Chapter 8
PUMPKIN
Pumpkin could not get his leg to stop bouncing.
He’d been through worse. The number of surgeries and procedures he’d endured following his motorcycle accident had been astronomical.
Additionally, the pain had been the worst he’d ever endured, not to mention his fear of getting addicted to the strong pain medications.
And yet… Getting his—what the fuck was it called again?
—his vas deferens snipped seemed so much worse!
He didn’t even know what the fuck a vas deferens was or where it was located. He knew it was under his dick, but that was about it. Anytime he tried to look it up, it wigged him out so much that he couldn’t bear to look or think about it.
Jesus. Why was he doing this? Shit, right.
Dosia wanted him to do it. And fuck him because he wanted to make her happy.
He loved her, and she’d given him so much.
Not to mention that she kind of had a point about condoms and his super sperm.
Three failed condoms? Because he sure as fuck used a condom with that bitch Cheryl.
And yet, clearly condoms were no match for his super sperm.
Fuck him up the ass without lube. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
Men got vasectomies and survived it all the time.
If it wasn’t a safe procedure, they wouldn’t offer it.
Or they’d do it at the hospital and admit him.
Which he was still unclear why they weren’t?
Was it really safe for him to go home afterwards?
Maybe he should consider hiring a home nurse to help take care of him for the next few days.
He really didn’t want Dosia to have to do it all on her own, especially with SJ’s birthday party in two days.
But she was insistent that he could still get his…whatever the fuck it was called snipped and SJ would still have an awesome party.
Dosia was sitting with Paige. Both were laughing over something in a magazine they’d found on the couch’s end table.
Why the fuck did they look like nothing major was about to happen?
How could they just sit there so calmly while Pumpkin’s balls were shriveling up inside him in utter fear of what was about to transpire?
Maybe if they shrank enough, the doctor wouldn’t be able to find his… vas thingy.
Then again, the amount of sex he and Dosia had had over the past three nights since she’d sprung this on him was record-breaking. It would be a wonder if he had any sperm left inside him. Maybe he’d been able to fuck his way out of the procedure. No sperm, no need for a snipping, right?
Demo coughed next to him. “Just say the word and I’ll provide a distraction so you can make a run for it.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Dosia said from across the aisle. She didn’t even look up from the magazine Paige and she were looking at.
Was it a testament for or against his manhood that he was still considering it, though? He scratched his beard to try to clear his nerves. “She’s fucking serious about this, man. She even shaved me this morning.”
Demo’s confused eyes went to Pumpkin’s beard, and then they landed on the zipper of his jeans before he flinched away. “Oh, dude! I did not need to know that!”
Paige, though, laughed. She lifted her head from the magazine to look at Dosia. “Really?”
Like the cat who caught the canary, Dosia beamed. “Hell yeah. Had him lay on the bed and put his knees up. Mind, I had to blow him to get him to relax enough to—”
“Hey!” Pumpkin called out as Demo plugged his ears like a child and started singing, “La-la-la-la…” really loudly.
Dosia just winked at him.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he said, pointing a finger at her.
“So much,” she agreed before blowing him a kiss. Then she reached into her purse. “I brought an extra jockstrap for you just in case.”
Pumpkin was about to jump and say, “Fuck this shit!” when his name was called. His blood turned to ice, and he physically felt his cock and balls shrink up even more.
Dosia stood. She went up on her tippy-toes and kissed his cheek. “You got this, baby.” Then she slapped his ass and pushed him towards the nurse.
Pumpkin had no idea how he managed to put one foot in front of the other.
His balls were screaming at him to turn around, but God-fucking-damn it, he did love Dosia.
He could man up. He could. He could give this to her.
Besides, three kids was a lot. Was it worth her health and safety to have a fourth kid?
If his super sperm was strong enough to break through condoms, what hope did an IUD have?
Somehow he made it to the nurse and the open doorway that would lead him to his balls’ doom. “Um, my fiancée said to remind you that I want the general anesthesia, not the local. I even brought my friend with me to help her get me out to the cage—I mean, car—afterwards.”
The nurse, who couldn’t be an inch over five feet, just stared up at him with raised eyebrows. Then she looked around him to where Dosia, Paige, and Demo sat, and shook her head at them.
“Trust me, Mr. Andrich, you’ll be fine with just the local.”
Pumpkin, though, frantically shook his head. “No, I want the knockout stuff. Completely unconscious.”
