An adult stories – The Hired Gun Ch. 05 by mondotoken,mondotoken “Your phone is ringing.”
“Don’t worry about it, keep going.”
“Might be important?”
“On a Sunday morning; I doubt it.”
“I won’t be jealous if it’s a girl; we’re adults here just enjoying ourselves.”
“That right, keep going.”
“I’m not that good; I’ll wait while you answer it.”
“No, I want to cum.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah Angela, keep going.”
The circular air mattress was pretty much deflated but still good enough to cushion our bodies as we sat facing one another entwined in the lotus position. Both of us were leaning back resting our weight on the flattened palms of our hands with our crotches wedged together. I’d never tried this position before, but Charity Gilbert’s mother swore by it as we explored each other’s bodies to the fullest after an early tumultuous morning showdown with her ex-husband and his bride to be. Angela was left destroyed.
We spent the rest of the morning screwing ourselves to distractions for two similar but somewhat different reasons. Angela was made to understand that she was losing her title to a younger model and exposed for a number of past misdeeds, while I’d been tangentially exposed a second time through a relationship with my wayward aunt by marriage. She’d thought herself too smart after subverting my uncle’s attempts to uncover her cheating once. There was no expectation he’d hire a second PI. Now, both of us were licking our wounds, collectively.
“You really like this, don’t you?”
“Yeah, keep going I almost feel like I’m going too cum.”
“How many times have you gone inside me; it’s starting to feel a little excessive.”
“You don’t like it?”
“On the contrary I love it almost as much as I love swallowing your load.” Angela was doing all the work in this position arching and rolling her hips fucking herself to distraction planted in my lap. She was pretty much rowing her butt back and forth in a tight circle taking my cock on a ride in her steaming snatch. Her sweat glistened body and large breasts looked incredible; nipples fully erect flopping about.
“Keep going, it’s finna happen.”
“Tell me right when you start to really feel it.”
“Okay.”
Angela kept up the bludgeoning cadence of her cunt slamming into my crotch starting to huff and grunt almost rhymical. We’d started in the kitchen again after I’d taken it upon myself to look under the white T-shirt Angela was wearing, finding her toned, gym-built derriere staring me in the face. There was no way I could keep my hands off of it just like most of my interactions with her only child, Charity Gilbert. The former Mrs. Gilbert was pinned to the wall on my cock and bounced silly as we took a sexual tour around my rented abode sexually christening it more than before. Now we were exploring Angela’s favorite position as a crescendo to our morning escapades.
“I’M FINNA CUM ANGELA!!” I couldn’t help myself letting my head roll backwards on my shoulders as my shaft thickened while my inner thighs pulsed making me shout outloud.
I was unprepared as she surged forward making our connection airtight as she closed the minute distance between us wrapping her defined arms and legs tightly around my neck and waist hooking her chin over my right shoulder. I went over spectacularly blowing several ropes inside her roiling snatch as she rocked and twisted that dense apple of a butt milking me until my mouth hung open with some spittle running out of it. The fierce antagonistic expression on her face added to this last gripping climax.
“Feeling good?”
“AGG! RAKK!! NAGGA!!” My eyes were rolling up in my head as it nearly fell from my shoulders. Luckily Angela caught it looking amused at my total drubbing as she cradled mu noggin to her bosom softly chortling.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She squeezed me tight against her sweaty body feeling all of the fight knocked out of me.
“Mommy.”
Angela laughed outloud easing up on the grip about my neck so that she could look at my blasted out expression pleased with herself.
“Oh, so I’m mommy now; is that right?”
“Mommy?”
“Yes?” She was grinning widely enjoying the moment as I suckled the nearest tit before speaking further.
“Can we stay like this, forever?” Angela laughed even harder at my gimpish tone, loosening the grip about the small of my back allowing me to gracefully descend to the pillow beneath.
I could have sworn I landed like a feather, but immediately suffered a stinging brain fog akin to swallowing a scoop of ice cream fresh out the freezer with no preparation. This left her sitting there with my destroyed penis still captured inside of her honeypot. Angela Gilbert sat upright with her knees planted outside of my hips, back straightened, regally. My head was lightly bobbing side to side looking up at a harsh beauty I could appreciate highlighted by the early afternoon sun filtering in from nearby venetian blinds. From my tear glistened field of vision, Angela was sparkling.
“I’d love to stay here with you and keep finding new ways to twist ourselves into human pretzels, but we both have lives to live. Besides, I’d rather see you like this instead of worrying that you’re comparing me to my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?” I feigned amnesia making her laugh and dismount much to my chagrin. She took up a resting buddha position at my right side staring at my face humored enough to wipe away some drool running out one side of my mouth.
“I think I can see why she likes you so much.”
“Post nut clarity, huh?”
“Shut up.” I was rewarded with a playful kiss on the lips as she ran a finger between my pecs down my abdomen finally handling my legitimately depleted member. Angela wriggled it around, then let it flop against my belly with a chortle.
“Go again?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on; I can do this all day.”
“Nah, I’m not trying to catch a case.” We chuckled jointly as she called me out pinching one of my nipples to emphasize her point.
“Your loss.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get with my daughter; how’d she let you get away?”
“We talked about it. Charity asked me if I would give up everything I was doing for her, follow her lead. I didn’t hesitate telling her I would no questions asked.”
“Wat did she say?”
“Scolded me; told me that I shouldn’t give up my dreams for anybody. Then we fucked like rabbits.”
“Sometimes I don’t know if I should slap you or kiss you.”
“How about both?”
I got a light smack to the cheek followed by a prolonged kiss full of tongue.
“One more round.”
“No.”
“Sit on my face?”
“Stop.”
“Shower together?”
“I don’t trust you; and my ass is still hurting from the other day.” Angela started to sit up beside me picking at her hair casually regarding me with an easygoing smile on her face.
“Kiss it and make it feel better?”
Angela playfully clamped a hand over my mouth to silence my repeated queries of a salacious nature. She leaned down kissing the top of the hand covering my mouth before slowly crawling over my prone inert body. The athletic mature paused on all fours giving me a look at her figure in profile.
“Maybe next time.”
“You really don’t know what you’re missing Angela.”
