by Imani King
“We sure do come from two very different worlds, Blaize. It’s crazy to me! Suddenly I’m choosing between the jet or helicopter?!”
“Get used to it. My world is your world now. That little bundle you’re carrying forever links us together……”
Blaize was right. It was a wonderful yet scary thought to me. How would I ever fit into his world?
“Okay, I’ve decided. Helicopter it is, Blaize!”
“You’re gonna love it, Chelsea! I promise.”
We parked the car, and Blaize grabbed our 2 small bags out of the trunk. The noisy helicopter pad was bustling with airport personnel. An important-looking man with a clipboard was just finishing an apparent mechanical check-up for us. He shook Blaize’s hand and smiled.
“Everything looks great, Mr. Simon. Have a great flight, sir.”
“Thanks a lot Sam. Your expertise is always appreciated. I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Chelsea Dixon. Chelsea, this is Sam Lewis. He’s one of the few mechanics I fully trust.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lewis.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said as he tipped his hat to me and walked away.
“Well….. this is our sled. Isn’t she a beauty? Get in lover!” Blaize commanded me with excitement.
“I don’t understand. Is this the one we’re taking? There are only 2 seats……”
“Are you looking to invite someone else along, Chelsea?”
“Yeah! How ‘bout a pilot!”
Blaize gave me the same incredulous look he gave me earlier.
“Pilot? I am the pilot! Chelsea, for god’s sake, get a clue woman!”
“You know how to fly planes and helicopters…….?”
“Of course, doesn’t everyone?”
Blaize laughed and helped me up into my seat, throwing our bags quickly into the back before taking his place at the controls.
I stared at him in awe and disbelief while he performed his start-up procedure and made contact with the control tower. He was such an incredible man. I rested my hand on my tummy and flashed him my happiest smile.
In an instant, my emotions went from sheer joy to terror as we lifted straight up off the ground, and flew over the airport. My body tensed and tightened with the increasing noise of the rotor, causing my stomach to flip-flop.
“Sit back and relax, Chelsea. Enjoy the ride! I promise you are safe in my hands.”
After a minute or two, I was able to do just that. Logic and reason took over my brain and I knew Blaize was right. I felt totally safe in his hands.
The rugged Pacific coastline was magnificent from the air. Blaize was an amazing pilot and the entire flight was so incredible I didn’t want it to end. I was now hooked on helicopter travel! In little more than an hour, we were flying low over the beautiful bay area and landing at San Francisco International Airport. Our limo was waiting for us and whisked us into the city.
We took the glass elevator up to our luxury penthouse suite at the top of the Grand Marquis Hotel. When we arrived at the room, Blaize scooped me up like a new bride and carried me over the threshold. He was the most romantic man I’d ever met.
Blaize set me down on the edge of the large plush bed, and put our bags and his jacket in the closet.
“So do you want to fuck before we go visit your dad?”
“Blaize! You’re a writer, you should know how to choose your words better than that!”
He pulled up my blouse and started kissing my tummy.
“What’s wrong with what I said?”
“Everything! No girl wants to hear the words ‘fuck’ and ‘your dad’ used in the same sentence.”
“Sorry. How about ‘Can I eat your pussy before we go meet your dad?’ Is that better?”
He pulled down the zipper of my jeans and slid them down past my hips. Then he knelt at my feet and tugged at the little bow on my panties with his teeth.
I surrendered to his oral persuasion once again, and laid myself back on the bed as he slid my pants and panties down and off onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his moist desirous mouth and amazingly handsome face.
He unleashed my highly aroused tits and buried his head in them, ravishing my nipples with his sensuous lips. Then he kissed and licked his way down to my aching clit. I loved the roughness of his five o’clock stubble up against my tender pussy.
“Chelsea, I want you to come all over my mouth for me…….my tongue, my lips. I want to drink your lovely sweet creaminess.”
