Double Dippin' (32 page)

“She pumps her milk out for him when she goes to work,” Tariq said, continuing to provide Shane with the damning information. “He was a premature baby; he only weighed about four pounds and Janelle’s still worried about his health. He’s cool now. Healthy as a horse. But she insists on feeding him breast milk—says she doesn’t want him drinking anything that doesn’t come from her. Man, I can’t do anything with Janelle. You know how she is—hard-headed.” Tariq looked at Shane intently and repeated the question. “So, what do you think I should do, man?”

Shane squirmed. “Yo, that’s between you and your wife. I don’t know shit about that type of thing.”

Tariq sighed. “I hope my son is drinking regular milk out of a glass by the
time he’s two,” Tariq said with a sigh. “All this breastfeeding might turn him into a fruit,” Tariq said, frowning. He gave another sigh, which Shane interpreted as the end of the excruciatingly uncomfortable breastfeeding topic.

Shane gathered and boxed their foster mother’s clothing. “I’ll just give Mom’s stuff to Goodwill,” he told Tariq. He picked up her Bible. “This goes with me,” he announced, holding up the worn Bible with reverence.

Tariq scowled. “You just called Miz Holmes,
Mom
. I’m still trying to figure out when you and Miz Holmes got so close. You acted like you couldn’t stand her around the time that social services got involved. And when I told you she had done time, you fell out laughing like it was a big joke. What’s the story, man?”

“It’s a long story, Tariq. Put it like this…I didn’t appreciate all she did for us back when we were young bucks. Being older and wiser, I recognized what I put her through, so I did my best to make up for it. That’s all I can say on the subject.”

“You’re full of surprises, man. Who would have ever thought you’d be such a softy. I mean taking in an old woman and looking out for her like she’s your natural mother. Man, that’s something special.”

“
She
was special,” Shane replied as he recalled how his foster mother had told him not to worry himself about what they were doing. She said it wasn’t wrong; that it was just different. He believed her. But he knew there wasn’t a living soul on earth who would understand how badly he needed her. As she did, he’d also take their secret relationship to the grave.

Carrying three large boxes from the Rose Moving Company, Shane moved his belongings into Kapri’s apartment.

Married life was pleasant—blissful. Shane worked as many days as he could, but often there were more men than available work. His lack of regular employment didn’t affect their lifestyle since Kapri still worked full time.

Shane was fascinated by her growing belly. That his seed had caused her stomach to swell with life was amazing. He kissed her tummy, he sang to the
baby, and he rubbed her feet when she was tired. Shane was every woman’s dream husband. And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t acting. Shane was a man in love.

One night while making love, Shane’s lips traveled to Kapri’s ever increasing bustline. “Baby, I love your titties.” He covered her breasts with his mouth, kissing them and softly sucking her nipples. Heaven couldn’t possibly feel as good as Shane felt at that moment.

“Oh baby, don’t do that,” Kapri said in a pained voice. Grimacing, she gently nudged Shane’s head away. “My breasts are so tender, honey. It hurts when you even touch them.”

Hiding his disappointment and his hurt feelings, Shane wore an impassive expression. Being denied something he craved caused a feeling of anguish that was almost palpable.

His own mother had frequently denied him her breasts, and the sensation of having a nipple withdrawn from his lips was a familiar stab in the heart. His mother had not loved her twin sons equally. She’d shown Tariq tenderness but did not hide her disdain for other son. The memory of her contempt made Shane furious.

Rationalizing the anger he now directed toward Kapri, Shane convinced himself that he deserved a reward for trying to live a normal life. For months, he’d controlled his urges—his overpowering desire to seek out women with big titties. And he’d done it for the sake of his marriage. Kapri was an ungrateful bitch and had a hell of a lot of nerve pushing him away. His resentment toward his wife distorted his facial features.

“You okay, baby?” Kapri asked when Shane ceased all foreplay, moved away from her, and sullenly sat on the edge of the bed. Picking up the remote, he clicked on the TV.

“Yeah, I’m cool,” he said, but the air was tense.

Kapri inched up behind Shane. She stroked his back, rubbed his arm, and massaged his scalp, but Shane ignored her efforts to get him back in the mood.

“Since everything on you seems to hurt, why don’t get on the mic?” he said crudely. He didn’t move a muscle nor did he so much as give Kapri a fleeting glance. He kept his eyes focused on the TV screen.

Kapri winced. “I didn’t say everything hurts, Shane. My doctor said we can still have intercourse. My breasts are sore, that’s all,” she said, now running her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings; you know I didn’t mean to.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding but Shane refused to look at her.

He yanked his head away from her wandering fingers. “Cut it out—that shit feels creepy.” He could feel Kapri stiffen.
Good
, he thought to himself.
Now you know how it feels to get your feelings hurt.
“You gon’ get on the mic or what?” His tone was gruff—impatient.

Looking close to tears, Kapri slowly got out of bed, walked around the bed, and paused in front of Shane as if waiting for him to say something. He was silent. Kapri picked up the remote and turned off the TV. Shane still refused to talk or look at her. “Shane,” she whispered pathetically.

“Yo, if you ain’t givin’ up no head, turn the TV back on,” he bellowed.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Kapri awkwardly struggled down to her knees and orally pleased her husband.

As the pregnancy progressed and regular intercourse became uncomfortable, Kapri found herself on her knees on a regular basis.

Bored with his home life and unforgiving of his wife, Shane was rarely at home. When Kapri questioned him, Shane would defiantly refuse to account for his whereabouts.

