Carl Weber - Baby Momma Drama

“I don’t have much, but they need lots of attention,” she said as she displayed her bare breasts.

I nodded as I sat back to enjoy the rest of her show. She slid her black stretch pants and her panties down to the floor. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her perfectly rounded hips. I glanced at her stomach and thighs. Incredibly, not one stretch mark on this woman who just had a baby.

It was my turn. I pulled my sweater over my head and flexed my biceps nonchalantly.

“Damn, look at you! You are one big boy. Where did you get this body?” She approached me and slowly slid her hands along my chest. “You’re built like a brick shithouse.” She grinned.

I didn’t reply; I just flexed again. My smooth chocolate-brown complexion and tall, muscular body had always been admired by the opposite sex. I stood up and she unhooked my pants, letting them slide to the floor. Then, with a smile she looked down. My heart almost stopped beating when she started to laugh.

“Damn, I guess we both planned on getting some tonight, huh?”

I finally looked down and blushed. I’d completely forgotten I was wearing my red G-string underwear. I felt like a fool, but at least she wasn’t laughing at the size of my dick.

“To be honest, I need to do laundry. These are my only clean drawers,” I told her, and it was the truth.

“At least you have somethin’ sexy to wear. When that happens to me, I gotta wear my old granny briefs.”

We both laughed as I slipped out of my G-string.

“Where you from? I know you’re not from Richmond. You sound too country.”

“Georgia.”

“So you one of those big-ass corn-fed niggas, huh?” I didn’t even answer her. I hated the word nigger.

“I got a cousin lives in Georgia. She’s from Atlanta. You from Atlanta, big man?” She was still rubbing her hands across my chest.

“Nab, I’m from Waycross.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“Well let’s put it this way: Waycross is way across

Georgia.”

She laughed then changed the subject. “What’s your favorite position, Travis?”

“Sixty-nine.”

She laughed hard. “You the first country nigga I ever met that admitted to eating pussy. I like your honesty.”

“Thanks. But if you ask me that question in public, I’m gonna lie.” We both laughed and I kissed her again.

“What about you? What’s your favorite position?”

“I like a sixty-nine,” she said, smiling. “But nothing beats a nice, long pony ride.”

“Pony ride? What’s a pony ride?”

She pushed me on the bed and straddled my legs. Ripping a condom open, she slid it onto me effortlessly. She took my penis into her soft hands and rubbed it against the warmth between her thighs.

“Dammmn! That feels so good,” I moaned. She slid all the way down on my manhood, letting out a soft moan when it was all the way in.

“A perfect fit,” she purred.

“Yeah, a perfect fit,” I moaned.

“Now that I’m saddled up, it’s time for a nice, long ride.”

Stephanie and I made love that night in every imaginable position. She was down for anything and everything, and I’m not embarrassed to say she taught me a thing or two. What she thought was going to be a one-night stand turned out to be an all-weekend thing. I hate to sound self-serving, but once I slept in her bed and she wrapped her arms around me, I got comfortable and I didn’t wanna leave.

She was serious about not wanting a man. Her daughter’s father had turned her off to the thought of relationships and love. At least, that’s what she told me. Somehow, despite what she said, I found my way over to her place every night and she never turned me away. She called it a sex thing, but Stephanie and I had a bona fide relationship going on. It was fine with me if she never wanted to admit it. A few of the local brothers I’d met living in her project tried to warn me about her reputation, but I didn’t really care. I knew she was a freak the first night I met her. But now she was my freak.

We played that little game for almost nine months. I guess after a while Stephanie started to realize what I already knew, that she wasn’t getting rid of me so easy. So that Thanksgiving, out of nowhere she invited me to her grandmother’s house for turkey dinner with all the trimmings. To my surprise, she introduced me to her grandmother as her boyfriend, and from that point on that’s who I was. Her boyfriend. Not that I’m complaining. It’s been a wonderful three years we’ve shared together, and with the baby coming in the next few weeks, I’d decided to make that couple of years a lifetime.

I smiled at Stephanie as she set the large pan of macaroni and cheese down on the table. She’d just finished helping Big Momma bring out the last few trays for this year’s Thanksgiving dinner, and sat down next to me. In the three years we’d been together she’d traded in her shoulder-length perm for long box braids, and her skintight clothes in for more conservative skirts, slacks, and blouses. Except, of course, when she went out to the club. But even with her new, conservative look she couldn’t hide the fact that she had a big ass. Matter of fact, ever since she got pregnant that ass seemed a little bigger. Not that I minded. Like most black men, I liked a big ass. As far as I was concerned, my girl had it goin’ on. Not just in the looks department, either. Her shit was together in all aspects of life. She was going to school to be a nurse, working at Wal-Mart to help pay the bills, was a great mother to her daughter. And she showed me all kinds of love. She was a great woman and I loved her for that. That’s why I wanted to make her my wife.

“Travis, would you mind blessin’ the food?” Big Momma set the steaming tray of greens down on the table and took her seat. A big, heavyset old woman, Big Momma was the head of Stephanie’s family and had an opinion about everyone and everything. She was the kind of woman you did not want on your bad side. And since Stephanie had gotten pregnant and we weren’t married, guess where I was. But that was about to change.

“Sure, Big Momma, I’ll bless the food.” I looked over at Stephanie’s Uncle Mark, who was staring at Big Momma. For as long as I’d known Stephanie, Mark had been blessing the Thanksgiving table. And from what she told me, he’d been doing it ever since his father died twenty years ago. So I know he wasn’t too pleased with Big Momma asking me to bless the food.

“Momma, why he gonna bless-”

Big Momma cut Mark off with a quickness.

“’Cause I said so. That’s why. Now, bow your heads, so we can give the Lord thanks.” Like everyone in this family, Mark obeyed Big Momma. He lowered his head so she couldn’t see his scowl. “Now, Travis, you bless the food. It’s Thanksgiving, and we hungry.”

I bowed my head and took a deep breath before beginning my prayer. I made it short, sweet, and to the point, and ended it with a chorus of amens. When I lifted my head I tried to smile at the fifteen adults and five children sitting at three tables reaching for food, but it was hard. I was about to make the most important speech of my life. I tapped my spoon against my glass to get everyone’s attention. They all turned toward me like I’d lost my mind. All except for Big Momma, who’d been expecting my announcement.

“I know y’all hungry, but before we eat I’d like to say something important.” I stood and ignored the grumbling among some of the hungrier people at the tables. “Unofficially, I’ve been a part of this family for three years. Y’all been more of a family to me than my own down in Georgia. So I wanted you all to be here when I did this.” I turned to Stephanie and took her hand. With my other hand I reached into my pocket and slowly knelt down on one knee.