Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 08

"Bitch, I ain't even gotta say it this time."

I hopped into the backseat with Vicky right behind me. Tressie sat behind the wheel with her sleeveless blouse on, but the brassiere still around her abdomen otherwise nude. I stared daggers at Vicky starting to get dressed but she snatched my pants raising a fist.

"Don't cry on us man; it was just part of the initiation."

"Oh yeah; did you do that shit to those two moist brothers?" I recalled the equally irritating couple, Deidrick, and Cedric.

"Yeah, they didn't care though."

Vicky snatched my shirt tossing it onto the front seat. She straddled me getting a reaction in moments as I started to breach her steaming quim. She arched her back completing her impaling. This was her version of an olive branch as my hands slid across her derriere.

"This doesn't change anything; I still hate you."

"I know." She moaned giving me a deep soulful kiss, grinding my cock up in her simmering honeypot.

I was grinding back into her seconds later while Tressie wearily made herself decent. We forgot about her after a while. Vicky fucked me all the way home.

Despite the constant trolling, outright bullying and public humiliation; this was one of the best days in my life. Tressie stopped two blocks down from my home so I could get dressed, but I had a hard time looking away from Vicky's face. She looked amused still bottomless casually reclining there while Tressie touched up her makeup in the rear view mirror.

"Man you keep staring; you falling in love, simp?"

"You know what that shit means, right?"

"Suckers idolizing mediocre pussy; so what?"

"Exactly." It took her a while to figure out my meaning, but the following slap to the face signaled her awareness of my underhanded burn. Tressie found it all too amusing staring at us collectively between the front seats.

"You two are so cute together."

"Shut up Tressie." I looked out my passenger side window as she pulled up in front of my house. Vicky was lightly caressing my scalp as I relented kissing her goodbye.

"Yup, definitely cute; don't let Demon find out, though." Vicky shot her friend a look that made me perk up.

"WHY?!!"

"She's his girlfriend." My stomach went sour as I glanced at Vicky looking every bit of busted.

"You mad?" She nibbled a pointer finger sitting beside me still bottomless.

I snatched up my camera bag still unable to tear my eyes away from her stunning beauty. Internally I was juxtaposing Tressie's horrific freckled albino of a brother with the goddess staring nervously at my face waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"No, I'm good." I got out of the car slamming the door behind me.

"Call me." Tressie sped off into the night leaving the shallowest echo of her voice in the distance. I stood there watching the semi-empty streets pondering what occurred and the likelihood that my life might be in imminent danger.

"Hate you." I whispered trudging into the house only to find my mother waiting, garish bathrobe and rollers favoring a belt. I avoided corporal punishment but was "grounded" much to my chagrin.

**************

The situation with Vicky Stone left a bad taste in my mouth over the next two days as I generally played the role of a lay about son around the house. My mother made sure to give me supposed hard labor while admonishing me more than once about getting "mannish" towards Tressie Fisher. Of course it was futile trying to plead my case due to Ms. Fisher being as pure as the driven snow.

Mom had taken the initiative to contact Tressie's mother about her whereabouts even though she was in her early twenties. Mrs. Fisher took everything in stride assuring my mother that I was in good hands before begging off further conversation. This infuriated my mother on the downlow which translated to more manual labor for me. I received a call on my second day back.

"Hello?"

"Where you been; you fell off?" It was Rashida Sikes.

"Oh you haven't talked to Renee?" At this point I knew when someone was fishing for information or gossip.

"We're talking, ain't we?"

"She told me not to call you, plain and simple." I was brief.

"So, she put you out; we not working together anymore?"

"Ask Renee?" I quipped.

"Why're you so salty; I was just thinking we could work something out together, me and you? I liked what you did last time we talked and wanted to see if we could blow up the spot some more." She was definitely fishing for information.

"Look you know she locked me out of the site we built; I mean, just hook up with her if you wanna do some more work. I've been effectively benched."

"Damn, you're mad." I was not in the mood to hear this bullshit.

"How're you doing Rashida; you good?" I knew how she'd take it, but I wanted to stick it to her without being direct. I figured she was doing the flying monkey routine for Renee for one reason or another.

"Baby I'm better than good; you being extra with it, take care of yourself." She hung up in my face, but I wasn't angry.

