2 White Wives & 2 Black Men Ch. 05

"I don't know what the fuck you talkin' bout!" DeShawn responded, chuckling in confusion.

Jacquie tried to brush it off, sheepishly muttering, "I dunno, I think I read that in some campus mag... how bad it is that white people sexualize black bodies, or something like that. Maybe it's a dumb idea. I came across the concept years ago, and I've been feeling guilty about it."

DeShawn interrupted, "Ta-ta, ladies, your Uber's here. Hope y'all enjoyed the weekend. Now ya know what a real man is. Here's the deal: The minute you step through your front door, yo' man's gon' want that creampie. He gonna eat your nasty-ass pussy. He wanna freak you up; tap that ass like never before! But the problem is he don't satisfy you no more."

"Are you sure about that?" I interjected, skepticism evident in my voice.

DeShawn chortled, "That short pee pee he got? You don't want that small dick in ya. That's when I know I'll be hearin' your voice on my phone! Maybe you shoot me a text. Ain't no problem for me. I just love dominatin' these wimpy-ass white hubbies. Just the look on they face when I steal their girl right in front of 'em. Breaks their will and their spirit! Make 'em into sissy ass loser bois! Toodaloo now, off you go!"

Heading out, I wanted to express to DeShawn how much he meant to me, but I realized that what I was about to say would undermine our marriage and show you disrespect, hon. So, I stayed quiet and gave him one last warm and loving kiss, trying to hold onto the moment forever.

Jacquie and I probably looked like a pair of prostitutes to the balding Uber driver with a thick Eastern European accent driving us back to the hotel. Picture this: her in a teensy cutout minidress, and yours truly wearing only a Mickey Mouse T-shirt and nothing else. On the way back, Jacquie climbed into the front passenger seat of the Toyota Corolla and gave the Uber driver a blowjob. It felt like the perfect fitting end to a debauched weekend spiraling increasingly out of control. We finally reached the soaring tower of the Four Seasons Hotel, gathered our stuff, and Jacquie drove me home in her brand-new Lincoln Navigator, a gift from Brad to demonstrate his love and commitment ahead of the weekend. Pulling into our driveway, she turned to me, grinned, and asked, "Any regrets?"

I just sighed and smiled back, "Nope, no regrets."

Regrets barely scratched the surface of describing it. In one weekend, I had slept with 21 guys, most of them in the space of one night. I had had unprotected sex on every single one of these occasions and taken it in the ass during two of them. Several of these black men had cheated on their wives or girlfriends with me. I had tried drugs for the first time, smoked a cigarette, and drank more in one night than I ever had in my life! I'd even had a lesbian sexual encounter with my bestie. Adding this all up in my head was a shocking realization. They had treated me as a whore. Like a filthy little slut.

When we swung by the hotel room earlier, I'd quickly slipped back into the crisp blouse, sleek pencil skirt, and sheer pantyhose I'd been wearing on Friday. So when I reached our door, I made sure to maintain an air of innocence, like it had all been a dream. Indeed, except for the glow on my forehead, it might have looked like nothing out of the ordinary had taken place at all. Yet, the expression on your face betrayed your awareness of the truth.

PART 20: THE PREGNANCY TEST

In the heart of Oak Brook, our 4,500 sq. ft. home seemed a world away from my wild escapade. While hints of the original 1980s colonial house linger, our full gut remodel addressed many of those quirks. I love how our interior designer gave our home a cohesive Scandi-style--clean lines, minimalism, and functionality, all while embracing natural materials. There's plenty of white-on-white, with a few rooms painted in a moody dark color for contrast. Thankfully, we snagged the property pre-market madness! That move practically funded the construction of our glamorous new modern kitchen. But my true joy is the grand granite-topped island at the center of the kitchen--where we visit with friends and all the good times go down! It was there that Jacquie and I stood as she revealed a stack of pregnancy tests from her handbag. What on earth! Why had she bought so many extra pregnancy tests?

"When was the last time you had your period?" Jacquie asked challengingly. "We should both take a pregnancy test."

