'La noche que me quieras,
desde el azul del cielolas estrellas celosas
nos mirarán pasar.'
Carlos Gardel and Le Pera
Our Gardel love affair began in one of those cold March dawns, in which we feel the first strong chills signaling that the summer is leaving away our Falkland Islands and the whole Chilean and Argentine continental Patagonia as well.
How could that so handsome bird's body have made and brought inside such a huge amount of a so thick white, creamy fluid. It must have been gallons of semen, because I felt an unusual feeling of fullness within belly, which didn't stop to trickle down my thighs for a lot of time, thus soaking all those bed sheets hubby was giving us to drying it out.
Meanwhile, we could sense a sweet jasmine fragrance coming from my penguin's sperm.
Yes, it had a strong, sweet jasmine aroma. We, Kelper women, were not aware a penguin's cum might smells so exquisite. Not only the married, widows, divorced or prostitutes, but even female virgins have been able to sense at dawn its perfume. Consequently, all of us became pregnant at a same date, in a same way.
Ramón suddenly showed up incredibly happy, surely thinking the coming baby could be his so longed son. But no hope, the baby was not his, and soon the so peculiar nature of my pregnancy became manifest. Belly grew too fast, leading to my wondering why, not finding any answer. Dr Caballero was not in Stanley, having by then travelled to attend a medical congress in Europe whose subject was 'Environmental Disasters Impact on Wildlife and Human Fertility'. Only two weeks after my life's happiest dawn, I looked like a third month pregnant woman. On April 8th at sunrise a fundamental change took place in our lives. Suddenly I felt a single strong uterine colic, taking for granted that hundreds of Kelper women were feeling it too, at that same moment.
Each of us laid her own egg. Every new mother took care of hers as if it were a most beloved human child. Aware they had to stay always warm, we strived to protect them the whole Fall long. Laid mine on our own couple bed, from where I wished it could never leave, turned the central heating max, fearing however this was not enough. As for husband, he politely kept on helping us. But do not think evil of him, since at this point there was not on his mind except a ridiculously small hope that within such eggshell could be living his "pretty Ramoncito". He brought me all home blankets and upon my asking he fired up the wood hearth as in our childhood's winters. I did not leave my egg-child alone not even for a minute during those terribly cold, windy autumnal months. Malvinas Islands' four seasons are all equally windy and cold, according to the comments of the so rare foreign visitors.
Put my egg in contact with my body's hottest areas, then falling asleep by his side.
Neither I nor husband have ever understood why Gardel, his father's name in our horniest fantasies, never came back to see us. Neither could we understand how could he go away to the sea without a word or even a goodbye glance to us. Sometimes, we wonder whether our so rude attempts to dry out his semen using old bed sheets have hurt him... We will never ever forgive ourselves for that.
Love for my son has been the most intense possible. I always slept embracing him, feeling an intense pleasure while rubbing puss-pussy against him. Telling the whole truth, I did it every morning, every night, incessantly, always keeping in mind the magic dawn when Gardel had visited us.
Ramón for watching my so lovely caresses, got extremely excited so leading us to a very peculiar kind of threesome.
Falkland's coldest nights have always their festive celebrations, but on that Saint John's night, June 24, all females in Stanley were quiet inside their homes, waiting for the moment when they would 'give birth' to whatever could get out from those eggshells.
When they finally broke all happened the way I was foreseeing. No monster was born -- half-man, half-penguin -- as religious people were prophesying.
At that midnight I gave birth through that huge eggshell to my first and single son: a soft, pretty, and lovely male penguin.
The following hours, all Stanley people saw their lives' saddest sunrise, no matter if males or females. Really it is till now not at all easy to understand how we have survived those events.
Whenever any of those eggs broke, a mother and a stepfather burst into a loud, screaming cry, supplicating them not to leave away.
But to no avail, our children did not pay attention to our pleas, and did not even take note of their stepfathers. They swam away by the hundreds, crossing the Blanco Bay. Hundreds of penguin-children, who had no human trace, but whom we love even more than if they had.