“Not going to happen,” the nurse said, her voice a little sterner. “Let’s get going.”
She waved her hand down the hall. Pumpkin felt like he was being walked to the gallows.
SJ was sitting on the table in front of Pumpkin. His son had a cute little party hat on his head with a giant 1 on the front. The clubhouse was decorated in a safari theme, and all the adults and teens had on beige pith helmets. The pile of presents in the corner were taller than SJ.
A corner of the clubhouse had been cordoned off with bright orange polyethylene fencing and the giant suds machine Pumpkin had rented.
Despite it being winter, the kids were all in bathing suits as they ran through the foamy soap.
They’d only lost a few babies that the adults had to go in after, much to the children’s delight.
Pumpkin was trying not to bring the elation of the party down, because fuck, his balls hurt.
He’d tried to bribe the doctor to give him general anesthesia, but even that had failed.
That psycho sadist doctor had him laying back on a table, completely aware and awake, while he took a scalpel to Pumpkin’s balls!
Also, thanks to his new stitches, Pumpkin now knew exactly where his vas deferens were—and apparently he had not one, but two!
Fuck, his entire groin area hurt. As a former boxer, he was used to having to wear a jockstrap. He wasn’t wearing a cup now, though he felt like he should have one. Even walking was painful. He had a bag of frozen peas shoved down his pants and an ice pack under his ass in the chair.
Dosia seemed to be getting a kick out of his pain, which made him wonder if he was marrying a secret psychopath. She was taking good care of him, though. And she was growing his kid inside her. And she was taking care of their other two children.
Damn it. He could survive a little humiliation if it brought a smile to her face.
But he was never allowing her near his dick with a razor again. She had far too much fun with that.
Once all the kids were cleaned up from the soapy foam, it was cake time.
Pumpkin couldn’t have SJ sit on his lap, so he placed his son on the table in front of him.
Dosia sat beside him with JJ on her lap.
Beyond not being able to fuck Dosia for at least a week, the worst part about getting himself snipped was that he couldn’t even pick up his own kids.
No heavy lifting, and both his kids were now big enough to be considered heavy lifting.
This whole thing fucking sucked.
SJ’s Aunt Tally brought out not one but several cakes.
SJ’s eyes went comically wide at the sight of the safari themed cakes.
Tally had not made them herself. As she often proclaimed, she was a chef, not a baker.
Also, her lack of sight meant that it was difficult for her to decorate pastries and cakes with the precision many required.
So these were special ordered from Mabel at the town’s bakery, Loafin’ Around.
A larger sheet cake was placed in the center of the long tables.
On top were the silhouettes of animals, like an elephant, a giraffe, a crocodile, an antelope, a lion, and a zebra.
Several smaller, round cakes were then produced.
The birthday boy got the one with leopard spots while his younger club cousins, sister, and Scotty got other animal prints.
Cameras were pointed every which way. Most kids were left in their bathing suits for easy cleanup after the mess that was about to ensue. A lot of the dads had stripped off their shirts too, and they seemed as excited as their kids.
“Okay,” Dosia said from her seat. “We sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and at the end the kids can go wild. Ready? One… Two… Three!”
A chorus of “Happy Birthday to you” started. Pumpkin was a little distracted keeping his son from going after his cake too soon. SJ was a little too young to understand that this party was for him, as well as what his birthday actually was. All he saw was fun and cake.
At the end of the song, laughter and screams of joy rang out as the babies and toddlers went after their cakes.
Even Jenna and Steel’s grandson, Drew, was present.
Each smash cake had pudding on the inside too, making the cakes softer for the little ones.
Since most parents were busy helping one or more kid, the bulk of pictures and videos were being taken by the club members present without children.
Plus, Keys no doubt was getting the entire day on the club’s surveillance system.
SJ turned and smacked Pumpkin right in the face with a glob of pudding.
Laughing, Pumpkin wiped it off, careful of how close it was to his eye, and then ran his finger down his son’s nose, leaving behind a trail of pudding.
SJ’s laugh was the best sound in the world, only equal to JJ’s.
In about six months, there would be a third laugh that rivaled theirs.
Turning to see Dosia and JJ were as messy as SJ and him, Pumpkin leaned over, ignoring the pain in his groin, and kissed his woman. His balls might hate him, but at least she loved him. And that was worth any sacrifice.