Premium BBC: Have Cock Will Travel 3

A grey Prius was waiting for me at the rental spot next to the airport. I plunked down behind the seat mounting my phone with the location programmed. My flight was especially cramped, but necessary to keep the extra cash I've received to vet this job, no questions asked. Personally speaking, I wanted to find out who'd put me on blast. I was pretty much a private contractor living on the peripheral, between the pages.

It was late enough that I didn't have to contend with any sort of traffic as I drove down a winding highway still kind of uneasy about the job. I hadn't been to an urban center voluntarily in almost ten years. Strains of "21 Street" by Snoop serenaded my drive as my mind wandered. I had a duffel in a locker at the airport with everything timed down to the last second. There was no time to check into my airport hotel until much later after the job was completed.

"I wonder what she'd doing?" My mind drifted to an afternoon hookup earlier that week with a pretty young thing with the odd name of Yoli. She hadn't called or texted since that day, and it was surprising considering her over eagerness to make my acquaintance and excessive sexual catering all afternoon. Something about her just stayed with me; it lingered without clarity. Her sappy, elastic smile and self-depreciation read on my top.

... an intrusive memory cut into my thoughts about Yoli.

Bob Marley's "Is this love" coming out of the radio heralded something buried deep.

The smell of oxtails cooking on that busted stove filled my nostrils.

"Hey now, I just came to pick up a plate for my auntie, Ms. Etta."

"And I'm making the plate boy; just come on back here in this kitchen."

"Your grandkids in the living room."

"I know where they at."

"I mean..."

"... you trying to say something about my grandkids, boy? Are you sassing me or something while I'm back here in this hot ass kitchen making plates for them folks down there at that old folk's home that can't do for themselves? What you trying to say, huh?"

"I'm not saying anything."

"Well, I'm saying that you don't gotta say nothing about things we been doing for a minute now. "

"Uhm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Ms. Etta."

"..."

"Nothing."

"You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything, you understand; you're very special to me kinda like my own son I would've had if I hadn't had that miscarriage long time ago. You're a fine young man, so big and handsome..."

"Ms. Etta uhm, can I get that plate? I'll pay you double."

"Aw now boy, you know I ain't gonna take no money out of your hand. I ain't never gonna take no money outta your hand, cause you like a son to me, so big and handsome. That's why I do for you. You know how close you are to me, like one of my own childrens. You getting up so manly and handsome, like. Tell you what, I'm gonna make you a plate, too."

"No, that's okay Ms. Etta."

"What, you don't like my cooking, huh?"

"I didn't say that..."

"... what, I can't cook for you now; is that what you're saying to me, huh boy? Is that how you're gonna treat me after all I done for you? Oh, you a man now cause you graduated from that there high school, huh? I can't take care of you, no more? You got yourself a little girlfriend, don't you?"

"No."

"I think you do, and I think that funky butt little girl told you not to eat nobody else cooking, didn't she?"

"I don't have a girlfriend Ms. Etta."

"So why you can't eat my food, then?"

"... alright."

"WHY YOU SAYING IT LIKE THAT?!! I MAKING YOU DO NOTHING!!"

"That's not what I meant; can I have a plate, too?"

"Well, I don't know now. You done hurt my feelings acting like I'm doing something to you when all I'm trying to do is fill your belly and your poor sick auntie, too. She don't like that nasty old folks home food, do she? She used to bring you over here all the time and I don't remember you turning your nose up at my plate back then. Now you all uppity and shit, cause you got you a little girlfriend, huh? You don't even have no time for me no more!"

"... sorry."

"Really boy?"

"Uhm, yeah I'm sorry."

"Aw now, you really mean it don't you? I can tell by the look in your pretty brown eyes that you ain't lying to me; see, I know when somebody is not exactly being truthful with me. Its helps to know these kinds of things when you gotta make tough decisions and all. You know back in the day; I helped your mom and dad get they first apartment. She was so big in the belly with your older sister and your daddy wasn't exactly being productive and all."

"Ms. Etta..."

"He was running all over that apartment complex doing thangs with other people's thangs. Your mamma was just about to do something drastic, but he gone and got himself all locked up for being mannish with the wrong cootie cat, although if you ask me, he just got on the wrong side of her mamma. He was stuffing her too. You take after him a lot, boy. Maybe that's why I like you. That's why I help your people out so much."

"... uhm."

"We sure do miss you over at the church. You know, even though you all big and tall thinking you a man, you can always come home to the lord. We have a very robust youth program that includes young adult people like yourself. Heck, it be like the old days when I used to teach you things in Sunday school. They got another girl teaching it now on account of how busy things are these days. I think you'd like Tressie; she kind of ugly though."

"Can I uh, get those plates, Ms. Etta?"

"WHY SURE BOY!! I love filling your belly with all kinds of things, eh? Heck, maybe we can take it out in trade for old times' sake. Two plates coming right up, okay boy. You know you really should come on over to the church like I done said. Yup, be just like old times and such, you know? I got; uh I mean we got a right fine bunch of young fellas around your age over there too. Pastor Grey trying to put together a basketball team for the park league."

"I'll think about it, ma'am."

"What is there to think about? Ah forget about it, right now boy; I know how to find you when I need you. Uh, I think maybe you could run on back there in that playroom and put that there box fan in the window for me. It gets awful hot back there for them kids during nap time. Why don't you go on back there and take care of that for me, boy?"

"Okay Ms. Etta."

"... uhm, call me back there if you need some help, boy."

I started blinking profusely behind the wheel realizing I'd drifted too close to the other side of the lane. I veered back over slowing to a crawl on the next to a sound wall. I threw open the door leaning out enough to quickly regurgitate for a few minutes before composing myself. My thoughts returned to the free-spirited girl who'd rocked my world that afternoon. She didn't know it, but that was quite a feat considering my line of "work" at present.

"Aw shit, man." I chugged a bottle of water trying to get the sour taste out of my mouth noticing a phone number scribbled on it. Some flight attendant was especially attentive during my four-hour jaunt to the west coast. I'd taken it reluctantly as I got off the plane failing to notice her number scribbled on the white label in felt tip marker.

"Fuck that noise." I tossed it out of the open driver's side window as I sped off.

Strains of "Show You The Way To Go" by The Jacksons filled my rental car and calmed my nerves for the rest of the twenty-five-minute drive before I hit the off ramp. I took it all in noting the random groups of young people cliqued up on street corners. A few dive bars, a lot of them Spanish were jumping with activity. The GPS on my phone had me a few minutes off schedule but quickly rerouted me. Those unpleasant thoughts lingered.

I hit a sharp right tooling down a series of winding alleys at a clip making up for lost time. I popped a mint working to kill any lingering taste from earlier. The neighborhood was decidedly dangerous but felt lively in a way that contrasted with my hometown. I chalked it up to the multicultural aspect in the city of angels. My brow furrowed wondering who'd pulled my dance card. I wasn't readily available online. I had a go-between off the grid.

"Uhm, okay." I slowed down to a crawl again approaching my destination, some houses closely packed together in this densely packed, yet sprawling mostly Spanish hood.

