Free Baby Love Lite by Andrea Smith Page A

enough. Fuck breast-feeding; screw
motherhood! It seemed like I'd lived with this baby attached to one
of my tits for the last several months. She'd sucked the life out
of me. Her wailing was quickly grating on my nerves like
fingernails raking down a chalkboard. I looked at her as she
writhed and squirmed on the bed, her face scrunched up and red with
anger. Her hands were clenched up in little fists.
    Something drove me to suddenly raise my hand
back and slap it firmly against her cheek. I was desperate for
something - anything to make her shut the fuck up. I just couldn’t
handle it any longer!
    The feel of my skin slapping harshly against
her soft, baby skin was new to me. It stunned her I could tell.
    Her large blue eyes widened in surprise as
she looked at me, crushed. I'd left a red hand print on her cheek.
Perhaps it was time for her to realize that in life you don’t
always get what you want when you want it.
    She wailed in response to the slap. Large
droplets of tears streaked paths down her cheeks. Good God; Trey
would probably be racing in here now to see what the hell was going
on. He hovered over me constantly these days. I finally picked her
up off of the bed to change her diaper and get her ready so I
wouldn't be delayed in getting my start for the day. She was still
sobbing and crying when I placed her on the changing table in her
room and removed her soaked diaper; she was sucking on her
fist.
    I clasped my hand around her ankles, raising
her butt up in the air so that I could put a clean diaper
underneath it with my free hand. She continued to whimper and pull
her legs back from me. God, I was so not in the mood for this
today. I finally allowed her to succeed in freeing her legs from my
grasp. She was kicking and sobbing. Her little arms reached up to
me. She wanted me to pick her up; she still wanted the tit.
    I flipped her over onto her belly, which now
provided me full access to her bare bottom. I smacked my open hand
against the bare flesh of her butt again and again. Listening to
the sound of my skin slapping her skin reminded me of the sounds
that I'd often heard as far back as I could remember. Sometimes
pain followed the sound; other times only a feeling of fear and
disgust. I looked down at the baby as my thoughts drifted back to
the present. Her bottom was crimson red from my smacks. By this
time she was shrieking in pain; her chubby legs were squirming
against the pad of her changing table trying to scoot away out of
my reach. She was scared of me.
    There, there now. . . Perhaps I'd slapped
that fucking rash right off of her butt. Trey wouldn't have a
reason to bitch at me about it anymore! He couldn't accuse me of
being a negligent mother. She continued kicking and screaming on
her changing table. Fuck it! If she wanted to lay there diaper-less
and pitch a fit so be it. I was going to get dressed.
    I left her on the changing table in her
room, and made a hasty retreat back to the master suite so that I
could find something to wear in my closet. I searched for something
sexy to wear. I wanted to look and feel sexy again, not like some
wet-nurse with tits hanging down to the knees. I found a pair of
tight jeans in my closet and pulled them up over my still slim hips
and flat stomach. I rummaged through my closet drawers and found a
sexy black top with a built in push-up bra. With my larger breasts
it, revealed a whole lot of cleavage.
    This would be perfect to wear out to the
construction site this afternoon. I had to meet with the contractor
about the flooring in the main hallway and he was ten shades of
sexy. I'd noticed how he'd watched me whenever I went out to the
site as long as Trey wasn't with me.
    Once dressed, I scooted into the bathroom to
put my make-up on and fix my hair. As I looked up into the mirror
over the sink I was startled to see the face of my mother looking
back at me from the reflection. I looked around the bathroom to see
where she was lurking.
    What the . . .?
    I turned