
By Emmanuel Williams
What they wanted from me was that I wasn’t blind. That I drove a fancy car so I could be reliable to them. Maybe they could arrive in style. Forget what it cost me. Forget all my other assets.
Forget that I may have reason not to be who they needed me to be.
But I wanted to party, I wanted to party until I passed out in my own bed from night to night no matter who was there, because I trusted everyone present. I invited them all myself.
What I wanted was to keep children out of my apartment, I had gangsters drinking and snorting lines from dusk till dawn 4 days out of 7. And the occasional lapdance, tit flash, orgies after local karoke, I couldn’t have guessed my ex girlfriend would visit while she was at the end of her pregnancy with my first son.
Because I didn’t recognize him yet, I lost him.
What they wanted was long gone by now. I was alone and walking near the Arts district in Denver and I found her lost and DTF.
Constantly, and always in new, public places.
The one time we do it in my sister’s apartment, she becomes pregnant.
My second son.
Eli Ashley. Johnny Plowman.
My boys. Always and forever.
I saw Eli twice. Then he was gone.
I saw Johnny in Ms. Plowman’s car, held him during visitation hours, and in the family home he ended up in.
Eli won’t recognize me as his father but he’s around 13 or 14 years old right now.
Johnny is 5 years old.
They are between 7 and 9 years apart.
I have never owned a car.
I have never been married.
I never propose when I should.
That’s not the half of it.
I end up single and drowning in the bachelor’s Colorado pine tree wasteland. Eating meat I cut, burn, and shove down my throat along with the hard liquor that makes it down alongside it.
I may not have a wife but I have sisters. And since there asses ain’t married either you can bet I’m doing a lot of fucking work, carrying a whole lot of fucking weight.
I’m just glad I live with just two of my sisters instead of all 3.
I cut my losses.
One day I’ll see Johnny, I know they’ll never let me near Eli. The Ashleys don’t look positively on a father years older than their daughter. Relax, I was 22, she was 17. But we were in a relationship for years. Apparently her mother was ok with it, but her lesbian lover had all the misgivings in the world.
Are they even still together?
The butch don’t trust men.
From this woman, to the cuckold section of pornography. If they wanted you to be happy, they wouldn’t get off on their own power to keep you from it.
Let me tell you something:
I am not easy to break.
I am a motherfucking dark hero.
And I. BIRTH. MEN.
Haven’t made a daughter yet, you bitches!!
So I am a KING.
I produce nothing but heirs.
Should I marry someone and produce another heir with her, then that’s who I will leave my current and future estate to.
The one I raise personally.
The one that wasn’t stolen.
If the Ashley family can do so good without me, let them support my firstborn.
And since Ms. Plowman was unfit and I was unfit to take Johnny into our homes, then that’s a painful severance that I will never forget.
But my true heir is the one I get to teach on a daily basis for a matter of years running into decades. I will not shuck that duty lightly.
I is my fam and my fam is mine.
All I have to do is take the next girlfriend who is loyal and propose marriage. Should the lady accept, I will fight to put my next heir in her belly. Be they a boy or a girl.
I do want a girl… after all.
Either way, I must raise them. Prayerfully (and I do not say that lightly) I will be good enough, brave enough, and sexy enough to my wife that we will be together forever.
Till death do us part, if I recall a very important part of the vow…
Still. I am ready to swear fealty to the best woman I can find. All she has to be is better than my sisters.
Which, sadly, is a bit difficult.
Don’t expect me to roll over and propose to the next cat who rubs up my leg…
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH…
You kill me…
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