The mood was broken when Melina’s face became distorted, and a series of wet sounds emitted from her bottom. Milena seemed relieved. Tamara laughed and stood back. I looked up at Tamara with apprehension and a small amount of hope. I saw only humor in her face as she collected a diaper from one of the gym bags. She was desperately trying not to look happy. I think I was about to experience a little revenge for missing the birth of my child.
“Jonathan,” Tamara called in her lovely accent. I turned and caught the diaper that she tossed my way. The smile on her face was brutal. She expected me to change my first diaper right that moment. I smiled back as if it was going to be an easy task. Inside, I was cringing.
Undoing the old diaper was easy, opening it brought back my survival instincts. Tamara found my face hilarious. Milena began kicking her feet with excitement, making an awful runny mess worse. I was handed moist wipes and began trying to clean up the discharge while trying not to look at it. For such a tiny butt, my daughter produced a large mess. It took a lot longer than I expected to clean it all up. I rolled the dirty wipes into the foul diaper and closed it up. Tamara had a plastic bag ready for it. I powdered Melina’s butt as instructed and affixed the new diaper under Tamara’s watchful eye. Milena thought the whole process was exciting.
When I looked up to Tamara, emotionally exhausted, she tackled me right there on the bed. The kissing was fierce. I suspected I passed a test. Milena started cooing next to us which ended our quick bout of passion. I didn’t think Tamara could be any happier. Somehow, she found my changing the diaper thrilling. I was secretly hoping my daughter would fill another as I wrapped Tamara in one arm and tickled Melina’s foot with the other.
It took a long time to get Milena to sleep. She was in a playful mood, probably due to the new surroundings and an overly attentive father. Once her eyes were closed, her practiced mother was able to deposit her in the crib without her waking.
“Shhh,” Tamara warned me with her finger to her lips. The smile in her eyes told me I would have trouble following the command. She shut off the main light and began unbuttoning her blouse. I stopped her with a kiss, moving her arms to her sides. I wanted so much to undress her myself.
“I have been waiting a year,” I whispered in English. She needed no translation since the tone was more important than the words. “I want this to last,” I added as I began to complete the unbuttoning of her blouse. She smiled and allowed me to my pleasure. I pushed the blouse over her shoulder and let it fall to the floor. My lips began tasting her newly exposed skin. It was softer than I remembered. I delighted in the shiver I sent through her body as my fingers explored.
“Shhh,” I warned as a moan escaped her lips. My smile matched hers as she saw the humor in my warning. I undid that clasp on her bra and released her heavy breasts. She whispered something as I explored them, I am sure explaining their increased size and weight. I cared not for the biology, only the beauty. That they feed my daughter made them more wonderful though I took care not to use too much pressure. Light kisses and tender caresses brought more lovely sounds to my ears.
“Shhh,” Tamara giggled to me. It was her making the sounds. I suppressed my laugh at the irony. I undid her pants and slowly lowered them. Above her panty line, I could see light lines of her pregnancy, the marks of motherhood in the dim light. Tamara’s hand covered one as she whispered her concern. I dropped to my knees and moved her hand. My lips caressing the marks, loving what she had gone through without me, trying to erase my guilt for not being there. Her hand found my hair as I kissed every line, following them across her belly. I looked up as I lowered her panties.
“I love you,” Tamara whispered, her eyes glossy with tears. Guilt flooded through me. I hadn’t been there when she needed me. I wanted her to know that I would be there from now on. Nothing would drag me away again. She stepped out of her panties, and I kissed the top of her soft mound. I rose, and our lips joined as she began undressing me.
Tamara showed no further shyness when my clothes found the floor. Her hand wrapped around my obvious arousal as she whispered tempting words in my ear. I understood one in ten, but the idea was very clear. My hand found a home between her thighs. Her words lost structure as I explored. I could feel her lips curving on my neck as I softly played with her. She was as excited as I.
