Ms. Consensual: Not My Baby!! Ch. 02

I just nodded meekly as Phoebe started moving yanking up on her pajama bottoms still stuffed in the center of her pregnancy pillow. Instead, Rashida pushed the door open further standing there with a glass platter. There were four stuffed breakfast burritos on the plate. My stomach growled at the sight of the food.

"I got it covered Phoebe; I made six just in case you were still hungry if you wanted these. I hope you're not mad I used your kitchen, but I know how those cravings go when you're pregnant. My cousin was having a baby a few years ago and she was an ABSOLUTE TERROR...Not uhm, saying you're being a terror or anything. May I come inside your bedroom, Phoebe?"

"Yeah girl you burning for me, come on in here and keep me company without getting my blood pressure up, unlike some people around here." I grimaced at the not so subtle dig at my person giving her toe a brief rough tug and getting a kick back as Rashida walked inside with the platter.

"Here!" Rashida surprised me by shoving one of the fat breakfast burritos into my mouth with attitude. I gagged barely catching the rest from falling into my lap.

My palm swiped up at light speed smacking the shit out of those sixty plus inches of online fame.

The cheeks jiggled slightly despite my best efforts to slap them off of her back as Rashida turned to me with a raised brow while handing Phoebe the platter. It seemed as if she would respond in kind leaning over level with my face only to be momentarily interrupted by Phoebe's impish laughter. Rashida glanced over taking in her mirth as she stuffed her face.

Rashida planted a chaste kiss on my lips instead then offered her hand.

"Phoebe, can I talk to him for a few minutes outside?"

"What're you asking me for?"

Rashida smiled weakly then took my hand leading me back to the kitchen where she had a plate waiting for me. The moment we walked out of the bedroom, Phoebe turned up the volume on her television as loud as it would go signaling another tantrum. Rashida stood over me as I had a proper breakfast filling a cup of orange juice for me a few times while staring a hole in my face pointedly.

"What?"

"Sure that ain't your baby?"

"Are you kidding?"

"That's not an answer."

"You're serious?"

"Well, look how she's acting with you; that shit is well, giving baby mamma vibes like a motherfucker."

"No, it ain't." I retorted at once indignant.

"Daddy, that woman acts like she's got papers on you. That's baby mamma vibes, negro."

"Rashida Sikes, I am not the father of Phoebe's child."

"Spoken like a true Clinton."

"Goddammit!'' I almost choked on a mouthful of eggs, but she gave me some hard pats to the back helping me clear my throat.

My throat ended up feeling very sore after I coughed up some food that had gone down the wrong pipe. Rashida offered me a renewed glass of orange juice to wash the rest down, but I waved her off getting up leaving her in the kitchen. I went back down the corridor doing mental gymnastics starting to doubt my own sanity shoving the door open finding Phoebe laying there watching another movie at a moderate sound level now. On screen some old Japanese monster movie was in process with two giant humanoids brawling in a city while being bombarded by the nearby navy.

I stood in the doorway glaring at Phoebe in profile laying there with some comforters covering her baby belly. My mind was traveling backward for the details of our last hookup and the particulars. Oliver already thought I was the baby daddy instead of Bentley even though the man was regularly pulling all nighters with his "wife" with no protection in sight. My mind went there anyway knowing my mother would probably be ecstatic to have a grandchild while cementing my current status as the black sheep of the family for making pornography. My father probably wouldn't care but would ogle Phoebe, nonetheless.

I wondered if Phoebe would be that duplicitous and malevolent, if it were true.

"RASHIDAAAA!!" Phoebe screamed out of nowhere at the top of her lungs knocking me out of my internal strife.

"HEY! Is, everything okay Phoebe?" I was shoved out of the way as Rashida came running in a panic shoving me aside rounding the edge of the bed.

"Could you uhm, go in that small drawer on my vanity table and give me the envelope in there." I leaned against the door frame as Rashida shot me a look full of accusation.

"Over here?"

"Yeah, uhm that one right by your hip; it's a big white envelope kind of crumpled up." Rashida followed through finding and pulling out the aforementioned big wrinkled envelope taking care to unfold it before handing it to Phoebe.

"Come over here and stop brooding; I want you right in front of me with Rashida."

My heart started thumping in my chest as I walked over feeling a little weak in the knees. Rashida's eyes followed me until I was near. She took my hands interlocking her fingers in mine for emotional support as Phoebe opened the envelope pulling out a bunch of papers letting them spill all over the mattress.