It was one in the morning as I pulled to a gradual stop with my headlights illuminating a figure standing next to a garage. To the immediate right there was a mountain of junked car parts, metal odds and ends piled into the back of a rusted El Camino. I didn't know what to make of my obvious client. A hot pink cotton ski mask was the first thing I noticed, along with some big lips coated in rich cherry colored lipstick. This wasn't a white woman.

The woman in my headlights was built like a brick shithouse probably five-seven or five-ten in height narrow shoulders, thick and packed with big dense looking hips over some shapely gams. I knew I was looking at a whole snack, hood flavored. The ski mask covering her face other than her eyes and those big red lips, added to my curiosity. She was standing there wearing a black satin bomber skater jacket zipped up and a pair of matching black wet look workout tights that were a second skin, like sausage casings.

One hand was shoved in her pocket; the other was in custody of a joint as I realized she was having a smoke break. She didn't react to my arrival, just stood there taking puffs as I processed. Even with a mask on her face, I could tell she was glaring at me doing a slow burn. I glanced at my mounted work phone finding that I was one minute late then back through the windshield at my client. She finally shrugged as I got out, greeting her.

"Hey, uh traffic was kind of intense around the airport."

"Oh yeah?" Her voice was authoritative, even causally dismissive kind of like someone who talked for a living, almost familiar.

"Yeah, so uhm..."

"... hold that thought, bruh." She motioned at me with the hand holding the joint before taking a long drag on it as her other hand emerged from her pocket in custody of a bedazzled I-Phone. My gaze drifted down finding a pair of black low top Adidas on her feet with the hint of stark white ankle socks. I glanced back up finding her glaring at my face.

"What, you gotta pair of fucking glass slippers you wanna put on my shit?"

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse yourself King; hey, this belongs to you, right?" She held up her phone facing me with a screen shot of my cock in a woman's fist, spilling over to excess.

I reacted facially knowing where it came from instantly.

"This your fucking dick, or not?" She sounded annoyed mirroring the angry expression on my face, despite hers being hidden behind a pink ski mask, big lips and all.

"Yeah, it's mine; where'd you get that pic from?"

"What does it matter; I can afford you or you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"It's just a question." I retorted keeping my tone even.

"I thought that was against the rules; ain't you supposed to be some kind of silent bomber with the peen?" The authoritative tone of her voice talking street felt bougie and authentic at the same time.

"I thought that was against the rules." I replied intentionally snarky, cocking my head to the side.

"Well, lookit this mutha fuh... Fuck it, let's see it." She started to laugh, but stopped abruptly rolling her shoulders, mimicking me by cocking her head too. I knew I was talking to a yellow bone black woman in that instant. It was all in her posturing, tone and inflection. It was in the way she talked as if she was spoiling for a fight with someone beneath her. It was a familiar existential self-loathing that felt like home to me.

"See what?"

"Your dick; I wanna make sure I'm getting my money's worth, bruh." She sounded like some street bitch who'd come into some money, nigga rich.

I unzipped and exposed myself fully now knowing it was crucial not to display any further emotion or anything that could be interpreted as righteous indignation.

"Well, the package has been fucking delivered; I'm shocked and purely crushed, hopefully smashed, too." She half smirked with the joint hanging out of her mouth, then took another long drag on it staring intently at my endowment.

I considered tucking my shit back in, driving off and flipping her the bird, but I wanted the money after being annoyed by her shitty ass sense of entitlement.

"What, I'm too abrasive or something?" She noticed.

"Does it matter?"

"Guess not, want a hit of this?" She took a long drag on her joint then blew a sustained spout of smoke from her mouth before offering me a hit.

"Not while I'm working." There was a pause there letting me know I'd hit her with a verbal stinger.

"Yeah, you're right; fuck this shit, the meter's running, right King?"

I remained silent while her eyes lingered on my endowment left exposed because she hadn't directly instructed me to put it away.

"Let's get this show on the road then, King." She grabbed my cock with her right hand using it like a fleshy leash.

The word "King" sounded a lot like "nigga" in the way she used it and the inflection in her voice. I wondered again if she was some sort of bougie fake Pro black poser, but there seemed to be more to her than met the eye due to the fact that she was hiding her identity behind one of those stupid pink ski masks I'd noticed being used a few years back by a rabid mob of female activists during several televised protests.

She dropped her joint using her foot to mash it out before opening the gate leading me into the messy, unkempt backyard of a bungalow type home. I got a back view of my client noticing some curly brown hair protruding from the back of her mask. My gaze drifted down finding a radio station logo on the back of her black skater's jacket. 96 K-Jay was a big red flag that made her identity plane and clear as day. I stifled a half smirk, going static.

This woman was indeed a celebrity of sorts, part of a one hit wonder rap act from back in the day by some accounts. She'd mostly made her dime with her husband formerly her boyfriend and DJ as two parts of a successful morning radio trio before she blew things up nuking her career and marriage with an unintentionally public affair. Her wholesome image was one half of a successful power couple was over in a flash of public indignation.

Sydney Syd's "mask" had been ripped off in front of the world revealing her to be anything but; in fact, she was outed as a uber narcissistic "Mean Girl" with almost no peer. She'd gone from guest starring on morning panel shows and product placements for swag and various female centric items, to condom ads and mostly amateur podcasts of anyone who could afford her asking fee while still anchoring her afternoon show at that same station.

The public autopsy of her filed marriage and partnership seemed to make her bigger in hindsight, more authentic. I guess it was hard to maintain her crossover appeal with a whole triple-x sex tape out for public consumption. She was relegated to trash television and social media probably still making the same amount of coin if not more, sans the thin veneer of respectability. The reveal of the logo on her jacket put things into perspective.

Sydney Syd had grown tired of slumming with the unwashed masses and was apparently plotting a major league comeback likely with another recent client of mine.

"Why you so quiet; looking at my ass?" My gaze dropped finding a certified badonkadunk enhanced by the wet look glossy material stretched close to bursting across her wide expanse. That thing wasn't so much heart shaped in the classical sense but made up of two oblong oval boulders forced and mushed together by leggings that were probably intentional shape wear the moment she squeezed all that ass into them.

"I can't look?"

"Do you like what you see?"

"I think you know already." My endowment was inflated in her palm and expanding as she looked over her shoulder, then half turned at the hip looking directly at my visible excitement. Sydney turned facing me directly gripping my established twelve inches firmer.

"Guess I do, bruh; and you trying to hide your smile so either you're perving, or you know who I am, negro. If you do, you better not say it outloud up in this bitch. As a matter of fact, if you know then tell why I had you come all the way down here in the fucking hood, since you're so smart?" Her attitude was stifling, but my cock was surging in her hand.

"Local news and paparazzi ain't gonna follow you over here without making a scene and putting themselves behind the eight ball for easy stalking litigation whether you're a public figure or not. I guess you figure your movements tracked via helicopter aren't financially feasible for any decent sized media outlet to explain away in management paperwork."

"Oh, you're an educated lame with face, body and fucking dick too; what're you, a law student by day or something?"

"I'm a professional."

"You're a hoe." Sydney corrected pointedly stroking my shaft with a flick of the wrist. Her coping mechanism seemed to center around being overtly provocative. I'd watched a few episodes of her afternoon show Queens Corner and come away from it thinking she was a special kind of asshole with a redwood sized chip on her shoulder for men in general and black men in particular.