Jacquie headed into our powder room while I went upstairs to the en-suite bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom. I've never taken a pregnancy test in my life. I'm twenty-nine, but suddenly, I felt like a scared 18-year-old hiding out in a school locker room somewhere. My hands were shaking as I read the directions, which said to remove the cap and place the stick in a direct stream of my urine. My toes burrowed into the fuzzy lavender rug, my purple thong and Lululemon leggings slouched at my ankles. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and held onto the stick. I opened my eyes in dread as though a firecracker was about to go off in my hands. I looked at it--two blue lines. My body crumbled forward, and my hands touched the cold tile floor. The feeling of the cool tiles reminded me that I wasn't dreaming. I pulled up my panties and leggings in one tug and ran down the staircase and into the foyer, where I shoved the stick into Jacquie's hands.

"What does it mean?" I asked insistently. Deep down, I knew what it meant.

"You're pregnant," Jacquie announced, and she looked up at me.

"I'm what?! This is fucking crazy!" I blurted out, breaking the silence between us. "I'm well aware that birth control isn't 100% effective. But...still."

"This is so amazing!" Jacquie squealed in delight, holding up her own pregnancy test. "We get to go through pregnancy together! Just imagine -- our little ones becoming best buds!"

"Oh my God," I shuddered, "What if they have the same father? They'd be half-siblings!"

"Who do you want to be the father of our babies?" Jacquie asked. "You know, if I had to pick, I'd choose Tyreeq for his body, DeShawn for his brains, and Abdi for his face. I love his exotic look... but do you think maybe he looks too African? I've always wanted a mixed baby, but I really want my baby to look like me, too!"

"Your baby's only going to have one biological father!" I burst out in response to her wish list.

"Not if they're twins!" Jacquie reminded me, and suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by the idea of caring for two babies at once.

"It could be any of the black guys from the party! You weren't using protection either!" I exclaimed before gasping, "Oh god, I just hope my baby daddy isn't Cousin Willie!"

"I hope my baby daddy isn't Lavonte... eek!" Jacquie squeaked.

Permanent Change #5: Oh, my God, I'm knocked up!!!!!

This change has some major, life-altering consequences!! Although, we must remember it isn't necessarily a result of me being with the black guys. Let's keep our fingers crossed that they are NOT actually the reason for this unexpected pregnancy! My OBGYN told me some astonishing facts about getting pregnant. Get this - there's only a teeny-tiny sliver of time during the menstrual cycle when pregnancy is possible. Here's the trick: count 14 days from the first day of your cycle, and voila, that's when the egg cruises down the fallopian tube -- aka, ovulation. This golden opportunity for baby-making lasts only 12 to 48 hours! I've done the math more times than I can count, and my best estimate is that ovulation likely occurred on Sunday, possibly Saturday. Think back; you may recall we made love five times in a row when I first got home and more than once every single night after that. While the odds might seem like only a 1 in 22 chance that the baby is yours, those numbers might just tip in your favor, considering the amount of sperm you deposited in me in the days following my adventure. I feel optimistic our baby will have your blue eyes :)

Still, there is a reasonably high probability that our unplanned bundle of joy will look way different than anyone expects. Will you be able to watch my belly growing bigger, knowing it could be another man's baby inside me? Are you prepared for a healthy black baby to pop out of my tummy?! Do you realize our secret sex life will be exposed that instant? In a single second, everybody close to us will know (or, at the very least, suspect) that you're a cuckold. Personally, I'm just dreading the shocked look on everyone's face when they see it's a black baby! Everywhere we go, people will look at the two of us with a black child and wonder if I cheated on you. The reality is, we may be the subject of a few whispered conversations.

But abortion isn't for me. There's a life growing inside me! I cried when I first heard my baby's heartbeat at the ultrasound appointment. Despite not knowing the father, I've decided that I want to keep the baby. Think of it as natural selection. Whichever man put the most potent sperm in me wins. Was I conquered by these black men's semen? The way I see it, whoever had the fastest swimmers, the biggest load or the strongest seed will ultimately become the father of my child. Did your "little soldiers" score an unlikely triumph? I certainly hope so.

