Marti's Baby Daddy

Marti's Baby Daddy -- It's not me!

Marti and I had been married for two years and I didn't think life could get any better; but it did. Seven months ago Marti got pregnant. We had given up on having a child. But now we were going to be parents. A girl. A daughter. Us. Wow! I read someplace that girls were always closer to their father than their mother. Hell that was fine with me! I also read that children got most of their personality from their father. That was fine with me as well. Anyway, we were thrilled. We bought tons of clothes and toys. We decorated the spare bedroom in every shade of pink imaginable. Fuck, it looked like a room full of Pepto Bismol when we were finished.

Then the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and in all probability the most beautiful in the whole fucking world walked into my office. Okay, office is a slight exaggeration...it's really a cubicle. But it is a corner cubicle and in this dealership that means a hell of a lot. Yep, I said dealership. I sell cars. Cadillac's. I sell a lot of Cadillacs. In any month I sell more than the next two salesmen combined. And the interesting part is, I am a lousy salesman. Really, I am. I couldn't give a shit if you ever bought a car from me or anyone else. So, why am I so successful? It seems that I am some kind of magnet for people who want to buy cars.

It started six years ago. My father always loved Cadillac's and never had any other car. He said they were the best and safest on the road. That seemed to work pretty well until an 18 wheeler ran over the one both of my parents were in killing them.

My father was a pretty smart man and established a family trust which, according to his wishes, became irrevocable upon his death. I was their only son and was named both Trustee and sole beneficiary. There were not massive amounts of assets in the trust, less than 1 million dollars, a very nice house and two Cadillac's; my mother's and what was left of my father's. That's what brought me to the dealership. It was time to get a new one. Mom's was getting on in years so it was time to trade.

On the showroom floor was exactly the model I wanted. I was looking it over and waiting for a salesman when an elderly couple came up to me and asked if I worked there. I told them no. Then they pointed to another car on the floor and asked if I knew anything about it. I told them that I knew a little bit so we went over its features. When we were finished I went back to the one I was looking at.

By then a salesman had broken free and we were negotiating my deal. I generally know what I want and try hard to get it so he was having a hard sell with me. Somewhere near the end of our negotiations the sales manager introduced himself and told me that the couple I had been talking to bought the car we had looked at. He thanked me and gave me virtually everything I had been asking for in my own deal.

Over the next couple of months, I was in and out of the dealership three times. Once to get my title and registration, once for service and once to have a defective tire replaced. Each of the three times I had a customer try to buy a car from me. I never sit around the service waiting area because there is always some trite fucking reality program on TV or some loudmouth is talking on his cell phone so I hang out on the showroom floor and look at the cars and, invariably, someone will mistake me for a salesman.

The last time it happened the same sales manager from before asked me in to his office. A real office. A big office. A really nice office. By the end of the conversation I was working for him. That was six years ago. In that time I have become the highest grossing salesman in the dealership's history and have made a shit load of money. I work when I want to and come and go as I please. It's eerie the way it has turned out.

Up until three years ago I was single and loving life. I fucked a lot of women and sold a lot of cars. Over the years I have turned down several promotions because even though I would like to have had a real office, I didn't want the hassle that went with a management position. Besides, I was making more money than everyone except the sales manager.

Anyway, this gorgeous woman stormed into my cubicle and started talking. I didn't hear a fucking word. I sat there with my mouth open and my eyes popping out of my head.

"Are you listening to me?"

I shook my head to clear it.

"I'm sorry, my mind was somewhere else." Like on those beautiful tits I thought to myself.

"I said my name is Leah Walker and I'm married to the biggest asshole in the world."

"And exactly why is that of interest to me?"

"Because he's fucking your wife and is her 'baby daddy' that's why."

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

"You heard every word."

"Well, let me see. A woman I've never seen before comes into my office...er...cubicle and declares that her asshole husband is having sex with my wife and could be the father of her baby. Is that about it?"

At this point she took out a stack of pictures and tossed the first one to me. It was a picture of a very naked Marti on her knees sucking a not so very big black dick.

"Is that your wife?"

"Yes."

"That's my husband's dick in her mouth."

