So You Call Yourself a Man

by Carl Weber

“Hey, look over there.” I wrapped my arm around her and pointed to our hotel.

  “Lawwd have mercy, is that our hotel?” She started shaking and waving her hands in the air like she’d just been struck by the Holy Ghost. I had to admit I was pretty impressed myself. We were staying at the Atlantis Casino Resort on Paradise Island. The hotel was just as inviting as the brochures had said it would be. It was truly a sight to behold.

  Once we got out of the limo, we spent about a half-hour in the lobby, admiring what could only be called an aquarium. Whoever designed the place and came up with the name Atlantis hit the nail right on the head.

  We followed the bellman to our room. After I tipped him for bringing up our suitcases, to Alison’s surprise, I picked her up in my arms and carried her 250-pound frame over the threshold. Now, I’m not saying it was easy, and I almost dropped her, but I’d been lifting weights at the gym in preparation for this moment. I wanted to make our honeymoon special for her, and I think I was on my way to a good start. Of course, I couldn’t wait to put her down once we got in the room, and I’m sure I pulled a muscle slightly in my back, but the look of pleasure on her face was worth any amount of pain I might have received.

  “Oooh, Brent. You’re something else.” She threw her arms around me and gave me a deep kiss as she pulled me on the bed. “I love you, Mr. Williams. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, Mrs. Williams,” I murmured between kisses.

  Alison tried to take off my shirt. I was sure she wanted to make love, but I resisted. I wanted to build things up before we made love. I wanted our lovemaking to cap off the most wonderful day of our lives.

  “How about we go take a walk on the beach?” I suggested.

  “Oooh, Brent, that sounds so romantic.” Alison squealed.

  “Good, then come on. Let’s unpack these bags and get our bathing suits on.”

  Alison smiled her agreement, but then a reluctant, self-conscious look came over her face. “You know what? I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Why don’t we just stay in the room?”

  “Stay in the room? Alison, I know you wanna make love, but we’ve got all night to do that. We’re on a tropical island, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna walk along the warm beach with the sun on your back and a Bahama Mama in your hand?”

  “Not if I gotta wear a bathing suit, I don’t.” She sat on the bed, pouting. “Did you see how skinny those women were, standing by the pool?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “I don’t look like them in a bathing suit, all right? I’m not going to go out there and embarrass you, Brent.”

  “Embarrass me how? I don’t want those women. I just want you. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Alison, and you’re beautiful to me. Why do you think I married you? Now, go on and get in your bathing suit. I’m going to get my trunks so I can take a walk with the prettiest woman on the island, my wife, Mrs. Alison Williams.”

  Looking a little less tense, Alison went into the bathroom. She came out sporting a black-and-white sarong wrapped over a one-piece black bathing suit, and I swear she looked twenty pounds slimmer. She had a white-and-black scarf wrapped around her hair, which gave her a sassy look.

  “Mmm, mmm, mmm, now what were you worried about? ’Cause those girls by the pool ain’t got nothin’ on you.” I walked over and kissed her.

  The beach was crowded with women wearing what looked like G-strings more than bikinis. Some were even sunbathing with their tops off, but I didn’t pay them no mind. I was very happy with who I was with. Although some of them were with their men, the majority of the women seemed to be like the sister in Terry McMillan’s How Stella Got Her Groove Back. They were there with their girlfriends, and they were on the prowl. A few of them even tried to holler at me when I went to get Alison and myself some drinks from the beachside bar, but I made it very clear that I was with my wife and that they didn’t have nothin’ for me that she didn’t have more of.

  With drinks in hand, Alison and I strolled along the beach. At first she seemed a little self-conscious, but as we continued to walk, I held her hand and she became more comfortable. I’m not going to lie, there were more than a few people staring at us, especially the sistahs, but whenever they stared, I just pulled her in closer.

  “Brent, I know we never put a time on it, but I wanna have a baby right away.”

  “Sounds like you been talking to First Lady Wilson again.”