Who could imagine such weird events would ever happen to us, Stanley's dwellers, such a tiny, peaceful community from South America's extreme, one among the Southernmost towns on Earth? On that dawn a series of life overturning events have begun to us, the Kelpers, a so quiet and hardworking people from the Malvinas Islands. Among islander, women have been especially hit, notwithstanding our piously Christian mores which always have kept if not our chastity at least our feminine honor.
I, for 9 years married to Carlos Ramón, had not yet got the divine grace of conceiving a baby. Doctor Caballero, however, was assuring us everything all right with our bodies, advising patience to "give free course to the spontaneous flow of reproductive events". A very serious, reserved Porteño immigrant like us, he always avoided the words 'sexual events'. According to him, there was no reason to worry at all, since our physical health for getting pregnant was excellent.
"Nonetheless, if one or both of you, Carlos Ramón and/or Maria de la Concepción, get too anxious, this may hinder the normal physiologic processes culminating in the gametes' fusion".
As for me, I had already given up and no longer counted the passing days, months, or years in which we were trying in vain to conceive. My hubby, however, still suffered a lot, taking detailed notes on his personal calendar about my periods' the beginning, in his quest to my most probable ovulation day. Keeping distant from me during my cycle's first ten days, we used to fuck exactly from the eleventh till the twentieth day, oddly always at midnight. A friend of his, who is father to five pretty boys, had told us to having always cummed in his wife at midnight. Carlos Ramón is a lifelong suggestible man.
Adding to that routine, he always expected me to reach my 'best orgasm', as he used to say, otherwise my womb "would not efficiently suck the sperm". Such his scientific readings advised.
For all that, no wonder my huge surprise when, on March 21st while deep sleeping at early dawn, I felt that so smooth and so intense, so hot, and so maddening touch on the most sensitive point of my puss-pussy. With the latter word Ramón so tenderly names my genitals since our marriage before the Catholic priest. That dawn, at first, I thought he was throwing away his calendar and hateful watch, because we were at the seventh day of my cycle, that one in which, for the first, unusual time, I got pregnant.
I let things go, without opening my eyes, since it was so that I usually had "los orgasmos más intensos" (most intense orgasms). No, please, do not think that a cheating Ramón fantasy with another guy was an often one. Most times, indeed, I chose not to look at his face just to not to see the huge anxiety for having his own children.
Relaxing then my whole self, wide opening my legs, I realized something quite different had to be on course, because his hands were not touching my pussy, since those repetitive mechanical caresses learned in how-to-do books were missing.
No, I cannot belittle my hubby's abilities as a sexual partner, because such "mechanical caresses", despite learned in books, always had their ultimate good results.
Yet, that lusty dawn fuck was sublime, heavenly since the first touch with those rhythmical movements of hard softness of a so thick cock penetrating me from under his smooth, chilling feathers. Just then I lost completely, for first time in life, my self-awareness. Mixing myself with the entire world and its surrounding things, I began to howl like a wolf, to roar like a lion, and to cry as a baby, in a way nobody could have ever thought a woman would be able to while making love. Speaking the truth, at that moment there was not for me any other possibility but taking as a wonderful dream that queer sensation of feathers and plumage rubbing my legs. I didn't wish to open my eyes, yet, even if strongly suspecting I was not with Ramón but with an unknown guy.
I did scream in pleasure for about twenty endless minutes. Hubby rectifies me, saying that I bawled for exactly forty-nine minutes. But I don't believe this, just because it would be too much. Well, what does it matter, if any orgasm abolish time's sense, don't it?
When I opened my eyes, there was not any other man. Not even had come out from my husband all that so abundant, thick semen that finally has succeeded in making a mother of me.
Ramón had woken up by my howls, got horny, choosing then to remain as a cuckold voyeur for watching "the best fuck in all magical tales ever published, a porn event hornier than everything available on bizarre sex internet sites, from American hubs to Italian XXX, in his own words. Well, by no means was up to me to doubt him or to disagree with those praising words, perplexed to see my possessive husband forgetting his so usual, strong jealousy.
As my sweet memories register there was a full surrender of myself to Gardel, and not just of my 'pu-pussy'. All my skin burnt of desire for that so handsome, athletic, stalwart hot, and gorgeous penguin.