“Objection young man.” She reached down grabbing my deflated cock roughly making me yelp like a wounded animal with this high pitched shriek.
“Fuck me, Angela.” I whimpered.
“I rest my case.” she chortled climbing over to my left side purposely turning her butt in my direction as she slowly stood up, then looked over her shoulder at my face.
I could look beyond the semi-permanent scowl on her face seeing the woman underneath.
“Thank you.”
She draped my white T-shirt over a shoulder pulling the bedroom door up as she left.
The phone had long since stopped ringing and I didn’t care enough to look…I couldn’t.
[DARKNESS]
*************************************************************************************
“Huh, what’s this?”
There was a posted note stuck to my forehead while my android had been carefully placed against my right ear. I snatched it down looking at the message left behind by Angela.
“I left you a plate in the microwave for lunch or dinner. Thanks for everything and I think you need to call your mother.” My eyes went wide as I reached up retrieving my android looking at it face. There was a steady stream of messages from various sources, but my mother had clearly decided to break the wall of silence that had been up since my initial exposure as an online pornographer.
“Nah, not today.” I suddenly felt a pang of overt fear like I used to when I was younger and in trouble with my custodial parent. That feeling was my “spider-sense” for family troubles ahead and usually ended with me receiving some corporal punishment from my mother. I was in my early twenties but felt like a small kid in her presence during times like this. It was obviously about my Auntie Esther.
I facepalmed dropping the phone to my side.
I was utterly trashed, feeling like I’d just completed a marathon at gunpoint only to be mauled by a grizzly bear at the finish line. My body was inert matter with only my wobbly arms able to move with extreme concentration on my part. Even my head seemed to have to density of a bowling ball leaving me only able to move it faintly side to side. Thus, reminded of the veritable sexual Olympics I’d engaged in with Charity Gilbert’s mother, Angela. We’d done it on and off for hours before some semblance of responsibility manifested itself in her current absence from the house I rented from her ex-husband.
It felt like a 1-ton weight was left on my chest as my mind drifted comparing the woman and her self-described malevolent daughter who was one of the greatest fuck buddies I’d ever had. Our very last tryst ended with Charity laying me out cold and now her mother Angela had demonstrated that apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I chortled thinking about how easily she got out of bed after working me over sexually. I’d fallen for it like a clueless dupe. This mature fortysomething had run through me like wet tissue paper. There was no doubt I’d have to step up my daily workouts and buy a shit ton of zinc.
“We could’ve gone one more round.” I mused laughing to myself starting to yarn profusely.
I drifted off for a while.
“Huh?” My android woke me out of a deep blubbering slumber through vibration alone. I usually left it on mute for the most part although I didn’t get many calls outside of my close tightknit circle which consisted of my cousin Jaquan and Rashida Sikes, the penultimate muse of my online site. I’d made the mistake of leaving my discarded phone in my crotch right before falling back into a deep slumber.
“Well, that’s different; let’s see who’s ringing my phone this fine afternoon.” I found an unfamiliar number staring me in the face as it buzzed incessantly. I didn’t know who this was and for some reason felt it might be my mother or another family member trying to give me the business.
“Fuck that noise.” I’d been asleep for two whole hours finding that it was just after noon, but I felt no different than when I slipped into slumber earlier. Charity’s mother had really put in work.
My eyelids felt weighted down by cement blocks as I dropped off again.
“Shit, what the fuck?” I was jolted awake again finding the phone pressed against the opposite side of my head this time. I was lying face down pretty much spread eagle except for the hand in custody of the phone.
“Hey there yuh awake now? mi nuh like chatting wid no man who ave di nerve tuh waste mi time boy! mi get sup’m real nice tuh fix yuh up wid an yuh big hood nigga naah guh kno weh fi him head from fi him ass!”
“Huh?” I’d awakened in the middle of a conversation with some woman with a really thick Caribbean accent; and she wasn’t happy.
“Hey madafucka yuh kno who di fuck mi am?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” It was an honest admission.
The call ended abruptly as I sat upright scratching my head, confused. The air mattress I’d been using was completely deflated. I figured it was hell on my back eliciting an instinctual reaction in my sleep for more comfort while I’d somehow conversed in a fugue state.
“Whatever.” I crawled out of what was left of my pallet on all fours into the corridor noticing the scent of air freshener that had sort of an orangish odor permeating the house. I righted myself finding that my knees were shaking a little and managed to hobble into the bathroom throwing some water on my face. I checked my phone finding even more calls that I was intent on ignoring.
“Oh wow, I’m purely shocked.” My eyes went wide at the surprise waiting for me.
The entire house had been cleaned from top to bottom almost sparkling. I inched back to the bathroom noticing the gleaming almost glowing white fixtures, toilet and sink included. The shower walls and tub were scrubbed down looking damn near factory new. There the bathmat was replaced with a new cleaned one that I recognized from the basement storage near the boiler. I drifted over to the living room finding it immaturely cleaned and vacuumed with the source of that orangish air freshener affixed to the wall plugged into an outlet behind the coatrack. The former Mrs. Gilbert had been a busy beaver.
“Huh, what’s this?” I’d intended to call Angela up and thank her but found a video clip she’d sent almost two hours earlier.
“Whoa.” I glanced into the partially open door to my bedroom finding one of my camera stands with the ring light still attached, then looked at my android again.
Angela was seen in the clip wearing an apron which probably belonged to her at some point in time, and nothing else. The apron didn’t belong to Tressie because she’d never lived in the former Gilbert home. Once the happy couple were reunited, William Gilbert never returned preferring not to agitate his daughter who ended up living there alone for a short time while he took residence in a hotel with Tressie almost maxing out his credit cards before finding a home out of state. This was Angela’s apron.
Angela knew what she was doing standing center frame in front of the refrigerator with a hundred watt smile that was unusual to anyone who’d known her for any period of time. I watched as she went about things cleaning the kitchen, bathroom and living room all while giving me views oof her tight, toned derriere and glimpses of her large sloping, slightly sagging breasts. The apron was one the vintage numbers that partially covered her chest. Her nipples were highly visible poking into the cotton material of the frilly apron with its checkered canary yellow and white pattern.
I was getting a show.
