George and Martha Pt. 02.5

My tummy was showing and my breasts were growing it seemed by the week. George would lay at night with his hand on my stomach, hoping the baby would move, a month later he felt it for the first time. He was so excited you'd have thought he struck gold. George was so sweet about sex. There were days I was just not myself and he didn't push or whine, he knew there were also days when I was so horny I couldn't seem to get enough cock no matter how much he gave me.

With my belly sticking out in front of me it was time to bring someone else in full time. The third set of interns were as good as the second set, an Hispanic guy and a chubby white girl. Her chubbiness didn't slow her at all, in fact I noticed as the quarter went by she'd lost weight. When I mentioned it she said the job kept her busy so she wasn't piecing all the time. A lot of bakers have a bad habit of licking every spoon or tasting every item. What they don't realize is those calories go somewhere, their hips, or stomach, or legs. She wisely hadn't fallen into that trap.

George, the girls and I talked it over coming to the conclusion we should hire the heavy set intern. When we asked her to go full time she broke down crying. This would be her first job, her folks told her nobody would want to hire a fat cow like her. I thought to myself, who are these idiots? How could you talk to your child like that? We assured her we wanted her to work for us, her wage would increase three dollars an hour to begin and we'd look at things when her 90 day evaluation occurred. The Hispanic guy was heading to Omaha to work in his mothers store.

I was at the stage that we had to make love with me on my side or my hands and knees. On a Friday night I had the overwhelming urge for George to take me from behind. I kept my nightie on and he slid it up over my hips. He kissed my bottom and ran his fingers down through my moss covered valley, the wetness enveloping his fingers. He put them to his mouth and sucked them, turning the dresser slightly so I could watch as he penetrated me. I wondered how many times I had watched his long pink pole slide in and out of the soft nest of dark curls surrounding the pinkness of my labia?

He slowly entered me, adding a little more with each stroke, deeper and deeper until he was touching my cervix. Making sure he didn't hurt me he short stroked it that night, both enjoying being with the other intimately, our bodies joined at the junction where two people become one flesh. I didn't cum hard, I shook and quivered, then felt my Puddin's cock swell as he shot more baby juice into my already pregnant uterus. I laid down on my side, uncomfortable. Nothing seemed to be okay, standing, sitting, laying, nothing took away the discomfort. At 3:31 George took me to the hospital, at 9:19am our daughter Shannon was born.

A beautiful light colored brown, she had her daddy's straighter hair, my blue eyes, definitely his nose and chin, she was long, just like her papa. As he looked at her he said, "she'll be a tall drink of water."

I had been fortunate to have a relatively short labor, the obstetrician saying some ladies have an easier time than others. Telling me not to be offended, she said I had a body for babies, that any other children will likely come as fast as this one had.

My milk came in right away, after I got past the pain of her latching on we did well together, the little tit hound and I. George was such a good daddy, he'd get up with her for her two o'clock feeding, bring her to me to nurse and then walk her to sleep as he burped her. He didn't mind changing diapers, calling himself an all purpose papa, besides, when you've been knee deep in cow shit after the barn cleaner breaks what's a poopy diaper.

The girls were over the moon excited about our little one. Georges folks came to see our Shannon, falling in love at first sight, they had never shown any hesitance toward George and I being together. He had been right, if he was happy, they would be happy. At three weeks I took her into the store, all the regulars drooled over her, figuratively speaking, wanting to hold her.

I could tell my Puddin was getting a bad case of blue balls. After nursing little miss piggy I told him to shower and meet me in the bedroom in ten. I was still too big for most of my lingerie but I did find a sheer robe that fit, I sat on the bed in nothing but that. George's cock was at attention immediately.

"Baby, the doctor said 5 or 6 weeks. Are you sure?"

"You aren't going to make love to me Puddin, you're gonna lick me and then I'm going to give you a blow job. If you're a really good boy I'll let you have a taste of my milk. Would you like that?"

"YES ... To everything you said."