His talented tongue alternately pleasured my clit and slit; striking tirelessly back and forth between the two. As I began to come he sucked and relished my wetness, driving me even harder to the height of each orgasm.
“Blaize…….. oh Blaize……suck on my clit baby!”
And he did he ever! I reciprocated by obediently coming all over his mouth like he wanted.
31
Blaize
I washed Chelsea’s sweet pink pussy off with a warm wash cloth and she purred with delight.
“Thank you Blaize. That feels amazing, honey.”
“My pleasure mon petit chou.”
“You’re calling me a little cabbage now, huh?”
“You know very well it’s just a French term of endearment.”
“I just realized the baby will be bilingual…”
“It will be unavoidable, actually. She will be brilliant.”
“She? Why did you say ‘she’, Blaize?”
“Truth be told, I have a picture of myself in my mind……… of me with a daughter. A little girl who looks up to me the way you look up to your dad.”
“Blaize, you know sometimes you say the loveliest things.”
I straightened out my shirt and put my jacket back on, while Chelsea put herself back together and kissed me on the cheek.
“So……..where does your dad live exactly? We should get going.”
“He lives at 435 Hyde Street, right off the cable-car line, in an assisted living facility.”
“I’ll call for the limo, and we’ll head out.”
“Okay Blaize, lemme just grab the bag of sweet goodies I brought for daddy.”
“You’re such a thoughtful daughter, Chelsea. You know that?” I kissed her sweetly on the forehead.
“Yes I do. Besides, I’m hoping it will help to soften his demeanor a bit. He’s probably going to try to scare you into believing he’s a tough guy. In reality, of course, he’s a marshmallow.”
“He may be a marshmallow with you, but if he’s a war veteran, he’s must be a very tough guy too. I’m sure he’s been through more than you even know. Much more than he’ll ever share with you. And I am scared of him. I’m scared I won’t meet with his approval.”
I took Chelsea’s hand as we headed out of the hotel’s revolving door and got in the car. The San Francisco weather was unusually warm, even for summer. I preferred the city when it was cloudy and drizzly. It felt more romantic, and it reminded me a bit of Paris.
Our driver skillfully maneuvered the limo through the heavy traffic of downtown San Francisco. During our ride, Chelsea filled me in on her dad’s Gulf War Syndrome.
I had never heard of the illness before then. The burning oil wells, nerve gas, and combat stress that the troops had been exposed to caused a multitude of physical and mental problems. Her dad suffered from chronic fatigue, muscle pain, diarrhea, memory issues, rashes, and breathing problems. Not to mention the loss of one of his legs from an explosive. I was right; this man was no marshmallow. He was more like The Terminator; completely indestructible.
We crept up to the top of an insanely steep hill, before rounding the corner and pulling up to the curb in front of Willie Dixon’s place. Chelsea reminded me not to call it an old folks’ home. Willie found that term offensive. I assured her she needn’t worry; I found it offensive as well.
Inside the facility, we found most of the residents eating lunch in the communal dining area. Chelsea’s eyes scanned the room for her dad. Once sh
e spotted him, she ran to his side, bent down, and threw her arms around him in a giant bear hug.
“Daddy! It’s so good to see you!” She kissed him repeatedly on the face. “I brought you a bag of your favorite macaroons and pralines.”
“That’s my baby girl! You look beautiful as always! Thank you sugar!” His eyes lit up when he saw her and got even wider when he looked in the bag.
Willie Dixon was seated in a wheelchair, sharing a small dining table with his roommate Earl.
“How ya doin’ Miss Chelsea?” Earl tipped his hat and smiled up at us.
Chelsea gave Earl a warm hug and a kiss on the top of his head.
“Earl, have you been keeping my dad in line?”
“Oh yeah! You know somebody has to!”
“Daddy, I brought Blaize up with me, so you could finally meet each other. Daddy……and Earl, this is Blaize Simon. Blaize, this is my dad Sgt. William Dixon and his army buddy Sgt. Earl Robinson.”