I appreciated the time and effort taken by the grateful mature watching a segment of the clip that showed this pretty wealthy woman on her knees dutifully cleaning the tub with that butt facing the camera. Her peach was clearly visible for my viewing pleasure as she periodically glanced back at the lense capturing everything with this knowing smile that reminded me way too much of her errant daughter. Adding to the meta atmosphere of this gift to my unflagging libido was when the former Mrs. Gilbert reached between her defined thighs spreading her flower open revealing the rich pink insides.
Two finger disappeared inside pumping away frantically for a minute or two before she knelt upright chortling to herself, then winked at the camera. She stood up hitting the shower washing all of the cleanser out of the tub still shooting me looks via the camera before removing the hamper. There was an abrupt jump cut in the footage that led to a view of my exposed crotch and deflated tumescence. Angela’s face was hovering over my endowment staring into the camera with a mischievous smirk.
She reached into frame grabbing all of my package stuffing her face with it for a sustained, soulful blowjob that failed miserably to produce any results. My unconscious body was given the full Monty, even my balls which she slurped and teased flicking her tongue on them until my crotch was a soapy mess of her copious saliva. I think she even went after my taint, afraid that I might have been rimmed in my sleep. My entire endowment was cradled between her hands as her head bobbed for another few minutes before she gave up handling my dead cock like a used condom. Angela looked into the camera.
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.” She shrugged playfully chuckling as her head disappeared from frame.
“HOW THE FUCK DID I SLEEP THROUGH THIS?!!” I facepalmed as another jump cut changed the scenery.
Now I was treated to a low camera angle set up in the back of the basement facing Angela from across the room. She was in the process of stuffing my dirty laundry into the washer, still nude except for the apron. The whole meta situation continued as she glanced back across the room making me wonder about the camera placement. She turned on the washer intently watching as the water filled up the vintage model before starting in herkie jerky fashion. I seldom used the machine because of this, finding it too loud and disruptive. The washer would always shake and vibrate uncontrollably.
“Oh shit, fuck me.”
Angela peeled the top of the apron down exposing her breasts then reached backwards grabbing the edge of the washer. She jumped up sitting on top of it with her long defined legs draped over the sides smiling at the camera whimsically. It only took moments before the effects of the heavy vibrations became clear as her head rocked back on her shoulders facing the basement ceiling under the kitchen. Her hands groped and squeezed her breasts pulling and distending the nipples in several intervals before she pulled the lower half of the apron aside diddling herself silly.
I watched the fortysomething keel over off the washer somehow avoiding smacking her head on the pavement as she crawled towards the camera on all fours, visibly panting. Angela didn’t say anything, just paused the camera which resulted in another jump cut that saw her desperately grinding my flaccid penis with the underside of my tumescence sandwiched between her labia. When this didn’t work, Angela turned around with her butt facing my face. Her openings were on full display as she finished things herself going over with a long sustained feral distressed yowl.
“HOW-THE-FUCK-DID I SLEEP THROUGH THIS SHIT?!!”
After getting hers, Angela tried to suck me into hardness again failing again before taking her camera which was obviously an I-Phone connected to one of my selfie sticks. She paused the feed while it was focused on her sweat glistened face. A final jump cut saw her sitting in the living room on the couch finishing the folding of my newly washed clothing, unmentionables included. This final brief segment seemed like some sort of exit interview as she talked to me via the camera.
“It took everything I had not to wake you up or sit on your face this morning. I just couldn’t do it; not that I didn’t want to, but you looked so cute all knocked out on the floor. I think I popped the air mattress, sorry about that. I’ll buy you a new one if you want, but I’d rather get you in a proper bed. Uhm, I wanted to thank you for everything and… apologize for being disrespectful when we first met. ”
She took a moment thinking things over.
“I’d have loved to have you as Charity’s boyfriend but would probably be jealous knowing how good you are in bed. Might want to start taking your workout a little more seriously if you can’t keep up with an old lady like me; hell, I imagine Charity put your lights out every time you two slept together. You should really be careful sleeping around her because she has a tendency to put her fingers in the most inconvenient places. Her old boyfriend Jayson called me up one time to “tell on my daughter” after she coerced him into letting her milk his prostrate. We were laughing about it all weekend… God, I miss my best friend. I miss Charity so much. Guess I should have been a mother instead of her friend.”
She was folding my clothes as she spoke, stopping to reflect a little longer.
“Maybe we can see one another again some time, but I need to get it together and reclaim that career I threw my motherhood away for. For your information, Charity threatened to expose me with the footage from the nanny cam in the living room if I interfered in William’s marriage. That means I’m done, but it doesn’t diminish your good works, so I did uh, this today. Call me sometime; but only when you’ve got your stamina up considerably. I want to see if you can hang with me. Eat your Wheaties.”
The clip ended at just under seven minutes.
I sat there still feeling blasted out playing the clip two more times before my gaze drifted to the microwave which had a secondary note posted on it. Inside was a plate of parmesan chicken over some pasta and some back engineered cheesy garlic bread cut into four nice triangles. Inside the freezer, Angela had taken some vanilla ice cream there and mixed it with a bit of liquid chocolate sprinkled with flecks of strawberry Quick.
“Damn, I might have to marry this bitch.”
I walked to the bathroom to wash my hands returning to a ringing phone.
“Hello?”
“HEY THERE, UHM WE GOTS SOME TROUBLE ROUND HERE!” My brow furrowed at the verbal intrusion into what had been a pretty blissful Sunday.
“Auntie?”
“YEAH, ITS ME!!”
“What happened; did my uncle show up at your hotel room?”
“That’s the least of my worries and by that, I mean our worries because we in this together, right?!”
“What’s going on?”
“Well didn’t seem like you were coming over today and I got up in my lady feelings; kinda started meddling that Andre boy and we got right to it fore your ole’ cousin showed back up over here looking pretty thirsty!” Her southern accent was especially thick.
“JAQUAN OVER THERE?!!”
“YEAH!!”
“Are they over there fighting and shit? Goddammit Esther, that motherfucker shouldn’t be there! I didn’t send over there so he’s going into business for himself! I’m so sorry ma’am…WAIT, MY UNCLE SHOWED UP TOO?!!”