"You're a john." I added intent on not being easy unless she specifically requested that bit of performative fiction on my part. It was her dime after all.

"Oh, you got jokes, huh king?"

"If that's what you want, miss." I answered purposely robotic looking her dead in the eye with the same thinly veiled aggression, she now faced the outside world with. I knew what she wanted, and I was going to be coy enough to make her scream for it.

"Alright nigga since you wanna play in my face on my motherfucking dime, you can start by getting on your knees right here and topping me off."

"Yes ma'am."

"I ain't no old bitch, my name is fucking..." Sydney caught herself realizing that I already knew who she was. This move was supposed to make me feel denigrated, but I knew she couldn't film me without serious repercussions. This would obviously make her even more angry and put out. This older woman liked to collect trophies. She'd opened an Only Fans page a while back using it to post numerous dick pics from fans and creeps obsessing over her sex tape. It was framed as a safe space for women to be themselves.

"Suck my fucking pussy." It was a money grab.

Sydney was already digging her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings shimmying a little revealing that she'd gone commando. I didn't hesitate, getting on my knees becoming face level with the neatly trimmed patch of triangular brown hair covering her mound. She grabbed the hem of her skater jacket raising it a little exposing her slightly doughy, but flat tummy. Her navel had a jeweled piercing inset. Sydney palmed the back of my head.

This bitch thought she was going to embarrass me, but I didn't give a fuck. It wasn't emotional for me, so I came from a place of logic. I knelt in front of her accommodating from a place of service, but I had it in mind that she was getting judiciously pounded out with extreme prejudice. I framed her mound doing an imitation of the Merkel diamond gesture both thumbs touching. I could smell body wash on her person which was comforting.

She parted easily enough revealing a plump clit already halfway out of its hood. The tips of my thumbs managed to pry her open as I started swirling the tip of my tongue on her button. It was a slow and steady movement with random licks on her inner grooves I could reach despite her thick thighs which were surprisingly pillow soft. I gradually pushed my mouth against her mound licking hungrily at her slit, randomly suckling her clit with loud wet sounding slurps.

This wasn't my first rodeo by a long shot, so I knew how to ramp things up gradually eventually going hard before she would even realize it. My manufactured moans added to the heated atmosphere in someone's backyard between two houses. If someone looked out a window at my back, they would have a front row seat to a self-described boss bitch getting topped off like a dealer whose customer had no cash, rough trade indeed.

My tongue pushed through her plush thigh cleavage finding a covert triangular shaped negative space, started flicking and fucking it steadily. Sydney huffed starting to really feel my efforts, subtly gasping in the night air. I could feel her hands moving about my head, nails randomly scraping my scalp as if she were trying to figure out how to handle me, eventually palmed the sides of my face. She started humping my face timidly at first.

She started to get into it, parting her thighs more so that I could dip inside twirling and flicking at her grooves. I got the feeling Sydney intended to do this all along, recalling the media firestorm that swirled about her after she'd been outed on the radio show she shared with her former husband and their mutual best friend, Ken the Comedian. Some people were starting to blame the portly abrasive cohost after he ended up running things.

Sydney's right hand appeared in my field of vision blanketing her muff, middle fingers spread wide apart framing her slit as my tongue speared her gap. She was arching deep, pumping her hips towards my face starting to tremble. My hands took custody of her leggings pulling them down further hovering over her knees, stretched to capacity. I rubbed the outside of her thighs caressing them up and down, vertically.

"Yeah, suck that shit baby; oh fuck, that's it right there, nigga." Her authoritative tone sounded like some stern teacher encouraging a problem student. I was bringing more of that street bitch attitude to the surface. She was known to be perpetually surly after crashing out in front of the world, but I felt it her current behavior was more legit, genuine. Strangely, it might have been just what the doctor ordered. The restraints were off.

"Aw shit, right there... get up in there a little more, but keep sucking my clit. Yeah, just like that nigga, suck it like a tiny little dick, motherfucker." Her thrusts became more insistent as she captured my ears in her fists. This alarmed me enough to reach around grabbing two big handfuls of her bare ass, finding enough to bulge between my fingers like rising yeast. Sydney Syd had more than enough to feed the needy, but it was mushy and pliable, like a giant marshmallow.

"Fuck, I'm gonna start doing this shit to every nigga I fuck." She huffed aggressively.

She was getting into it wholesale now popping her hips riding my tongue, starting to whine like an alley cat. This mature yellow bone boss was still trying to provoke me, but I held onto my character knowing what I would do if she was stupid enough to point that big ass dump truck in my direction after denigrating me in somebody's backyard. I could palm two basketballs and play tug of war with anyone trying to snatch them away, but I barely had two phone book sized handfuls of Sydney's monster sized donk.

"Squeeze that ass, motherfucker! You ain't hurting me, I like shit like that, bruh!" She was getting loud and surly, unwilling to relinquish my ears. Her puss was sopping wet enough that some of her essence intermingled with my saliva was running down her drenched inner thighs. Sydney Syd wanted me to know she was hard as rock, but the only rock she was getting was a meteor sized grey rock, psychologically speaking.

"Pinch my cake, bitch! I had better than that fighting a sleazy Arab nigga for studio time! That stinky motherfucker earned that nineteen-year-old pussy, dawg!! He fucked me like he was going to the electric chair the next day!! What you got? SLAP MY FUCKING ASS!!"

[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!!!]

"Aw... YEAH!! Smack the fuck outta my shit, hoe! Niggas can be 304's too; whup my fat ass, bruh! AH!! Aw fuck! You ain't gonna get your lick back, bruh! I'm gonna make you!! Ahm, gonna make you...! AW SHIT!! MAKE YOU MAD AS FUCK!! WHUP ME!! Pinch it, too baby!!"

Sydney was beyond excited, probably more than being serviced somewhat publicly.

[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!!!]

Several extremely hard smacks to her left ass cheek left this entitled C-list celebrity yowling and huffing. I was vacuum slurping and sucking Sydney's clip like nobody's business. It was loud and nasty forcing this yellow bone mature into survival mode.

"AH!! FUH-FUH-MUTHA!!! AW!!... aw, man you eating up the whole bowl, nigga! SHEET!! YOU SONOFFAH!! BEECH!! FUK-NIGGA!!... yeah baby, snack on that catfish, bitch!!"

[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!!!]

"NIGGUH!!"

[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!!!]

I alternated between both of her huge, pillowy ass cheeks making her semi-solid donk jiggle and wobble all over the place. Her negging and thuggish insults made me wish I had this frat paddle I occasionally used upon request with some of my clients. I wished I had it so that I could swing for the fences, but despite all that I was going to utterly wreck this bitch. I didn't like being called nigga, but I understood that's what she needed.

"AAAUUGGG!!! FUH-FUCK!! FUH-FUH-FUCK!!! NIGGUH!!!... keep topping me off, man; aw shit bruh! SUCK-ME!! UNG!! UUNG!! UMMA-CUM!! BA-BEE!! BEECH!! HOE-ASS-NIGGUH!"

"SLURP-SLURP-MMMPPFFFHH!!! SLUUURP!!!!" Her hips were popping manically, slapping the hell out of my face, damn near suffocating me. I didn't know what was going on, but Sidney was making that role reversal work for her, no fucks given.