“It’s an honor to meet you both.” I sincerely shook the hands of both men.
I honestly had no idea what it would be like to fight for my country. I didn’t know how the awesome men and women who fought in wars endured the experience, only to return home (if they were lucky) with debilitating injuries. They were made of a stronger fabric than I.
Chelsea’s dad immediately gave me the proverbial “stink eye”; the squint and raised eyebrow of suspicion.
“So, I finally get to meet the famous Blaize Simon?! Earl, this is the rich Frenchman Chelsea’s been seeing. The one I told you about.”
“Yes, I remember. And you know what…… I think this is a family matter Willie. So I’m just gonna leave the three of you alone now. It was nice seeing you Miss Chelsea, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Simon.”
Earl grabbed his cane and got up slowly, holding onto the table for extra balance. He patted Chelsea on the head before shuffling toward the dining hall exit.
“We’ll pop into your room for a bit later, before we leave, Earl. Is that okay?” Chelsea called out.
“Sure honey. I’ll just be setting up the checker board, and sitting there waiting to beat Willie.”
“Don’t you mean waiting to cheat Willie!” Chelsea’s dad yelled across the room.
Chelsea and I sat down at Willie’s table, and there was a long awkward silence at first. The three of us just sat there looking at each other, but nobody wanted to start the conversation. Willie finally decided to jump in and take the bull by the horns.
“So Mr. Simon, I don’t mean to be rude but I think we should cut through all the polite bullshit and get straight to the point.”
“By all means, sir.”
“Chelsea has been filling my ear with a lot of talk about a phony engagement, and a fake marriage in exchange for money. Naturally, as her father, I don’t like the sound of any of that. I know I may be old and suffer from PTSD, and maybe I don’t understand stuff that goes on today, but goddammit it’s just not right! No matter how you look at it!”
“Daddy, please don’t attack Blaize like that. He’s not a bad guy.”
Surprisingly, Blaize defended pop.
“Your dad is right Chelsea. What father, who truly loves his daughter, would want her to be involved in an arrangement such as that?”
“Exactly! I can hardly open up my newspaper without seeing some story about her and you but I never even know if it’s fact or fiction. It’s confusing and it’s frustrating……and I live all the way up here……and it’s hard for me to rescue her long distance.”
“I’m terribly sorry Mr. Dixon. I never stopped for one minute to consider how my problem might impact anybody else. I’m sorry your daughter got mixed up in my scheme. I can certainly see why you would dislike and distrust me, sir.”
Chelsea was staring at me in disbelief, like I just sprouted a second head.
“Blaize, you can’t take all the blame like that. I’m not some impressionable little child. I made a decision to help you and I signed a contract in good faith. Nobody twisted my arm or put a gun to my head. And daddy, I’ve been honest with you the whole time. I know it might be hard for you to swallow but I have not misled you about Blaize’s intentions.”
I could tell Willie was totally frustrated now. Chelsea was stubbornly sticking to her guns.
“But I still don’t know what this man’s true intentions are, honey! And that’s what really bothers me! How can I help my daughter if I don’t what’s real in her life and what isn’t?”
“Daddy! Who says I need help?”
I had only just met Willie Dixon. But I was already certain of one thing: He was sharp as a fucking tack. The war undoubtedly took its toll on him both physically and mentally but his argument was foolproof; As a father, it was his duty to help Chelsea and protect her and defend her; just like he had done for his country. He understandably felt disrespected by me and by his own daughter.
Chelsea held out her ring finger to her father.
“Look daddy! See what Blaize gave me!”
He took her hand and visually examined the impressive piece of jewelry, all the while shaking his head.
“Isn’t it beautiful daddy?”
“Yes Chelsea, it sure enough is that. And I’m sure there’s nothing phony or cheap about those stones or that gold. But again, what does it represent? Besides Mr. Simon’s sizable bank account, that is. Is it just for publicity………like your relationship?”
