Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“Uh… What exactly are we celebrating?”
I turned around to find him standing there with his hands on his hips, his face pinched up in confusion.
“Our baby!” I exclaimed. “I know, technically, that we already know the sex, but today, I want us to have our own little gender reveal party.”
Thatch just started at me, his eyes flitting between my face, the cake, and the white balloons that were wrapped around my wrist.
“Isn’t this exciting?” I asked, clapping my hands together to really sell it. “We’ll get to pop some balloons and eat some cake! It’s going to be so much fun!”
“Uh-huh,” he said, his voice struggling to sound excited. “I mean, I’m feeling a little underdressed, but that’s okay.”
This is fluffing awesome. He has no idea what’s about to hit him.
I had to bite back my smile.
“So, uh, where do we start?”
“With the balloons!” I clapped some more.
“And what exactly do we do with them? I’m not hip to all the gender reveal trends, but I kind of thought they’d be blue for a boy. Since you told me we’re having a boy.” He cleared his throat. “You, uh, remember that, don’t you?”
I laughed. “It’s not the outside color that matters, silly. We pop them until one reveals the gender!”
Thatch nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds simple enough.” I wrapped the strings of the balloons around the back of one of the dining chairs and carefully pulled the pin the party shop had given to me out of my purse.
“Okay! Okay! I’ll go first,” I said, my voice so eager it wasn’t even funny.
Thatch stepped back a little while I pushed the needle into one of the white balloons. Once a loud pop! filled the room, I acted disappointed when nothing spilled out of it.
“Damn,” I muttered and handed the pin off to him. “Your turn, baby.”
Under Thatch’s command, the next white balloon popped and…nothing.
“Is something supposed to happen with these?” he asked, turning to hand me the pin back.
“The party store said they put pink or blue confetti in one of them.”
He nodded, completely puzzled by the whole situation—yet obviously and charmingly trying to please me—but I just kept up the act and popped the next balloon.
Still, nothing.
“Crazy, we’re down to three balloons. You sure they put shit in one of these?”
“They said they did.” I shrugged and just handed him the pin again.
Two more balloons later and still nothing.
And when Thatch popped the final balloon and nothing happened, he glanced at me with a furrowed brow. “I hate to break it to you, but whoever filled these balloons really fluffed up the plan.”
I pretended to be a little sad but, eventually, moved on to the cake. “I guess it’s a good thing I had the bakery do the same thing.”
“Huh?”
I opened the large box on the table, and inside sat a huge white sheet cake.
“Cass, this cake is white…” My husband was still so fucking clueless, it almost made me burst into laughter.
Do not laugh! Keep it together. Only a little bit longer…
I honestly had no clue what my wife was trying to achieve here, but I might as well have been a character on Lost.
First, we popped a shitload of balloons that revealed absolutely nothing.
And now, apparently, we were supposed to somehow figure out the gender of our baby—which we already knew, by the way—by staring at some white fucking cake.
I told her as much, but she was evidently determined.
“No shit, T-bag,” she retorted, irritated. “The cake is supposed to be white. We have to fluffing cut it to find out if it’s pink or blue inside.”
Personally, I was still waiting for the big moment that involved the Supercock being ready to go, but unless I was going to eat that cake off her tits, I wasn’t seeing the connection.
Cassie strode into the small kitchen area and grabbed a knife from the drawer.
“Here, baby!” she exclaimed like this was the greatest party she’d ever attended. “You do the honors of finding out if we’re having a boy or a girl!”
I forced a smile to my lips and took the knife from her hands, but deep down, I was starting to feel a little worried that my beautiful, sexy, hot wife had been abducted and turned into one of those pod people.
The Cassie I knew used to think gender reveal parties were ridiculous.
But this Cassie? With the big, creepy clown smile and the balloons and the cake and fluffing Pinterest shit she was currently peddling my way? I was certain I had never met her until right this moment.
I mean, hell, I’d made damn sure I was only wearing boxer briefs when she got back from her alleged appointment. Now, I just felt like a fucking pervert standing there with a still hopeful, still half-hard cock and a knife in my hands to cut a cake that was supposed to tell me that I was going to have a son. Which, obviously, I already knew.