“No listen.”
“DID HE DO SOMETHING CRAZY?!!” My heart was thumping expecting the worst, but she shut me down with this hoarse sounding bellow that shocked me quiet.
“Look I was getting my baby bucket resized and it was all good; then your cousin popped up and we ended up kinda hashing thangs out, even trying to film a little bit of it for prosperity. We got into our fucking something serious afore your old uncle came all a beating on the door like a crazy man! I was sure he thought you was in here stuffing me, but it was both of these fine young men all up in my holes, like that there double stuffed thang! Ain’t done nothing like that before! It hurts so ghud, boy!!”
“ESTHER FOCUS!!”
“OH YEAH!! Well, it took us a minute to realize what was a happening, what with the knocking, beating, and door punching!! I peeped through that little hole in the door and sure enough your uncle was out there done bought himself some henchmen to do you in with the fisticuffs like that there old Cooley high movie and everything!! Your cousin Jaquan was talking scary saying he done left his pistol in his car trunk! I SHUT THAT NOISE DOWN!! Then I gots real smart but your cousin was blabbering too much acting like he was a big muscle bound piece of chocolate that couldn’t smash a sixty four year old man!!”
“WHAT HAPPENED?!!” I shouted, losing my patience, as the phone went silent.
“You don’t have to be all rude like just cause I got fired from the job of being your auntie, boy.” I facepalmed sitting at the kitchen table.
“Look, would you please just tell me what’s going on over there, auntie?”
“Well like I said, it was my bright idea done stopped all that potential foolishness. I got your cousin and Andre to answer the door, with the chain on it of course. I told both of them boys to answer that door without no shirts on but hide their lower halves on the other side while they were all hugged up, romantic like. That hotel security was already out there too, so they shooed my soon to be ex-husband and his goons away. Everybody thought two gay boys was doing it in this room and that was that.”
“Was my father out there?”
“I didn’t see him, no. Matter of fact, I never saw any of those goons, either.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Andre’s missing.”
“WHAT?!!” I screamed before I even realized it.
“NAH-NOW DON’T YOU START LOUD MOUTHING ME BEFORE YOU HEAR THANGS OUT!!…now look, I thought it was all cleared up and wanted your cousin to kick rocks and maybe take that Andre boy with him, but he didn’t want to do that even though he knew how messy my situation was; then he tried to nope out on me while Andre was in that little bedroom packing up his thangs. My soon to be ex-husband wasn’t exactly gone but was ducking down under that door peep hole. He tried to Bum rush your cousin Jaquan, but it was like a man fighting a baby fore thangs got back under control. They kind of hugged it out on account of Jaquan fibbing a whole lot.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Andre’s missing.”
“Excuse me?”
“The boy, Andre with them thirteen inches; he’s gone.” It took a moment for it to sink in as I stood in the kitchen staring at the generous plate left behind by a woman trying to make amends and put a tumultuous past in her rear view mirror.
“Gone?”
“He probably slipped out when my husband got in trying to box Jaquan.”
“Shit.”
“Ah, just thought you should know.” I crossed my arms across my chest taking a deep breath starting to work things out in my mind.
Finding Angela on my doorstep the previous night turned out to be a serendipitous turn of events that put me far, far away from what could’ve been a disaster. My worlds were starting to merge together, and I was hard pressed to get things under control before a second metaphorical big bang occurred. It had been a while since I was challenged by a certain infamous baby mamma number two about what I would do if things got out of the bag regarding my career as an online porn director. It was go time.
“Where’s Jaquan; is he still there?”
“Well uh, yeah he….”
“PUT HIM ON THE PHONE!!” I cut her off tersely without thought.
“Uhm, yeah cuz?”
“What’re you doing there?”
“Oh uh, I was here for the shoot; remember you told me to be down here uh, kinda early? So, I was just doing what you said cuz, uhm time is money and shit, right? Oh yeah, we kind of rehearsed a little with my iPhone, but Andre was being dumb, fucked it all up, man; we got a little something though.”
“You’re lying, did you see Andre leave?”
“No, I had my hands full, cuz; remember you told me to come back here for the shoot? How’re you going to be saying I’m lying when you endorsed this shit?”
“Not now, we’ll talk about it later; I’m facetiming, and you will do exactly what I say, okay?”
“Hey man…”
“Jaquan, do you remember when I was little and used to stay at your house on weekends because my mom didn’t want me to see her boyfriend staying over? Remember you used to make fun of me watching cartoons, but you watched the shit with me too, then called me a nerd. Remember that shit, bruh?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Just say you remember.”
“Yeah, sure cuz.”
“Tell me what we used to watch?”
“That old Transformers cartoon; yeah, used to love that badass Optimus Prime. He was the fucking man, eh robot.”
“Remember that last shitty season; the crappy cheap one after they made that movie. I’m not talking about the generic crap they put out years later to make a buck off that dumbass Michael Bay movie; I’m talking about the shit where that human boy character was all grown up with a family of his own, remember?”
“You taking about that fucking head masters bullshit?”
“Yeah; now why did we hate that shit, bruh?”
“They did this creepy shit where the motherfucking Autobots could take their heads off. Yeah, they made their fucking head into these ironman suits for the regular people. That stuff was Hella weird, but why’re bringing that shit up, cuz?”
“Because I’m your FUCKING HEAD MASTER Jaquan!”
“WHAT?!!” I’d already sent the facetime request right at the end of my roundabout burn. His face appeared in front of me looking guilty as fuck. My brow furrowed at the thought that he would try to gaslight me and discount him being a pussy hound.
“Face me outward, I don’t want to see your face; we’ve got some work to do and I’m too fucking trashed to come over there without good reason when I can use a perfectly good, mindless body like yours, nigga.”
“Hey man!”
“Stop saying that and turn the phone around so that I can see where we’re going, Jaquan. There you go bruh, oh hey auntie. Give me a minute with your phone please?” My field of vision pivoted as my cousin did as he was told, aiming Esther’s phone across the room.
