by H. J. Bellus
Love, Momma
Chapter 21
Ken & Barbie
Tripp: 20 minute warning.
Lacey: Shut-up!
Tripp: 19 minute warning…move your ass, Princess.
Lacey: Suck it, captain asshat.
Tripp: I will stop & get you coffee.
Lacey: I love you.
Tripp: 15 min…now get dressed.
Lacey: Shut-up…I’m growing your kid.
Lacey: Move your ass, fucker!
Tripp
My masterpiece was finally finished. Since finding out about sweet Rose, I knew that I had to build my dream house for my two wild princesses. I really thought Lacey was going to kick my ass when she found out that I had the foundation and framing done before I told her. She accepted it with her whole heart, and it was cute to watch her squirm, thinking I would take her away from her Milly.
The past couple months, I’ve enjoyed family dinners and then put Lacey to bed, which was a piece of cake. The girl was completely wiped with the whole pregnancy thing. I had begged her to quit working, but she wouldn’t. Fucking imagine that, Lacey not listening. Then I would spend hours working on the house during the night. I hired sub-contractors that were also working around the clock on our house. I would pound nails and cut boards all the while talking to Grant, sharing all my concerns about becoming a father. A day didn’t pass that I didn’t think of what I did wrong in my father’s eyes. I didn’t have the best role model as a father, but had several amazing coaches to look up to. I just hoped that my heart would never shrivel up and hate my own child.
All of our things had been moved into the castle, and we were ready for our baby girl to enter our world and take us by storm. Lacey was starting to get the cutest baby bump, and it took everything I had to keep my hands off of her all the time. I would always want Lacey no matter the circumstances, and her being pregnant was making it worse. She was so fucking hot and ever so moody. She would scratch your fucking eyeballs out at the drop of a dime and then turn around and bake a freakin’ apple pie.
This morning was the last morning we would spend in the little cabin, and I made sure she remembered it. The patch of hair missing from the right side of my head being proof. We became one in that little cabin, when we were both broken and tortured, and we also healed there.
Now it was my job to get Lacey’s lazy little ass out of bed to leave the cabin behind. Since becoming pregnant, she was a barracuda in the mornings, just downright fucking nasty. I texted her several warnings, but knew only coffee would get her cranky little ass out of bed. I made my way into Milly’s shop to get Lacey her favorite cup of joe, and when I entered The Shop I knew I was screwed because Milly’s teeny bopper assistant was working with no sign of Milly or Willow. Fuck! I needed those girls because they knew exactly what Princess Pain in My Ass liked. I knew one thing about coffee, it tasted like shit. No, I take that back, it tasted like rotten dog shit. Well, here goes nothing, by damn if I would not go back empty handed to face the wrath of the barracuda.
“Uh, yeah. I need a Funky Monkey skinny caffeine free.” Please let this little twit know what I’m talking about. Ordering coffee could be downright ridiculous.
“Hot?” she immediately asked, and I knew I was up shit creek without a freaking ass paddle.
“No. Like a milkshake with ice,” I said as I leaned on the counter. I got this. Fuck yeah! Coffee ordering was about to become my bitch.
“Blended then?”
“Yes, blended,” I replied as my phone was going off in my pocket like two bunnies fucking. It was Lacey.
“Drizzle or no drizzle?” she asked.
Jesus Christ! Yes, drizzle. Lacey likes drizzle on her goddamn face all the time. Why not on her fucking milkshake funky chunky coffee? This is enough.
Ripping my phone out of my pocket, I dialed the shithead and when she answered, I cut her off and gave it to her. “Lacey, are you fucking kidding me on this coffee ordering shit? Milly and Willow are not here and I have no idea if you want your coffee with a side of Mai Thai Ding Dongs or with some maracas, or if you want the shit shaken or stirred. Help me out and be fucking nice about it,” I roared into the phone, as I settled down on a bar stool in defeat.