Night after night, he cruised around in his wife’s Mazda. Shane became a regular at all the hottest night spots in the city. No longer faithful, he picked up a different woman every night. After sex, he always found a way to get paid, usually by requesting a loan, knowing he’d never see the woman again. And when a woman didn’t willingly press money against his palm, Shane would steal it.

Shane wasn’t giving out any more free dick…or love. He loved only his brother, his nephew, and his unborn child. He planned to stay with Kapri for the sake of their child, but the love he’d felt for her was gone.

One night while out on the prowl, he found himself missing his old lifestyle
and decided to look up Misty and Brick. He figured they’d moved on from the house where they’d been renting a room, so he swung by Misty’s mother’s house in West Philly.

“They ain’t here,” Misty’s mother said, scowling at Shane and rotating her neck. “Misty’s little ass is locked up for mail fraud and I don’t where that damn Brick is. He could at least help pay for some of these damn collect calls she keeps making. You best believe whatever scam Misty was involved in, Brick damn sure had something to do with it, too. If you catch up with him, tell him I said, he ain’t shit!”

Shane was deflated by the news. Misty had probably gotten popped for blackmailing Paula. But as bad as he felt for Misty, he didn’t want to be implicated in the scam, so he turned the car around and sped out of West Philly. The last thing he needed was a federal case involving mail fraud.

More depressed than ever, Shane drove around feeling like a lost soul. He had some extra cash in his pocket, so as a last resort, he decided to check out the broads at a downtown strip joint called Phat Philly Girlz. Upon seeing the blinking neon sign that advertised the titty bar, Shane felt somewhat uplifted. He parked the car and strolled into the club.

“My name’s Aisha. You dancin,’ handsome?” asked an attractive and very busty light-skinned, damn-near-white dancer. Her blonde braids trailed down to the back of her knees.

“Naw, I’m trying to get into something extra. Whatchu doin’ later?”

“We can work something out. You got a place?”

“Naw, but we can get a room. How much you talkin’ about?”

“Hundred fifty—plus the cost of the room.”

“Ain’t no thing,” Shane said, giving the dancer a nonchalant shrug. “I gotchu. What time you get off?”

“Shit, it’s dead tonight; ain’t no money up in here. We can leave as soon as I change into my street clothes.”

“Aiight, I’ll be out front in the blue Mazda.”

Aisha slid in beside Shane. “Try that hotel in North Philly—on Broad and Ridge. They charge by the hour.”

Shane paid the money for the room and was given a key to room number
six. The room was sparse, but had clean sheets, which was good enough for his lustful intentions.

Shane’s hands went straight to Aisha’s big boobs. But the instant he touched them, he jerked both hands away as if he’d touched burning coals. “Yo! Whassup wit them jawns? Why they all hard and shit?” Clarity hit him and his eyes went cold. “They fake, ain’t they?”

“Implants,” she said without shame. “And they cost a fortune,” she added, sounding extremely proud.

Shane scowled.

“Suck ’em,” Aisha offered. “My nipples are real sensitive.” She fondled her breasts invitingly and moistened her lips with her tongue.

Shane felt disgusted. “I ain’t suckin’ shit. Fuck that. I’m out!”

Aisha reared back as if Shane had slapped her. “You took me off my job, so you better pay me my damn money!” Aisha jumped off the bed and took a confrontational stance. She was a tall girl; her breasts poked him in his chest.

Shane’s face tightened and then contorted into an evil grimace. “Yo, if you don’t wanna have to scoop that slimy silicone shit up off the floor, you better back the fuck off. Matter of fact, bitch…give me back the money I spent on this room,” Shane demanded and stuck out his hand.

Aisha cupped her breasts protectively. Her eyes stretched open wide at the thought of having her implants punctured. She quickly whipped open her purse and gave Shane twenty dollars.

As he was leaving, he heard the distraught dancer asking the dude at the front desk to call her a cab.
Fuck that fake bitch!
He felt no pity for the dancer as he rapidly left the seedy hotel.

Driving past the speed limit and feeling a familiar rage, Shane headed home. He had a bag of weed and a blunt inside his pocket. He hoped Kapri would be sound asleep by the time he got home. He wasn’t in the mood to hear her mouth; he just wanted to get high and go to sleep.

But Kapri was wide awake. “Shane, where have you been? It’s two in the morning!” Shane gave Kapri an evil look. “Stop trippin’,” he said grumpily.

“Trippin’!” Kapri yelled. “You think I’m trippin’ because it bothers me that my husband stays out until all hours of the night—every night?”

“Kapri,” Shane said in a controlled tone. “I was taking care of something for Tariq.”

“Tariq is home in bed. I already called and woke up the entire household,” Kapri snapped.

“Well, stop checking on me!” he yelled. “This is between me and Tariq. He ain’t gotta tell you what I’m doing.” Then softening his tone, Shane said, “Look, baby. I’m sorry I was out late and didn’t call. But my brother needed me to do something. I’m not gonna let Tariq down. You know how I feel about my brother.” Shane hugged his wife.

After she was sufficiently calmed, Shane didn’t even ask, he just pulled her to the side of the bed. With her enormous belly, Kapri could no longer get down on her knees; she had to sit while she gave Shane oral sex.

“What’s going on with Kapri?” Tariq asked Shane a few days later while they were at work.

Shane looked bewildered. “I don’t know. What did she say?”

“First of all, she called late last night and woke up Janelle and Lil’ Man. Janelle was furious. Then when I called to check on her thing this morning, she growled at me like I’ve done something wrong. She said if I need you to do something for me, would I at least have the decency to make sure you get home before midnight.” Perplexed, Tariq cocked his head to the side as he waited for an explanation.