She tossed another picture at me. It showed Marti on her knees being fucking in the ass by that same black dick. It also showed her very pregnant stomach almost touching the mattress. Then she tossed a third picture showing her husband kissing my wife's stomach.

I was suddenly very sick.

"Where did you..." And I never made it to my trash can. I threw up all over my floor and caught the attention of almost everybody in the place. Leah Walker grabbed the pictures as people started rushing in to see what had happened. I excused myself and went to the restroom to rinse my mouth out and slap some cold water on my face.

When I came out maintenance had cleaned up my mess and sprayed some disinfectant around the showroom. Leah Walker was sitting on one of the several chairs we had scattered around. I walked up to her.

"I apologize. You kinda took me by surprise."

"I know exactly how you feel. Can you talk now?"

"I don't know. I can try. We can either go to the conference or go someplace else?"

"Let's get out of here. The place smells like vomit." She said and tried to smile at me. She took my arm and we walked out.

"Which of these fancy cars is yours?" We went to mine and got in.

"Want me to drive?" She asked.

I shook my head no and headed for the nearest bar, which happened to be in the Hilton hotel three blocks away. We pulled in and I started to get out.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Lewis, if you're thinking of a revenge fuck you can forget it." By the way, that's my last name. My first is Matthew. Matt to my friends.

"This is the closest place with alcohol and I need a drink. And an explanation."

A few minutes later we were in a booth with drinks in our hands. I'm a Gin and Tonic drinker. Leah Walker preferred Riesling.

"Okay, Mrs. Walker. From the beginning, please."

"Three days ago my husband was shot by another asshole he was trying to arrest. My husband is a police officer. He and some other officers were in the middle of a drug bust and all hell broke loose. He was shot three times and is in critical condition, but his current criticality, if there is such a word, is nothing compared to the hurt I'm going to put on his black ass if he recovers. Anyway he is in the hospital and is unconscious. I took his personal property home and was going through it. In his wallet he had a picture of a white woman. She was naked from the waist up and I wasn't impressed. No offense Mr. Lewis, but my tits are much nicer than hers. So I started trying to figure out why he had it. I searched the house to see if there were any others and found none. Then I called his Shift Supervisor and asked if I could go through his locker at the station. That's where I hit pay dirt."

"What do you mean, pay dirt?"

"I found about fifty pictures of asshole and your wife and two videos of them having sex. There were several letters from your wife. The two of them have Post Office boxes which they use. That's how I knew who she was and how to find you. Her letters were full of her telling him how happy she was that she was pregnant with his daughter. Her name is going to be Martina, by the way. She also described the pink bedroom you have fixed up for her. She told him she could hardly wait to divorce you so he could move into the house and see it."

I started to heave like I was going to throw up.

"Oh, fuck, not again!"

"It's okay. I think I can control it."

"I hope so."

"May I have copies of the videos?"

"Of course." She reached in her purse and brought out two cd's and gave them to me. "I know you are going to need time to digest all this, but let me tell you what I'm doing. I see an attorney in about an hour. The next time I talk to asshole will be in court. I'm going to sue him for every cent he has, has ever had or will ever have. That baby will have to depend on her mama because her daddy will have nothing to give her."

"Give me a day or so to think about things and I'll give you a call. Can I have your number?" I took out my phone and put her in it. We finished our drinks and she left. Even in my current confused state I joined every other person in the room in enjoying watching that beautiful ass sashay out of there. Grace, elegance and style combined with beauty made a powerful combination. Marti is no beast by any means, but why in the world asshole would give up Leah for her is a mystery. Marti is good in bed, but not spectacular. Christ she only swallows on Christmas and my birthday! Leah oozed sex. I just knew she would be the best piece of ass possible. It suddenly dawned on me that I didn't know her husband's name so I called her.

"Surely, you haven't made up your mind already?"

"No, but I have some questions for you. First, what is asshole's full name? And second, how did you know my name and where to find me? And, third, does Marti know he has been shot?"