  “We’ve had a few conversations. But that’s not why I wanna have a baby right away. I love you, Brent, and I just want a piece of you inside.”

  I smiled. “I love you too, Alison, and I can’t wait to have a child with you.”

  “Good, because I didn’t bring any kind of protection.” We both laughed. “I wanna have a house full of babies for you. Four, maybe even five kids.”

  “Wow, are you sure? That’s a lot of wear and tear on your body.”

  She let go of my hand and wrapped her arm around my waist. “I don’t care what it does to my body. I just wanna make you happy and be the mother of your children. You know, sometimes it’s hard to believe you’ve never had children before.”

  I stopped walking and turned to my wife, wrapping my arms around her. “I’ve always loved children, Alison. I just never met a woman I wanted to have them with until I met you.” I kissed her gently and she smiled.

  “Brent, I love you so much. Do you know that?”

  “Yes, I do, but make sure you show me how much you love me later tonight.”

  “You ain’t said nothin’ but a word. Everyone on this island’s gonna know my name when I get finished with you tonight.” Alison squeezed my butt, then kissed me passionately. When I opened my eyes from our kiss, there were two black women in their twenties staring at us like we were in a freak show. I was about to say something to them, but Alison beat me to it.

  “What y’all looking at? You ain’t never seen a woman kiss her man and squeeze his butt?” The women didn’t say anything to us, but Alison’s words snapped them out of their trance.

  “What I wanna know is how much she’s paying him,” one of the women whispered under her breath to her friend, who laughed. She forgot water carries sound well, and we heard every word.

  “What!” Alison shouted. I’d never seen her react to anything so aggressively. “I know you ain’t accusing me of buying my man. You know what? Y’all gonna make me forget I’m saved out here.” Alison kicked off her sandals, then snatched off her earrings as she headed toward them. I grabbed her arm and both girls took off back the way they came. “That’s right, he’s fine, ain’t he? And he’s all mine! All two hundred and seventy pounds of me.” She struggled to get free. “Let me go, Brent. Let me go!”

  “No, sweetheart, forget them,” I pleaded. It took a while, but she finally calmed down. “You all right, baby?”

  “Yeah, I’m all right, but I’m not gonna let these skinny B-I-T-C-Hs ruin my honeymoon anymore. I’m sorry if they can’t find a good man, but God blessed me and answered my prayers when He sent you to me, and I’m not going to be ashamed of that blessing anymore.”

  “Well, all right. Praise the Lord,” I told her as we held hands and walked back toward the hotel. From that moment on, Alison’s whole demeanor changed, and she was no longer happy to be with me, she was with me, and God help anyone who might get in her way.

  She was so happy, all she did was chat about our future family. She’d already picked out biblical names for our children: Michael, John, Mary, Moses, Peter, and Eve. We’d raise them in the church, and not only would they be good Christians, but they’d also be good people like their mother and father.

  We ended up eating dinner at a small hotel café on the beach. Don’t ask me how many Bahama Mamas I had, but they snuck up on me. By the time the sun went down and the hotel lights came on, I was officially drunk. I think Alison was too because she pulled her chair up close to mine and started nibbling on my ear in public. It was quite obvious to anyone who walked by exactly what she
had on her mind.

  “Baby, can we go back to the room? I’ve got an itch that needs to be scratched and I need to use your scratcher.” She guided my hand along her smooth, thick thigh, probably hoping that it would find its way between her legs.

  “Sounds like somebody I know is ready to start working on that baby,” I teased.

  Alison couldn’t contain her grin as she whispered, “Mmm-hmm, and if we don’t get it right the first time, we’ll keep trying until we do.”

  I finished off what was left in my glass, then led my bride back to our room to consummate our marriage. We kissed and touched the entire way. If we hadn’t been in a hotel, I’m sure there would have been a trail of clothes leading to our room. Once inside, Alison slipped into the bathroom to change into something a little more comfortable while I slipped out of my bathing suit and fell backward onto the bed.

