The Other Side of the Pillow

“I love this dick. So much so that I started to recite it at the wedding in front of everyone.”

I chuckled. “Mom would have loved it.”

Jemistry started sucking me off like she was starving and it took me less than three minutes to explode in her throat. I almost fainted.

“Damn, I’m going to have to take a break before I can do anything else. You drained me,” I said.

“Nope, no damn breaks!”

She led me into the master bedroom and pushed me down on the bed on my back. Then she went over to her overnight bag, pulled something out, and put it behind her back.

“What’s that?” I asked, sitting up on my elbows.

“You’ll see. Close your eyes.” I hesitated so she asked, “You don’t trust me, Tevin? You married me but you don’t trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

I closed my eyes and waited to see what she was going to do next.

She started sucking my dick again gently, then took more and more of me into her mouth. Miraculously, I achieved another erection.

“Wow, I didn’t think I could get hard again right now,” I whispered. “Your lips are magic.”

Then I felt something strange. Her mouth started contracting in and out on my dick but not like normal. I heard a buzzing noise, opened my eyes, and Jemistry had a vibrator on the side of her cheek, causing the sensation to ripple inside onto my dick.

“Damn, you’re creative,” I practically yelled. “Oh shit!”

By the time she was done with sucking my dick for the second round, she had my ass curled up in a fetal position behind that shit. She could’ve put the top-of-the-ladder porn stars to shame with that head game.

“Did you like that, baby?” she asked after I had come again.

“You see me laid up in bed like your little bitch, don’t you?” I joked, all the while trying to catch my breath.

I’ll be damned if Jemistry didn’t act like a man on our wedding night and attempt to fuck me half to death. She had been serious about all of those sex positions. She went to work, and put me to work until I literally passed out about three AM.

* * *

We went to Sunday brunch at Georgia Brown’s about noon and sat there like two lovesick puppies. The rest of the world ceased to exist. We fed each other and talked about our future. Both of us took guesses on how much TJ would weigh when he was born. Jemistry said nineteen inches long and six pounds eleven ounces. I asked her did she realize how damn big I was. I was thinking more like twenty-three inches long and at least ten pounds.

“The Devil is a liar!” Jemistry exclaimed. “I’m not giving birth to a toddler.”

When I informed her that I had actually weighed closer to eleven pounds at birth, she looked like she wanted to pass the hell out.

“Get the fuck out of here!”

“No, I really did. You can call Mom and ask her if you don’t believe me.”

She shook her head in dismay. “If TJ is that big, I’d rather bypass even considering natural birth and go straight for the Caesarean section.”

I chuckled. “No one’s giving you a C-section that’s not needed, baby.”

“It is needed. I have to protect my pussy. Ten, eleven pounds, though? Um, no.”

“Well, missy, it’s not like you can control his size. Two things are for sure: He’s coming and you’re the only one who can push him out.”

“Like I said, C-section all the way, Big Meech,” she said and giggled. “Besides, if I push him out, his head might get all jacked up coming out of the birth canal. What if he wants to go bald one day, or ends up bald, and the shape of his head is deformed?”

“You’re tripping, baby,” I replied, scooping some eggs up off my plate. I was starved. “His head will be fine.”