Authors: Carmella Jones
Chapter 4
The rest of the work day went without a hitch. I was hot, but not sweaty. Nausea stayed to a minimum. Crime types were minimal, but newsworthy. My nightly segment didn’t have as big a highlight as the morning, but with crime it’s a double-edged sword. Someone else’s bad day basically was necessary for me to keep my job, but reporting crimes with as much detail as was available could make the streets I loved and grew up on safer.
Anthony stopped on our way to his grandfather’s house and bought a birthday card for his nephew, Ricky. When he got back in the car, he pulled a few hundreds from his wallet and had me sign both our names with a nice message inside the card. I knew his family had deep history in the newspaper business and had one of the first Brooklyn-based news stations, so I never asked much about his finances.
At the house, more of a tucked away mansion really, a lot of the family had already arrived. We got along pretty well. They got over the initial shock of Anthony bringing home a black girl pretty quickly. They were fine as long as he picked a pretty girl who could do the basics – cook, clean, and “keep” the house. We hadn’t told them yet that we were pregnant.
As we walked in the door I heard, “Is that Anthony?” in Grandfather Santino’s voice somewhere past the foyer and main hall to the kitchen and dining room.
“Yeah, Papa,” said a woman’s voice, probably Aunt Sheryl. Everyone called her Aunt Sher and she always sang old Cher songs while she cooked.
“Is Jayne with him? Tell her to come tell me hello,” he called.
“Jayne, go kiss Papa’s cheek,” the woman called toward the doorway, correctly assuming my presence.
I kissed Anthony’s cheek goodbye before I went to kiss his grandfather’s hello. As I walked through the house I passed Sheryl making her way back to the kitchen. She started singing “The Way of Love” from
Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
. She hollered for all the kids to start washing up and setting the table and the ladies to start getting the food in serving ware.
As I reached the TV room, decorated in leather and velvet like an Italian smoking room, I found the men of the family, and the boys who wanted to think of themselves as men, watching boxing. I love to cook, but this was the room I preferred to spend my time in. I think Grandfather Santino had picked up on that. He was seated in his favorite Churchill leather chair at a desk in the back and center of the room. He nodded and waved his hand for me to come around the others and say hello. I got a few small words and nods from the other men in the room as I made my way. I knew one or two would hug me on the way back after I hugged Santino first.
“Hi, Grandfather Santino,” I said, giving him a warm hug and kiss when I reached him.
I liked him a lot. He was everything I imagined Anthony would be in his golden years. Also, he seemed to have had a good relationship with his wife before he was widowed. At least that’s the impression I got from stories and photos.
“There’s my favorite girl in the house. Always so respectful, but please, call me Papa. I keep telling you, you’re family. Call me Papa, or at least call me Papa Tino,” he said firmly, but sweetly, holding on to my hand.
“Alright Papa Tino,” I said, smiling.
Then, one of the smaller children came to announce dinner was ready.
Chapter 5
Each of the aunts made Ricky’s favorite dish. Well, they each made the dish of theirs that he liked best. As they placed big helpings on his plate each aunt claimed her item was the real favorite. His cheeks were red with pinches and lipstick kisses.
The meal really was delicious, though. There were spicy olives, crostini, bruschetta, and other finger foods before the meal, but for dinner the table cloth couldn’t even be seen anymore for the sheer quantity of options and the size of each individual dish. There were tortellini and risotto dishes, and it seemed about half the dishes had sauce. I was glad the baby seemed to enjoy Italian food, but also disappointed since I couldn’t enjoy any of the wine.
During the meal, everyone kept complimenting the birthday boy and asking him about his plans for the year now that he was fifteen.
“There is a good-looking girl at school that I may finally make my move on. Mainly I want to start working in one of the family businesses,” Ricky said in his best attempt at an adult voice.
“Well, good for you, sweetie. Every man is more attractive when he is responsible and has a little more money,” Aunt Sheryl said.
“I don’t know about that. My sweet Constance, rest her soul, took my last name when I was still a boot licker. They don’t make girls like Connie any more though, I suppose,” said Papa.
“I don’t know, Papa, I found a pretty good one I could bring home,” Anthony said, giving my knee a pat under the table.