Oh yes, it has been one of those pretty penguins, whose habitat is Blanco Bay, who chose me as a mating partner that night.
Ramón laying in the same bed did not bother my newest lover at all! When the fucking was over, I, my penguin and hubby were looking at each other with an undefinable perplex, ecstatic feeling.
I, for 9 years married to Carlos Ramón, had not yet got the divine grace of conceiving a baby. Doctor Caballero, however, was assuring us everything all right with our bodies, advising patience to "give free course to the spontaneous flow of reproductive events". A very serious, reserved Porteño immigrant like us, he always avoided the words 'sexual events'. According to him, there was no reason to worry at all, since our physical health for getting pregnant was excellent.
"Nonetheless, if one or both of you, Carlos Ramón and/or Maria de la Concepción, get too anxious, this may hinder the normal physiologic processes culminating in the gametes' fusion".
As for me, I had already given up and no longer counted the passing days, months, or years in which we were trying in vain to conceive. My hubby, however, still suffered a lot, taking detailed notes on his personal calendar about my periods' the beginning, in his quest to my most probable ovulation day. Keeping distant from me during my cycle's first ten days, we used to fuck exactly from the eleventh till the twentieth day, oddly always at midnight. A friend of his, who is father to five pretty boys, had told us to having always cummed in his wife at midnight. Carlos Ramón is a lifelong suggestible man.
Adding to that routine, he always expected me to reach my 'best orgasm', as he used to say, otherwise my womb "would not efficiently suck the sperm". Such his scientific readings advised.
For all that, no wonder my huge surprise when, on March 21st while deep sleeping at early dawn, I felt that so smooth and so intense, so hot, and so maddening touch on the most sensitive point of my puss-pussy. With the latter word Ramón so tenderly names my genitals since our marriage before the Catholic priest. That dawn, at first, I thought he was throwing away his calendar and hateful watch, because we were at the seventh day of my cycle, that one in which, for the first, unusual time, I got pregnant.
I let things go, without opening my eyes, since it was so that I usually had "los orgasmos más intensos" (most intense orgasms). No, please, do not think that a cheating Ramón fantasy with another guy was an often one. Most times, indeed, I chose not to look at his face just to not to see the huge anxiety for having his own children.
Relaxing then my whole self, wide opening my legs, I realized something quite different had to be on course, because his hands were not touching my pussy, since those repetitive mechanical caresses learned in how-to-do books were missing.
No, I cannot belittle my hubby's abilities as a sexual partner, because such "mechanical caresses", despite learned in books, always had their ultimate good results.
Yet, that lusty dawn fuck was sublime, heavenly since the first touch with those rhythmical movements of hard softness of a so thick cock penetrating me from under his smooth, chilling feathers. Just then I lost completely, for first time in life, my self-awareness. Mixing myself with the entire world and its surrounding things, I began to howl like a wolf, to roar like a lion, and to cry as a baby, in a way nobody could have ever thought a woman would be able to while making love. Speaking the truth, at that moment there was not for me any other possibility but taking as a wonderful dream that queer sensation of feathers and plumage rubbing my legs. I didn't wish to open my eyes, yet, even if strongly suspecting I was not with Ramón but with an unknown guy.
I did scream in pleasure for about twenty endless minutes. Hubby rectifies me, saying that I bawled for exactly forty-nine minutes. But I don't believe this, just because it would be too much. Well, what does it matter, if any orgasm abolish time's sense, don't it?
When I opened my eyes, there was not any other man. Not even had come out from my husband all that so abundant, thick semen that finally has succeeded in making a mother of me.
Ramón had woken up by my howls, got horny, choosing then to remain as a cuckold voyeur for watching "the best fuck in all magical tales ever published, a porn event hornier than everything available on bizarre sex internet sites, from American hubs to Italian XXX, in his own words. Well, by no means was up to me to doubt him or to disagree with those praising words, perplexed to see my possessive husband forgetting his so usual, strong jealousy.