Lacey was about to rip my ass, and I would just take it like a pussy whipped husband, then order her shittin’ coffee and get on with my day. But this time I would put it in the note section of my phone to avoid this hassle in the future. I heard the faint sound of doors shutting and traffic roaring in the background, and when I was about to ask Lacey what the fuck she was doing, I heard the sound of a bell ringing and a door opening. It all came together as I turned around on the stool to face my pretty girl in the doorway. She was followed by Milly and Willow, who were carrying lots of bags and battered boxes.
“Having a bad morning, big boy?” Lacey purred as she did her sexy-ass walk over to me.
I leaned back on the bar and spread my legs to make room for her, “Yes. You see, I’m married to this really mean woman who beats me when her coffee isn’t just right. I even have bruises and scars to show from the old battleax.”
Lacey walked up to me and shut my legs then hopped up on me, straddling my mid-section. “You’re such a pussy.”
I grabbed both of Lacey’s ass cheeks and squeezed as hard as I could, which made her squeal in pain.
“Order your damn coffee so we can go to our new home.”
Lacey gave me her little defiant ‘you can’t make me do anything’ look, as she tried kissing me to take a stand.
Leaning closer to her ear, I whispered, “Order your fucking coffee now, so I can take you to our new home and fuck you on every surface and then give you a doub-lay orgasm in our new bed.”
My naughty girl’s hip instantly started to rub up and down on me. Hell! It was their favorite dance to do. I grabbed her and held her still and gave her the eyebrow. Yes, the eyebrow of ‘you better fucking listen and do as you’re told’. Lacey never liked the eyebrow, and usually junk punched me when I gave it to her, but I knew I had her at ‘fuck you on every surface,’ and I planned to do that. In fact, I had planned that for months now. I wanted to take my pretty girl on every surface I built with my bare hands. I dreamed about her tits bouncing, and her screams as I fucked her hard, while building every part of the house.
Lacey snapped me out of my thoughts when she started to order. “Jenna, I want a 24 ounce Banana Split Mocha skinny and caffeine free blended, no drizzle.”
Lacey then turned on me. “Now was that so hard, tough guy?”
“You love drizzle, baby,” I whispered down into her hair, and then the junk punch shot came.
My loud laughing only fueled Lacey’s fire. Milly sat down next to me on the stool and started in on us. “You two do know this is a place of business, not a place of dry humping?”
I held up my hands in my defense. “Sorry, Ma’am. This crazy lady just jumped up in my lap and started begging me for my drizzle. Being a gentlemen and all, I had to oblige.”
Milly went wild with my last comment. “Oh, so you are telling me that this little slut biscuit on your lap is a drizzle demon? Interesting. I remember the same slut biscuit giving me hell about being a come guzzler.”
By this time we were all laughing hard and Lacey kept saying “PMP,” which I had no clue what the hell that meant, and didn’t want to for that matter.
Milly finally caught her breath. “Are you going to tell him, or do you want me to?”
Lacey’s face flashed a guilty smile and then she said, “You spill it.”
“What the hell is going on? I can’t handle much more from you two today. Anyway, why are you here and not waiting for me at home?” I questioned, waiting for the bomb to drop. With Milly and Lacey, it was never a little boom, but more like a fucking bomb that sent the world spinning.
“Our Halloween costumes came in and Milly is dying for us to try them on, so she stopped by the cabin and rolled my ass out of bed,” Lacey said, looking up at me.
“Halloween costumes? I don’t think so, and how did she get you out of bed with no scratches on her face?” There is no way in hell that I’m dressing up for Halloween.
Milly stood up from her seat and took her momma bear stance to duel with me. She was really funny if she thought she stood a chance with me.
“It’s a group thing, and we always dress up for Halloween. It was sort of Cree’s and my first date. You guys can take Annie trick or treating around to the different businesses while Lace and I hand out candy here, and then we will all go to the lake together. You are dressing up and not fucking up the theme,” Milly barked.
I could humor her for a while. “We are dressing up together as individual families,” she continued. “My family is dressing up as the Peter Pan cast, because I love my sexy pirate, and you guys are dressing up as…” Milly tried to finish but was interrupted by the shrilling bell above the door.