"I heard you two talking and I just wanted to let you know that a while back I thought about the possibility too. I was not looking forward to having a baby with a man child. Especially one that cheated on me after I did everything in my power to remake him in the image of "daddy" right here. Yeah, I was hating on Charity for setting us up that night, but then felt stupid because there ain't no way she would've been stupid enough to let herself get knocked up by a simp."

"I'm sorry." Rashida started to apologize but Phoebe waved it off, brow starting to furrow.

"This is my moment, respect." Phoebe replied as I felt nauseous when she found what she was looking for staring intently at the single piece of paper.

"Okay." Rashida looked at me then glanced down at the floor.

"Okay, here it is friends, the answer to the sixty-four thousand dollar question."

I exchanged glances with Rashida as she squeezed my hand.

"YOU-ARE-NOT THE FATHER!!"

"HUH?!!" Rashida bucked her eyes releasing my hand as Phoebe started laughing her ass off with her free hand on her belly.

"Honestly, I wished you were the baby daddy, but this test says otherwise." Phoebe kept laughing as Rashida snapped.

"FUCK SO FUNNY?!! AND WHY YOU KEEP MISTREATING HIM IF HE AIN'T YOUR BABY DADDY?!!" Phoebe didn't seem upset at the outburst flattening a palm against her chest answering the question.

"Guess I'm mad he isn't my baby's father Rashida; trust me, if you met Bentley, you'd understand why I've got uhm, issues. Wanna meet him?"

"Hey wait a minute." Phoebe was already texting up her hapless baby's father despite our protestations.

"Hold on Phoebe." I tried to interrupt getting shooshed.

"Bentley, where are you?...what, are you talking back, talking shit? You talking shit to me asshole? You're supposed to be here!! Excuse me, huh?!! Are you busy? You got something better to do than helping me out with your fucking baby?!! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!...huh, I don't care! YOU'RE STILL TALKING DUMBASS!! "

Phoebe ended the call hanging up in his face looking pleased with herself before noticing the collective shocked expressions on our faces.

"He cheated."

"OH!!" Rashida responded touching a hand to her cheek as I looked at her doing a doubletake.

"Oh? What the fuck do you mean "OH" Rashida?"

"She said he cheated."

"Yeah?"

"Well, that explains everything; look, you can't cheat on a pregnant woman and not expect some nuclear blowback. That nigga is lucky she didn't cut his nuts off. Yeah, he probably started looking when she started showing and shit. You know how guys are, right?"

"No, why don't you tell me about it bitch?" I cocked my head to the side irritated at her casual slap in the face to my gender.

"He cheated on me with an old lady." Phoebe cut in enjoying the interplay between us.

"Ew, that's nasty." Rashida looked disgusted scrunching her narrow face up at the news. I folded my arms fed up with them both and Phoebe in particular.

"Your friend here, fucked her too." Phoebe added looking between us as Rashida did a doubletake letting her jaw drop.

"Ms. Hate." I added statically offering nothing else.

"Huh?"

"MS. HATE!!"

"What?" Rashida looked confused.

"On my site, her name is Ms. Hate; she was on some serious shit a while back trolling a friend of mine and got sloppy with it. That old bitch was doxing one of my models outside of you guys and thought she could get paid on the down low before popping up all brand new at my church. This shit happened after I got kicked out of your friend circle with infamous you know who. I wanted to prove to myself that I could go my own way and put out an ad online, for talent."

"You were so desperate, you clapped some old stale cheeks?"

"Ms. Hate, but her slave name is Sister Jacobs."

"Ug, how old is this woman?"

"How should I know; maybe mid to late fifties?" I shrugged as Rashida looked one step away from regurgitating.

"Damn I never figured you were on that "Get In where you Fit In" tip; all up in the musty drawers, fuck that's uh, nasty."

"MS. HATE RASHIDA!!" I made a phone gesture as I shouted in her face.

"Oh." Rashida got her iPhone out of her skintight back pocket bringing up my site as I glanced over at Phoebe who was watching us pensively looking wholly malicious. Her bottom lip was quivering uncontrollably as Rashida's eyes went wide.

"OH SHIT!! MS. HATE!!...uhm yeah, okay then." She looked up at me from the face of her phone then at Phoebe who was about to burst.

"If you say anything, I'll scream until I have a miscarriage." Phoebe growled knowing the physical truth of her ex-boyfriend and my dalliance was explained by a simple thumbnail on my site.

"It ain't that serious girl, she ain't but an old thot. She just getting what she can get before somebody lock her musty ass up in the fucking old folks home. Phoebe girl, I'll ride with you." Rashida planted her sixty plus inches of online fame on the edge of the mattress rubbing Phoebe's arm.