Not coincidentally, Jacquie and I share the exact same due date. Our babies are expected to arrive on October 10th, 2019.

You're probably also wondering if our marriage is still on solid ground. Guess what? DeShawn's little prediction totally failed! I didn't give him the satisfaction of contacting him after that first week apart. It was so cocky of him to predict that I'd be texting him in precisely eight days. In fact, I haven't responded to any of the black guys who've been blowing up my phone. I glance at the screen, laugh or smile at their messages, and then put it away. But something happened a few days ago. I caved and sent Laquan a quick update about my pregnancy. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry, I needed to tell someone, and I wasn't quite ready to let you in on the secret just yet. You're the love of my life, Greg!

But here's the thing--lately, I feel like I understand what it's like to be a man. Let me explain. Women know all too well about men and their roving eyes, craving for variety, and desire for multiple sex partners. We can't shake off the reality of how strong the temptation to cheat is for men, and it scares us. But, as it turns out, maybe women aren't that different from men once unshackled from society's expectations. I suddenly have a huge appetite for sexual novelty!! I'm constantly thinking about new sexual conquests!!! Just so you know, I've been on my best behavior for the past month and a half, but let's face it -- this good girl act won't stick around for much longer. I'm not the same person you tied the knot with, and our relationship will never be the same. I will always love you, but I can't restrict myself to just one man anymore.

On several occasions, you've pleaded with me to be honest and let you know exactly how you compare sexually to the black men from the weekend. The answer is... you rank #2 and #17. Lol! You're probably wondering why I ranked you using two different numbers. The #2 ranking is to boost your ego, and the #17 ranking is to drive you crazy, as I know it will, thinking of all the amazing sex I had that weekend!! Lol! The truth is, I can't rank you alongside them. It's a completely different experience when I'm with you. I feel comfort and connection when we're together in the bedroom. We have a sense of familiarity and know exactly how to turn each other on and get each other off. Maybe I'd rank you somewhere in the middle. In all honesty, at least half of these black guys were much better at sex than you. They had skills of seduction, sexual abilities, and physical gifts that placed them at the very top of any sexual hierarchy. I'm sorry, but you're not able to compete with that! Like anything in life, there'll always be someone better than you. So why let it burden you?

There's this wild thing that's been happening to me lately -- whenever I meet a black guy, my mind automatically jumps to sexual thoughts, whether he's a total heartthrob or not! A few days ago, a gas station attendant approached my car window. He was ugly and old, but just because there was an extremely dark African immigrant standing in such close proximity to me, a shudder went through my body, and I felt a buzzing, tingling sensation in my vagina, the kind of horniness that I usually only experience in private moments before sexual activity!! It was totally involuntary, I swear! It's almost like I have been reprogrammed! I find black men irresistible. Hon, you know I sometimes masturbate when you're not around, and I've noticed something--I never include white guys in my sexual fantasies anymore. It's kind of impossible not to get a preference for black guys. How could you not? I mean, I just like their smell! I like the feeling of being filled up. I wasn't always like this! My sexuality is drastically different now.

After this incredible weekend, I'll try to control myself, but having the option to fuck a hung black man is a non-negotiable must for me! Brace yourself for the ride ahead! You're clearly obsessed with me having sex with superior black men. Well, I have to admit something to you. I like the idea of watching you have sex with another woman! Haha...weird, right? Maybe someday I'll arrange a threesome so that you can have two girls at the same time!! Be honest, would you like that?! Haha, I know you would! (Just a warning, though, I'll set a few more "ground rules" than you did!!) Is that a fair exchange? Would it make up for all the heartache you went through while I was away?? Haha, who am I kidding?! You loved my dirty little weekend!! You wouldn't change a thing, would you? If I know you well, you've probably enjoyed hearing about my weekend almost as much as I enjoyed actually living it ;)

The End.

Love you,

Monica