So You Call Yourself a Man by Carl Weber Page B

it’s hard to believe you’ve never had children before.”
    I stopped walking and turned to my wife, wrapping my arms around her. “I’ve always loved children, Alison. I just never met a woman I wanted to have them with until I met you.” I kissed her gently and she smiled.
    â€œBrent, I love you so much. Do you know that?”
    â€œYes, I do, but make sure you show me how much you love me later tonight.”
    â€œYou ain’t said nothin’ but a word. Everyone on this island’s gonna know my name when I get finished with you tonight.” Alison squeezed my butt, then kissed me passionately. When I opened my eyes from our kiss, there were two black women in their twenties staring at us like we were in a freak show. I was about to say something to them, but Alison beat me to it.
    â€œWhat y’all looking at? You ain’t never seen a woman kiss her man and squeeze his butt?” The women didn’t say anything to us, but Alison’s words snapped them out of their trance.
    â€œWhat I wanna know is how much she’s paying him,” one of the women whispered under her breath to her friend, who laughed. She forgot water carries sound well, and we heard every word.
    â€œWhat!” Alison shouted. I’d never seen her react to anything so aggressively. “I know you ain’t accusing me of buying my man. You know what? Y’all gonna make me forget I’m saved out here.” Alison kicked off her sandals, then snatched off her earrings as she headed toward them. I grabbed her arm and both girls took off back the way they came. “That’s right, he’s fine, ain’t he? And he’s all mine! All two hundred and seventy pounds of me.” She struggled to get free. “Let me go, Brent. Let me go!”
    â€œNo, sweetheart, forget them,” I pleaded. It took a while, but she finally calmed down. “You all right, baby?”
    â€œYeah, I’m all right, but I’m not gonna let these skinny B-I-T-C-Hs ruin my honeymoon anymore. I’m sorry if they can’t find a good man, but God blessed me and answered my prayers when He sent you to me, and I’m not going to be ashamed of that blessing anymore.”
    â€œWell, all right. Praise the Lord,” I told her as we held hands and walked back toward the hotel. From that moment on, Alison’s whole demeanor changed, and she was no longer happy to be with me, she was with me, and God help anyone who might get in her way.
    She was so happy, all she did was chat about our future family. She’d already picked out biblical names for our children: Michael, John, Mary, Moses, Peter, and Eve. We’d raise them in the church, and not only would they be good Christians, but they’d also be good people like their mother and father.
    We ended up eating dinner at a small hotel café on the beach. Don’t ask me how many Bahama Mamas I had, but they snuck up on me. By the time the sun went down and the hotel lights came on, I was officially drunk. I think Alison was too because she pulled her chair up close to mine and started nibbling on my ear in public. It was quite obvious to anyone who walked by exactly what she had on her mind.
    â€œBaby, can we go back to the room? I’ve got an itch that needs to be scratched and I need to use your scratcher.” She guided my hand along her smooth, thick thigh, probably hoping that it would find its way between her legs.
    â€œSounds like somebody I know is ready to start working on that baby,” I teased.
    Alison couldn’t contain her grin as she whispered, “Mmm-hmm, and if we don’t get it right the first time, we’ll keep trying until we do.”
    I finished off what was left in my glass, then led my bride back to our room to consummate our marriage. We kissed and touched the entire way. If we hadn’t been in a hotel, I’m sure there would have been a trail of clothes leading to