I found her sitting on the edge of a very disheveled bed wrapped in a plush terrycloth robe wide eyed. Her head was wrapped with a scarf, and I somehow focused on a number of visible hickies all about her neck and the exposed portions of her chest. Her packed cornfed hourglass figure was almost impossible to hide or make presentable evidenced by her partially exposed breasts and mound staring me in the face through the phone.
Esther glanced down noticing her bare mound, then pulled the open halves of the robes together.
“Jaquan take me to that room Andre was sleeping in last night.”
“He was out here dumping on old girl when I got here, cuz.” My right eye twitched as I ran my hand over the back of my head palming it.
“Take me to that smaller room over there Jaquan; I’m sure you can see the shit in front of your face, right?” He groaned clearly wanting to yell or cuss me out but went with it shoving the door open. On the other side of the door, I found the horrific mess Andre made of the room. Housekeeping hadn’t shown up yet, which was a boon for my purposes.
“Damn, it smells like feet and ass up in here!” Jaquan commented out of view. ”
“Shut up and get in there.” He timidly stepped inside the smaller bedroom Andre had been using since we started the weekend shoot.
“Why am I doing this shit?”
“Just scan the room with the phone so that I can see if I can find something, a clue alright, bruh?”
“Scan?”
“JUST WAVE IT AROUND!”
The FaceTime view became a blur of motion for a few seconds.
“NOT LIKE THAT YOU GOOF!!”
“Sorry.”
“Forget it; hey, aim the phone down at the floor next to the bed.” All of the bedding was crumpled up on the floor in a mess with the cheap tote bag his wife bought him to carry around his work uniform, left behind.
“What is it?”
“Move some of that stuff out of the way on the floor.”
“Ew, fuck no cuz!”
“JAQUAN!!”
My thirtysomething cousin begrudgingly did as I asked, uncovering Andre’s tote bag fully. He surprised me by picking it up and placing it on the bed, unzipping it fully. I inspected the contents as he gingerly fished around inside the bag, getting frustrated enough to just dump it out on the half bare mattress.
“There!!”
“What is it; I don’t see no phone or anything.”
“I got his fucking phone Jaquan; I’ve been keeping it in my bag while I worked on his situation with the wife. There was no way I was leaving it with Andre so that he could fuck up my plan.”
“You should leave well enough alone; he’s cool with it, so that’s his business.”
“Would let somebody do that to you for nothing in return? No money, no nothing while pimping you out online like some prized bull?”
“Ain’t that what you’re doing?”
“He’s getting paid; and his wife is pocketing that shit while getting hers out of his backend, negro. We both know he’s kind of touched in the head, but I can’t sit up and let somebody take advantage of him in good conscious, Jaquan.”
“Oh yeah; where’s my check?'”
“Send me an invoice.” I didn’t miss a beat retorting almost immediately the moment he finished speaking. It was never part of the plan to bring Jaquan inside my circle from the get-go.
His involvement came as a Darkhorse strategy by his infamous baby mamma number two, designed to hide her true intentions of ghosting him while simultaneously reinventing herself as the racially ambiguous girlfriend of a wealthy simp. Their toddler daughter would be left behind as a sort of “mole” to keep tabs on him. Sometimes when I thought about how clueless Jaquan was to the whole thing, it seemed as if he were Andre’s spiritual brother unable to see the forest for the trees. He never asked, preferring not to know the full extent of his baby mamma’s plan.
I didn’t push, but sometimes considered it.
“You’re really gonna pay me?”
“Yeah, but I’m not paying for the shit Renee shot with you because I wasn’t there. Everything else, you can name your shitty price and I’ll cash app you on the spot. Furthermore, as a grown ass man you shouldn’t be harboring unresolved issues with a nigga that owes you money; it’s not masculine, bruh. Your own baby mamma always made sure I was paid on time so I’m sorry about messing up with you.”
“Hey man it ain’t like that; we’re family.” It sounded like Jaquan was backpedaling.
“You don’t have to remind me; pull that box out of the bag, hold it in front of the phone until I tell you to stop. Nuh, no turn that serial number on it towards me.” He turned the package as requested as I got out a pen scribbling the exposed serial number on a piece of paper.
“Uh, it’s cool; I can wait a little while for the money.” That was true as my cousin lived on a stipend provided by his well to do mother who worked in the medical field. She was a well-paid doctor for a few decades before shifting into an executive position at the hospital afterwards. For all intents and purposes my cousin was a low tier trust fund baby which was probably one of the reasons Renee (Infamous Baby Mamma #2) hooked up with him beside the obvious.
“Just name your price; now you going to help me out with Andre and the first order of business is finding out where he went.” His backpedaling irritated me as I retrieved a laptop from the desk in my bedroom.
“How’re you going to do that?”
“Let me worry about that for now; be ready to move when I call you, so just hang out there for a minute.”
“What uhm, it’s been kind of crazy over here today, cuz.”
“You weren’t thinking about that when you were beating Esther’s back out with Andre; so, you can’t give me a minute or two to make sure Andre is, okay?”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“I need you Jaquan; if you feel different, just open the fucking hotel room door and walk out.”
“Look cuz…”
“If you feel different, just open the door and walk the fuck out.”
There was a long pause as he considered my unstated ultimatum still in possession of Esther’s phone. My facetime view shifted as he turned towards the main part of the presidential suite which centered on Esther bent over apparently retrieving her panties from the floor next to the bed. The terrycloth robe covering her nude body rode up partially exposing a good portion of her big, floppy longish donk. Her cornfed derriere really was so big you could see it from the front. Jaquan didn’t realize I shared his point of view remotely drifting closer revealing Esther tugging on the stubborn underpants. They were stuck on something as she realized he was looking, standing up quickly tugging down on her robe.
“Hey!” She looked startled.
“OH, UHM SORRY! My cousin said I should wait here for a minute or two while he take care of something; he’s gonna call us back!” Jaquan sounded shaky and guilty as sin as her gaze centered on my face plainly seen on the face of her phone.
“I can see his face on my phone, Jaquan!”
“Huh? OH YEAH!!” I got a bit of shaky cam as his face appeared briefly before Esther snagged her phone slapping his hand in the process. The view eventually centered on her weathered features catching a fleeting glimpse of my cousin looking butthurt.
“What’s going on? What’d you fine in that there bedroom?”