"His name is George Henry Walker. In one of her letters your wife told him where you work and wouldn't it be funny if he bought a car from you with your own money after the divorce. So I had your last name from her name on the letters and I knew where you worked. Easy. As far as knowing if he has been shot the press knows about the bust and has reported it, but not the names of those who were shot. When I went through his locker, I found a phone I didn't know he had and assume she contacts him on it. If she has tried in the last three days she is probably wondering why he hasn't responded and I haven't been able to unlock it to see. Fuck her. Let her worry."

For the first time since I met Leah Walker I was almost able to chuckle. "For a cop, he certainly leaves a trail of clues, doesn't he?"

"If that motherfucker lives, the next trail he leaves will be a bloody one caused by one mad black bitch!!"

Earlier I said she had grace, elegance, style and beauty. Now I can add 'garbage mouth' to her list of assets. If she owned a liquor store she would be perfect.

I didn't want to go home because I didn't feel like facing Marti and I had no idea how either she or I would act. I knew about her and asshole, but as far as I knew she was unaware that I knew. I called the dealership attorney and asked to see him. Twenty minutes later he was confirming what I thought about my family trust. She couldn't touch a dime of it. She could only get half of what we had accrued during the marriage and I was determined that she wasn't getting any of that, either. I'd fly to Las Vegas and lose every fucking penny at the casinos before she got a fucking dime.

Then I went home. Marti was there sitting in the living room. She jumped up when she saw me and ran up to me for a hug and kiss. I stopped her and told her that I wasn't feeling too well and didn't want to infect either her or 'her' baby. She took a step back at that comment and just looked at me. I tried to maintain a bit of normalcy during dinner and after. Just after dinner we were sitting in the living room talking. It was one of the most difficult evenings I have ever had. I could hardly stand to look at the bitch much less carry on a civil conversation, but I knew that my plan depended on it. Just a few days; then she would be toast. She was telling me that someone was telling her about a drug bust a couple of days ago and apparently some people were shot. I then told her that a police friend of one of our mechanic's had been shot a couple of days ago and was in critical condition. I told her I didn't know if it was the same incident or not. I watched as her eyes got huge and fear spread over her face. She quickly excused herself and almost ran to our bedroom. I followed and listened through the door as she made a phone call.

"Come on, sweetie, answer. Please answer. Oh, God don't let it be him. Please."

"Don't let it be who? And who is sweetie?" I asked as I opened the door and walked in the room. "And whose phone is that? Yours' is on the coffee table."

"Uh, I, uh...it's Debby's phone. She left it here yesterday. She's sweetie."

"Don't let what be who?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said 'Oh, God don't let it be him."

"No, I didn't. I said 'God, I hate the gym'."

"Oh, okay. I guess I misunderstood." And I went to make myself a drink. She lied and I knew it. I decided to forget the drink and just left. I drove to my favorite coffee shop and called Leah Walker.

"Hi, this is Matthew Lewis. I talked to an attorney this afternoon and I have decided to nail their asses to the wall."

"Good. That means they will get it from both sides. My attorney and I are doing the same thing. By the way, I managed to unlock assholes' phone. The password was his badge number; the unimaginative bastard. There are hundreds of messages between the two of them. Some of them are pretty disgusting. Right after I unlocked it your wife called and left a message. She wanted to know why he hasn't called her. Then she called again later wanting to know if he was okay. She had heard that a police officer had been shot and was afraid it might be him and he should call her as soon as he could. How did she find out?"

So I told her what I had told Marti. We both laughed. I almost came just hearing her she was so sexy. I also told her that what I really wanted to do was put at least one of their video's on the web and see if I could make some money. I could almost feel her smile through the phone. We talked for a while longer before hanging up.

I went back home. Marti was asleep. I slept in one of the spare bedrooms.

The next morning she was gone when I got up. I packed a suitcase and made arrangements for a flight to Las Vegas. I called my sales manager and told him that I needed a few days off. He said no problem and I headed for the airport.

Six hours later I was sitting at a blackjack table betting the maximum and trying to lose all my money. It didn't quite work out that way. Within three hours I was ahead $12,500.00 so I changed my plan. I started writing checks on our personal account and cashing them. If I couldn't lose it I would pretend to!