"AH!! AW-AW-AW-FUCK SHIT MAAAAN!!!!" Suddenly out of nowhere, Sydney interlocked her fingers behind my head shoving her cunt into my face rowing and swiveling in the throes of an intense orgasm. My face was hit with a deluge of juices. One of her hands shot out steadying herself leaning against the garage gasping and huffing, even whimpering.

I tried to pull my head back, but she held on fast going wobbly in the knees. This bitch bent forward cradling my head, humping into it heavily breathing, roughly holding fast.

Instead of fighting it, I dropped my hands down freeing one of her legs from its respective side of the glossy legging. Sydney was too busy "getting hers" to care that I'd removed one of her shoes to pull the shiny material free. I flicked my tongue on her clit, mouth drenched in her excess. It seemed like she misinterpreted my intentions raising a leg bent at the knee arching at an angle humping her slit flat against the middle of my face.

My left hand clawed into the bottom half of one huge, jiggly buttock fingers curved at the end spreading it wide apart. The tips of my left-hand fingers were partially breaching her cunt as I impetuously shoved three fingers from the right deep inside her box, roughly thrusting and grinding her inner grooves. She talked like some sort of smug, street tough hustler with a degree, so I expected a frigid box instead of the slimy mess I discovered.

"MAN-MAN-MAAAIN!!! AW!! AW MAN!!! WHUT-YOU-DOIN'!! NIGGUH!! I JUST-CAME!!" My offending fingers were covered in enough cream that it was running and dripping like a faucet. The underside of her massive thigh landed on top of my shoulder as she hooked a leg over it deciding to get rough herself. I added my lips to her clit sucking and fingering the shit out of her snotty cunt. Sydney groaned sounding like a stuck pig, panting.

That offending hand was practically glazed over while she was bent over cradling my head in her arms, holding on for dear life. I wasn't done mutely rebelling against her stuck-up behavior, curving the tips of my fingers into her g-spot. Her reaction was immediate as her muff slammed into my mouth accompanied by this feline sounding whine. Sydney tried to wrap her thick leg around my neck digging her nails into my scalp.

"SHIT, NIGGUUH!!! CLEAN IT OUT!! CLEAN MUH-PUSS-SEE OUT, BITCH!!" The rest was unintelligible gibberish, but I'd heard enough.

I reached up removing her leg from my neck and right shoulder, then stood up towering over my delinquent client. Despite the mask on her face, I could see her grimacing, teeth gritted. Her green eyes were surrounded by some dark shadowy mascara which was running in blackened tears. I looked like she was wearing some big fake lashes that were fluttering like the faux butterfly wings they were. Her big puffy lips were glistening in the dark.

"What?" Sydney huffed, chest heaving before her eyes darted over noticing the raised hand shiny with her excess juices mixed with my salvia. Her eyes darted to my chest, then back.

"... what?" She asked again, looking at my hand hovering near the left side of her face, excited.

Four fingers invaded her mouth up to the knuckles.

"No, you clean it out, bitch."

She gurgled and retched as I slowly pumped my fingers between her big lips, glaring intently deep into her eyes daring Sydney to bite. The pungent odor of her cunt was unavoidable all about my person. My teeth were clenched too, threatening.

[SLURP!]

Sydney started suckling my plunging fingers looking back, deep into my eyes just as intently. Slowly, surely, I subtracted fingers until only my pointer finger remained sliding in and out of her mouth steadily vacuum slurped with an increasing pressure.

[SLURP-SLURP-SLURP!!!]

Eventually I was poking my finger into her mouth allowing Sydney to soulfully fellate it, moaning. I kept it up watching as her full cheeks started to invert with a powerful suction that felt like an offer. The hardness in her face softened while the intensity in her eyes remained. My poking finger ground on her tongue, the rest coated in thick red lipstick.

[SLURP-SLURP-SLURP-SLURP-SLURP!!!!!]

We kept in lockstep peering into one another's eyes as I felt her tongue massaging my pointer finger, alternately flicking wherever it could. My free hand shot up unzipping the black skater's jacket that had given away her secret identity. Underneath, I found myself looking at this retro rock-n-roll crop top with a rose and wings emblem, tattered sides. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a brassiere as evidenced by the hint of nipple piercings.

[SLURP-SLURP-SLURP-POP!!!]

My pointer finger exited her mouth with a visible splash of saliva that dotted her chin. Sydney was all sweaty, shiny and sticky through the open portions of the pink ski mask.

"What, nigga?" She huffed, chest heaving in excitement.

My gaze traveled up and down her body before settling on her face again. That mask looked stupid.

"What?!" She started to spread both arms in a hood gesture I recognized would've been an invitation to throw hands anywhere else with another man. I jerked forward quickly, startling Sydney with a dueling hood gesture.

My client steeled herself not reacting further when her top was yanked up with enough roughness to make her exposed bare breasts wobble and bounce a little. She had a hard tagline across booth breasts that looked like it was made from a tube top, and butterfly styled barbel piercings in her nipples. Sydney Syd had a good handful, probably a C-Cup on the larger side, semi-floppy looking due to her age. I cupped and squeezed them, hard.

Her eyes fluttered, then shifted to the side looking away while I groped, squeezed and eventually pulled and pinched on her ornate nips sort of distending them a bit. Sydney didn't verbally react yet made these facial reactions gnashing her perfect teeth straying silent. I kept the running disrespect going taking the hem of her crop top, shoving it in her mouth like a dirtbag. My own features were frozen in a nuclear visage of "Whatever".

This woman was the epitome of a classic coke bottle shape venturing to the edges of the extreme from the bottom of her waist to her feet. I decided to return the favor and dehumanize this bitch knowing she wouldn't do anything. If you didn't know who she was mask included, Sydney Syd wouldn't be out of place in a 304 raggedy street fight. I grabbed her biceps feeling their doughy nature full and meaty, then handled her sides under her pits.

"Fuck, you doing?" She hissed, but I remained mute knowing it would infuriate her.

I captured her waist letting my fingers dig into her soft plush flesh. There was an underlying hardness to this woman. It probably stemmed from some sort of trauma which made me think fleetingly of Yoli's people pleasing behavior. I noticed some subtle stretchmarks at her hips and a few around her semi-flat abdomen. An educated guess screamed weight loss and mid-life crisis that probably triggered her decision to nuke a career chained to her decades lethargic husband.

"Oh, you gonna cashapp me some of my goddamn money back, huh bruh?"

There were just the hint of love handles in her lush flesh, enough to pinch and twist earning irritated gasps of pain mixed with pleasure. Sydney's fists captured my wrists barely trying to get me to let her go, nails curved into the tender flesh there. She huffed and grunted rolling her shoulders enough to make it seem convincing but did nothing as my palms caressed her sides drifting down to the blocky half roundness of her wide hips.

"Bitch ass nigguh; hoe built nigguh... motherfuckin-MMMMFFF?!!!" Her arms were moving awkwardly; stiff elbows pointed in opposite directions when I stole a deep kiss that shocked Sydney. My tongue invaded like a spear taking a confiscated tour of her mouth just long enough to abruptly shoot it backout at the moment she started to respond.

"That's supposed to be funny?"

"Shut up."