“Can you go in the bathroom for a minute, just leave the door cracked if you get my drift.”
“Okay whatever you want.” My wayward auntie went into the bathroom leaving the door slightly open getting my drift peering out into the presidential suite eyeballing Jaquan.
“I’m gonna find Andre and have my cousin pick him up if it’s feasible; I got the serial number off his Switch so I’m gonna call their customer service to track it.”
“That’s a thing; you can really do something like that these days?”
“Yeah auntie; I just want you to make sure he stays there while I take care of this shit. If he leaves, it’s okay but I’m really trashed today. If push comes to shove, I’ll do it myself, but I’d rather he take care of this nonsense.”
“What happened; you were good the other day last time I saw you?”
“Don’t worry about it; can you uh, watch Jaquan?” I raised a brow staring at her face in silent implication. She was holding the phone low near the middle of her abdomen giving me a view up at the undersides of her partially hidden cleavage threatening to spill out of her robe.
“Alright now, you want to be extra, but I’m caught up in a rock and a hard place. We’ll see what happens and take it from there. Gotta be honest; feels a lot like I’m dealing with the devil in you now; damn, you sure are slick, ain’t you?”
“What do you think?” I replied slyly removing the plate prepared for me from the microwave. Angela’s hard work was not going to waste, and I hoped things could be resolved without me being involved directly.
“I think I done bit that apple and now I’m being kicked out of the garden of Eden.”
“Are you calling me a snake?”
“Well, I like snake; been playing with some pretty big snakes all weekend, too.”
“I’ll call back as soon as possible; have fun auntie.”
We ended the facetime mutually.
I looked up customer service for Andre’s game on my laptop dialing up the number.
************************************************************************************
[2 HOURS EARLIER]
Esther found herself looking up at the round light fixture on the ceiling of the presidential suite. She was lying splayed out with her arms and legs pointing in opposite directions wearing nothing but a simple fifties styled night slip with the brassiere cups sewn into the flimsy silken garment. It was the first time in her life that she legitimately had nothing to do. For as long as she could remember, it was part of her routine to get busy cooking and cleaning, running errands and managing the household for her disinterested husband. She’d long given up her career after a series of misfortunate events left her unemployed. A wayward associate, barely a friend talked Esther into doing something a little strange for some change.
Her mind was being propelled backwards through time at light speed through her past and history with the man who’d looked to make her an honest woman after a night of compensated passion. It was her third “party” dancing with that decidedly street friend and her cousin. The first time she’d been more of an observer eventually coaxed into peeling off the Brazilian jeans that were skintight on her huge elongated butt and decent shaped legs.
They were the high waisted kind with this nice shiny row of four buttons in the front. Everybody conscious now in her late thirties at the time, underneath was a yellow bodysuit, shapewear to help shore up the parts she wasn’t comfortable with. The back was a thong which helped her large, jiggly buttocks stay free and comfortable. This had the unintended effect of making her enormous donk look incredible and jiggly. Someone commented that her butt looked like a whole waterbed stuffed into those jeans. It was akin to wearing a sausage casing in some respects. Modesty claimed the rest of her ensemble with a billowy embroidered peasant top hiding her upper half.
She mostly stood off to the side with her crafty friend explaining that she was a “cousin” who’d come to make sure things were safe for what was intended to be this impromptu bachelor party. There were about eight men there, mostly in their forties and up with one continually shooting her interested looks while she kept her butt facing the hotel room door.
Most of her life, trouble followed that butt whenever it popped up in public also earning scorn and outright attacks from her female peers. Her face kept things honest with guy more than willing to sleep with her, even pay but reticent to claim or be seen in public with Esther. Over the years, she chalked the experience up to keeping her honest about her prospects. Being told that she was butt ugly and looked like a mule had the effect of making her criminally reserved. Most of her somewhat romantic interludes were done on the low behind closed doors for this reason.
Despite the fact that she was not involved with the party, eyes continually drifted in her direction. Her associates were of the big and tall variety. Her friend was tall and thin with badly enhanced bolt-on tits and a BBL that looked out of place perched atop her rail thin legs while her friend was short and chunky with a squarish midsection that approximated the shape of a rectangle, like the pink erasers artists used when drawing. The seconds butt the huge, massive but shaped like a box with a deep gluteal cleft that somehow clapped loosely when she twerked, visually tragic.
The raucous atmosphere, loud music and weed smoke were heady enough as she erred on the side of caution being standoffish and aloof with a few of the men until they were sufficiently turned off. Part of the reason she behaved in this manner was due to the nasty glares the other two women were shooting her. Eventually that interested gentleman sidled up to her leaning against the hotel room door introducing himself earnestly offering her a beer. She tried to give him the business, but he was persistent to a fault earning her confidence as they made small talk and engaged in playful banter.
Grady was a widower who’d recently lost his wife impressing upon her that it had been a while since he had a woman. They went back and forth lightly playing the dozens while the other men were occupied until he called her continued bluffing offering several hundred dollars bills waved under her nose. Their banter and back and forth interactions were peppered with Esther giving him repeated glimpses at her huge butt in those skintight back pocketless denim jeans. The rest of the party joined in chortling, jeering and shouting until Esther mounted a love seat in the room popping her huge butt like she meant it.
Liquid courage be damned, Esther went at it a woman possessed perhaps motivated by the cheers and encouragement just as much as the three cans of beer. It seemed like a moment frozen in time as her big, popping butt freed itself from her jeans rising like baking bread. Both cheeks looked as if they were being inflated with a bike pump finally bursting free lighting up the room. Thia brought the house down perhaps a bit too much as things got raucous to the point that hotel security was dispatched to the room. Esther managed to slip out and into a rear corridor finding that Grady followed her right out as the security guards cleared the room. After things were settled in the main corridor, they hashed it out.
Esther found herself in another hotel room on an upper floor with this man encouraged with two grand into giving him a private dance. Things of course got out of hand with Grady ending up with a weekend to remember. He couldn’t keep his hands off her monster butt as Esther twerked and bounced on his lap to music from his phone in the hotel room in the middle of the night. The portly short round man buried his face between the cheeks nipping at the material until his tongue slipped inside. After an intense round of oral sex, Esther allowed him to wedge his cock between the buns grinding out an epic load.