As my sweet memories register there was a full surrender of myself to Gardel, and not just of my 'pu-pussy'. All my skin burnt of desire for that so handsome, athletic, stalwart hot, and gorgeous penguin.
Oh yes, it has been one of those pretty penguins, whose habitat is Blanco Bay, who chose me as a mating partner that night.
Ramón laying in the same bed did not bother my newest lover at all! When the fucking was over, I, my penguin and hubby were looking at each other with an undefinable perplex, ecstatic feeling.
How could that so handsome bird's body have made and brought inside such a huge amount of a so thick white, creamy fluid. It must have been gallons of semen, because I felt an unusual feeling of fullness within belly, which didn't stop to trickle down my thighs for a lot of time, thus soaking all those bed sheets hubby was giving us to drying it out.
Meanwhile, we could sense a sweet jasmine fragrance coming from my penguin's sperm.
Yes, it had a strong, sweet jasmine aroma. We, Kelper women, were not aware a penguin's cum might smells so exquisite. Not only the married, widows, divorced or prostitutes, but even female virgins have been able to sense at dawn its perfume. Consequently, all of us became pregnant at a same date, in a same way.
Ramón suddenly showed up incredibly happy, surely thinking the coming baby could be his so longed son. But no hope, the baby was not his, and soon the so peculiar nature of my pregnancy became manifest. Belly grew too fast, leading to my wondering why, not finding any answer. Dr Caballero was not in Stanley, having by then travelled to attend a medical congress in Europe whose subject was 'Environmental Disasters Impact on Wildlife and Human Fertility'. Only two weeks after my life's happiest dawn, I looked like a third month pregnant woman. On April 8th at sunrise a fundamental change took place in our lives. Suddenly I felt a single strong uterine colic, taking for granted that hundreds of Kelper women were feeling it too, at that same moment.
Each of us laid her own egg. Every new mother took care of hers as if it were a most beloved human child. Aware they had to stay always warm, we strived to protect them the whole Fall long. Laid mine on our own couple bed, from where I wished it could never leave, turned the central heating max, fearing however this was not enough. As for husband, he politely kept on helping us. But do not think evil of him, since at this point there was not on his mind except a ridiculously small hope that within such eggshell could be living his "pretty Ramoncito". He brought me all home blankets and upon my asking he fired up the wood hearth as in our childhood's winters. I did not leave my egg-child alone not even for a minute during those terribly cold, windy autumnal months. Malvinas Islands' four seasons are all equally windy and cold, according to the comments of the so rare foreign visitors.
Put my egg in contact with my body's hottest areas, then falling asleep by his side.
Neither I nor husband have ever understood why Gardel, his father's name in our horniest fantasies, never came back to see us. Neither could we understand how could he go away to the sea without a word or even a goodbye glance to us. Sometimes, we wonder whether our so rude attempts to dry out his semen using old bed sheets have hurt him... We will never ever forgive ourselves for that.
Love for my son has been the most intense possible. I always slept embracing him, feeling an intense pleasure while rubbing puss-pussy against him. Telling the whole truth, I did it every morning, every night, incessantly, always keeping in mind the magic dawn when Gardel had visited us.
Ramón for watching my so lovely caresses, got extremely excited so leading us to a very peculiar kind of threesome.
Falkland's coldest nights have always their festive celebrations, but on that Saint John's night, June 24, all females in Stanley were quiet inside their homes, waiting for the moment when they would 'give birth' to whatever could get out from those eggshells.
When they finally broke all happened the way I was foreseeing. No monster was born -- half-man, half-penguin -- as religious people were prophesying.
At that midnight I gave birth through that huge eggshell to my first and single son: a soft, pretty, and lovely male penguin.
The following hours, all Stanley people saw their lives' saddest sunrise, no matter if males or females. Really it is till now not at all easy to understand how we have survived those events.
Whenever any of those eggs broke, a mother and a stepfather burst into a loud, screaming cry, supplicating them not to leave away.
But to no avail, our children did not pay attention to our pleas, and did not even take note of their stepfathers. They swam away by the hundreds, crossing the Blanco Bay. Hundreds of penguin-children, who had no human trace, but whom we love even more than if they had.
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