"WHAT YOU SAY-MMMFFF!! MUHTHA-FUH-MMMFFF!!!" She was ready thus time thrusting her tongue in my mouth kissing me fast, sucking on my bottom lip when I pulled away quicker than before, playing with one of her nipple piercings, twisting it a little.

"..." The incredulous look on her face despite the mask was almost worth the price of admission alone, on her dime. I was at a loss for words, but not Sydney.

"I should spit in your fucking face."

"Shut the fuck up and turn around bitch." I channeled my inner club bouncer giving her a rough unfamiliar shove half turning her towards the garage wall. Sydney scoffed loudly like some Karen miffed at a wrong coffee order but faced way from me despite herself.

"Sassy bitch! Zesty mutha-fucka, keep it up and I'm gonna get you touched, nigguh!" Her palms were flattened against the gritty texture oof the garage wall assuming the position as if she were being arrested, spine arched in the shape of the letter J with her butt shoved in my direction. I got way more than I expected. She was a southside bitch with a deep south country badonkadunk that caught me off guard looking at it directly.

"..." Sydney looked back over her shoulder following the trajectory of my gaze to the upper swell of her ridiculously large ass. I wasn't surprised to find that she'd vandalized her big, wobbly cheeks with two giant, stupid looking light blue star tattoos outlined in orange.

[SMACK!!!!!]

"OW! BITCH!!!" My palm collided with the right side of her huge jiggly ass more on the hip, making both of her enormous cheeks wobble like a massive bowl of jello.

She swiped at me, then favored the spot on her huge cheek where I landed the open-handed slap. My left hand grabbed a big, bulging handful of ass meat spreading it apart, using my other wrapped around the base aimed at her longish looking cunt. I considered shoving it in her ass but relented not knowing how Sydney would react. She was a client after all. Her posture was an open invitation that I took at warp speed, balls deep.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP!!!!!]

Sydney Syd had one of the sloppiest cunts I'd ever been in and that was saying something considering my profession on the low. There was nothing for me to worry about as she was required to take a full STI panel before any offer could be made to me, and another using a certified medical practitioner employed by my sponsors. Sydney was clean, fresh enough.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP!!!!!]

Her big ass was incredibly massive, wider than my chest and just as long. The cakes were semi-dense like a pillow with just enough underlying hardness to take twelve, thick inches of premium big black cock fat enough to make most women scream. Yet Sydney was taking it like a champ, breathing audibly hard but mostly silent. I was going to put in work.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP FWOP-FWOP!!!!!]

I grabbed big floppy handfuls of her hips letting go pounding her like there was no tomorrow. Sidney flattened her palms against the gritty unfinished garage walls, arching even more spreading her legs wider to accommodate me. Her monster sized butt was its own situation wobbling and flopping vertically all over the place, a giant-sized hunk of jello. Those star tattoos assumed a variety of shapes, big pliable cheeks spreading open revealing everything.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

She glanced back over her shoulder watching me stuff her box, my face furrowed brows included then down at my thick twelve inches of premium meat plunging her depths. Sydney did this repeatedly as I came to the realization she was taking everything with no problem, whatsoever. Twelve thick inches of meat and she had a little bit of space to spare. I'd never experienced anything like this before as her knowing half smirk formed.

"I'm ready... Oh, you were finished?"

"Oh, you got fucking jokes, right?" She was undoubtedly for the streets with a potty mouth, Mariana trench cooch and deep pockets that allowed her to make an offer to me and sweeten the deal two times over to get me here. I suspected nothing even close to serendipity but was seasoned enough to read the needs of the people paying me for a service. Everything else was taught to me, especially for times like this.

"Hey!"

I pulled out of her sloppy cunt finding my shaft finding enough of her juices practically dripping and running off my thick prick. I shoved all of it unceremoniously inside her big jiggly donk finding a tighter fit that her meat pocket which had seen its fair share of dance partners. My hands were big enough to palm two basketballs making it easy for me to expose her hungry looking backdoor. My large hands were gargoyle claws hungry as well.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"I didn't tell you to do that... yet."

"Shut up."

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"Something wrong with your mouth nigga; or is that a bonus I get for my motherfucking duckets?"

"You sure do like the sound of your own voice." I was curt and rude, verbally.

"NIG-UUUHHH!!! YOU GON GET-AH! AH-SHEETT!! NIGGUH-UG!! AW SHEET!!... yeah." Sydney Syd's love language was toxic hate sex with a dash of borderline BDSM type shit drenched in obvious abandonment and codependency issues. She talked a metric ton of shit with a masculine swagger that caught most people off guard because they weren't used to slumming with the unwashed masses. I was born and bred in the asphalt jungle.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

I spread her big cornbread cheeks apart even wider exposing my shaft piston pumping her shitter with machine-like proficiency. Once I was inside the front, her cavernous cunt said much about her body count without an actual number, but I suspected it was in the far double digits knowing a bit of her back story from social media. I thought of her former persona as a more family friendly celebrity and a voice for reason even on her afternoon show.

Then I thought about her husband Sly as he was known publicly. After the fall, he never returned to the show in live segments, presenting things with a screen shot of some AI generated thumbnail of him from younger days. The live call-in segments were gone except when guest hosts or the third part of their morning show Ken the Comedian was in the driver's seat. The successful morning show was never the same again and Sydney couldn't have cared less.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

The man was absolutely skewered in front of the country and the world at large in a blistering morning show segment. Some of Sydney's online supporters blamed Sly pointing out how he and his best friend Ken ambushed her on their show which had an incredible domino effect on everything that followed. Other's said her nuclear behavior was righteous payback after being "slut shamed" in front of their audience and sponsors.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

A dubious sex tape leaked the same day the interview happened. After that, no one had any questions or doubts about how Sydney got down behind closed doors. Several adult movie companies were probably still doggedly pursuing her for a follow up, but she hadn't apparently taken them up on the offer. The woman was a certified freak between the sheets to the ninth degree. She didn't run away from it, rather she leaned into it wholesale.

"Ah shit, that's right; fuck my asshole like you HATE ME, nigga. Push my shit in motherfucker." This thick yellow bone Karen was taking cock up the ass like a champ.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"Harder..."

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"Haaaaarder!!!"

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"GET THEM GUTS MA'NIGGUH!!! FUCK MAH-SHIT UP!!! BREAK THIS ASSHOLE!!!!" She started tensing unclamping down on my thrusting meat creating more of an intense scrubbing sensation than her used cunt. My thoughts drifted back to that interview when she destroyed her husband with the most basic insult a woman can use on a man. It was tried and true, but lethal in beautiful woman's hand. Under the mask, this bitch was striking. In fact. Sydney Syd usually handled all of the male celebrities, a lot of rappers.

"UH!! UH-UH!! UUUHHH!!! MUH-ASS!! THAT SHIT FEELS... GHUD!!! PUSH IT IN HARDER!!" Sydney's voice was strained, euphoric as she reached back with one hand running two fingers along her tail bone. Those big star tattoos were flopped and bouncing all over the place as I hit it like a prison lifer. Every thrust made all of the loose parts vibrate from the impact.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"FUGGIT!! FUGGIT!! UG!! UG-SHIT!! GET DEM GUTS!! GET THEM FUGGIN-GUTS!! NIG!!" There was a light sort of tribal tattoo on the hand running fingertips on top of my plunging member. She used a pointer finger pressed on my shaft, long acrylic nail lightly scratching up a scintillating friction. Sydney was now half turned at the hip watching, remaining hand flattened on the garage wall. She was biting into her lower lip breathing very hard.