That night stretched into the weekend, and they were never apart from that moment onward.
Today in the present; a fortysomething Esther was looking at the rest of an uncertain life going forward.
“Aw shit, what’re you doing with your fucking life.” The divorce paperwork delivered to her suite came into view obscuring the ceiling above as she considered things post discovery.
Grady cheated first, which plunged her into a dark place fueled by her own distinct issues with self-worth. Esther told herself the cheating came at the tail end of the loss of her shine. There was no doubt she was his trophy, role she accepted along with being a stay-at-home wife. He was too jealous to risk letting her get a job preferring to keep this woman under his umbrella. Growing pains took a toll on their relationship when he realized his living trophy and all her ridiculous curves, were human. Esther was always strong willed, and this caused conflict and some sleeping on the couch until he stepped out.
“Can’t lay up in this bed all day; sides I gotta get myself presentable for them cameras.” The weathered mature sat up in bed taking another glance at the paperwork in hand before tossing it onto the floor.
She glanced about the room looking at the mess created by her temporary roommate and on camera partner, Andre 13.5. Her “business partner” of convenience had pressed her into hosting the stud presumably for a night which had become an issue as she looked about the suite with an exasperated sigh. Room service trays littered the desktop along with a large half full box of pizza. Half of a six pack of soda had been downed along with her more conventional meal ordered while watching him scarf down everything else like he hadn’t eaten in months.
“It’s like having a kid.” Esther commented to herself, looking towards the smaller bedroom off to the side where he’d taken up shop. The telltale sounds of his Nintendo Switch signaled he’d been up for a while playing to the exclusion of all else as she trudged off to the bathroom planting her huge butt on the toilet. Everything felt surreal after she’d received the divorce decree, oddly disconnected as she took a morning whiz.
The memories returned starting with her reaction to the discovery of his infidelity and that first confrontation which trashed the first floor of their home starting with a duel of skillets in the kitchen. Grady was mostly using his to deflect the powerful blows as she swung for the fences. His stainless steel number was no match for the heavy cast iron skillet that had been passed down for generations in her family. At least three other men had been waylaid with that skillet for one offense or the other with a life being saved from an overzealous home invader during the late fifties.
The aftermath of that dustup left them separated in the house for a good four months sorting things out as she considered whether or not she wanted to stay. Most of her friends and acquaintances were split down the middle with half wanting her to stay because of his wealth and the others encouraging her to get out of the marriage and try to fleece as much money out of the short, chubby misanthrope as legally possible.
During a week of hashing things out with periodic bouts of hysterical bonding, Esther had become further incensed after finding out Grady cheated with a morbidly obese grandmother who stroked his ego at one of their many backyard parties. He’d paraded his side piece around his friends and relatives surreptitiously. It felt like everybody was in on the joke which killed something inside her dry freezing her shattered heart as she called him inside for an uncontested bout of fisticuffs after confronting him with the irrefutable evidence. There was nothing Grady could do but return to the party and play off his obvious wounds leaving her to fume alone in the house. Afterwards, she took a separate bedroom.
Later, Grady paid for renovations to the adjoined attic with its entrance exclusively in her bedroom.
“You started it, numb nut.” Esther finished washing herself still recalling the initial war of roses that led her to the main bathroom of a presidential suite in the present.
The fire in her chest was as familiar as the stinging sensation at the corner of her brown eyes. She took a few deep breaths leaning forward flattening her palms against the shower walls feeling the strong spray. The feel of hot water hitting between her shoulder blades down to the upper swell of her huge rear end. Her face followed getting the full blast to its weathered surface and the inside of her mouth.
“You started it, you dense motherfucker!” The words were coming out of her mouth as she recalled the roundtable held over the phone with a number of her friends, some frenemies in the mix as well. She was encouraged to take advantage of the situation for a “get back” and instructed to make sure it was with a guy that would make him nearly check out when he found out, even one of his friends or relatives. The collective harpies told her their state of residence was No-Fault which was like a blank check for cheating on a simp who had the nerve to fuck a gross, fatty when he had wifed up a baddie.
“YOU STARTED IT!!” Esther bellowed under the powerful steaming spray. She’d begrudgingly hopped on Tinder which started another in-house feud when she made it known to her husband. Nothing came of it due to her including one pic of her face culled from an expired driver’s license. It seems, guys weren’t interested with some leaving a fair share of disparaging comments telling her to use a senior dating site.
It was a defeat unimaginable for someone who struggled with self-worth issues for most of her life, until a friend instructed her to replace that picture with one of her big elongated cornfed butt stuffed haphazardly into her husband’s favorite pair of booty shorts. Grady bought these denim tasseled edged shorts that were supposed to look homemade but fit like skintight panties riding high on her hips, making her feel uncomfortable even though she only wore them at home. Her cheekage was ridiculous.
The new pic blew up the internet with her inbox flooded to capacity in under three hours.
Even after adding the first picture as a secondary buffer, Esther found herself going through scores of salacious online overtures and dick pics from potential suitors. There were outright offers of money in exchange for sexual favors that got progressively more deranged and sexually perverted until she deleted her profile, still feeling defeated on some level. Things got progressively worse when she discovered that single pic shared on a number of online porn forums. A few also included her secondary pic coupled with the other under the eponymous title “Butterface Baddie.”
In the end her original friend fixed her up with a “sure thing” in the person of a big muscle bound plumber who reminded her of actor John Amos from the old Good Times show. He was nice enough during their dinner date and charming enough to get her into a motel room during a detour while driving her home, which was actually her friend’s apartment building. He was good in bed, but selfish other than his horse cock refusing to go down on her and trying to go exclusively doggy style which reminded of her formative years in her last year of high school. Esther knew he didn’t want to look at her face but went with it anyway out of diminishing spite for her wayward husband.
Later she found out he gave her a fake number ghosting her after getting what he wanted; namely her huge meaty and packed cornfed derriere. Her friend confessed to vetting the guy after catfishing him online with Esther’s booty pic. She was chided for not giving a fake name as instructed and sent packing after a tense exchange. There was no doubt she would be clowned by her friend circle for getting played and admitting it openly. Esther drifted away from these people eventually working things out when Grady finally capitulated with a tiffany bracelet. The estranged couple’s frenzied sexual makeup session was undoubtedly fueled by mutual guilt and shame. Grady would stray again with a more suitable rival while Esther modified and perfected her own cheating technique, keeping a FWB for a few months.
