Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Guest Star: Porsha Simms-44DDD-40-38 (28 years old)
I watched a few cars move down the street along with some foot traffic on the block content to just sit there on the grass for as long as it took to sink in. My mind kept replaying the brief innocent moment when I witness Yoli getting into a cab juxtaposed with what I’d discovered seconds ago. I could still hear my cousin asking about her likely already having talked with the duplicitous ingenue. I regretted my words, regretted telling Jaquan that I’d screwed her on his couch and everything else.
“Hey, uhm you mad?”
Yoli was there standing at the edge of the lawn to my left on the little concrete walkway that led up to the front door of my cousin’s house. I slowly craned my head in her direction finding her wearing the long sleeved dress shirt garment. It was open down the front hastily put on with her fists holding it closed. She was nude underneath. Her hair was all over her head like some erratic mane.
“I’m a big boy.” I looked away from her face.
“Please don’t be mad at me.” Her bare foot landed on the lawn, but I raised a palm stopping her from approaching.
“You hate me, don’t you? I-I just want you to be okay, not angry with me, not mad.” I glanced down between my legs unwilling to look at her face, pulling up a few blades of grass.
“Don’t come near me.”
Her whimpering turned to echoed sobbing as she ran back into my cousin’s house. The screen door slammed loudly echoing off in the distance. Jaquan appeared seconds later at the edge of the lawn.
“SO, YOU GONNA TRICK ON ME, CALL RENEE, CUZ?!!” He sounded ready for a fight.
“No, I’m not that weak; I ain’t doing shit, man.” He stood there gauging my response, probably perplexed. Somewhere off in the distance one of his neighbors was playing some Womack and Womack. I believe the song was called Baby I’m Scared of You; I recognized its dreamy quality.
“Oh what, you gonna cry now cause I ran up in your bitch, huh nigga?” Subtlety was not among my cousin’s more obvious charms. He sounded like the ignorant Cro-Magnon; he obviously was standing there shirtless with his sculpted physique on display.
“I don’t think so; I’m going to sit here for a minute and let all that shit sink in Jaquan. So you can take your victory lap or go back in there and bust Yoli’s back some more because I’m working on not giving a fuck. You can even smash my glass chin if you want, but I’ve got no fucks left to give. I’m not telling Renee about this.”
“I’M SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT SHIT?!!”
“Believe what you want, cuz.”
Things got real quiet until only the ambient chirping of birds in that nearby tree were audible along with the sounds of children playing somewhere in the distance. Jaquan left me to my thoughts for a few seconds. Moments later, I noticed his and Yoli’s legs from the knees down quickly walking by towards his Mustang convertible. I looked up watching the car pull off the curb. Yoli was hunched down in the front seat as it sped off.
“Sexually fluid.” I fished my own house keys out of my pocket staring at them in the afternoon sunlight.
I tossed a few clumps of grass onto the sidewalk as a couple walked the dog, a German Shepard. The unleashed pet ran onto the lawn playfully licking my face before being called back by a whistle from his master. Both of the teens apologized but I was happy for that bit of interaction replying with a simple thumbs up. My limbs found movement gradually taking me back into the house were I gathered up my things retrieving my phone. I hesitated returning to my cousin’s now vacant room to stare at the spot on his ruffled bed where they’d likely been screwing the entire day. I found Yoli’s discarded panties left behind on the floor.
Thirty minutes later I was standing in my living room staring out the front window glad my mother was still on vacation for another couple of days. I sat on the couch zoning out for a while letting everything finish sinking in before resolving to back to work. My phone started ringing but I ignored it getting out my laptop. The incessant ringing kept up until I finally answered.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HOME, BOY?!!”
“WHAT YOU DOING IN THAT HOUSE?!!”
“Uhm, I came back to pick up some stuff and decided to chill; uh, how do you know that I’m home?” I felt goosebumps prick up on my skin.
“I GOT A CALL FROM THE SECURITY COMPANY; I’M LOOKING AT YOU RIGHT NOW ON MY PHONE!!”
I realized my home had remote surveillance glancing over my shoulder at some shelves in my living room. There was a small nanny cam between a photo of my grandfather and some family albums. I was glad I hadn’t turned on my computer or my recent activities would’ve been exposed. I really didn’t need that kind of grief.
“I live here what’s the big deal?”
“I specifically arranged for you to stay at your aunt’s house with your cousin Jaquan; he’s responsible for you! I ain’t paying him to let you come back home and shack up! You get back over there until I get back from my vacation!!”