"GUH-GUH!! UH-UH-AW SHIT!! FUGGIT-BRUH!! UM-FEELIN-FUH-NIGGUH!! SHEET!!" Both hands slammed into the garage wall with a loud thump as she popped that huge cornfed badonkadunk turning it into a horizontal shelf of bobbing meat. The motion ripples on the surface of her mature cakes were off the charts, crescent shaped. Her ski masked head dipped below her shoulders out of view.

"FUG-MAN!! FUG-SHIT-MAN!! FUG-MAAAIN!! UG-UG-UMMA CUM!! UMMA CUM!! NIG...!!" Outside of her ass, Sydney was leaning at a full forty-five degree angle taking a sexual beating that she didn't know was a prelude to a drubbing designed to say everything without saying a damn thing. Thoughts of her husband sitting in that interview stripped bare to the outside world left me with no outside facing tolerance for this toxic woman.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP- FWOP-FWOP!!!]

"... gah, ah-ah-ah shit, my king." I did a doubletake, offended. My hands shot up clawing and pinching her breasts as hard as I could. Her piercings were digging into my palms. Her tits were simply being used to anchor myself as Sydney went into a shivering fit sprouting goosebumps all over her thick, bottom heavy modelesque figure. I knew she was close to going over from the continuous pounding while she rained insults designed to infuriate.

I pulled out taking a step or two backwards, just watching.

"GAH-GAH-GAWD!!!!" Sydney Syd screamed loud enough to cause an echo that carried.

A deluge exploded from her snatch in fits and bursts, followed by a steady stream as she became incontinent for a few moments under my stone faced glare. A second wave hit her in the form of a serious of powerful orgasmic tremors that took her over in leg shaking fashion. It sounded like she was becoming sick evolving in a series of sobbing huffs that I'm sure she didn't intend for me to see, or anyone else. It was her private show.

"Aw man, my king; why'd you have to go and do that shit?"

I remained silent just watching for nearly five minutes until she turned at the hip staring at my face, blinking nonstop, huffing. Some drool ran from the corner of her mouth dripping onto her right tit. All of her bravado and attitude were gone, dissipated. She looked at me pointedly, then faced the garage wall holding her upright. We both knew she was embarrassed after having her card pulled in dramatic fashion. Sydney Syd was made.

"... aw fuck me, man." Her right leg was shaking causing her to hunch down as a second deluge of juices exploded from her casually used cunt, enough to run down her inner thigh soiling the frayed grass and excessive rocks at her feet. I grabbed her wrist, impulsively pulling her close under the overhead street light above. Her yellow bone skin had undergone a drastic change to this hot pinkish tint all over akin to cayenne pepper.

Both of us were drenched in perspiration, staring at one another.

"Wanna come inside; I've got a bed we can use." Sydney glanced down at my hand possessively around her wrist, then up peering into my eyes.

I pressed a thumb against her bottom lip wiping away the drool running from its corner finding it sticky between my thumb and forefinger. She wasn't fooling anybody, but I still hadn't cum yet and I felt like this scheming bitch owed me at least that much. I directed her captured hand to my throbbing tumescence until she grasped it willingly, still huffing. Sydney started stroking outward towards her doughy, yet flat abdomen.

"We can go inside and fuck some more if you want; I promise to be on my best behavior my king. I'll make it good for you and nothing's off the table, okay baby?" She was starting to beg confirming my suspicions about her nature and rampant self-hate. I wasn't that easy.

Sydney wrapped all ten of her fingers around my shaft stroking intently towards her body. This mature bitch knew her way around a man's business. There'd been a lot of talk about this woman when everything blew up in her face; talk of her trading sex for a renewed contract for the morning show she shared with her husband and his best friend. Afterwards she always framed things as "taking one for the team" defiantly avoiding accountability.

"I guess you like it out here, huh baby?" Her shoulders were hunched, back arched a little standing there in front of me, outwardly submissive naked except for her pink mask, socks and expensive sneakers. Sydney was using a double screwing motion stroking twisting and jerking randomly dabbing my crown on her belly, one brow raised silently asking.

"Is it too late for you to tell Diane thanks for the coffee, Sydney?"

Everything stopped.

"You're not supposed to say that."

"It's okay if you promise not to leak this shit online; I won't take it personal and you won't get black balled and fined, either."

"You'd trick on me?"

"Not if you take that stupid ass mask off right now; since this is the first time we've ever met, I'm going to assume you missed out on some vital information in-between the locker room talk between you girls. She didn't tell you about the real consequences of breaking the rules, did she? Before you snap, think about what it takes for me to see a client on glorified federal house arrest, Sydney. You got money, nigga rich; but she's old money."

"So, you're calling me trash?"

"I'm calling you a reasonable, very attractive woman who understands how to see the forest for the trees, instead of a glorified bottom feeding clout chaser who'd resort to putting out another "leaked sex tape" wearing a fucking pink ski mask bumping up the plausible deniability for her fellow struggle feminists who'd rightfully take you to task."

"Clout chaser, eh?"

"You're hearing the wrong shit; take it off bitch."

She didn't say anything for a few minutes, then reached up slowly pulling the mask off her head. Sydney was prettier in person with dark brown hair shorn close on the sides and a shock of wild blondish looking hair that presented like a messy bob on top of her noggin. Her lime green eyes and big, puffy lips stood out making her look unreal, cartoonish. Fake butterfly lashes and runny smokey eye shadow marred the look, but that was intentional.

"Butt ugly, huh?"

"Stop it." I gave her cheek an encouraging pinch watching her melt into my touch with a softened barely there smile that added much to her abrasive character.

I bent over then knelt down taking the time to remove the legging from her right foot leaving it there before putting the sneaker back on her foot. Now she was nude except for her socks and expensive sneakers, but I wasn't done.

"Where is it; or is somebody filming us?"

Sydney didn't hesitate taking a step closer rubbing her body against mine, no look reaching over removing a cell phone pouch that was hanging from the fence behind us. She removed another phone from the pouch showing it to me earnestly as she explained.

"I've got about fifty burner phones; there's another one in the backroom of the house. Uh, I don't trust many people; actually, I don't trust nobody. Ain't nobody in there, but my girl is kicking it in front of the place with a loaded cash App to keep shit on the low. Uhm, I wasn't gonna leak nothing, king."

"What were you gonna do with it?"

"Jerk off."

We didn't say anything, but started chortling jointly.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it gets hard sometimes bruh; can you imagine what its like when everybody you date or fuck with, looking for a lick? Actually caught this motherfucker trying to film me last summer at Rolling Loud. Fuck, caught this hippie trying the same thing at burning man, too. Had to whup that ass, didn't even need my security either... After that shit, I decided nobody was exploiting me but me, alright? You've got a nice ass and a big fucking dick."

"I know."

"You're so modest." She slipped in a little snark, grabbing my cock in her right hand jerking it roughly.

"Come on here, bitch." I snatched her hand away walking back to the gate opening it.

"Huh?"

"I wanna cum all over that big fat ass of yours, but I wanna see it, too."