I wasn't sure if him eating me was going to work or not, in the end I asked him to stop after less than a minute, it just wasn't comfortable yet. I did take care of him though, the way he grunted and groaned when he came you'd have thought the guy hadn't cum in year. I will say this, it was the first time I couldn't swallow everything in a long time, there were a few dribbles out the corners of my mouth. Laying there sated he thanked me and softly rubbed cocoa butter into my aching breasts.

When the ointment was thoroughly rubbed in he snuggled into me and asked if I was serious about a taste for him. I sat up against the headboard, cradled his head and brought his mouth to my nipple. I have to admit he was much nicer about it than the baby, she would latch on with a vengeance and suck for all she was worth. George on the other hand was soft and gentle, I think he was afraid of somehow hurting me. After a few sucks my milk let down and I could feel it being sucked into his mouth.

He pulled back, told me how sweet it tasted and put his lips back on my nipple. Shannon hadn't emptied me out before she slept so I let him drink from each breast, which in the end was a relief to me, maybe tonight I wouldn't soak through the nursing pad in my bra. As he walked her later following her two o'clock feeding I heard him cooing to her about what a lucky girl she was to be able and suck mama's nipples every day. That man never ceased to amaze me with the level of his love, for me, and now our daughter.

When Shannon was born auntie and Weezy were the first following George to be in my room. They were smiling and saying Lawdy, Lawdy, look how beautiful that baby be.

Auntie was first to dote over her, stripping her down to the skin the entire time she talked to her in that syrupy voice.

"Mmm, hmm, she be all there."

As soon as she had her naked she put her back together. It was hilarious to watch, as though something might be missing.

Weezy looked at us with a serious stare. "I wasn't sho you two would last, or what yo babies be lookin like, but this, this right here, this be worth all yo hard work keepin it togetha. Don't matta what color yo skin be, this right here, this be love."

We'd had our moments that's for sure, never between George and I, always from those outside our realm, yet we chose to stay together and not concern ourselves with others. I can honestly say that other than when we make love and watch the contrast of our skin color uniting, neither of us pays any attention to color or race. George stunned me one Sunday after church on the way home.

"Didn't we read in the Bible this morning at the front of the book that God made it so every seed produced after it's own kind? Well, we can reproduce, so we must be of the same seed no matter what color we are."

I loved this man's simple complexity. Didn't remember we were in the book of Genesis and yet figured out the message most people missed. On the outside he was mister country bumpkin, on the inside he was my protector, me and our babies security, and the main reason I rose daily to face another day in this imperfect world.

On a Friday evening my Georgie walked through the door, kissed me like it was the first time ever, squeezed my bottom and walked to his baby girl. We knew it was too soon for her to know us outwardly, but he pretended she understood every word he said. He'd tell her all about his day being very animated with soft tones. She'd would gurgle or coo occasionally which only encouraged him more.

He was loading the dishwasher as I nursed "miss piggy", she was a noisy baby when she nursed, making sounds all the time, and God forbid she might lose that nipple. George remarked if she wasn't so nosy trying to see everything she wouldn't lose the nipple. Yup, he was right. Sitting next to me he softly stroked her thin whispy hair whispering to her, "Soon Shannon, mom says soon."

"Not soon Puddin, tonight. Doctor gave me the go ahead this afternoon. We can start practicing for the next one. If I don't start ovulating while she nurses I'll wean her at a year so we can get the next one in the oven."

"Martha, how many do you think we'll have? I'm all for lots, but you're the one who has to have them."

"If they're all as easy as she was, I can see us having at least four, we have to take our ages into account, we started late. I'd love six, we'll have to see how things pan out. Speaking of pan, we need to talk in the morning, I have an idea for expansion. But for now, you need to burp her and put her down while I slip into something you can take off."

I'd done something special for our first love making since the baby was born. I'd ordered a pair of hip high bikini panties in white with red lettering that said, "Georges cock goes here" with an arrow pointing toward the bottom of the V between my legs. I was wearing a sheer white robe over the panties, a white belt and sheer white stockings. There was no way my man could possibly not notice me, as though he needed encouraging.