"You mean it?"

"Yeah, girls got to stick together, or these fools will run all over us. I know you whupped that ass, right? I mean, your ex, right?"

"Of course, I gave him a concussion."

"Damn Phoebe!" Rashida chortled sort of forcing it while I scratched the back of my head rolling my eyes.

"I got nothing." I added looking about wondering if walking out of the room would trigger another tantrum. Phoebe had proven to be way more than a handful. Walking out was still on the menu, but I remembered that recurring dream I'd had during the night that was usually the signal for some oncoming shenanigans.

Quisha was never wrong about these things. I resolved to wait it out to see the other shoe to drop.

"That thing is huge." Phoebe poked a pointer finger into the side of Rashida's butt.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You should see me when I'm not knocked up; I think I could give you a run for your money, at least in the legs department."

"I don't know about that."

"Listen to Phoebe." I cautioned.

"Aw you just trying to score brownie points." Rashida shot back.

I snatched the comforter off of Phoebe before she could react revealing the truth of her lower half. Rashida's butt stopped me from completely yanking the covers free of the bed. Phoebe was laying on her side with the pajama bottoms bunched up between her legs exposing them from the lower thighs to her tiny feet. I was about to get verbally dressed down when Rashida glanced at Phoebe's legs.

"Shit!" Rashida stood up turning about looking down at Phoebe.

"Told you."

"Sheesh, you been wearing those baggy pajamas since I got here this morning; never would've thought you were holding like this. Are you uh, a body competitor or something?"

"Are you trying to say I have legs like a man?"

"Not even, they're perfect and better than mine, but I still got the booty." Rashida chuckled as Phoebe's features softened.

"I used to be a lot heavier back in school; one of my husband's past boyfriends got me into the gym. Got my body really tight and toned, bought some tits to even out everything; not that anybody ever noticed." Phoebe shot me a look.

"Where did we meet?" I shot back.

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. It's just that I wish I got more validation, uh publicly if you know what I mean? Rashida, how do you deal with the constant attention?"

"It's not like that, all the time; when I met daddy here, he couldn't keep his eyes off of me."

"Don't start."

"Hey, it worked out, didn't it? I mean we ain't stopped hooking up since then, huh? This guy cracks me up sometimes Phoebe; can't keep his hands off the booty."

"That not surprising, look at that thing; it's fucking iconic." Phoebe complimented.

"Uhm, I don't want to offend you; but are you gay?"

"Don't think so; I've only been kind of with one girl but that was in a threesome with yours truly right there." Rashida shot me this surprised look which embarrassed me enough to turn around and sit on the bed watching the movie.

"Now I know why you were so different that time in the backyard; you apparently got in a lot of practice, huh daddy?"

"Shut up."

"You guys did it in a backyard?"

"Well, kind of; I was sunbathing in this bomb ass bikini and this fool snuck up on me and started playing with the kitty. Uhm, you know how he is obviously. This guy is so fucking sneaky these days; he'll be in your panties before you even realize it. Ain't that right daddy?"

"Shut up."

"Why do you call him daddy?"

"Because he gave me a new lease on life; a true restart after I'd been finessed for years by a supposed best friend. I'm not perfect, and he just...accepts me as I am, no questions asked. You know what I'm saying?"

"...yeah." I glanced back over my shoulder, finding Phoebe laying there watching me with a somber smile on her rounded face.

I reached down handling one of her feet giving it a light one handed massage. Rashida gave my bicep a squeeze with this heartened smile on her narrow face.

"Careful Rashida, we might end up doing our thing if you keep looking at me like that."

"What thing?"

"Every time we end up in some new place, we do it in the bathroom. Well, that's how we started back in the day. This fool got hella mannish with me in my former friend's bathroom; fucked the shit out of me in there, and outside the door in the hallway too."

"REALLY?!"

Rashida chortled rubbing my back leaving the answer out there in the air.

"Hey uh, can I see it?"

Rashida traced the trajectory of Phoebe's gaze to her sixty plus inches of online fame.

"Maybe I'm pansexual."

My running buddy scoffed standing up already unzipping but still having a hard time digging her thumbs into the waistband of her skintight shorts drawing them laboriously over the swell and curve of her supple monstrous ass. I forced myself to look away staring at the movie on the mounted flatscreen.

"OMFG!" Phoebe exclaimed, making me look back anyway.

Rashida was wearing a tiny lace string bikini panty that covered nothing but her peach and that, barely so.

