CHAPTER III

06:00

All night long, Kingson slept as if he was comatose but as soon as Mama H turned one way or another, his body would instinctively follow her movements. She took note of this and smiled - it was nice to be wanted and appreciated. At 6a.m. sharp she woke up again, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Encouraging Kingson to get up and start getting ready for work, they both performed their morning ablutions, touching and kissing and humping each other as opportunity arose. By 07:15 they were, at least, mostly dressed. Mama H had whipped up a tasty turkey, egg and cheese omelette with french toast breakfast. She partook incrementally, eating as much as a hungry bird would have. A finch. A baby finch. She hardly ate but she was thick as though those things were automatically stored in her hips, thighs and tits. It was almost 8a.m. when she began preparing to go. Kingson gently took her by the waist and held her, kissing her over and over down her neck and - she pulled away, wagging a finger at him and shaking her head.

"Oh no you don't!" she exclaimed amusingly but with that undertone if steel that made even her elders stand ramrod straight. "You and that devil dick ain't gonna have me here not knowing what to do with myself the whole morning." He raised his arms.

"The devil made me do it," Kingson said in a bassy preacher's voice. She laughed, took a sip of coffee and approached him, placing an outstretched arm upon his shoulder, admiring the way his muscles rippled with ease. He wore dress slacks and a form fitting wifebeater so she could still see the play of his abdominal muscles underneath. She smiled and looked deep into his gorgeous brown eyes. "But I will be back for seconds, maybe even thirds."

"And fourths," Kingson added, grabbing her and pulling her to him. "Fifths, sixths, sevenths..." He kissed her neck and she laughed, holding onto the back of his head with one hand and her coffee mug outstretched in the other. They stood in each other's arms and kissed sensually for some small time. It was 08:30 when Mama H kissed him one final time, shaking her head in amazement at this fine young creation. She opened the door and left as Kingson was placing all the used dishes and cups and glasses in the dishwasher, clearing the sink. The t.v. was on and CNN was reporting about the newly nominated American ambassador to Cameroon, Christopher Lamora, a proud and open LGBT supporter and member. He was married to a man and obviously espoused adult homosexual union; he was the "wife" in the union. The Republic of Cameroun was fiercely anti-homosexual, even though their ministers indulged frequently in homosexuality and bestial, occultic rituals. If he was confirmed, he would be the first openly gay American plenipotentiary... ever assigned... and to Cameroun. The US was keeping a cautious and heavy-lidded eye on the Ambazonian War of independence and seemed to be searching for provocative means, though politically correct, by which to enter the so-called "Anglophone Crisis." Mama H waited by the elevator a few minutes. Just as she decided to take the stairs the elevator arrived.