I couldn't tell you how many times I've popped my baloney the past few days when Darlene wasn't around to catch me. Kept thinking of that old black man she was supposed to call for some advice on having kids. I'm not so sure what kind of advice he could tell my wife anyhow.
I mean. What's the old man going to say? "Put that dick in her deep and fuck like hell?" Steve laughed at himself.
That night after dinner, Darlene was playing the radio out on the porch listening to some country music station when I sat down on the other rocking chair with a beer in my hand.
"You want one baby?"
Darlene shook her head, no. She certainly looking like she was thinking about something as she murmured words from the song that was playing on the radio. She was rocking in her chair and suddenly stopped cold and looked over at Steve and said.
"I called him."
I took a sip of my beer than replied. "Called who?'
Darlene replied. "Called Chet!"
I stopped rockin and replied back. "You mean that old black man that owns the motel?"
"Yep. Called him this afternoon while you were out."
I was anxious to know what he said and put my beer down on the porch deck. "What he say? What he tell you baby?"
"He told me lots of things."
Fuck! I thought. "What kind of things? Tell me what he said."
Darlene reached over and turned off the radio that was playing. She stood up and wiggled her gorgeous little ass as she walked over and sat on my lap putting her arm around my shoulder.
"Chet wants to help us have a baby."
"Watcha mean he wants to help us have a baby? What's he gonna do?"
"Well, first of all he was glad to hear from me. Said he thought about me now and than and wondered how I was doin."