“That’s true,” Papa said, giving me a nod and smile, “but I would still say a good woman is a dying breed. Maybe a good man is, too.”
At that moment, Jerome and Donte from work rounded the corner into the dining room. They stood just inside the doorway and greeted everyone at the table. As they were about to come further in the room to wish Ricky a happy birthday they realized I was there and backed back out quickly.
Papa gave a nod and Anthony stood from his seat.
“Everyone excuse me a moment. It seems my work has followed me home,” he said.
This was even stranger than both of them being in his office at the same time. What story could be big enough to come to the Anthony’s house?
As everyone resumed eating, I excused myself to the bathroom. I really did have to go, but on the way back I tried to see if I could overhear a few details about what might be going on.
As I made my way through the kitchen after returning from the bathroom, I heard footsteps going back down the main hall toward the front door. I stood just before the turn to the hall to see if I could hear anyone say anything.
Nothing.
When I looked down the hall, Anthony seemed to be showing our two uninvited guests the exit. They shook hands and closed the door. As Anthony turned to come back down the hall I saw him take a brief look at something one of them must have slipped him in the hand shake and put it in his pocket.
I hurried back to the end of the kitchen nearest the bathroom as quickly as I could. As he passed the kitchen doorway I pretended to be just making my way out of the bathroom into the kitchen.
“Did you sneak away to meet me for a little fun?” Anthony asked.
If that is what he wanted to think there was no reason to disappoint him.
“Sure did. I thought we could sample dessert before it was served,” I said, meeting him with a long kiss and a quick squeeze of a more welcomed guest in the front of his pants.
Chapter 6
That night, we stayed at Anthony’s place. For such a tough guy, he was always turned on after a bit of family time. I don’t know if it was because after his grandfather everyone basically catered to him and that made him feel special and important, or if maybe he secretly liked the idea of me and the baby being part of his family.
We were moving into the weekend, so we were both about to be off. The weekend reporters basically covered the week’s highlights and any updates to previously aired stories. If anything major happened, prime time reporters would be called in for special news bulletins.
As he unlocked his door I went ahead and took my shoes off and carried them to the bedroom. Anthony still reflexively pulled out two glasses, and had to pause before pouring scotch in both. Instead, he filled my glass with cranberry juice with a little seltzer.
I sat on my bed rubbing my lower back. After taking a sip of his drink he sat both of our glasses on his nightstand. He took off his jacket and shirt. Then he went to the bathroom. I undressed down to my slip. As I crawled toward the head of the bed I heard him making “mm” sounds.
“My favorite view,” he said.
He was leaning in the bathroom door watching my ass wiggle as I scooted up the bed.
“Are you exhausted from the day or do you think you may have a little energy left for me?” he asked.
“I suppose I might have a little something for you,” I replied.
Pregnant or not, my sex drive always had a full tank.
He dropped his boxer briefs to the floor and his cock visibly hardened as he came to the bed. By the time I got my hands on him he was firm and ready. I stroked his dick and kissed from his lips down his muscular chest. I gave one flick of my tongue to the head of his penis and he gently pulled my head back by the hair.
“I don’t know if you should do that while you’re pregnant,” he said.
“I think I should. Besides, it helps things go more smoothly,” I said, kissing him again.
“I have a better idea,” he said, sliding the spaghetti straps of my slip off each shoulder.
He breathed in deeply as he watched the cream-colored silk fabric slowly lower against the mahogany skin of my chest. When my nipples started to appear he made his “mm” sound again. He cupped both my breasts in his hands and placed a nipple in his mouth.
“Ugh, your nipples are like dark chocolate Hershey kisses. The baby and I may end up coming to blows for your milk,” he teased.
I closed my eyes and let my body relax into his touch. He felt me bending to his influence and laid me back on the bed, still kissing my breasts. He kissed down my body as he slid my slip the rest of the way off. His head lingered at my waist. After the slip, he removed my panties and began to kiss my pussy gently. I immediately began rocking my hips as his tongue penetrated me.
“Oh, Tony,” I moaned.
I couldn’t stop gripping fistfuls of his hair and squeezing his neck and shoulders. As my legs started to tighten around his ears he sucked and tongued more quickly, trying to push me to cum. I squirmed, trying to pull back, but his hands on either side of my waist pulled my hips down deeper upon him.
