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“Bilionnnn,” I heard my wife moan in her sleep.
She was lying on her side of the bed, wrapped in her throw blanket, and was resting on her side. I would walk out to drop Khari off, but that moaning shit had turned a nigga the fuck on. I spooned her from behind, putting one hand under her shirt, and I felt around on her big stomach. I placed soft kisses on her neck, and it wasn’t long before she stirred, waking up out of her sleep. With my other hand, I rubbed her scalp.
“Daddy was putting in work in yo’ dreams, ain’t it?” I asked her, and she let out a low laugh.
“Billionaire, you take up all the space in my head. I even dream about you,” she said in a sleepy voice.
“What the fuck was I doing to you? I recorded you, shorty. You was moaning up in this bitch, and I almost got jealous until you called my name out. Tell me what I was doing,” I groaned in her ear, already trying to remove the little shorts she was wearing.
I swear, I was obsessed with my wife. I just had to be all up on her every hour of the fuckin’ day. Her soft hand reached back, and she held onto my dick, which was good and hard in my sweatpants. She stuck her hand inside my briefs and cuffed my dick.
“You were doing me in the kitchen. It felt so real, baby,” she told me.
I got the shorts off and tossed them behind me. I kept Normani on her side and got my dick out of the sweats. In two seconds, I slipped inside that hot, wet, tight shit. I couldn’t believe her pussy could get this damn wet. I bit down hard on my bottom lip as I long stroked her pussy from the side. She moaned with each thrust I gave her and tooted her ass back my way.
“I was in it like this?” I groaned in her ear, but she shook her head.
“Baby… you were deeperrrrr,” she cried out.
I was trying not to hurt her little ass, but if my baby said I was deeper, then it was only right that I gave her deeper. I picked up her right leg and held it up in the air, then I dug in that motha fucka. When her moan got stuck in her throat, and she stopped fuckin’ back, meeting me stroke for stroke, I knew that I had found the spot she was telling me about.
“Like that, bae?” I asked and then bit her lip.
“Yessssssss… Baby, I love you… I love youuuu,” she cried.
When she started that I love you shit, I knew she was about to bust, and so was I. This pussy just got a nigga every fuckin’ time, man. Four strokes later, and I dumped nut in her like I hadn’t just done this two hours ago before she fell asleep for her nap. Fuckin’ just had her sleeping for two hours straight, and I did the same thing to her all over again.
Once I finished with her, I lowered her leg, kissed her on her neck, and got out of bed. My dick was glistening with her juices as I walked to the bathroom to clean myself up. I stayed in there for about five minutes, and when I walked back into the bedroom, Normani was sitting up in only her V-neck shirt. Her big stomach was resting in her lap, and she looked so fuckin’ beautiful, man. I kissed her lips, and then I grabbed my shit off the dresser, so I could dip.
“What you want me to bring you home for dinner? I know yo’ greedy ass want something,” I said, and she laughed.
“Just call me when you leave. What I want now can change in thirty minutes. Let me wash up right quick, so I can tell Khari goodbye,” she told me.
While she did that, I walked out of the room, so I could get Khari. I found her in her room, playing with some of her baby dolls.
“You ready?” I asked.
She eagerly nodded her head up and down then rushed over to me. I lifted her in my arms. Because two babies were about to be brought into this world, one from her mother and the other one from Normani, Khari was suddenly acting like the baby again. It was cool, though, because I wanted her to stay my little girl forever. She would eventually get to an age where she wouldn’t want me loving up on her because she would think that she was too grown for a nigga.
We made it downstairs, and Normani eventually came down to tell Khari bye. We got in the car, and the whole ride, my daughter talked my ear off about how excited she was to start the first grade in the fall. It took us a good twenty minutes to get to Denim’s house, and I swear, in those twenty minutes, Khari ran her mouth nonstop.
Denim was still living with her mom, although she had the money to get her own spot. She talked so much shit, so she probably would never admit that she was scared to move out and be on her own because of what happened to her when her bitch ass baby daddy pistol whipped her. Personally, I thought it was better that she stayed there for a while. She was about to have three children, and she could use the help. Her mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway; it was just Denim’s car that I saw.
I helped Khari out of her booster seat, and once out, she took off running for the front door. I carried some of the toys that she brought wi
th her, and by the time I got to the front door, it was already open. Denim was up, pacing the floor, and by the way she was in there groaning, I could tell she was in pain. Her stomach was huge, looking like she looked when she was pregnant with Khari. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and from how red her nose was, I could tell she had been crying. When she leaned over and held onto the back of the couch in the living room, then let out a painful scream, I knew then she had to have been contracting.
“Where yo’ mama at, Denim?” I asked once I walked into the room.
Yeah, as fucked up as Denim be having me, as much as she and I didn’t see eye to eye majority of the time, I couldn’t just dip out on her while she was obviously in a good amount of pain.
“She… sheee… she’s coming from the store with Rylo. Shittttt!” she screeched and then fell on the couch, crying out in pain.
Khari had gotten scared and was crying to her mama, asking her if she was okay.
“Can you take me to the hospital? We’re closer than she is. These contractions are coming too strong. I can’t wait for her, and I don’t want to have this baby right here in the living room,” Denim said, looking up at me with pleading eyes.
“Where yo’ bag and shit at?” I asked.