My bag sat undisturbed in the closet for the past two days as a biproduct of my disdain for the female species, but Rashida's call sparked a bit of interest in what might being going on outside of my social circle. I considered calling up Shawnee but relented knowing it would lead to more fishing attempts from another gossip. I considered Andre but knew that might be a dead end as well.

Thinking about his peculiar behavior finally prompted me to bring up the site on my phone. I found that new entry as well as another thumbnail with a question mark. Andre appeared in all his glory in the main window under an video entitled "Don't Hate the Player...". This told me instinctively that Renee Kelly was still going strong in this new side hustle. The house was empty, but I still locked my bedroom door.

"Hey where are you going?" The episode started in the middle of a situation with Andre standing in the corridor leading to Renee's front door still as uncomfortable looking like the inaugural clip.

"Uhm, you said I could go."

"I said-I'd tell you when you could go; and who told you to put your underwear back on?" Renee's edited voice sounded cold and clinical.

"I thought..."

"No, I do the thinking and you're not done here, okay? Were you really going to leave here in your underwear?" Despite towering over her, Andre looked worried and bedraggled.

"I was just checking the door."

"Hey, I thought we were past this, weren't we?"

"Uh, we are ma'am." Andre replied in a half mumble.

"I wasn't talking to you."

The point of view shift in a blur giving me a shock in the person of Shawnee standing there in the corridor. She was wearing this XXL peach colored hoodie with matching adidas leggings and white sneakers. I chalked her attire up to Renee's omnipresent influence as she looked equally befuddled. An expensive Sherpa tote was hanging from her shoulder.

I chaffed internally at Renee's innate ability to bend people to her will. Shawnee threatened me in the past regarding Andre, but now bent over backwards for a woman she barely knew. I didn't know the catalyst for this decision and didn't want to find out.

"I didn't say nothing; I ain't got nothing to do with him acting like that!" Renee got closer to Shawnee who looked apprehensive when her pale hands appeared in frame cupping her chubby cheeks.

"Do you mind if I talk to him alone, or do you want to remain here, and watch?" I cut the clip before I could find out what happened.

I searched the related social media accounts finding that Renee's popularity eclipsed Rashida and Shawnee's in leaps and bounds. I noted that a single photo of her existed on Shawnee's page. It was taken from a distance intentionally blurred enough to obscure any pertinent details of her visage. She didn't have a stage name but coyly titled the pic with a single question mark.

Her disguise was jarring from a distance, but those decadent curves gave her away to people in the know. There were thousands of fans begging for more, even offering to be "disciplined" on camera. The thought of texting my cousin came into play, but I knew Renee's playbook at this point. Before, she'd resorted to using Jaquan to punish me after being personally outed in her business. I hit the clip again.

"I don't care; do whatever you want!" Shawnee was seen briskly leaving the apartment, hoodie over head slamming the door behind her. The camera turned towards Andre standing there wide eyed.

"Oh man, I am so sorry about that; are you okay?" Her tone skewed maternal.

"She's gonna be okay, sometime she be mad and stuff."

"I'm not talking about her; I'm worried about you." Her hand appeared in frame cupping his cheek in similar fashion before dropping out of frame as they traversed the corridor to the living room.

"Me, uhm, I'm good miss." The point of view dipped low in frame revealing her hands already in custody of his endowment. Renee encircled his base with three fingers while her other was giving him measured long strokes. She wasn't going to wait one minute after Shawnee was gone, immediately handling her favorite toy.

"Yeah, you're good alright." I was surprised when she began spitting loogies all over his crown starting to go faster with audible slickness.

Renee continued doing this until his purplish head caught the light, glistening. A jarring jump cut followed. She switched perspectives this time as it was apparent Andre was wearing a head mounted camera. I was treated to a view of Renee in this sort of sheer decorative kaftan that left nothing to the imagination other than what appeared to be a shiny black, micro G-string. Her disguise including the deep smoky eyeshadow behind the thick glasses gave the situation a sinister atmosphere.

"You need somebody that appreciates you; need someone who can appreciate a big piece of meat. Someone who knows your worth, someone who compliments and enhances you, baby. You need someone who can take care of you."

Renee was practically curling Andre's huge dong while talking him up between repeated hocks of saliva that intermingled with his precum. His member looked unreal, mistaken for a prosthetic if you didn't see him nude.