"Clap that shit." I ordered.

Rashida had the shorts bunched up in the deep undercuff of her butt wedged tightly in the crease because of the volume of her cake. On cue she flexed and clapped filling the room with her trademark thunderous claps making Phoebe laugh aloud and clap at the show. Rashida ended the brief demonstration by jiggling her cheeks individually and collectively with a final earsplitting wet sounding clap. She gave Phoebe a wink and a smile.

"Well, I've still got you in the legs department." Phoebe commented.

"Nothing beats the butt."

"After I have this kid, I'm definitely gonna be in the gym working my squats; you don't mind, do you?"

"Aw, go ahead; I figure I ain't getting out of this house until you do." Rashida shrugged then noticed me looking at her with this sarcastic half smirk on my face.

She gestured with a shrug of her shoulders.

"What?"

"Just remembering how much hell you gave me when we first met." Rashida scoffed as I folded my arms across my chest in front of her.

"That's different...you're a GUY!"

"Oh yeah, remember what happened when I caught you in that bathroom?"

"Negro please, that was sanctioned."

"So, I wouldn't have had a chance otherwise?"

"Man, I not saying that; I'm telling you that it was sanctioned because you were signed off on by my girl at the time. She tried you out and gave the thumbs up rating. I was supposed to be in that bathroom instead of Mintzy."

"Who's Mintzy?" Phoebe interjected.

"Old friend, busted ass Italian beotch with these really big titties; daddy here, was absolutely crucifying her on the pene back in the day. Got her hooked on the BBC, for reals Phoebe." Rashida's assessment of a former member of her disbanded sewing circle was brutal.

"I thought you liked Mintzy." I commented.

"She was clout chasing and hanging around for table scraps; almost got the business when she came at Jaquan, but you know how connected she was, huh daddy?"

"She came at my cousin?!"

"It was after you were uh, gone." I winced remembering the con perpetrated upon my person that ended initially with my ouster from the social circle.

"Damn, I feel like I need to take notes." Phoebe commented letting her hands do the walking grabbing a handful of those sixty plus inches of online fame.

Her fingers were parted by the sheer girth of Rashida's right ass cheek as she marveled at its weight alone. She let go turning her palm upward, sinking her fingertips into that undercuff jiggling it herself getting our attention after a few seconds. After this, Phoebe grabbed it while palming it like a basketball lightly pulling on it exposing a bit of the diamond shaped negative space between her thighs. I noticed the focus on her face as four fingers disappeared between Rashida's thighs somewhat impeded thankfully by Rashida's bunched up shorts.

"Shit girl, you going after the cookies or something?" Rashida turned around carefully disengaging Phoebe's fingers.

"Maybe, it's just, so much; I don't know how you manage it."

"I do." My fingers were between Rashida's cheeks rubbing her slit, finding it fast getting dewy downstairs as she reached back disengaging my hand but keeping control of my wrist.

"BRUH?!!"

"Oh wow, the front looks delicious; can I uhm, touch it?" Phoebe was invested in getting Rashida's attention with a whip of her head in the direction of our host.

"No." She started side eyeing both of us, suspicious.

A loud series of knocks at the front door interrupted us before things got even more awkward.

"HELP ME UP, SHIT!!" Phoebe suddenly began flopping about inching about, nearly toppling off the bed until we each took an arm helping her sit upright. She was gassed, already huffing and puffing, still trying to get up as Rashida continued aiding her by supporting her bicep.

"What is it girl?"

"Bentley, get me up so I can get him!"

"Phoebe!" I cautioned.

She was already standing with a hand on Rashida's shoulder but stopped short looking the woman up and down as the knocking continued along with a few rings of the doorbell.

"HEY!!" Phoebe grabbed handfuls of Rahida's shorts yanking them down mid-thigh almost getting clocked in the process, but I grabbed my friend's wrist as an explanation was forthcoming.

"TAKE THESE OFF AND ANSWER THE DOOR!! COME ON, HURRY UP!!" Phoebe was a woman possessed and so intense that Rashida was out of her shorts in moments standing there towering over her in wedge sandals.

"Don't help her." I got shoved roughly as both women pushed past me with Phoebe leading the way.

The fleeting view of Rashida's wholly exposed cake and a pervasive sense of dread prompted me to follow them out into the living room to see Rashida standing in front of the closed living room door as Bentley continued knocking and ringing the doorbell incessantly. Phoebe was standing just behind the door holding this ash shovel from the fireplace looking ready to swing for the fences.