I was sitting against the headboard waiting for him, as soon as he saw me he was instantly hard, I swear he was softly growling. I'm so glad he didn't fall, he'd have pole vaulted over the bed. Taking his clothes off as he approached I didn't bother telling him to slow down, there weren't any brakes on this locomotive. He kissed me, then lifted me, laid me in the middle of the bed after taking my robe off and panties. He did ask about my breasts, should he be extra careful, could he suck at least a little. I told him to be gentle but yes, he could suck a little.

I never realized he was as much a tit hound as his daughter was, hmmm, maybe that's where she got it from. As he kissed his way down my body to what he called his playground I raised my hips pushing into the hand on my bush. His fingers were unsure, I could tell he was hesitant, I placed my hand on his and moved it on top of my vulva, then using my finger to push his into me. I sighed and moved my hand, he knew I was okay, proceeding to gently finger me as he worked his face into my starved pussy.

He was as talented as he 'd ever been, bringing me to not one or two, but three hard orgasms before I had to push his head away. My clit sticking up like some miniature pecker waiting to be mounted. He didn't want me to suck him, he wanted to make love to me, saying we would do it missionary tonight and see how I felt afterward. We began slowly, him trying to control himself and not drive too deep, it didn't take long for my uterus to adjust, I had my hands on his ass cheeks pulling him in all the way.

I thought I wanted it doggy, which turned out to be too much, he quickly helped me onto my back where we continued. He was so sweet, I knew he wanted to explode inside me, and yet he made sure I was going to climax before he did. It wasn't a convulsive orgasm, it was just very strong, my breath was gone, my mouth was open, I was bending forward slightly at the chest and my hands were gripping his arms. Following that I began pushing into him with earnest, I'd been his wife long enough to recognize he was about to cum.

"Cum for me Puddin, put another baby in mama. Shoot your baby juice in my hungry pussy."

Talk like that always took him over the edge, tonight when he went over he did so with force. His cock began twitching and throbbing, the first shot from his dick felt like someone had put a water hose in me and turned it on full blast. The second wasn't as intense but it was as plentiful, I could feel myself filling with his thick warm creamy spunk, something I'd been missing just over six weeks. His cock pulsed as it spit out his love juice, staying as far in me as possible, as though his cock was the cork that would stop me from leaking.

As his dick softened I felt the juice run over my perineum then down across my little puckered rosebud. It felt like he shot a buckets worth inside me. He cleaned me with a washcloth before picking me up and carrying me to the waiting hot bath with what he called "girl stuff" in the water. I assumed he meant Epsom salts and lavender scented bath oil. There would be no more love making tonight, somehow we both knew it and were satisfied with what we'd been able to do.

Next morning after the baby was nursed and asleep we sat down to breakfast. I tried to make a bigger more complex breakfast on weekends, throughout the week it was always somewhat rushed. With eyes dancing across my face I motioned for him to slide back so I could sit on his lap. I put his hand on my mound holding it in place.

"I want you to touch me, to own me Puddin, but I'm too sore to play. I need you to keep your hand there and listen to me. Okay?"

"Seriously? You want me to have my hand on your pussy and listen to you talk? Okay, I'll try."

I talked about the fact that we were quickly running out of space in our present building, that we were having to turn down orders for breads and pastries because we didn't have the space or personnel. The old butcher shop at the end of the block the bakery was on had been empty for over five years, it had a walk-in cooler and freezer, as well as some dry cases in front. If we could get that building cheap and stick fifteen or twenty into it we could move breads and pastries there, leaving the other shop for cakes, cupcakes and the like.

We had turned down a grocery stores request to provide daily fresh French and Italian loaves because we couldn't meet the demand. George had an idea that spun everything out of orbit. What if we set up a kiosk in the mall, the cost for kiosk space was $600 per month, but we would bring in far greater than that while advertising our goods. He talked about the perfect people to do that would be auntie and Weezy, they'd know everyone by name in a month, and what better people than the two who started it all in their kitchen's decades ago. There wouldn't be question asked they couldn't answer.

