Ha, Ha, Haaa,” she laughs. She enjoys being diabolical.

She’s driving him insane. He palms both of her temples; she drops her jaw with a smile. Chase gasps as her warm, wet and tender lips engulf his thick, throbbing and succulent—

BANG BANG BANG...BANG BANG BANG

“Yo, Chase.”

BANG BANG BANG

“Yo, Chase. Wake up playa. Chase. Yo man. Eh Yooo.”

The banging and yells come from outside the open bedroom window.

Jenae glares up at Chase.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she mumbles.

“Eh, Yo Chase. Come on brutha from anutha mutha,” the relentless voice says.

“It’s Tanaka,” Chase says. He sighs and drops his head back on the pillow.

”And you wonder why I don't like him," Jenae says.

BANG BANG BANG

“Yo Chase. Your doorbell ain’t working yo. Open up playaaa.”

“I know you’re not crazy about him. But he’s my best friend and he’s a good dude babe," Chase says.

He rolls out of the bed, accidentally pulling the sheet off with him, exposing Jenae’s rump. Chase eyes her derriere with a smile.

“Mmm, nice," he says.

"Too late now
playaaa
," she mocks. "Go throw something on for your little boyfriend."

Chase scampers into the master bath and cups a few splashes of water onto his face. He towels off, grabs last night's blue jeans from the door hook, and scurries past Jenae. She herself is scouring the closet hangers for something to toss on. Chase barrels down both flights of cherrywood stairs, goes through the living room and peers through the glass of the front door. Standing outside is Tanaka Hirohito. He has an overstuffed paper bag in one arm. His overgrown black, moppy hair obscures his eyes. He gives a single nod. Chase opens the door.

“Hey, hey, hey. Happy Birthday big bro,” Tanaka says.

He bear hugs Chase and shoves the paper bag in his gut like a quarterback handing the ball off.

“
Ooof—
Okay, what’s this?” Chase says as he looks inside the bag. “Bagels? You bought me a dozen bagels for my birthday?”

“What can I say? I’m a big spender. And that’s a baker’s dozen so there’s actually thirteen in there. You got anything to drink?” Tanaka says and walks inside.

Chase shakes his head and closes the front door behind them. He follows Tanaka into the kitchen and places the bag on the counter near two liters of Fiji water.

“So, celebrating the big 3-0 today, huh?”

Tanaka opens the refrigerator door, grabs a carton of orange juice, and starts chugging from it.

“What took you so long to…
GULP, GULP, GULP…
Aaaah…to answer the door?”

Jenae walks down the steps in black leggings, purple sneakers and a periwinkle tunic.

“Oooh, now I see what took you so long. Did I interrupt something Jenae?”

Tanaka’s tone is like that of a happy party pooper.

Jenae gives Tanaka a side-eye as she pours herself a glass of the bottled water.

“Wait, I know you’re not drinking
my
juice out of the carton,” she says.

“Behave Tanaka. You're my boy but this here is my boo," Chase says.

Jenae sticks her tongue out at Tanaka. She gives Chase a pat on the butt and walks over to the bag of bagels. She sniffs inside the still warm paper bag; she removes a hot and crispy cinnamon raisin.

“Hey, I bought those for Chase,” Tanaka says.

“Little boy please. Make yourself useful and hand me the butter,” Jenae says.

Tanaka grits his teeth and retrieves the small tub of whipped butter from the frig.

“Whatever, with that boo stuff. I met Chase first. Seven years ago. Your bagel stealing behind only been around for three years.”

"And I'll still be here when your broke, no job having ass, is gone.”

She sips the water, and sticks her hand out, demanding the butter.

“First of all I
have
a job. I’m a self-employed DJ.”

“Hah. That’s a hoot. Apparently a self-employed comedian too,” she says, buttering her bagel.

“And I got mad paper mama, moolah, the cheddar, okay? So don’t even try to—“

“Okay, okay. Can you two
not
fight for once? It
is
my birthday remember?”

“Aight Chase, you right, you right. I’ll be the bigger man.”

“You’ll need a step stool for that,” Jenae says dangling half-a-bagel in between her fingers.

“Shoo fly, shoo,” Tanaka says, brushing his fingers in the air. “By the way Chase. I need that flash drive I lent you.”

“Flash drive? Oh yeah, the 90’s hip-hop mix you put together?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Tanaka replies.

“Okay, it’s in my leather bag.”

Chase walks into the living room.

"Good...I need it for a special mix I'm making for your party tonight," Tanaka says.

Chase freezes. Jenae slams her glass on the marble counter top with such force it’s shocking that it doesn’t break. Her eyebrows arch in fury as her fists clench and eyes pop out. She sears a look of contempt in Tanaka’s direction. He gulps a throat full of orange juice with a goofy look on his face.