It was Cree. That pussy whipped fool would be no help in fighting off the costumes. Hell! He probably thought of the idea. I swear he dressed up more than any woman I knew. He was always dressed up as some prince for Annie or as a shirtless, bacon cooking pirate for Milly. Talk about awkward walking in on Cree frying bacon, shirtless, in his low rise jeans while wearing an eye patch and bandana, while Milly drooled over him from the stool.
Cree walked effortlessly to his wife and scooped her up into a great big hug. He started whispering into her ear just a bit too loudly. “I thought we had a date. You ditched me and left me hanging all by myself in the tractor. The time is perfect, right? We should be trying.”
Milly slapped Cree’s chest, laughed off his comments and then went right back into fighting her costume campaign.
“Cree, tell your jackass cousin that we are all dressing up for Halloween.”
“Jackass, you are dressing up for Halloween. Listen to my Dolly,” Cree said, as an evil smile spread across his face. The fucker knew this whole time, and he probably had a say in my fucking costume. Cree made his way behind the counter to fix himself a cup of coffee and Milly went in for the fucking kill.
“Like I said, we will be the Peter Pan cast and you two are going to be Ken and knocked-up Barbie,” Milly squealed with delight.
Lacey pulled her face back to look up into mine to gauge my reaction. I noticed the little twinkle of hopefulness gleaming in her eyes, and I could tell she was excited about this whole dress-up costume cluster fuck. That look. Oh no, that look! Fuck! That look made me do the stupidest shit known to mankind.
“Really, babe?” I whined, hoping to pull off a last inning victory.
“Please, Tripp. Halloween has always been a favorite holiday of mine, since I was a little girl. My momma would always sneak me out of the house to go trick or treating,” Lacey said as tears started to flood her eyes.
That was it. I lost and gladly accepted the L on my record. I tried to act tough, but when it came to my wild Princess, she won every time.
“Fine. It’s a deal, but only if I get cotton candy fed to me in bed by knocked up Barbie.”
Lacey squealed in joy and wrapped her arms around me tightly. Milly fist pumped the air in victory and started chanting “We are the champions…” She rambled off some more shit clearly making up her own version of the song.
I'd eat dog shit for this girl if it meant keeping that hurtful look from ever visiting her eyes again.
***
Lacey
“When did knocked up Barbie start packing a pistol, or is that a lady boner I see staring back at me?” asked Tripp.
“Tripp, really? Grow up, douchebag,” I said with a chuckle.
“No, Barbie. You’re looking at me like you want to eat me with a side of cheese and a dab of sauce. Oh yeah, you’re after my mayo, aren’t you?”
“I've had enough of your mayo, but did I mention I'm extra happy I ordered those white polyester pants one size too small?” I asked with an evil grin spread across my face.
“So it was a lady boner I spied. Get over here and let me take care of it for you.”
My body glided into Ken’s arms, and our lips found each other’s. Just like every little girl imagined, with Barbie and Ken sparks flew and my boner grew for my hubs. Not only because of his tight ass pants showcasing his hard on and chiseled ass, but for his heart and undying love he showed for me on a daily basis. He hated his costume. He hated Halloween. And deep down it sucked for him to do family things from the trauma of his own childhood that haunted him daily. But he did it for me, which made my heart grow a couple of sizes for him. Always for him.
Little Annie came yelling for us to get a move on, so we very slowly pulled apart and now we both had boners. Tripp grabbed me and spun me around to hide his boner from little eyes. I knew he was performing his ritual of imagining the old bags from my salon naked and running wild in the streets. It always did the trick of shriveling up his junk quite nicely.
“Mom, Ken is wearing Barbie’s hot pink lipstick!” Annie squealed and then flashed a wink at us.
This was a sure sign the little shit was up to no good. Who knew a seven-year-old could be so good at holding adults hostage?
“You li’l villainous traitor,” Tripp deadpanned.
“Fight the war with me tonight, Unky, and I will take it back. “
“What war?” We asked in unison.
“The Snickers war! My dad steals them all and I'm done with his anarchy. It's a free country, ya knows,” Annie replied, with her little hand perched on her hip and her head tilted to the side.