We had talked about a way to keep them involved without having to be in the shop everyday at 4:30. Something like the kiosk would be perfect. As far as personnel to take their spot and open the new shop, I had been told of three women who used to run the Festival bakery before they went to everything frozen. What if we contacted them to see if they might be interested. If we put one of them in the cake store and hired another intern that would free up the other two Brenda's breads.

"What, you already have a name?"

"Of course, when I have an idea, I have an entire idea."

We talked with the girls at Sunday brunch. They loved the idea, they could be active and get to meet lots of people without having to work 10 hour days any longer. Next on the agenda, contact the realtor about the old butcher shop. It was owned by a grumpy old German guy who supposedly no one liked. I made an appointment to meet him with our realtor which turned out to be quite an adventure. As we walked in I could see a frown on his face. After greetings and a handshake he showed us around.

When it came time to talk turkey he interrupted in a very heavy German accent.

"Not sure I want to sell this to any darkies."

When I looked at him, I laughed, not at him, but what he'd said.

"What, were you raised in the 30's, nobody has called black people "darkies" in decades. Besides, our money is as green as any other group of people, and we have the cash, there'll be no waiting for financing."

Shannon was fussing, it was time to nurse, I was hoping she'd sleep through it but no luck.

"Will it bother you if I nurse while we talk?"

I put a towel over my shoulder, got myself ready and brought her to my chest as we haggled over price. He watched her little head through the towel and finally asked very quietly,

"Can I watch her eat?"

My first instinct was to be afraid, very afraid, run as fast as your legs will carry you. But something in his eyes told me it was okay.

"I'll sit in the chair, stand behind so you can look over my shoulder, you'll see her better from that angle."

As he watched he teared up. He only watched for a few minutes before grabbing a chair and sitting in front of me. He and his wife had a little girl, he would watch her nurse every day, until she died of SIDS. From that point his wife went off the rails, in and out of mental institutes as they were called then. He said the day she died was one of the best days of his adult life, he would no longer have to watch his wife suffer.

"So, what you want with my store? You don't look like you cut meat."

"I sure don't, my husband and I own the bakery store down the block, we're running out of room and want to open another shop."

"Ya, did you know he's married to a black girl?'

"I'm that black girl, this is our daughter, is your store for sale or is the sign in the window a joke?"

I was kind of pissed at this point.

His name was Hans, he sat looking at me, then at the sign, then at me, then toward the back of the store, then back at me.

"You say you got the money?"

"Oh, we have the money, but we're not paying what you're asking, you want more than it's worth."

"Is not too high, I'll get what I want."

"Mr. Hans, you've set on this with no offers for five years, in fact I know we're the first to look at it in nearly three years. You can sit on it another five years and by then it will be so run down it'll be worth even less. You can have it, we'll find someone who actually wants to sell a building."

I'd put myself back together and was burping Shannon as I stood to leave. He reached out and touched my hand very gently.

"Please, wait. What time your husband off work? Okay, well you bring him with you tonight at 6, here at the store, come in the back door. We'll talk."

I texted George immediately to see if he could get off work early. He texted back in ten minutes saying he could leave at 3:30, be home by quarter of. We researched the property, looking at all the public records we could find, coming to the conclusion that because it was on a bigger lot and had a larger building the fair market value on that it would be around 155, give or take 5000. He was asking 180, if we could get it for 150 to 160 it would fit our purposes well.

We dropped the baby off at aunties along with some breast milk and met him at 6, the first thing he did was ask George why he didn't marry a white girl. I thought, sheesh, this guy is an ass, but George, my protector and wise to the stupid things people ask about our marriage, shown bright again with his answer.

"Because I didn't fall in love with a white girl, got any more stupid questions? We didn't drive over here for this, you here to talk about money or talk shit?"

The guy smiled and backed right down. Trying to throw another curve ball he told us he wasn't budging from 180, George looked at me, took my hand and we started out the door. As we stepped across the threshold he told us to wait.

George had enough, "Listen mister, we didn't come here to screw around. We did our homework and determined this place isn't worth more than 150 on a good day. The old Hopkins grocery is listed at 148, it's twice the size of this and has the original baking oven still in it. We like this location and we're willing to give you 155."