“What?” he shrugs.

“What? What do you mean
what
?" Jenae says.

She stomps over to Tanaka, stabbing her finger only millimeters from his forehead.

"What part of the text: Reminder…
surprise
thirtieth birthday celebration for Chase tonight at eight, did you
not
understand you moron?”

Tanaka’s mouth drops.

“Oh…uh…um…Surprise?” he says with a dopey grin and shoulders pinned to his ears.

”You had
one
job. One. And that was to be the DJ. That's it. Tap a button on a computer. Spin a record. Frankly, it’s the only thing you actually do well, other than run your damn mouth."

“Honey. It’s okay. I—,” Chase attempts to say.

Jenae hushes him and turns back to Tanaka.

"You did this on purpose didn't you? I can't believe this. This was supposed to be a surprise.
Surprise
," she yells.

"Babe. Chill. I knew already," Chase says.

Jenae stops mid-rant.

“Chase, what do you mean you knew?"

“Well, I wasn't going to spoil the surprise but one of your friends, I’m not going to say who, forwarded the party invite to me. Obviously, by mistake.”

“Hah. So one of
your
friends Miss thangy, thang, thang,” Tanaka says as he shakes his hips, bobbles his head, and shoots both index fingers in and out at Jenae.

“Oh, shut up," Jenae says.

Chase sees the disappointment on Jenae’s face. He wraps her waist in his arm and pulls her into his strong grip. He warms the side of her face with his palm, presses his forehead to hers and smoothes her frustration away.

“Baby, no one is more important to me than you," he says.

Tanaka clears his throat.

"And you mean more to me than a
hundred
birthdays. You gave me the greatest surprise any man could ever ask for that day you walked into my life. And I love you. Always and forever.”

“Oh gag me with a spoon. I'm going in the other room," Tanaka says.

Chase kisses the bridge of her nose.

"But it was supposed to be a surprise," she whines with a little girl’s pucker.

“Awww, come closer," he says.

“But I'm already close," she baby talks.

“Not this kind of close,” he says.

Chase cradles her cheeks, needles her nose with his, and relaxes his forehead on her brow. He presses his luscious lips to her soft frown. He can feel her hot breaths pulse and shout from her nostrils. He savors the moistness of her kiss with an invading tongue. He licks the candied goodness of her palate. She’s delicious. His massive palms breeze down her back and seize her buttocks.

“You’re always so commanding,” she says as her breasts heave into his chest.

”I hear you guys in there," Tanaka yells from the other room.

The two lovers lock and release and lock and release their lips. Their eyes smile.

“Wooo. Damn boy. You sure know how to pull a woman from the ledge.”

“Hey I have to tell you a secret,” he says.

“What’s your secret?” she replies.

“I heard Chase loves Jenae,” he says.

“Really? Wow. I heard Jenae loves Chase
more
,” she says with a kiss and a pop on his booty.

Tanaka rolls back into the kitchen from the living room. He has a wafer like flash drive between his fingers.

“So is the freaky deeky show over now? I found the drive in your bag by the way.”

Chase nods once to acknowledge Tanaka but his smile remains on Jenae.

“Babe, you should probably get ready for Devantay now. I’m going upstairs to shower,” Jenae says.

She winks and heads up the steps.

“You and Devantay today? Where you taking the little dude?” Tanaka says.

“The transit museum downtown Brooklyn. One of his group home counselors mentioned that Devantay has shown an interest in the history of public transportation. So I figure seeing some of the old subway cars, turnstiles and buses would be a good trip. Plus it’s close by,” Chase says.

He looks at Tanaka and bobs his head towards the front door…twice.

“Oh…oh…okay. I get it. I got stuff to do anyway. I’ll catch you later tonight at Andrea’s,” Tanaka says.

“Andrea’s? Why would I be going over to—? Oh right. The party is going to be at Andrea’s,” Chase says.

“Bro, wait. I thought you said the party invite got sent to you by mistake?”

Chase doesn’t respond.

“Oh snap…that wasn’t true?” Tanaka says covering his mouth.

“I love my lady. I wasn’t going to let you be the one to ruin her surprise with that motor mouth of yours. I had to think quick. But yeah I’ll see you later. Now get on out of here. I have some unfinished business upstairs,” Chase says.

He and Tanaka fist bump and brohug. Chase closes the door behind him and sprints up the steps. Moments later the misty sound of the shower’s spray mixes with the hard, wet sounds of skin slapping, feminine moans, manly grunts and the synchronized screams of lovers, making love in the porcelain rain
.