Carrie Washington Consulting

Carrie returned home from the honeymoon pregnant. You still worked as a secretary, and she'd hired Cassie to be her vice president.

You nervously poured Carrie's coffee, as she hiked a foot up on her desk while on the phone, exposing purple panties. Her belly bump was getting clear.

"You know," she said, smiling coquettishly. "There was a time seeing those panties would make you dive in."

"Fair point ... but that's when you were unmarried. And we were dating."

"Touche," she said. "But I think you have a secret to spill." You flushed hard. "You're dating someone. A man."

"Yes," you admitted. She patted your head. "I may have a broke gaydar, but I eventually figured it out, seeing how hard you were around my King. That's a good sissy, finding her man."

Cassie came in. Her marriage to the older jazz musician, Marvin, was scheduled for three months from now. But at four months pregnant, she was even further along than her sister.

"Look at us all," Carrie said proudly. "Three bitches for our Black Men." You all giggled.