  As I waited for her to come out, I realized there was one major problem. I was a lot drunker than I wanted to admit, and as a consequence, my penis was limp as a wet noodle. I’d been like this before when I was drunk, and I’d always ended up getting embarrassed. The one thing sisters did not wanna hear was that you couldn’t get it up for them even if you were drunk. They always made it seem like not being able to make a man hard was as bad as losing a breast or having a hysterectomy. It made them feel like they were less than a woman, like they weren’t sexy anymore. Matter of fact, I pissed this one sister off so bad I honestly think the experience was the reason she turned gay. The last thing I wanted to do on my honeymoon was kill my new wife’s already fragile self-esteem.

  At first I thought maybe I’d pretend I’d passed out from the alcohol, but I decided against it because it wasn’t fair to Alison, who deserved a night of pleasure. Then I remembered something James used to say when we were in college. “When in doubt, eat her out.” So, that’s what I was going to do. I was going to give Alison more oral pleasure than she’d know what to do with.

  A half-hour later, Alison was squirming around on her back, enjoying the aftereffects of her second orgasm. She was huffing and puffing like she’d just run a marathon and when I lifted my head, she begged me to put it inside. I gave her a drunken smile and shook my head.

  “I’m not ready for that yet,” I told her, lowering my head. I had a special technique when it came to oral sex, a technique that had every woman I’d ever slept with willing to put aside our differences and jump into my bed on a moment’s notice. You see, unlike most guys, I knew how to find a woman’s clitoris. I also knew how to take my time getting to it. Soft, moist kisses around her inner thighs were always welcomed, in addition to slow, wet licks around her lips. Then and only then do you go for her clit, and when you do, you suck on it like a nipple. At the same time, you enter her with your finger, curling it upward until you find her G-spot. Using the same rhythm as your tongue, you go to work until she or her orgasm stops you.

  “Oh, God, Brent baby, please, please, I can’t take no more.” Alison grabbed my head and almost gave me whiplash, she pushed me back so hard. I gave her about three seconds to rest, then tried to lower my head again. She stopped me by covering up her stuff with both hands. “No more, I can’t take no more,” she pleaded.

  “Can’t take it, or you’re just too tired?”

  “Both!”

  I pretended as if I was trying to get at her again and she squeezed her legs. “Well, let’s take a break, then.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m just here to please you. When you get yours, I feel like I got mine. Besides, I’ll wake you up later.”

  “You sure? I thought you wanted to try and have a baby tonight?”

  “We will. The night’s still young and baby, you’re tired. Get some rest and we’ll pick up where we left off in a couple of hours.” I kissed her, then turned her on her side so I could wrap my arm around her as she slept. Couple hours, my behind, I thought. After coming three times like she just did, I wasn’t going to have to worry about her until morning.

  Alison was snoring in less than ten minutes, but I, on the other hand was wide awake. For some reason I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept drifting back to the night before my wedding. I still couldn’t get the sweet taste of Jackie’s kiss off my lips. I loved my wife, but that Jackie did things to me that I couldn’t even begin to explain.

  “Brent, honey, are you okay?” Alison’s words snapped me out of my drunken daydream, but I hesitated, asking myself a few questions before I answered hers. Why was she asking me if I was okay? Did she know I was thinking about Jackie? And if she did know, how the hell did she figure it out? Was I that obvious?

  “Yeah, I’m okay, why?” I finally replied.

  “Because you keep rubbing your stuff up against me. It’s kind of hard to sleep when your man’s rubbing his hard penis up against your butt.”

  Hard penis, I thought, adjusting my hips. Alison was right. My dick was rock-hard and I owed it all to Jackie. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even realize I was doing that.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t know why you just didn’t put it in before. I know you needed some release.” She rolled completely on her stomach, then reached for my manhood, grasping it gently. “Oh, my…I didn’t know it was like that. Why don’t you put it in? I think we’ll both sleep better after we consummate our marriage.” I moved on top of Alison, wondering what she’d do if she knew the real reason why my stuff was so hard.