"Geez, like I haven't heard that before." She followed me outside to my waiting rental in her birthday suit, flinching when I snatched the burner phone. I opened the pouch removing and aiming it at her face catching everything under the streetlight. Sydney covered her face with both hands, then gradually dropped both standing there nude, letting me record her.

"You know that shit is worth a million dollars now, right?"

"Nah, I don't think so." Sydney scoffed putting her hands on her hips, lazily indignant.

"Fuck you."

"Whatever, assume the position." I ordered gesturing towards the hood of my rental, returning the phone to its pouch making sure it was still recording. Sydney stared for a beat watching me hang it around my neck then tentively planted her palms flat, spreading her thick shapely legs wide apart. The motion alone caused her badonkadunk to wobble and jiggle all over the place. This was the only part of her body that wasn't tight and toned.

" For what its worth, I was serious about jerking off to that." She admitted sheepishly.

"I know Sydney; it's time for a money shot."

I grabbed her big juicy hips shoving my prick inside balls deep. This big pear shaped yellow bone heifer was built to take cock and tonight was no different. Her wet, sloppy cunt felt incredible coupled with the fact that I was going rock bottom. This was an odd rare occurrence slamming wetly into her wide butt, but not hitting the back. Sydney was infinitely more accommodating popping a mountainous arch twerking and wrenching vertically.

[SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SQUELCH-SQUELCH-SQUELCH-SQUISH-SQUISH-SQUISH!!]

My backdoor work seemed to have an effect on the front, or maybe she was that damn skilled. Her cunt seemed narrower, and even more sopping wet. My shaft was drenched in her essence with enough to run off, dripping onto the jagged alley pavement. Sydney Syd was throwing it back like a seasoned prostitute. Her butt was slamming into my crotch like a weighted block of cement wrapped in a mushy marshmallow covering of golden hued skin.

[SQUISH-SQUISH-SQUISH-SQUISH-SQUISH-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP!!!]

I couldn't help long stroking that monster donk enjoying the view, exaggerated motion ripples and all. In short, this middle aged woman was fucking the shit out of herself using my certified twelve inches of meat. My hands reached up grabbing her neck from behind with enough force for a serious choke, considering the size of my hands.

"UH-UH-URK!!! AW-AW-AW!!! URK!! AAAGGG!!! AH!! AW!! BA-BEEEE, YOU KNOW!!" I was always a quick study of people having been an acute people watcher in my younger days. Despite whatever was known about her in public, Sydney's dominant sexual proclivity was rooted in deep degradation, acute humiliation in either direction.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP!!!!]

Several tremors rocked her body until she was continuously shivering starting to go weak in the knees. That massive butt of hers was hitting my pelvis with enough force to make it assume a variety of mushy shapes both openings exposed, one gaped and the other stuffed to capacity. She was seizing up around my cock, even clamping down at her longish opening. Under the streetlight overhead and the waning darkness, I could see a lattice of stretchmarks across her wide butt. It added to her allure immensely for me.

[FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP-FWOP!!!!]

"GAWD YASS!! YUH SCRUBBIN-MUH SHIT GHUD!! FUG-MEEE!! YESH-YESH!! KING!!" Her knees knocked together wedged tight calves angled outward while her torso slammed into the hood of my rental. Sydney reached back with both hands grabbing clawing handfuls of her own huge butt spreading her monster cheeks wide apart. The squishy sound of her cunt was louder than it should have been, but I was reaching the precipice.

It almost looked as if she were going into the throes of a seizure as my cock was undated with gooey moisture and wet bursts. This woman was probably one of the most epic squirters I'd ever encountered.

"DON'T STOP KEEP GOING!! UM-CLOSE!! UN-UN-UNGH!! YASS!! YAAASSS!!! CUMMIN!!" Her grunts went guttural as I realized I was doing the same, plowing her box to oblivion in nuclear fashion just like I'd done to her backdoor at the beginning of her paid session. Sydney degenerated in animalistic fashion becoming little more than a stuck pig as I started to crest just as spectacularly. She was cleaning my pipes, slapping that mushy donk into my business, obliterating it. Her distressed whines and sobs completed my journey.

Several ropes of thick cum were erupting from my crown as I pulled out of her steaming snatch, hitting her yellow cakes in nigh-unrelenting waves. Each pulse and burst felt incredible, a sustained rope hitting the broad side of Sydney's left ass cheek. That first burst of my jizz sent this entitled cougar into a twerking fit splashing my cum everywhere.

"... aw, shit that was good my king."

Some of my ejaculate was running down the outside of her thigh. I'd truly made a mess of Sydney Syd's huge, wobbly back porch. I'd given her a double gape, front and back. Her hand appeared landing smack dab in the middle of my mess. I watched her lap up my seed, almost absentmindedly before noticing the look on my face. Sydney slid down into an open-legged squat, then crawled over on all fours kneeling upright, fully throating me.

I learned this woman was bottomless on both ends.

Fifteen minutes later, she got up planting her mushy donk on the hood of my rental. Her posture and shoulders were slumped over, exhausted. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she glanced up noticing the cell phone pouch dangling from my neck.

"Hey, can I take a look at that before you erase it?"

"Who said I was gonna erase it?" I handed it to her, then walked back through the gate finding her skater jacket. I found a vape in one of the pockets as I returned draping it across her shoulders, otherwise leaving her nude. I tossed the rest of my clothes onto the backseat of my rental car.

"I can keep it?"

"Depends..."

"... how much, bruh." A sliver of her original attitude started to return.

"Zero, if you don't leak it, Sydney." I used a pointer finger under her chin leaning in for a deep, soulful kiss. I didn't like blurring the lines, but she was a damn good fuck.

There was a lively glint in her lime green eyes when I drew back, breaking the kiss.

"I really am gonna jerk off with this, you know."

"Sure."

"It's okay if you don't believe me."

"If you break my trust and the contract, there will be hell to pay."

"Yeah, I'll get blacklisted, right?"

"You'll wish."

"Cold." She commented taking a puff on her vape as I recalled an anti-vape ad she did with her former husband some years back.

"Not as much as you would think." I planted a kiss on her cheek, feeling her hand on my crotch as the last vestiges of our early morning tryst evaporated with the coming dawn.

"Uhm..."

"What?" I expected a hard sell but got something else instead.

"It was my second time right after losing my v-card to Sly. We needed that studio time and that greasy fat fuck wasn't gonna take no for an answer. He was chasing me for a minute on the low, paid some overdue rent to my mom's landlord, but he was getting this pussy no matter what. I was legal and tired of eating government cheese, so I gave it up. That scumbag was hung like a horse and a half. I got it in a closet bare assed on the floor, bruh."

Sydney took another hit from her vape, then finished.

"Some rappers were in the studio recording some shit nobody was gonna hear outside of their relatives and friends while I got plowed with a big Wilson Fisk type Arab niggas slobbering and drooling all over me. He fucked me so hard and thorough for a long time, raw. That sand nigga was trying too knock me up, but I had a sponge in my shit he didn't know about. I came so many times, I half passed out still clawing the shit out of his back."

"Sydney, I don't understand."

