by Lucinda John
Chapter 21
Lucas
I was disappointed when Debra came and picked me up instead of Aimee. I was happy that she dropped the charges against me and I was looking forward to seeing her. Not wanting to be near the jail house any longer, I jogged towards Carol’s Benz that I purchased, and got in.
“Where is Aimee?” I asked.
“Hello to you too,” she smirked.
“Sorry, hi Ms. Carol. Where is Aimee? I thought she was coming to pick me up,” I replied.
“Poor Aimee has been in bed sick all day. I came by to bring her soup and she looks a mess. I told her I would come pick you up instead, plus, I wanted to talk to you,” she said.
“What’s wrong with Aimee? Is my baby ok?” I began to panic.
“She just has a bad cold, nothing too serious,” she assured me.
“Cool. Now what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked.
“Aimee.”
“What about her?”
“I need you to ease up on her a bit. She is pregnant and fragile. She is not built as strong as me and your mother are. We could take a beating and fix ourselves up like nothing happened, Aimee cannot. Try keeping your hands to yourself,” she said, sounding pathetic.
“How I handle my wife is none of your business,” I snarled.
“Next time you beat my daughter and put her in the hospital again, is the day I put an end to all of this.”
“And risk you living a lavish lifestyle? Get the fuck out of here! Like I said, stay the fuck out of my business. My marriage is none of your concern. Last I checked, your husband is dead, so you are in no position to be giving relationship advice,” I snapped.
Instead of replying, she focused on the road. I knew part of the reason that Debra wanted to make sure Aimee and I stayed together was for her security. Who else would want their daughter with a man that she knew was abusing her. I understood she grew up in an abusive situation, and she was abused herself, but in a sick twisted way, I would have respected her more if she encouraged her daughter to leave me. The fact that she wanted me to stay with her daughter proved to me that she was nothing but a money hungry, insensitive, dumb bitch.
“You’re free to leave, I got it from here,” I said when we made it home.
She looked as if she wanted to object, but she decided against it. Slamming her car door shut, I waited as she drove off, before walking to my house. The sight of my lawn made me cringe. My fist started twitching as I imagined what the inside of my house looked like. Sick or not, if my house looked a mess, Aimee would have to get out of bed and clean it up.
When I walked in the house, the strong aroma of food filled my nostrils, causing my stomach to growl. Following my nose, I ended up in the kitchen where a very exhausted Aimee laid with her head resting against the granite counter. I could tell she wasn’t feel well by the stuffiness of her snores.
“Baby, wake up,” I said, softly shaking her awake.
“Huh?” she jumped up with fear all over her face.
The fact that my wife was afraid of me broke my heart. I wanted to get us back to the living place we were once in. I didn’t want my wife to jump out of her skin every time she was around me. I wanted her to submit, respect my wishes and love me unconditionally.
Lifting her up, I carried her to our room and laid her on the bed. There wasn’t much I could give her because she was pregnant, so I rubbed her chest with Vicks. I went downstairs and made her Campbell’s chicken noodle soup with saltines crackers, tea, and poured her a cup of orange juice. When I brought everything to her, she was cuddled with my pillow, sleeping. Placing everything on the counter, I walked out of the room to take a much needed shower.
Enjoying the feeling of the hot water making contact with my skin, I thought about my new baby that would enter the world. I thought of how it was for Jordan and I, growing up in our household, and like a ton of bricks, it hit me. I didn’t want my child to grow up like we did. I didn’t want my child to witness Aimee with a black eye and busted lip. I made a promise to myself that I would take my session more seriously and really work on my anger issues. I just prayed Aimee didn’t do anything to tick me off while I was still in the work in progress stages.
Dressed in only a pair of dark blue Ralph Lauren joggers, I made my way downstairs to enjoy a home cooked meal. The roast beef, red potatoes, and garlic knots felt like heaven, with every bite I stuffed my face with. It’s been a minute since I had some of Aimee’s cooking, and I had to give it to her because she really out did herself. After my third plate of food, I sat down to a bowl filled with banana pudding. Instead of waking Aimee to clean up the mess, I did it myself. I checked in on a few business proposals that I had my partner working on for me in my absence. Satisfied with everything, I went to sleep with Aimee, with the thought of change on my mind.
The next morning, I woke up to Aimee’s beautiful eyes staring at me. Rolling over, I pulled her close to me, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her expression was blank, making it hard for me to read her thoughts. When our stare off became too intense, I flipped her over, careful not to place all of my weight on her. Slipping my hand underneath her silk robe, I found what I was looking for and began stroking it.
“Mmm… Ahhhh. Ohhhh,” she moaned as I played with her swollen pearl.
She was so wet that I was having a hard time twirling it between my fingers. When I grew tired of playing peek-a-boo with her clit, I slipped my head underneath the blankets and attached my mouth to it. She planted her feet on the bed and tried to push back, causing me to pull her close to me by her legs. Pushing them back until both her legs were open wide and touching the bed, I ate her as if she would be the only food I would consume for the day.
“Oh daddy!” she cried out.
