#Babymachine (Baby Crazy 1)

Striding out of the parking garage, I headed for the elevator up to my condo. It had been a long day of more of the same at the office. Gordon handled most of it but that still left some annoying M&A details to deal with. Sometimes, only the boss’s signature will do, get what I mean?

A couple of the Players Club guys had called me earlier about meeting up at a new strip club in town, but naw, no thanks. I had something better planned for my night.

“I do know you, Mason,” my mom burbled on. “That’s why I’m asking about your life in the big city. I can’t help but worry, especially since you don’t let too many people get close to you. That’s no way to live. Not for a vibrant and handsome man like my boy.”

“Ma,” I began with a deep heave. Damn. Were we gonna have to get into this again? “Like I said, don’t worry.” I hit the button for the penthouse. “Did you get the present I sent?”

And Rhonda laughed delightedly then.

“Yes, I did! Thank you so much for the wind chimes dear, they look and sound lovely. Can you hear them?”

For a moment, there was a melodic tinkle as Rhonda held the receiver towards the noise. And then she was back on.

“See? They’re perfect for the front porch. I can’t wait for you to come down and visit, you’ll see them for yourself.”

I sighed heavily. Seeing Rhonda about twice a year is all I can handle. The woman is sweet, but still, she’s my mom. If she had her way, I’d be living a completely different life with a wife and three kids, parked next door to her bungalow in Florida. So I ducked this time, avoiding answering altogether.

“I’m about to get in the elevator, Mom. The call might drop,” was my warning. And as soon as the doors closed, my thumb hovered above the off button. I know, ruthless. To my own mom too. But it was the only way to get off this call politely. Otherwise, I was gonna have to listen to her jabber for another twenty minutes at least.

But suddenly Rhonda’s voice piped up cheerily once more.

“Oh and Mason, if you decide to come down, you should bring the new girl.”

Full stop. The blood drained out of my face.

“What do you mean?”

But only got silence on the other end. The call had dropped, for real this time. Figures. Stupid Verizon, I was gonna buy that company, they were so shit.

But when the doors opened, my mood turned immediately. Because I have a full-floor apartment, so the elevator opens directly to my living space. And at that moment, an aromatic scent greeted my nose, making my stomach growl hungrily.

“Mason, is that you?” a lilting voice called out.

I grinned. My favorite girl was here, surprise, surprise. Loosening my tie, I called out, “No, it’s his clone coming to rob him of everything. Lock everything up woman! Nothing’s safe with the clone wars coming.”

The shit that came out of my mouth was so corny sometimes, especially when I was around Beth. The brunette brought something out of my soul, turning me into the goofiest motherfucker in New York.

But I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face, even as I turned the corner, coming to a full stop.

Because Beth was so beautiful. Cooking and humming, she moved around the kitchen in a ruffled apron which did nothing to mask those generous curves. That big butt swayed to and fro as she pulled something out of the oven. Her tiny waist was emphasized by the tight tie. And oh shit, those breasts. They swelled, huge and luscious beneath the cloth, my dick jerking involuntarily.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell is happening?

Two months after owning the sweet girl, Beth is practically living with me now. She’s in my kitchen. We share a bathroom, even though there are five in this place. She tumbles into bed with me every night, letting me stroke those sweet curves, making her mine all over again.

What the hell is going on?

And it’s changed Beth too. The girl was flushed with happiness, puttering around the gigantic chef’s kitchen that no one used until now. In fact, her entire being glowed with pleasure, the visage of a woman well-fucked and well-cared for.

“Mmm, baby. Whatever you’re cooking smells good.”

Beth looked over her shoulder at me with a sweet smile.

“Spaghetti Bolognese. It’s my grandma’s recipe, hearty and full.”

“Good,” came my grunt. “With all the sex we’ve been having, I need the calories just to keep up with you sweetheart.”

Beth giggled delightedly, the color in her face going even higher.

“Oh, so it’s me, hmmm? Are you sure about that, big guy? Who was it who wanted it twice before breakfast today? Not once, but twice,” she emphasized with a wagging finger.