"I was wearing this bright canary yellow hoodie, all fucked up and shit; couldn't have done anything even if I wanted when somebody started pounding on the door. This guy... this nasty ass dude married with kids and shit, folded that hoodie up over my face hiding that shit before he opened the door with that big horse dick still hanging out yelling some shit in his fucking language. My whole ass and busted pussy was out there for everyone to see."

Sydney took another hit on her vape.

"I was lying on that closety floor listening to this messy fuck laugh and joke around with those garage rapping motherfuckers. Some of them were clapping and talking about the mess he'd made of my pussy. He kicked them out when they wanted a slice too, then flopped me over the couch and hit from the back until after midnight. Even though I had that sponge inside, I was scared I was gonna have a little terrorist baby."

She was about to take another hit on her vape, but huffed looking around before continuing.

"... I gave him head to get him to stop fucking me doggy style. Man, I was scared that Arab nigga was gonna keep me locked up in that bitch on some old sex slave shit. He taught me how to REALLY suck a DICK right. I was so scared because he had that "CRAZY in LOVE" look on his face, totally SPRUNG and SHIT! This guy was in his thirties and I'd just made eighteen with no future in sight besides stringing some words together to a tune."

Sydney bit her lower lip, lost in the memory as the sun brought the curtain up on her rented sneaky link. She was sitting on the hood of my car in nothing, but a skater jacket socks and sneakers.

"My pussy was busted out and messy with a lot of blood; he drove me home and I damn near had to scream to get him to drive away in the hood. Mom got home from her shift a few minutes after I got in and caught me crying on the toilet because that fucking sponge was stuck in my cooch. What a day, right? Got "GOT" and a smashed up coochie then an hour-long ass whipping for being a hoe until I lied and blamed Sly for that shit. Got booted too, but good ole Sly catted out with me until I ditched that fool for two weeks."

Her green eyes widened starting to go watery.

"That Arab nigga got me a spot; this one-bedroom apartment around the corner from his crib on the east side of town. That motherfucker was way too happy with the arrangement thinking I was locked in since "I'd shamed my family by being a whore"... his words, I assure you. He fucked me for three hours with that beer can dick and was in my backdoor a little when his cousin knocked on the apartment door. They went away, but he called me half an hour later saying I might have to take care of his cousin to keep him from snitching."

"What did you do?"

"Boned out, rode a bus and the El train back home and bent the knee to my mother who took me to planned parenthood for a checkup after whipping me for "running away" to sell my ass on the street; her words, not mine. She made me break up with Sly, but I was like "Fuck That Shit" after I gave up the draws so we could get that studio time to record our demo. That meant I had to play nice with that sprung ass Arab bitch, too. Sly didn't get no pussy for a long time after that shit; besides that, Arab nigga was fucking the piss out of me like a boss. Fuck, why lie when that greasy slab of fat was cleaning me out downstairs."

"Sydney..?"

"Guess it all worked out with extras to boot. Amir was one hell of a producer despite the uh, 60/40 deal. He footed the bill on a ton of shit back in the day and uhm, "helped" put together one of our few foreign tours back in the day. His wife ended up with most of the profit from that first record after the divorce. She caught me topping him off in that same runaway apartment. We used to go there and fuck. He always fucked the shit out of me."

She took another hit.

"That smelly bitch thought she was Lady Gaga in that fucking House of Gucci movie or something. I should've whupped her ass for taking my duckets after all those times I had to take it in the ass and see Amir's hairy nut sack in 3D, tea bagging that shit to pay taxes. Like I said, he was a damn good producer, but a serial pervert. You know, I realized something about Charles uhm, Sly back then that stayed with me all those years before I blew it up."

"What?"

"That nigga is a human ostrich."

"Eh?!"

"He's had his head shoved up his ass for over thirty years, my king." She snickered into her own hand, palm faced off looking genuinely nerdy to me for the first since we met.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"... uhm."

"What?"

"Well uh, I'm just trying to explain why my PUSSY is so fucking BIG, king. That Arab motherfucker blew it open, and it was never the same again. Ain't no way Sly didn't know I was creeping all these years. When I caught that nigga drinking in that suite after chunking it out with our boss, that was it for his monkey "See No Evil" ass. I made him pay for it all."

"At Superbowl 45?"

"Yeah, well anyway I just wanted you to know I wasn't trying to front back there when you started hitting it. In fact, I wish I could swap you out for Amir and I hate myself for that shit. He made me cum so hard every time we did it and you are the third nigga that did that shit. The second guy well, he blew the door open and woke me up in that K-Jay studio. I knew I couldn't go through life with that invisible pillow smothering me to death."

"I've got to go, Sydney."

"Oh, sorry but I tend to get reflective when somebody cleans my pipes like a boss."

"It's cool, so Diane put me on blast?"

"We did an interview last week and well, girls talk about sex as much as guys. I haven't had any good dick in a year. She was empathetic, said you did wonders for her relationship with her estranged daughter. I asked for the baton and dropped some coin."

"When does the interview air?"

"Never."

She took a dragon her vape then stood up with her skater jacket draped across her shoulders like a cape. It was probably about half past five in the morning and she didn't seem to care about being otherwise nude. She glanced around the alley before settling on my face again.

"Ah, it was supposed to be the first stop in my comeback tour to real reporting, uh journalism. The network pulled it at the ninth hour, don't know why. Guess they think ain't no ratings in watching two old whores chop it up. Maybe, I should've gone out to that late dinner, but a tiger can change her stripes... maybe for a little while."

I did a slow clap acknowledging Sydney's silent triumph against negative expectations. She grabbed my hand, genuinely flushed before wrapping her arms around me in a deep hug.

"Sorry about being a bitch in heat."

"Good business is where you find it." She reared back with both arms still wrapped around me, incredulous.

"Well, if you ever get out of the business; you got a sugar mamma, right here." Her half smile got me to slightly nod, and she knew it was all the clout she was going to get from me.

My hands slid down over the upper swell of her big, floppy donk going lower cupping her cheeks, fully. Sydney went up on her toes accommodating me as much as she could, then pushed away. This entitled yellow bone mature put a little extra in her step raising the hem of her skater jacket showing off her small waist in relation to her huge, wobbly badonkadunk. She stopped after opening the gate, peering back in my direction.

"King?"

"Yeah?" There was a light morning breeze flowing through the morning air.

"The other reason I told you that shit was so that I could never use this sex tape. Maybe, we can go another round some time."

"Maybe." I gave her a wink, then got into my car and drove off.

By the time I reached the freeway, I'd forgotten everything I heard.

I was thinking of another yellow bone and the phone she left behind currently in the dresser inside my brownstone apartment.

... TO BE CONTINUED.

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Author's Notes:

I love writing for my fans and realize it's been quite some time since I posted here on Literotica. com. The reason for this is quite simple. Several individuals have decided to plagiarize and publish bastardized versions of my catalog here on this site. I have not published any stories outside of this site. My legitimate works as an Erotic Writer are exclusively here on Literotica. If you see my work outside of this site, it has been pirated. I love writing. I love writing for my fans, specifically speaking. Don't support bastardized knockoffs of my work, please. Don't support criminals. It's always a joy to post content on the site for readers, specifically my fans. The pirates WILL be DEALT with. Trust and believe, I'm highly litigious. Some of my content is on hiatus because of this situation.

I will continue to post and look forward to your feedback in the comments section.