“Mmmm, this pussy is always so good,” I groaned before resuming to the pussy eating contest I was holding against myself. The objective was for me to eat her pussy better than I ever did since we started fucking.
“Oh Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd, yassssss!” she cried out as her wetness started to shoot all over the place like an untied water hose.
The sight of my wife’s pussy out in the open, made my dick jump. I loved that she is a dancer, making her flexible to my liking. There were numerous positions that I was able to do with her because she was double jointed. Mounting her, I smacked my dick against her clit, until she started to beg for me to put it in. Gliding my dick against her wetness, I shoved it in and was at a loss for words.
“Oh shit!” she screamed out, but I was still mute.
The way her pussy sucked me in and held me tight had me at a loss for words. Her pussy was extra tight, wet, and warm, making me foam at the mouth with every stroke. I was mesmerized by what she had between her legs, reminding me why it would be a cold day in hell before I ever let her go. This ‘till death do us apart’ pussy was no joke. I was ready to body her ass just to ensure that no one would ever get a sample of this good shit.
“Damn, this pussy so good,” I growled. Drool leaked from the corner of my lips and on to the bed.
“Shit girl, damn!” I howled, feeling her pussy muscles contract around my dick.
“I’m cumming daddy,” she cried out.
“Oh shit, I’m right behind you,” I groaned, filling her up.
Exhaustion took over me as I laid on my back with my hands behind my head, attempting to catch my breath. Before I could regulate my breathing, Aimee had my dick in her mouth, sucking the soul out of me. I gripped the headboard tightly as Aimee reminded me why I jumped and married her ass.
“Oh fuck!” I called out as I came again, this time down her throat.
Showing me my seeds, Aimee swallowed it, causing my dick to twitch. I loved when she switched it up and turned porn star freaky. Before I could close my eyes and drift off to sleep, I felt a warm rag against my shaft. After cleaning me up, Aimee placed a kiss on the tip of my dick and was about to get out of bed, until I grabbed her.
“Whe
re are you going?” I asked.
“To make us breakfast,” she smiled.
“Take a nap with me first, you got a nigga tired,” I gave her a lazy smile.
“Ok,” she smiled, pressing her firm back side against my front.
****
“We need to talk,” I said to Aimee as I watched her bake me some cookies. Although she was the one pregnant with my child, I went through all the motions. I was tired all the time, and I ate like I was eating for a village.
“I’m listening,” she said, removing a fresh batch of cookies from the oven.
“In order to make all of this work, we need to start over,” I said.
“Start over?” she asked.
“Yes. You, me and the baby, a fresh start,” I said, getting on one knee.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” she screamed as I removed a ring from my back pocket.
“I’m making things right. I replacing this old ring that came with so many bad memories and scars, and replacing it with this new one that will signify all the happy memories I plan on making with you from here on out,” I said, causing tears to fall from her eyes.
“Will you remarry me, ma?” I asked.
“Yes,” she cried, kneeling down in front of me.
Her tears ran down my back, as I held her in my arms while she cried. Aimee deserved all of this and more. For the sake of our baby, I had to work on myself in order to be a better me.
“It’s going to be ok baby,” I assured her.
Chapter 22
Aimee
(One year later)
“Ok Aimesha, mommy is coming,” I said, shaking a bottle in my hand.
Picking up my crying daughter out of her crib, I grabbed a baby blanket and placed it over me, before feeding her the thick formula. Aimesha was a very greedy baby, so at three months, I was sprinkling baby cereal in her milk, just to hold her over until her next feeding. Once Aimesha was fed, burped and changed, she immediately went back to sleep. Placing a small kiss on her cheek, I laid her gently on her Minnie Mouse blanket and crept out of her room, with the baby monitor.
Lucas was due to get out of work in a few hours, leaving me with enough time to get dinner together and the house in order. Since Lucas and I decided to get remarried, things went back to the way they were when we first met. He hasn’t laid a hand on me since that day he put me in the hospital, and I couldn’t have been happier. The only bad thing about our new change is our location. Although, the house we lived in now was bigger and more beautiful than the one we lived in before.
Lucas felt us moving to Lantana, which was a one and a half hour drive from all of our friends and family, was a great move for us. He wanted us to raise our family without having any outsiders intruding. Every Saturday we would drive down to see everyone for a few hours before heading back home. As much as I wanted to complain about not seeing my mother and brother as much as I wanted to, I decided not to.
Things between Shanice and I became strange. I wouldn’t say we were still friends, nor were we enemies, but we stayed cordial because our men were brothers. Us in the same room together was sometimes so awkward that I had to excuse myself, just to get some air. I wanted to so badly rekindle our friendship, but with Lucas in the way, it was nearly impossible. My mother would always tell me about the sacrifices I had to make in order to keep a happy marriage; I was upset that giving up my best friend was one of them.
Once the house was nice and clean, I started on dinner. Lucas sent me a text stating that he had the taste for fried chicken, greens, mac and cheese, and bake beans, so I got started on everything. When I was done, I went upstairs to take a much needed shower to freshen up for my husband.