“You beylikdüzü anal yapan escort really pay Jaquan to take care of me?”
“He’s an adult.”
“Ma, I just made nineteen last month; how could you do something like this to me?” Considering my cousin’s own foibles and highly questionable track record with his own children, I was beyond offended.
“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” She offered making me feel no less humiliated.
“Dammit, I’m nineteen.”
“I KNOW HOW OLD YOU ARE; YOU DO WHAT I SAY!!” My mother hung up abruptly hopefully embarrassed after revealing how’d she played herself.
I chaffed inside at the thought of my shiftless cousin taking money for basically babysitting me. This guy in his early thirties, who already received a stipend from his own mother, had no qualms about taking money from mine. I mumbled a few curses under my breath taking my laptop back to my room where I was so paranoid that I actually checked my room for another nanny cam. I still didn’t trust my mother hooking up my Bose headphones so that she wouldn’t get any audio just in case. I even turned my desk towards the wall seeking to keep my secrecy bringing up my editing bay and the site itself. I checked my neglected message board finding a plethora of messages from a past “star” of my page, dialing up her posted number.
“Hey Porsha, you been looking for me?”
I knew the answer already after finding at least fifty messages from the second women I’d filmed and posted on the hosting site. Porsha Simms was rather large and blocky, boasting measurement of 44DDD-40-38 along with a somewhat narcoleptic countenance.
“Shit yeah, thought you was dodging me, though.”
“No, I was just caught up in something else; what’s up?” There was only one reason she would be calling.
“Hey, we need to do another one of them scenes; my paper got low something terrible.” The jovial nature of Porsha’s voice brought a smile to my face knowing it was wholly, criminally genuine.
“Alright we can set something up.”
“Come on man, you can put me on tonight; why don’t you come over right now?”
“Yeah, we can set it off tonight brother; come on over right now!!” She sounded excited but I had to air on the side of caution not wanting her roommate, another of my cousins in my business.
“I don’t know about that; I don’t want Deanna finding out.”
“Aw man I ain’t even over there right now; I’m kicking it at my friend Shawnee place. Me and Deanna kind of talking a break right now.”
I almost laughed in Porsha’s face realizing that she’d probably been put out for being late with her half of the rent money. I continued editing together a new teaser for my client, Chi Town Thunda.
“What about your friend, uhm Shawnee?”
“Don’t worry about that bitch, she down and ain’t no snitch. So, you coming over or what?”
Porsha was beyond desperate, and so was I. Finding my cousin Jaquan screwing the life out of Yoli was plaguing my mind and I needed something to self-medicate. I considered flaking on Porsha finishing up my work uploading two teasers for Thunda to the net that saw immediate returns before I’d left my home.
There was no way I was going back over Jaquan’s no matter what my mother wanted. As far as I was concerned, she’d thrown money into a lit fireplace. Her ideology offended me in that she always seemed to have a mild disparaging view of me, but verbally indicated that she felt I needed to be taken care of by this guy who was only technically an adult. It was like she looked at me and cousin in lineup picking him as the responsible one ignoring his blatant arrested development. I replayed his conversation about Yoli in my mind wandering if they’d already decided to hook up at that point or while I was out the following day.
The recurrent memory of Jaquan riding Yoli into the mattress continually returned prompted me to hastily pack up my camera bag. I guess I was in shock that she’d hooked up with my cousin but found everything made perfect sense in hindsight. Yoli initially targeted me because I’d slept with Renee, so it made sense to go to the next available source, Jaquan after giving up her job to fulfill a long held fantasy.
Who else had been with Renee Kelly more than the guy she’d given her virginity and a child?
That thought left me a little green around the gills prompting a longer than usual shower with plenty of hot water. By the time I got out, I was intent on removing her scenes from my online page profitable or not. I took the time to download all of her stuff onto a portable hard drive I had laying around before stalking off to work with Porsha Simms and hopefully fuck Yoli out of my system. The wildcard was her supposed friend Shawnee, someone I knew nothing about. It would be a game time decision at best once I got a feel for things going forward.
I was in a boorish mood of sorts with my situation exacerbated by the Lyft driver’s musical choice. I was serenaded by a vintage beylikdüzü balıketli escort group known as The Emotions with Don’t Ask My Neighbors providing an unintentional soundtrack to my life. Yoli reappeared over and over again in my minds eye in a jumbled montage of images getting fucked senseless by my cousin, intermittently by me.