This was a different side of Renee composed, calculating yet wholly feral on another level. I didn't recognize this woman; hadn't since the night she went to the concert with Jaquan. This new version of Renee Kelly, esteemed baby mama number two was, detached.

His cock disappeared between her lips about a third as her fingers caressed and stroked the thickening shaft. It was mind numbing seeing this usually uptight, urban goddess actually pleasing this man with no motion wasted. I was reminded of the last time we slept together on that air mattress in her living room. Renee had come in the early morning darkness of the am, intent on fucking me into unconsciousness. Hours earlier, she'd cried in my arms over my cousin before disappearing into her bedroom.

"AAAAAWWWWW SHIT!! AWWWWW FUHHHHHHKKKKK!!" Andre lost it in dramatic fashion as the camera started going into shaky cam territory. Renee was literally sucking the black off of his cock now using a stroking twisting motion up and down his shaft. She taken his girlfriend's technique, refining it to her unique tastes.

Yeah Shawnee Thompson aka Ms. WTF was one of the few able to throat Andre, but Renee Kelly was on a whole other level altogether. The sounds of her slurping and vacuum sucking replete with gasping pauses, sent jolts to my cock through the headphones covering my ears.

"AWWWWWWWWFFFF-FUH-FUUUKKKKKKK!!" His lower back arched up, driving his cock into the back of her throat with the force of a battering ram.

Renee coughed profusely hocking up the big, spade shaped head of his member cupping a hand under her chin. Her free hand was a blur of motion pistoning his meat like a jackhammer. I just about lost it as she leaned forward hovering over the head drooling a foamy mess all over his member and her fingers. She was working sloppy, even blowing gooey bubbles on his cock.

"WHAT'D I TELL YOU ABOUT THE FUCKING DICK, HUH NIGGA?!!" Renee scolded.

"SUH-SORRR...!!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP JAQUAN!! SHUT AND GET IT FIXED!!" I caught the Freudian slip which oddly gave me a glimmer of hope that we might one day see the return of the original Renee Kelly. I couldn't tell if she caught the subconscious admission, but she went back at it hard, even raking her teeth across the head of his penis.

DAAAAMMMM, AAAHHHHHH SHIT!! AH SHIT!! AH SHIT!! AH SHIT!!" It literally sounded like her mouth was being plunged as she knelt between his legs going for broke. Her fists covered the head entirely and encircled the base of his member as her tongue flittered out teasing the middle of his shaft.

"I'VE GOT SOMETHING FOR YOUR SORRY ASS!!" Renee ripped at the V-neck of her kaftan tearing savagely until her large breasts appeared. She wrapped those milky tits around his baton sized cock interlocking her fingers.

I felt pangs of jealousy well up inside me unexpectedly as Renee gave Andre the tit fuck of a lifetime.

She was kneeling upright sitting on her haunches, bouncing wildly. His member was flushed, almost burgundy from the continuous stimulation and friction. Renee went at him so intensely that one of her shoulders emerged from the ripped up material of her kaftan.

Renee suddenly throated a good half of his cock for a few seconds before gagging and withdrawing hand covering her mouth. The thick mascara masking her eyes was running down her cheeks in streaks. Andre groaned and mumbled gibberish in this animalistic growl that caught me by surprise.

"I'M SORRY BUT I GOTTA FUCK THE SHIT OUTTA YOU MA'AM!!" This was unexpected.

Renee looked surprised as well, flinching backward as if she were going to scurry off on all fours but remembered herself as Andre's large golem-like hands appeared in frame grabbing her waist. The crazed mumbling, half laughter continued as he drove himself home inside her with impunity. The first thrust looked painful with his exposed half bending a little, then all of his thickened shaft disappearing inside up to the balls.

Her waist looked especially tiny in frame contrasted with the perfect inverted heart that was her fifty inch derriere. Stereo quality claps of flesh on flesh filled my speakers as Andre began the long, arduous process of beating out the back of one Renee Kelly, jack of all trades including porn director; master of none.

Cognizant of maintaining her anonymity, Renee used the billowy dress to hide herself from the waist up, covering her head completely. Thus, esteemed baby mama number two was transformed into a disembodied lower half. Her screams of pain and pleasure caused me to fumble with the volume on my laptop.