The look on Chelsea’s face was one of defeat and self-doubt. It suddenly occurred to me she couldn’t convince her dad our arrangement was okay because she had never been able to totally convince herself of it.
“Mr. Dixon, please put your mind at ease, and know that I do love your daughter. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. And we do have a very real loving relationship, not just for publicity sake either. Chelsea and I were hoping you would join us for dinner tonight, as our guest of course.”
“Yeah pop, will you have dinner with us?”
Willie put his bag of cookies in his lap and started rolling his wheelchair back and away from the table. He was obviously discouraged and unhappy with the outcome of our visit.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think so. I don’t really feel up to it. You two go. Earl’s waiting for me to play checkers with him. He probably fell asleep by now.”
“Please daddy, I don’t want to end our visit with you feeling this way……”
“Chelsea, it’s okay. I told you, I love you no matter what. You’re my baby girl and you seem happy. I hope you truly are. The world is changing. I don’t like it, but I guess I better get used to it.”
Chelsea bent down and hugged and kissed her dad good-bye. She also asked him to apologize to Earl for not visiting more with him. Then she stepped back so I could shake his hand.
“It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Dixon. Please don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your daughter. I promise. No harm will come to her.”
“It was nice to meet you as well, Mr. Simon. Remember, I still got this one good ass-kicking leg and I’ll use it too!”
“I shall try my very best to avoid your wrath, sir.”
32
Chelsea
The visit with my dad couldn’t have gone more wrong. His undeniable disappointment shattered my world, and his words wounded me deeply. My heart was heavy with sorrow as Blaize and I took off from the airport in the helicopter. The evening lights on the city buildings and bay bridges twinkled like stars for a few brief minutes, until my eyes welled with tears and turned them into a watery blur.
Our much anticipated, celebratory dinner in the city turned out to be nothing like I had hoped. It had been anything but joyous. The 5-star restaurant and gourmet food were completely wasted on me. I ate three bites and spent the rest of the time staring at the items on my plate and rearranging them with my fork. Blaize was somewhat annoyed but understanding, mercifully cutting the meal short by requesting our check only 30 minutes into the dinner.
My mind
kept playing over our visit with daddy. What in the world made me think that I could possibly tell pop about my pregnancy today? He clearly did not approve of Blaize. Why would he be happy about me having his baby? His little girl knocked up and unmarried? Not even engaged; just a baby-mama, with no real commitment. It sure felt like happy news to me though. And it was news that I just naturally wanted to share with my father. He was going to be a grandpa! If I couldn’t tell him today, then when could I? When would the time be right? I desperately needed his blessing and unconditional support.
Back home, Tiffany tried to comfort me. She understood. Her unending love and friendship was invaluable to me. We sat on the couch together drinking our morning tea in our robes. I rested my head on her soft shoulder while she gently stroked my hair with her fingers.
“Chelsea, don’t worry, Papa Willie will come around. Everything will work out fine. You’ll see. Neither of you are wrong. You just have different perspectives, that’s all. But boy are you both stubborn and strong-willed!”
“I know. I just can’t get his poor sad face out of my mind. We’ve never been at such opposite crossroads before. I want so much for him to like Blaize.”
“But Chelsea, you know it’s only natural that he doesn’t. Most daddies don’t like any man who is replacing them in their daughter’s heart. No man will ever be good enough for his baby girl. It’s a classic age-old story. I’ll bet your mother’s daddy didn’t like Willie either!”
“I never thought of it that way, but I’ll bet you’re right. My dad was quite the scoundrel himself when he was young. Grandma probably wasn’t too keen on him.”
“Papa Willie is still a scoundrel! But I think yesterday he was looking for some reassurance of a long-term commitment between the two of you, and he didn’t hear anything that satisfied him. You can’t blame a daddy for getting bent out of shape about that.”
“That’s why I couldn’t tell him about the baby, Tiff. Without that commitment, he would have been even more upset about my situation.”