“Do you mind changing the station, sir?”
“What you don’t like oldies?” My driver was an older fellow, probably on the cusp of senior citizenship; a brother with a thick, snow white beard.
“No, I’m good with oldies but this song is getting to me.”
“Sure kid, whatever.” He grumbled changing the station ending up with a worse choice in Deniece Williams’ iconic song “Silly” which made me turn inside out psychologically.
It was crazy because I’d only messed around with Yoli for a couple of days before shit got real with Jaquan. My resolve to burn her out of my system in degrees, was steeled by the time I arrived at Shawnee’s apartment. In short order I found myself in front a three story building which looked in need of renovation in some respects. The building was a block long with one or two outward facing windows fractured, kept from fully shattering with thick grey tape. One first floor window displayed a prominent neighborhood watch sign that gave me pause. The adjacent blocks posted a similar urban esthetic that would make it reasonable to bail on Porsha. The stone framed front entrance yielded Porsha before I could dial up another car.
“Ain’t you coming inside?” Porsha was wearing a vintage Puma windbreaker and some frayed Bermuda shorts that were almost stonewashed in appearance. Her bust was ridiculous in a garment that had been likely scored from a much smaller person.
“Is it safe?” I redoubled my grip on my bag, half expecting someone to run out and roll me for my things.
“Come on man, are you for real?”
“Seems like a reasonable question to ask.” It did and I was.
“We gotta get this money.” She looped her arm in mind with this disarming smile that defused my initial misgivings lightly pulling my into the building where I found a short stairwell leading up to Porsha’s current digs.
The old-school oak door was ajar, and I could hear sounds of a television emanating from within. Porsha pushed the door softly allowing it to swing open so that I could peer inside. The inner alcove was large enough with an oddly placed bathroom adjacent to the front door. A thin chain dangled from a simplistic lighting fixture above as I glanced to my right finding the living room with one of those bead curtains obscuring its interior. There was a short corridor that with the kitchen on its right side and what I assumed were two bedrooms on either side anchoring the floor plan.
“So, we good; or you scared?”
“I ain’t scared!”
“Get your ass inside, then.” Porsha gave me a playful yet forceful shove inside following me, chuckling.
She swept the beaded curtain revealing a cluttered living room made up of two love seats on either side with a ratty looking sofa lining the picture windows facing the entrance. A thin, oblong coffee table was the official center of the room while an entertainment center sat at my immediate right. We weren’t alone, another woman reclined on the right love seat almost lying there in a fluffy white hoodie and some baggie sweat pants. She was basically a pile of clothing with a smallish looking head sticking out the top. This woman had what some referred to as a redbone skin tone on the darker end of the spectrum, attractive enough with some prominent eyebrows begging to be plucked and chubby cheeks that gave her an elven smile.
There was an overly large bag of chips resting on her torso that she was actively feeding from. Her look and disposition brought a smile to my face as I cautiously stepped inside finding a seat on the opposite loveseat. Porsha leaned in forcing me to slide over to sofa. She was at my back actually kneeling on the couch with one sandaled foot planted on the hardwood floor.
“So, this is my girl Shawnee Thompson.” Porsha’s arm was resting behind my head while her huge bust partially obscured my view of the television. Both women were watching a rerun of that show Scandal making me unintentionally turn my nose up.
“I already said my name.” Shawnee reminded between bites of chips.
“Yeah, she already said that, Porsha.” There was chip shrapnel on her hoodie.
Shawnee lazily regarded me without a care.
“Well, I just thought we could be more professional like, formal and stuff.” Porsha talked with her hands touching her breasts a bit. I liked the noticeable jiggle of her bounty but found the weed on her breath a bit distracting.
“He came over here to fuck you.”
“No, we’re working Shawnee.” Porsha corrected as I focused more on the huge boobs pressing into my shoulder and bicep.
“Yeah, like she said.” I added drawing the zipper down on her windbreaker allowing the huge breasts inside beylikdüzü bayan arkadaş a modicum of freedom.
The resultant bulge outward resembled rising yeast, the baking of bread more or less. Porsha Simms was shirtless underneath wearing only this really expensive looking underwire brassiere. It was embroidered with intricate lace, everything in a sort of evergreen color. This undergarment was made for a plus sized woman but visually not her size as her cleavage appeared mountainous. One of her saucer sized areolas was peeking out of the plunging neckline before my eyes. Her hand clapped the back of my neck in righteous indignation getting a playful laugh out of her friend that degenerated into some brief, labored coughing. Porsha yanked the zipper up hiding her cleavage.