It was around 11 that evening that I received a call from Marti.

"Why aren't you home? Are you working late? You never work late."

"I'm in Las Vegas and I am drunk as a skunk."

"What? Why are you there?"

"Because I found out that you are a cheating bitch." I ended the call and turned my phone off. Then I went up to my room. I had put off watching the videos Leah had given me, but now it was time. I made myself a rum and coke from the mini bar. I had never had a rum and coke in my life; but I had never watched my wife fucking someone else either so I figured it could be a night of firsts.

The first scene was obviously early in their relationship because Marti didn't appear to be pregnant; but she certainly was horny. She fucked that dick seven ways to sundown and never seemed to get enough.

"Oh, God. Fuck me, Georgie. Harder, please, harder. Oh, motherfucker!"

"Whose pussy is this bitch? Huh? Whose pussy is this?"

"It's your pussy, baby. Your pussy. Use your pussy. Oh, God fuck your pussy!!"

"That's right. It's my pussy. Ain't nobody else's. It's mine and I'm gonna fuck it til it's all used up, ain't I cunt? Huh?"

"Uh, uh, uh, oh, fuck yes, baby use that pussy. Use your pussy."

I threw up. But I did make it to the bath room. I don't know which was more disgusting; watching her fuck or trying to drink the rum and coke.

After rinsing my mouth and putting water on my face I sat and stared at my laptop. It suddenly dawned on me that the video had been shot from all angles. It moved around the room. There was somebody else in the room. Holy shit. Exactly how many people was she fucking? I made another drink. Whiskey and Sprite this time. The drink wasn't any better than the rum and coke and the video was a lot worse.

Marti and 'Georgie' fucked for two solid hours. I saw him cum in her and on her. He shot his cum on her face and then licked it off. I watched as he fucked her ass and I swear to god, she came. I watched her squirt. She never squirts. At least not until now. She was like a bitch in heat. The video went blank.

I kept telling myself that it couldn't get any worse. Have you ever tried scotch and ginger ale? There is no drink on earth which could be worse. It was a perfect pairing for the next scene I watched. The video came back on and they were standing drying each other off. They had obviously taken time off to shower.

"Baby there's something I want you to do for me."

"Anything, Georgie. You know that."

"Freddie has been nice enough to video us, so now we need to pay him. I want you to give him a blow job."

She looked first at 'Georgie' and then Freddie; well, at the camera, actually. Apparently Freddie was behind it.

"Are you sure you want me to?"

"Come on, baby. It's just a blow job."

"Looks like this is your lucky night, Freddie. Drop your pants."

The video went blank again and when it came back on someone had obviously set the camera on a tripod or something because it didn't move as I watched Marti being fucked by 'Georgie' while giving Freddie a blowjob. I didn't have any more cookies to toss.

I awoke late the next morning with a huge hangover. I took a shower and went downstairs to the buffet for something to eat. I couldn't keep anything down. I turned on my phone and had at least a dozen calls from Marti and two from Leah. Fuck Marti. I called Leah.

"Hello, Matt. How're things?"

"I watched the first of the two videos you gave me."

"Don't tell me. You threw up?"

"I don't know you well enough to say fuck you, but fuck you." I groaned.

"Hung over?" She chuckled.

"Oh, god, I haven't been drunk since my senior prom but I made up for it last night. How are things there?"

"Here? Where are you?"

"Vegas."

"What in the hell are you doing there?"

"Trying to lose all my money so I don't have to give it to my soon to be ex-wife."

"Well, good luck. She went by the hospital last night to see asshole. Don't know how she found out he had been shot or where he was, but she did."

"Were you there?"

"Fuck no. I told you the next time I see him it is going to be in court."

"Did they let her in?"

"Nope. He is in isolation and nobody sees him."

"How do you know she was there?"

"His mother told me. She wants to know why I haven't been by to see him. I told her that he was a cheating scumbag and I didn't want anything else to do with him and that she could have him back if he lives. Anyway, enough about those two, when will you be back?"

"Don't know. Three or four days, I guess."

"Well,. if you're serious about putting their video on the internet let me know how I can help and call me when you get home."