The Honeymoon, Finale

We've brought our issues before The Fellas a time or two. Jennie stands up for me. Kevon, DeSean and Eddie tend to see Artie's point of view. I tend to think I could see Artie's position...IF I WASN'T FUNDING IT!!! It's MY fucking money that's being poured down that COW'S filthy gullet!! The little boy is NOT MY CHILD!!! FUCK!!!! SHE GETS TO LIVE HIGH ON THE HOG IN HER DOWNTOWN CONDO WHILE I HAVE TO ROB PETER TO PAY PAUL!! Every time I have to call the lightman to stretch my electric bill payments across two fucking paychecks, I get furious!! Between us, Artie and I make almost two hundred grand a year!! We're spending five grand a month in airline bills alone!! Tack on child support, hotel bills and the money Artie pays to buy the little boy things above and beyond what he pays in child support, I tend to think I'm right. Artie and I are being MILKED.

God help me if I turn up pregnant. MY child will have to suckle at my tits for years until Artie's little boy, damn near grown by then, gets off the motherfucking dole. I won't be able to afford to feed my child otherwise. And what do the courts have to say about that?

"Mr. Jay should have thought about that when he agreed to father a child with [the COW]"

I can't bring myself to say her name. I can't bring myself to say the little boy's name.

Maybe Artie should be with her and not me. There's no fucking way I'm marrying this man. Eighteen more years of this?

FUCK THAT.

Cynthia Simpson: It took me several years before I dredged up the courage to admit that my husband's nine-incher could never mollify the five or six inches of Mrs. Hotbox yearning for closure at the very back of my pussy.

I've tried to console myself by pointing out all Kevon's other virtues. He works hard at a good job. He's cultured and handsome. My parents love him. We get along well most of the time. He is a good man, although a bit clueless about my extracurricular sexual activities.

This last is his most valuable asset. I can go anywhere, stay for days, and when I return home he greets me with a smile and a kiss.

"How was your trip, baby?"

At first I found his naiveté to be quaint. Any other man would have said "BITCH!! WHERE'VE YOU BEEN!!!" My husband does not. After a while I began to wish that he would. All women want a man that is strong, a man that imposes his will from time to time. Kevon does not.

And that's why Kevon and I are getting divorced.

Of course, I had to make it seem as if his little dalliance with whatshername at his job was the reason. But really, I didn't give a fuck about that. How many men had I bedded? How could I complain about the women whom he fucked?

No, the truth is that I kept in contact with Trevor in Aruba. I went to visit him regularly, by myself. I paid for him to visit me. His lengthy penis filled those empty inches of Mrs. Hotbox nicely, inches that desperately needed closure.

Kevon's penis was good for clitoral orgasms.

I much preferred vaginal orgasms.

When Kevon came home and confessed his extramarital affair I was elated. This was, at last, my ticket to freedom. I put on a big act, started throwing things, shrieking and yelling and going on. I put him out of his own house!!

When he left I called Trevor in Aruba and told him: "It's our time now, baby!"

I'm waiting for him to get his affairs in order. He's Coming to America!!

Trevor: Yah, mon. So I have dese 'Merican girls on de tip, mon. De tip of my dick!! Dey come my island an' dey t'ink dey can buy up de world. Every week it's a new one, mon. I can't keep de names straight.

Dere's dis one chick, she come my island for she honeymoon. She name Cynthia, I t'ink. She nice!! She come to de beach one night. I naked. She see my little man danglin'. An' you know what come next, hey?

Well, de next t'ing I know she callin' me! She callin' me all de time!! She go back to de States an' she callin' me!! She sendin' she friens to see me. I fucks dey, an' she still callin' me!

An' what I 'posed to do? I got de new women to tend wit', you know? Every week, new women on dey honeymoon, new women on dey vacation. I live in paradise, you know? I part of de island. I part of de tradition, de ambiance, de mystery. My little man leavin' dem wid de memories an' dey go home feelin' nice.

So dis girl Cynthia, she come back to de island, an' she don' bring she husband. She come back time and again, say she wan' surf de kite. I given she my little man over an' over, from de back, from de front, from de mouf. She like me, you know? I don't t'ink too much on it, mon. She buy me dinner. She buy me clothes. She tip me well. I given she de little man ever' which way. Everybody happy.

One time she buy me ticket to de 'Nited States. I meet she in Miami. Dey catched us making de hot an' nasty in de sand one night an' dey taken us to jail. She buy she way out and den she go to buy my way out, but I no citizen, so dey send me back to Aruba. I don't t'ink she husband know.

I try an' tell she I got de other women to tend wit', every week de other women. Married, single, black, white, fat, skinny, big pussy, l'il pussy. She say she don't care. She say she wan' me be she man. What I gon' do, you know?

So de other day she call and she say she kick de husband out. Now she wan' me come to 'Nited States and live wid she. In de cold an' de snow!! Just she an' me!! Who de FUCK wan' do dat?

I tell she I gonna come, but I not.

FUCK dat.

Artie Jay: I started this narrative five years ago. I could not have imagined then a sadder outcome than has now occurred.

As you know, I met and bedded a beautiful girl, Lisa Winchell, at my friend Kevon's wedding. At that same wedding I was stunned to find that a love I'd long suppressed remained a burning flame. Teralynn House was my soulmate, the pride of my heart, my friend and confidante. I had to choose between them. I chose.

At that same wedding, Lisa became pregnant with my firstborn, a boy she named Nigel. She waited until his birth to inform me of the pregnancy. Nigel is four years old now. Sadly, I've been put in a position where I'm forced to choose between my woman, Teralynn, and my son, Nigel.

Terry and I got along famously until Nigel came along. I am an only child. Nigel is my only son, as I've said. As such, I've put my life on hold for his benefit. Terry, childless and one of many in her family, cannot fathom my devotion to my son. I have to travel regularly to visit him, to make him understand that his father loves him and wants to be a part of his life. I feel a drive, a compulsion, to spend time with him.

My relationship with Teralynn has since become tenuous. Fragile. Non-committal.

As our relationship has foundered, I'm finding myself more and more attracted to my baby's mama, Lisa. She cooks for me. We talk. Many men find baby mama drama to be a huge thorn in the ass. Lisa breaks that mold. When I visit my son, Lisa plays her 'mama' role perfectly. We don't have snippy cold wars or arguments over money. She listens quietly to my complaints about Terry with never a bad word. Sometimes she takes me out to dinner. We enjoy each other's company. As you may guess, on a couple of occasions I've faltered and approached her for sex. Like any good mother, she declined. I ended up respecting her more for her principled stance. She's a good woman.

I don't know how much longer I can take this.