  15

  Sonny

  I’d been up since six o’clock in the morning, cleaning the house I’d rented for my family. I’d gotten lost a few times trying to find it again the morning after I’d been following Tiffany and spotted it. When I finally found the house, I copied the number from the sign and called it from my cell phone. The guy on the other end was real cool. His name was Bernie, and he came right down to the house from his office to show me the place. I was impressed. The house had three bedrooms and two baths, plus it had recently been fully renovated and painted. I knew my wife would love it because she had always said she wanted an updated kitchen, and my kids, well, they were going to lose their minds when they found out their new home had a swing set. So, after a short negotiation, Bernie and I agreed on a lease-purchase deal.

  I’d been staying with my brother while I was in New York, but once we signed the papers and I gave Bernie a check, I started to sleep in the house on a blow-up mattress. I wanted to get the place ready. I only had a week or so before I had to start my new job. Now all I had to do was get on a plane back to Seattle, rent a truck, and pack up my family so we could make the long drive back to New York. I know it all sounds overwhelming, but I was excited. Things were finally starting to go my way.

  There was a knock on the door, then a familiar male voice yelled, “Anybody home?”

  “Yeah, come on in. I’m in the family room,” I shouted.

  I could hear the screen door shut, then James walked in, followed by a little boy who looked to be about the same age as my three-year-old daughter, Kerri. James was supposed to take me to the airport, but I wasn’t expecting the little boy, and he kind of caught me off guard. He must have been that girl Michelle’s kid, but why the heck was he with James?

  “Nice place you got here, Sonny.” James grinned, nodding his approval as he offered me his hand. I took it, pulling him in close.

  “Thanks, bro. I just hope Jessica likes it.” I let go of his hand and we both turned our attention to the little boy standing next to him.

  “So, who’s this little man?”

  James placed his hand on the boy’s shoulders, giving me the we’ll talk later look as he introduced us.

  “This is Marcus. Marcus, this is Mr. Harrison. You can call him Uncle Sonny.”

  “Hey, Marcus. How you doing, man?” I stuck out my hand and he slapped it hard. “I’m good. Are you really my uncle?”

  I chuckled, not knowing how to answer him. “Well…you see…”

  “Yeah, he’s your real uncle,” Ja
mes cut in. “Hey, why don’t you go out and play on that swing set while Uncle Sonny and I talk?” James pointed to the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, and Marcus took off.

  “So, now you’re claiming him, huh?”

  James gave me a fuck you look as he walked toward the sliding glass door, which Marcus had left open.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I chastised. “You’re the one who wants him to call me Uncle Sonny, so you must be claiming him. I don’t blame you, though. He does look like you.”

  “I ain’t claiming nobody.” James closed the door, staring at the boy as he went down the slide. He turned to me. “And he don’t look like me…does he?” It almost sounded as if he was pleading with me to agree with him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, so I gave him a vanilla answer.

  “A little, but hell, you could say he looks like me too.”

  “Better you than me,” he mumbled. I walked over and put my hand on my friend’s shoulder. The way he watched that little boy reminded me of the sparkle he had in his eyes as we watched his and Cathy’s sons play Little League in the park last weekend. That sparkle told me how much he really cared. He opened the sliding glass door and shouted, “Marcus, don’t swing so high. You might fall and hurt yourself.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” the boy yelled back, and he smiled.

  “Daddy? You’re letting him call you Daddy already?”

  James’s smile disappeared. “What else is he going to call me?”

  “How ’bout James? You’re starting to get attached to him, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I am. He’s a good kid, Sonny.”

  “How ’bout finding out if he’s yours first? Or is there something you haven’t told me?”

  “Look, Sonny, I wish I knew whether he’s really mine or not, but I don’t. The problem is, Marcus never asked for this shit. He’s the real victim in all this, not me. All he wants is a man in his life. So, until I find out the truth, he’s my son.”

  “That all sounds good. And I’ll be sure to vote for you if you run for daddy of the year, but you need to get yourself a paternity test.” I couldn’t believe he hadn’t gotten one already. Letting this kid call him Daddy. He must have been outta his mind.