“What’s so fucking funny?” Porsha raised an eyebrow at her sedentary associate.
“DAMN, HE JUST UNZIPPING YOUR SHIT LIKE IT’S HIS TITTIES!!” Shawnee was coughing at bit as she laughed at her friend. Porsha flipped her associate the bird getting a quick return in the same gesture.
“Well, why’d you want me to come over if we ain’t doing nothing?”
“I ain’t say we wasn’t doing nothing; it’s just a little disrespectful to be pulling my tits out like that.” I shrugged as she explained glancing over at an amused Shawnee.
“Well Ms. Simms; what did we do the first time we met?”
“That’s besides the point.” She looked away nonverbally outing herself as Shawnee laughed. I decided to add insult to injury by fishing out my phone pulling up one of the scenes where I’d repeatedly blasted Porsha’s face as she held her fleshy boulders pressed together. I handed my phone over to Shawnee.
“OH FUCK MAN; HOLY SHIT HE BLASTED UP YOUR FACE GIRL!!” Porsha tried to reach across me in a vain attempt to snatch my phone as Shawnee held it out of reach sitting upright. The tattered bag of chips spilled out at her feet as she glared at the face of my phone. I received a slightly forceful shove from Porsha.
“What, I’d do?”
“OH LOOKIT THIS, HE GOING HAM ON THEM TITTIES NOW; OH GIRL YOU DONE FREED THE BEAST SOMETHING FIERCE!!” I chuckled at the way she spoke giving me the impression that she was some sort of irreverent gossip.
“We were doing it to make money, just business.”
“So, how much you get out of this thing?”
“Good five hundred, more or less.” I didn’t believe her estimate, but it was accurate for the footage I’d captured for my own page.
“Are you for reals?” Shawnee sounded impressed holding my phone in both hands watching the ten minute clip. Sitting upright, she was taller than me, a pile of sloppy clothing.
“Ah bitch, we gonna make way more than that; ain’t we bruh?” Porsha nudged me ironically with her bust.
“Well since we’re talking business; I’m going to need you to sign some paperwork.”
I unzipped my camera bag pulling out a few copies of similar to the modeling release Renee had Yoli sign and present to me. I knew Porsha like to hide her true cunning nature behind a façade of hood tinged indifference.
“Modeling release, two actually because your potential profits could get held up without this form.”
“Yeah, it’s standard issue on the most basic level for adult stuff. I can’t post new stuff without it.”
“They paid me last time.” I expected that bit of push back.
“Cool, if you want to make some new stuff I’m gonna need you to sign and date these two forms on the bottom.” My karmic mentor Renee Kelly lit a fire under my ass when she warned me about Mintzy and by proxy, Yoli. There was no way I was going forward without that paperwork. I was prepared to go back home if necessary.
“Shit, whatever.” I was actually surprised when she signed both forms.
“So, how much you make off this other stuff?” Shawnee was still watching various clips on my phone.
“I’m making money just sitting here with you guys; so Porsha, we in business or what?” I turned abruptly bumping face first into her breasts. The front half of my head was completely hidden from view.
“I signed the paper, didn’t I nigga?” She wasn’t happy likely figuring I was trying to screw with her on some level. Her own lack of business acumen and desire for more passive money drove her impulsive actions.
“Yes, you did.”
I drew the zipper down again, all the way this time letting her immense boobs part the windbreaker revealing her torso. The was a crappy tattoo I hadn’t noticed before etched into her mocha colored skin arched over her round belly button. Porsha gave me a stern look as I palmed the underside of a heavy breast.
“Hey girl let me get at you for a minute, back here.”
The entire loveseat shook as Shawnee got up in drawn out fashion letting the rest of the errant chips fall onto the floor at her feet. Even standing up, she was this formless pile of clothing that lumbered out of the living room causing weight induced tremors.
“Hold it up for a minute.” Porsha followed her friend out of the living room generating a few tremors of her own.
I fished out my camera checking my bag with a sigh of relief after finding four unused condoms from the roll gifted to me by Renee Kelly. My phone started flashing with Yoli’s phone number. I didn’t answer it happy that I kept my device on silent. I watched three cycles of unanswered ringing before Porsha returned staring across the room at me.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32