“General, you just found yourself a soldier. Now take it back, or I will be forced to tickle you,” Tripp said as he sunk down to her level, on his knees.
Annie pranced for a few seconds in front of us, taunting Tripp. These two loved harassing the hell out of each other.
“Just teasing ya ma,” she finally yelled, then focused her attention back on Tripp. “I’m wearing a tutu, so I can kick you in the face, Unky. You better not back out of your promise.”
“Whoa! Pistol Annie, I’m on your side. I thought you were Tinkerbell, not a ninja. One day little Tink, we rule the world with Snickers and homeruns,” Trip said as he grabbed his girl anyway, and tickled the piss and vinegar out of her.
I had no doubt that one day, Annie would grow up to be a fine little hoochie who dreamed big and had no fear of failure. She was loved, and would always be loved, for who she was. Watching Tripp and Annie in front of me wrestling, reminded me of my Meatball, who would feel the same undying love as Annie from our effed up family.
The thought was so overwhelming, it made me tear up. Fuck! This emotional shit really needed to fucking stop. My badass rep was being diminished one fucking hormonal tear at a time. My little girl and I had a reputation to live up to, so this shit needed to come to an immediate halt. A loud squeal grabbed my attention. First my eyes darted to Mac, who was asleep in his swing behind the counter, and then my attention truly focused in on the noise. Annie had my beast of a husband pinned down on the floor in his white Ken costume. She was a smart girl because she had her pointy finger and pinky outstretched on either side of Tripp's throat, advising him of his rights.
“Admit it, or you are getting the neck wrench,” demanded Annie.
“Never!” Tripp quickly retorted.
“Admit you are weak sauce and nobody ain’t gonna get hurt,” Annie demanded in her glittery lime green and lavender Tinker costume.
I'd always thought Tinker was creepy as fuck and never understood why a grown-ass woman would wear a shirt with such an obnoxious little flying bitch on it. But seeing Annie dressed up as Tinker made me fall in love. Milly had personally made the outfit, and if I had to guess, she probably spent over two hundred dollars ensuring that every last detail of the costume was perfect, right down to the little jewels that framed her waist and adorned her tights.
No one ever touched Annie's hair on special occasions but me. Milly provided the accessories and always made it clear she would cut me or twat ta
p me if I didn't use them. Milly was a little thing, but when she wanted, the bitch could bring the heat. My twat was in no way desiring a tap from her. Hell, with any luck, it would get a pounding tonight. I used the big lime green bow in Annie's hair. It held all of her tiny French braids in one bundle, on the top of her head.
Tripp suddenly grabbed Annie by the waist and tossed her up into the air, sending her sailing directly above his chest. The only vision I saw was Tripp ripping her tutu and shredding her tights, Milly castrating Tripp and then beating the shit out of me for just standing and watching him destroy her costume. Common sense to the rescue. Act motherly and authoritative, Lacey, you got this shit. Lay the law down. Show these home fries whose boss.
Right when my mouth was about to open, Annie's gum flew out of her mouth, making a sloppy wet smack on the bridge of Tripp's nose. At the same time, Annie's sandal landed right in the vicinity of Tripp's junk, obviously making direct contact based on the way he howled and hunched up like a dying cat. Then, there was the obvious sound of ripping. The rip that could be heard around the world.
We all froze with fear, and then like a magnet, our eyes fell on the torn piece of tutu. Annie's eyes instantly started to well up with tears. Tripp grabbed her lil’ chubby cheeks and forced her attention up to him.
“There is no crying in baseball. Do you hear me? And there is absolutely no crying in tutu ripping.”
Annie snuffled back her tears and rubbed her runny nose along Tripp’s shoulder, and that’s when we heard the footsteps of Milly and Cree coming down the hall. Oh shit! I snatched the piece of tulle up from the floor and stuffed it down my very tight revealing hot pink hooker Barbie dress. Annie's tutu was so damn full that to the untrained eye you couldn't tell it was missing a piece, but we are talking about momma bear here folks.