He knew he was on the verge of pulling my trigger as I kept repeating “yeah” and trying to fuck his face with all I had at this point. Just before he could bring me to climax he pulled his head from my legs, leaving me squirming and wanting.
He smiled and licked his lips. Then he rolled me over on my stomach.
He came in close behind me and pulled my hips up to meet his. His dick was hard and twitching. The only divide between us slowly inched its way inside me as I let out a long moan. Once Anthony felt himself inside me until my ass met his stomach and his balls touched where my thighs and pussy came together, things began moving quickly.
His dick pulsed and throbbed as he shoved himself in and out of me. The doctor said we could make love like normal unless I felt pained or uncomfortable. Anthony knew I would always take him to the limit. We were deep dicking doggy style and his hands were squeezing my waist. After a while, he was closer to coming, too. He eased me down fully outstretch on the bed. He stayed behind me and rolled, keeping me close until we were on our sides.
His hand below me cupped and squeezed my breast. His top hand stroked my thighs and then rubbed my ass. He spread my legs and lifted my upper leg. As he held my leg he buried himself deeper into me. I added to the sensation by licking my fingers to rub my pussy. We both began rocking harder. I lay all the way back into him and used my other hand to stroke his balls.
He fucked me vigorously and I had to use my hands to brace myself for his impact. Soon the hand he had been using to hold my leg came to my lower abdomen. I arched back against him as we both began to cum.
When I woke up in the middle of the night he was still wrapped around me with his face in the back of my neck and a hand pressed to my tummy just below the belly button.
Chapter 7
I was hungry, but the breakfast options at Anthony’s were limited now that I was pregnant. My list of foods that either wouldn’t stay down or suddenly smelled nauseating grew each day. I ate one of his bagels, a banana, and cubed some cheese off a block in his refrigerator.
As I sat at the bar in his kitchen eating in the button-down he had worn the previous day I remembered that I had seen him put something in his pocket after escorting Donte and Jerome from his family house last night. I needed an opportunity to see what that something was.
For the moment, I continued to eat and scroll through messages in my phone. I rummaged the fridge one more time and found a few egg rolls that tasted even better after I dipped them in syrup. Pregnancy made normal food intolerable and unusual combinations delectable. As I made my way through his egg rolls, Anthony came to the kitchen and kissed my forehead.
“How badly will it bother you for me to have coffee?” he asked.
“You’ve always had yours black with sugar, so we should be fine,” I replied.
“Good. Black and sweet is all I want this morning. First my coffee, then maybe a little more of you,” he said as he filled the coffee pot with water and added grounds to the machine.
I excused myself to shower. Anthony grabbed some fruit and looked over the remains of my breakfast.
“Make sure my last egg rolls are still here when I get out. There isn’t much for me to nibble on here today,” I called over my shoulder.
Once I reached his bedroom, I popped in the shower to get the water running at the right temperature. As it heated up I tried to feel around his pockets as best I could.
Empty.
I saw his wallet and keys on the dresser, but nothing unusual. Whatever he received had already been put away or discarded. I made one last quick search of his drawers. They were so neatly arranged I could tell quickly that nothing had been disturbed.
I didn’t want to get my hair wet, but I didn’t have anything to wrap it in or pull it up with so I had to adjust the head of the shower and stand farther back so water didn’t hit and splash above my shoulders. When I finished bathing I wrapped the nearest towel around myself. I styled my hair as best as I could with Anthony’s comb and my fingertips. As I opened the drawer to replace his comb, I saw what Anthony must have received the night before.
A handkerchief was folded around something and had slid forward from where it had been tucked toward the back. As I unfolded the cloth I began to feel nervous, not of Anthony catching me snooping, but of what I might learn he was keeping from me.
Once the content of the handkerchief was in my hands, for a moment I was speechless. Then, I just wanted answers.
“Anthony,” I called, sitting on the bed, holding the kerchief and what was inside.
“Yeah,” he called back.
“Anthony, please come here,” I said.
I heard his footsteps coming quickly down the hall.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned.
“I am, but someone is not,” I replied.