We fell upon the bed and Tamara pulled me between her legs. There was so much room compared to the hovel, no cold, yet the feeling was the same. There was no more impending doom forcing us into each other’s arms. We simply didn’t want to be anywhere else. Eye to eye, I entered her. She wrapped her legs around me and held me deep as we shared the same air. I tried to move, but she countered it by lifting her hips, and a smile emerged on her face. She whispered something about putting things together, joining. I relaxed, letting my smile merge with hers. She wanted to hold me in her, just feel me. I couldn’t think of a better place to be.
“A little bit of heaven,” I whispered. Tamara nodded though she didn’t understand a word of my English. I played with the hair, forcing it behind her ear with caressing strokes. We lay, studying each other, sharing looks and smiles, speaking volumes without a saying a word. In time, our bodies revolted, no longer able to withstand such stillness. We moved with the grace of knowing lovers, accenting each other’s movements and enhancing the pleasure we found in each other.
Tamara lost herself first, something I was worried my growing excitement wouldn’t allow. Her pelvis rose, grinding into mine, The movement, and her moans set my body on fire. I joined her on a luxurious flight into the clouds. Both of our bodies stiffened, my face buried in the pillow in an attempt to not wake Melina.
We held each other as control returned to our muscles. Tamara, giggling, was kissing my shoulder. “We are damn good at that,” I said in English when my breath returned. Tamara agreed, knowing my meaning if not my words. I laughed at her happy eyes, and she broke into laughter as well. It was a wonder that Milena never woke.
++++++++++++++++++++++
I awoke as Tamara was untangling herself from me. Milena was crying. Not an end-of-the-world cry. A small cry announcing she was awake. I sat up to ease Tamara’s movements. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I heard Tamara soothing Milena as she picked her up. Tamara sat down on the end of the bed and began feeding our daughter. I scooted behind Tamara, kissing her shoulder and watched Milena suckle with her eyes closed. I wasn’t even sure she fully woke up.
Tamara leaned into me with a sigh. I became her back support, lightly caressing her sides as her head fell back on my shoulder. We shared a brief kiss as Tamara shifted to make herself more comfortable in my arms. Both mother and child had their eyes closed. I smiled at the wonderful experience. It was a habit of love for the two, but it was new to me.
My daughter was a pig. I lightly stroked her cheek as she suckled. I could feel her muscles working hard. I wondered if it was painful for Tamara. She didn’t seem to be bothered as she lay contented against my back. I felt Tamara smile when I lightly caressed her breast trying to figure out how it all worked. I kissed Tamara softly, and she closed her eyes again. The whole situation was surreal and well worth the loss of sleep.
Finally, when Milena was fully sated, her mouth lost contact with the nipple. I smiled at her contented face lost in dreamland. Tamara shivered awake when I moved. I calmed her and lifted Milena carefully in my arms. Tamara sleepily whispered something I didn’t understand as I moved toward the crib, my daughter snuggled to my chest.
Milena made a gurgling sound and belched in her sleep. I have no idea what mother’s milk smelled like straight out of the breast. I now knew it had a very unpleasant odor when it came back up. I held Milena away from the mess she just made on my chest. Tamara was stifling a laugh as she whispered something close to “I told you so.” I laid Milena carefully in her crib and turned to a smiling Tamara who was waving me toward the bathroom. The diaper and the spit-up were happy revenge for me missing so much. I had to smile when Tamara began cleaning me up. She seemed so pleased that I took it well. Daughters were messy. They made up for it by being so damned cute.
I, again, fell asleep in Tamara’s arms.
We spent the next day being tourists. Tamara was showing me the sites of Yerevan, walking where we could and driving when we had to. Milena rode on my chest in a baby sling thing that allowed her to see everything without expending any energy. Every once in awhile, I had to hand her over to Tamara. Milena needed reassurance that mom was still there.
We were at the foot of the Cascades, a beautiful art deco version of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, when I decided to risk everything. I knew what I wanted. I believed Tamara wanted it as well. There was fear all the same. I retrieved the little black ring box and placed it into Melina’s hand. I pretended not to notice as she tasted it and let out a grunt when it didn’t fit in her mouth. Tamara, a mother who knew her grunts, turned and quickly removed it from Melina’s fingers. She was talking, mostly to herself as she examined the small box with confusion. Milena reached out to try and grab it back, but mom wasn’t having it.