“Honey, I’m home,” Lucas sang from downstairs just as I slipped my maxi dress over my body. Spraying my body down with my Flowerbomb perfume, I checked on Aimesha, before going downstairs to greet my husband.
“Mmm, you smell so good,” he sniffed the crook of my neck, while he palmed my ass.
“Thank you baby,” I blushed. “Go wash up for dinner.” I kissed him on his lips before letting him go.
I walked in the kitchen and set the table for the two of us. I filled our plates with the food, placing two cups of Passion Fruit juice next to our plates. I grabbed a few flowers from the garden I was growing out back, and made a colorful center piece for the table.
“You’re not eating that,” Lucas said, taking a seat at the table.
“What is wrong with the food?” I asked.
“It’s filled with calories. You still haven’t lost the rest of your baby weight, so why add on more pounds?” he shrugged.
“I look good,” I rolled my eyes.
True enough, I did have ten pounds that didn’t want to go away, but that was because I wasn’t active. If Lucas was to ever allow me back into my dance studio, I was sure I could shed these pounds and get back into my dancing shape.
“No, you look fat,” he said, stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth.
“Well if you allowed me to return back to work, then I could tone up,” I suggested.
“You can run your dance studio from home. Your assistant will handle everything else in your absence. My daughter is not going to some daycare so you can work. My mother stayed home with me and my brother, and I expect you to do the same with our children,” he snapped.
“I worked so hard to open that studio, this is my dream,” I argued.
“No, I worked hard and opened your studio. All you did was come up with a few silly dance routines,” he waved me off.
“Is that what you think about my career? Silly?” I asked upset that he would say such a thing.
“Yes, it’s silly. Now get up and make yourself a green smoothie for dinner,” he said, removing my plate from in front of me.
Instead of arguing with him, I got up and did as I was told. I was doing a lot of that lately. I finally started taking my mother’s advice and started submitting to Lucas as a wife should. I no longer had a backbone, nor did I have a voice. If this was the small price that I had to pay for a happy marriage without any beatings and bruises, then so be it. Grabbing a few fruits and veggies from the refrigerator, I made myself a berry and spinach smoothie, and enjoyed it with a fruit salad.
Once dinner was done, I prepped for tomorrow’s dinner, made a few bottles for Meme, and cleaned up the kitchen. Lucas was in his office on his business phone, so I decided not to disturb him. Just as I was getting ready to settle in bed to catch up on some TV, I heard the beeping of Lucas’ cell phone. Ignoring it, I made myself comfortable and grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels until I decided on watching a fatal attraction movie on Lifetime.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lucas’ phone started to buzz out of control, causing me to grow suspicious. Reaching over to his side of the bed, I grabbed his phone off charger. I swiped my finger across the screen and keyed in MeMe’s birthday as the lock code, just as I saw him do out of the corner of my eyes many times. Tapping my finger on the message icon, I got the shock of my life. There was a video of a woman playing in her pussy, telling my husband that it was wet and ready for him. Scrolling through the entire message thread, I became sick as I came across numerous text messages and videos of them. He even sent her a few videos of him jacking his dick off in our bathroom.
I quickly exited out of the screen and placed the phone back where I found it. Tears pooled in my eyes as images of him bare backing some model look alike, played in my head. Compared to her, I was a fat pig. No wonder he was riding me about my weight. The girl was a tall, dark skinned beauty. Her hair flowed down her back, her stomach was flatter than a board and her ass sat up like a stallion. I was never insecure, I knew I had it going on, but seeing her had me second guessing myself. I stood in the mirror with my shirt raised above my chest, checking myself out.
“I’m glad you decided to see for yourself how much weight you gained,” Lucas said, coming close to me. “Everything on you is fine, but th
is,” he said, pinching my small pudge. “And these,” he pointed out my stretch marks. “All of that is a turn off,” he said, making me feel like shit.
“Lucas, are you cheating on me?” I asked.
“Come again.”
“Are you cheating on me?” I repeated myself, this time with a little more bass in my voice.
“No, why would you ask some stupid shit like that?” he said, wearing his guilt on his face.
“I’ve been cleared to have sex and we’ve had sex maybe twice since I gave birth. At one point in time, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, but now you can go weeks without sex,” I stated my concerns.
“Just because I’ve been pulling in overtime to make sure you and my daughter have the best of everything, you’re accusing me of cheating on you?” he asked, trying to flip the script.
“Just say it! Tell me the truth!” I yelled.
“Lower your voice, have you lost your fucking mind? Wake my daughter up if you want to,” he clenched his teeth.
Instead of shutting up and minding my business, the woman in me wanted to know. Regardless of how submissive I was supposed to be to him, cheating wasn’t a part of the package. He was raw dogging hoes and I had every right to have all my questions answered. My life could be in danger due to some disease that he could have contracted from the slut.
“I saw it all,” I cried. “I saw all the text messages, the pictures, and videos! How could you do this to me?” I sobbed.
“You’ve been going through my phone?” he said, giving me an evil glare. He walked over to his phone and looked at it for confirmation. Once he saw I had read all of his unread texts, he went crazy.