This usually timid giant was plowing the stiffness and attitude out of her big pale ass with pelvis shattering blows. His mounted camera was catching everything in exquisite detail as Renee creamed all over his member in a thick milky discharge not far from her skin tone.

Andre was making those cheeks clap like a boss as he took it to his tormentor, finally pushed too far. I actually felt bad for both of them; her for getting rodded out and Andre for what would inevitably follow. Renee Kelly definitely wouldn't be walking right for a week, if not a month. The guy was doing everything in his power to leave an impression that would last.

"AHM, FINNA CUM!! FINNA CUMMMM!! AWWWHHHH!!" Suitably warned, Renee dropped down flat into a prone position held in place by his calloused palms pressing down on her abundant ass flesh.

This guy was a jizz making machine as torrents of ejaculate glazed Renee's established fifty inches over. It was like she was being hosed down as Andre groaned and humped into her rear cleavage trying to sate himself. His veiny tube-like penis looked like a little league ball bat wedged in the crack of her ass. Renee's head appeared looking straight ahead from the camera, arms casually folded over one another.

"There's gonna be consequences for this Andre." The girl was not pleased as the screen went black with an ominous "TO BE CONTINUED" hinting at further sexual malfeasance.

"What the fuck?" I clicked a provided link to find out what she meant only to get a karmic slap in the face. Renee Kelly set up a page for herself on my original host site. The scene in question was behind a pay wall for thirty bucks.

The side hustle was real.

I was disturbed from deep thought by a loud persistent knocking at my front door. Mom was out for the day running some errands which meant probably seeing a certain male friend amongst other things. The knocking continued making me wonder if it wasn't some kind of bill collector or an aggressive Jehovah's Witness. Luckily, I religiously made sure the front and screen doors were double locked. I'd be able to see the person before they even knew I was there. I took a peek out at the front porch right as another series of heavy knocks hit the door.

"Shit." Vicky Stone was standing on my porch. It was a little after two in the afternoon but pretty sunny, so I wasn't surprised to see her wearing shades.

Today she was wearing a tube dress that went from her chest to just below her muff showing off some oiled down legs. Her short curly hair glistened in the sunlight with a cute barrette off to the side.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!" I was kind of glad to see her despite knowing that associating with her might put me on the radar of a human monster.

"Uhm, I moved in next door and wanted to borrow a cup of sugar." To emphasize her point, Vicky held up the tin measuring cup she'd been using to beat on my screen door. I couldn't help but smirk at the cuteness of the situation.

"Are you serious?" I asked as I opened the front door, leaving the screen locked.

"Yeah, I want some fucking sugar; and bring me a cup of ice water too; its hot out here!" I wasn't surprised at the authoritative tone or Vicky's entitled penchant for barking orders. I went to the kitchen smiling retrieving a plastic bottle of ice water from my fridge.

"You really wanted to borrow some sugar?" I sat down beside her on my front porch with my own bottled water.

"Come on, just let me get away with that dumb shit. I took two buses to get over here." Vicky's rather smallish looking feet were adorned in a pair of Nike flip flops. I noticed a toe ring on one of her bottom digits.

"No seriously, why are you here?" She took a deep swig draining half the bottle, pondering the question.

"Ah, I guess I felt bad because you found out I'm a thot."

"I don't care about that; I care about the fact that you're somebody's girlfriend, especially or specifically Demon's wifey. You know how fucked up that is, Vicky?"

"It's not what you think." I couldn't help looking at her glistening thighs.

"Vicky, he knows where I live; fuck, the nigga knows what my mother looks like, bitch."

"It's not what you think, man."

"Oh yeah?" I decided to be coy removing her sunglasses but found some slight bruising under her right eye. Vicky had a partial black eye that gave me pause.

"I think you're somebody's punching bag." She snatched her glasses back but didn't put them on.

"You don't know shit home boy; my brother was mad that I clipped him a couple of days ago. His little balls dropped, and his ego gave him the wrong advice. Right after we brought you home, that fool tried to jump me when I came in for the night."

I remembered the lanky teen getting a wicked sucker punch from what I now knew to be his older sister.

"Looks like he got some payback."

"Is that what you think?" Vicky pulled out her phone bringing up a pic before handing me the android. I found a pic of her sibling looking like he'd just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson in his prime.