Right now, my girl Kenya is having a baby, our baby, and I'm drowning myself in a bottle of Hennessy trying to pretend the shit is not happening. It's not that I don't care or that I am just a heartless son-of-a-bitch. It's just that working at this particular job has gotten me in more trouble as far as women go. And this baby is the last straw.
First it was Yesenia, the sexy Latina receptionist. Her accent use to fuck me up because it's so thick and I just wanted to hear her scream Papi! while I was beating those cheeks. Her pussy was good too - but she wanted to get married and that just couldn't happen. She eventually got married to the dude she'd been dating since high school and that got me off the hook with ease, though she can still throw an evil look a brotha's way.
Then it was Ms. Templeton, the Human Resources director. She's an older chick, but she still looks good and has some nice legs on her. She's so tall, I couldn't imagine her even looking at my ass. But one day, she summoned me to her office to discuss a change to my 401k contribution, and before I knew what was happening, I was in between them old legs. She had some nice titties for a woman in her early fifties and her pussy still had some snap to it too. But she was looking to get her groove back, and when I politely informed her that I was married and couldn't accompany her on a cruise to the Bahamas, she started tripping on me. I damn near had to sue her for sexual harassment when my paycheck started coming in short. We had it out one day after hours in the office, and I dicked her down one last time. Now we act like we don't know the other exists. It's childish, but when I tried to be nice, she couldn't handle it.
Lastly, there's Pam. Now that's a cool sista - she's been a good friend to a brotha. I didn't think much of her at first, just another woman in the office. Then one day HR sent us to a day-long conference to learn the a new, computerized payroll system. We thought it would be a bunch of us from the office, but it ended up being just the two of us. The conference was boring and the new system wasn't that new to us, and we ended up ditching after lunch and heading back to her place. I noticed she had a chess board and challenged her to a game. She couldn't play, so I offered to teach her, We spent the afternoon drinking and playing. Once she really understood the object of the game, she offered up a blunt and we continued to play. The mix of alcohol and herb had us open, and the next thing I knew, we were laying in her bed kissing. One thing led to another, and by that evening, we were friends with benefits. It's been that way ever since when it's convenient for the both of us. Pam doesn't like to be tied down to anyone, seeing as she is holding out for some brotha on the East Coast. With the Kenya situation, she's been real cool, formerly introducing us at first, and lending an ear throughout the matter. Now that I am in this predicament, she tells me to stay positive and support Kenya, but not to forget my commitment to my wife.
My wife. Yolanda, the love of my life since high school. I use to think there was no creature more beautiful than her. But after giving birth to our two boys, she packed on 75 extra pounds and had no intention of dropping it. After our second son was born, I wanted out of the relationship, but two things happened that made me stay. The first was Yolanda got a promotion at her job and the second was that she bought a big ass house for our family. I was kind of embarrassed that my woman was now the breadwinner, but realized it could make my life more plush since she was working longer hours. She asked me to marry her, and I hesitated because I know I still want out in the long run, but I knew it would make her feel more secure and guarantee a roof over my head. Besides, she had earned it, sticking with me through thick and thin, and giving me two sons. She puts up with so much of my shit, I was glad she still wanted to carry my last name. I know I can always count on Yolanda and for that, I never want to hurt her, but it seems inevitable since we haven't fucked consistently for years, and a brotha is gonna get his.
My wife. Yolanda, the love of my life since high school. I use to think there was no creature more beautiful than her. But after giving birth to our two boys, she packed on 75 extra pounds and had no intention of dropping it. After our second son was born, I wanted out of the relationship, but two things happened that made me stay. The first was Yolanda got a promotion at her job and the second was that she bought a big ass house for our family. I was kind of embarrassed that my woman was now the breadwinner, but realized it could make my life more plush since she was working longer hours. She asked me to marry her, and I hesitated because I know I still want out in the long run, but I knew it would make her feel more secure and guarantee a roof over my head. Besides, she had earned it, sticking with me through thick and thin, and giving me two sons. She puts up with so much of my shit, I was glad she still wanted to carry my last name. I know I can always count on Yolanda and for that, I never want to hurt her, but it seems inevitable since we haven't fucked consistently for years, and a brotha is gonna get his.
I'm gonna return Kenya's call at some point, but I'm still in shock this is happening. She says she loves me, and I can tell that she is type of woman that would go ballistic if I disappeared on her. She would probably call Yolanda which would really fuck things up cause as far as Kenya is concerned, Yolanda is just my live-in girlfriend. So far I've kept Yolanda in the dark about this whole situation. She threatened to leave and take my boys after my last affair so I've learned to be more discreet. I love my boys and I love her, and I know if she were to leave me, she'd be moving down to Florida with her parents and I would only get to see my boys a few times a year.
Sometimes I think about this baby that Kenya and I made and I hope that it's a girl. I remember the night we conceived it - it was the middle of summer and we were living together. Yolanda had taken the boys down to Florida for a few weeks so I was free to do what I wanted. I told Kenya I was going to get her pregnant after we had drank an entire bottle of honey wine. I said it as a joke at first, but the wine had me going. That night the sex was so good, we threw all caution to the wind and fucked without rubbers. I knew I shouldn't have cum inside of her, but it felt so good to feel her, I couldn't help myself.
I want to be there for her and the kid, but I don't trust her to not turn crazy on me. She tells me nobody has ever fucked her as well as I do, and good dick can make a woman go nuts. Trust me, I've seen it happen before. Our summertime shack-up gave her a sampling of what it would be like to have me round the clock, and in hindsight, I hate that she had that experience. She suggested we run off and get married and I let her daydream about it, but when I realized she was serious, I nipped that in the bud real quick. All I need is two sets of alimony payments.
I do love her though, in my own way, and I want my kid to know it's daddy. It's frustrating trying to figure out the right thing to do, and the more I drink this Hennessy, the more confused I get.
I'm so tired of thinking about what Kenya wants and what Yolanda wants - it's time I put Nasir first. I'm always at the beck and call of some woman, whether I'm trying to get the pussy or trying to keep her from telling everybody I got the pussy that I have worn myself out. What I really want to do is start over fresh, somewhere other than in LA. Somewhere other than California for that matter. Somewhere where nobody has any back information on Nasir Armstrong. I want to go back to school and get a graduate degree, and this new baby might be the push I need to really get that going. I know this whole situation is going to come to a head eventually and I want to be sure my exit strategy is in place by then.
I think I'll call Pam and see what she's up to for tonight.
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