“Look at you Esther girl; you’re a fucking mess and that old nigga probably laying up with some stanking hoochie in your marital bed, no less. He thinks he’s got it like that just cause he finally got the drop on me after fifteen fucking years. Couldn’t get it up for five of them goddamn years, either. Look at you girl!”
She stood there nude looking at her honest reflection in the big rectangular mirror which seemed to be taunting her with the truth of her age. Her body had always been the equalizer in romantic situations when her face discounted others perception of her, personally speaking. Her age was there like a hard slap to the cheek, wrinkles, some inconvenient creases and prominent stretchmarks. Esther flinched suddenly going into her big satchel bag retrieving her makeup kit, working profusely to restore what she considered fake beauty. In her early thirties, the woman had taken some cosmetology classes learning how to apply makeup with professional flair. This aspect of her skillset was kept from her husband.
“Lipstick on a pig.” Esther commented looking at her renewed soft focus reflection.
It didn’t take much to shave a few years off her actual age, but no one was mistaking her for a twenty something anytime soon. She finished up everything by coating her lips in a rich shade of burgundy. Lashes and soft smokey eyeliner brought out her eyes making them crackle with energy while her jowly countenance worked until her cheekbones were more prominent. She thought about sending her soon to be ex-husband a selfie but was too scared to wake the proverbial beast.
“Yeah, ah bet he laying up in my bed fucking his little tin can whore; probably even took one of them blue pills, too.” Esther chafed at the thought of someone defiling her bedroom. Grady was obliged to visit her for sex the last few years but kicked out post nut clarity for snoring too much.
“Old dusty fucker; ah wonder how you found me out.” She went into one of the plastic shopping bags on the counter removing a vintage pinup bullet cone brassiere. Esther didn’t know if she liked the pointy cones as she slipped it on tugging it snuggly into place. Her preference leaned towards sports bras that let her move more freely, feeling unencumbered. Her in-law director knew what he was doing as evidenced by the pics she’d viewed from their photoshoot and concurrent porn shoot, a day prior.
Her cleavage bulged outward decadently as visions of her ex-husband losing his mind seeing her this way flittered about her mind. The mind movies were intermingled with images of him and his new lady.
“I’ll fix your stoopid ass, you old fucker!” Esther removed a pair of seamed thigh high stockings sliding them up her thick shapely legs one after the other sitting on the closed toilet plagued with thoughts, she knew were hypocritical.
A shiny pair of heels followed from a shiny bag; shoes brought for a final shoot that she intended to test out. There was one more wig to use, but she opted to keep her head wrapped in the scarf she’d been wearing in place of a bonnet. Esther also opted out of the remaining sets of panties at her disposal preferring to go bottomless as she took some selfies using a stick left behind by her young benefactor.
The Educated Simp knew how to shoot women in a way that maximized their beauty and curves tenfold. Esther thought about all the times she’d caught him looking clearly embarrassed when she stared back feigning anger. She knew the look of a man who wanted her body and was flattered at the attention, though secretly ashamed for attracting his eyes. She’d almost come on to his father after finding out the identity of the other woman and seeing the morbidly obese hussie.
She ultimately decided against this knowing instinctively that he would’ve jumped her bones with impunity. That would’ve been something she could’ve never come back from and remained married despite egging on from her suspect friend group. It seemed as if he knew, but she thought Grady might be setting her up. Their all too brief exchange ended with her slapping the shit out of him with a wet soapy dishrag. He’d gotten uncomfortably close while she was washing some pans in the kitchen sink.
Esther stuck a few poses now thinking about the tryst with the man’s son who was now her defacto boss and sometimes lover. It was kind of catch as catch can with them doing it when sexual opportunities presented themselves. He seemed somewhat innocent in matters of the flesh but shocked her by handling her curves and big elongated country butt like he owned them. He fucked her so hard that first time in her private attic room, that she was forced to deny her husband sex until her cunt stopped throbbing. Grady was none the wiser with his own secret hookup he thought she didn’t know about.
Her in-law nephew was all man between the sheets, but deceptively innocuous otherwise and business minded to a fault already running a successful online porn site. That was, until lately after he was jointly exposed alongside her. Shades of black would cover his reputation like nuclear winter, indefinitely.
“You’re gonna be crying for this ass when ahm gone, Grady.” Esther cupped her breasts together making them bulge to the point of nearly bursting from the conical brassiere. Her director knew what he was doing when he applied a sixties aesthetic to her work and online content. Fans really thought it was old footage and she was okay with that after a single pic of her huge butt caused so much existential grief.
She took a few selfies before shame set in, making her drop and sit down on the closed toilet again. Esther remembered the early days when she took a leap of faith moving from Houston taking a flight to be with her supposed man. Still unsure, Esther left her things in the pull-on suitcase for over six months before she felt safe unpacking them. After the first infidelity, Esther packed up that pull-on suitcase, leaving it at the entrance to their bedroom which resulted in the fight and skillet duel.
Grady’s affair partner obviously tired of being on the down low, decided to text Esther while he was asleep in her bed post coitus. A pic of the nude snoozing man with his “very used” business exposed followed sending Esther into hysterics. After beating her husband from pillar to post, Esther took up residence in a motel partially worried she’d be arrested, until her friend group talked her into returning to the home so that Grady couldn’t claim she deserted the home in divorce court.
She still bristled at the video clip his side chick sent with the big, obese ghetto mature tragically twerking making it clap while a baby could be heard crying uncontrollably somewhere in the background. This woman was trying to run her out of the house which made Esther double down and approach Grady in house for a kitchen sit-down. He admitted being blackmailed to continue the affair by the woman’s real husband who was engaging in a grift. The whole thing had been premeditated. Esther went through his phone finding the text threats, collecting the call logs from their shared phone plan.
Her opinion of Grady hit rock bottom outside of the infidelity as she took the evidence to the authorities promptly ending the affair. That portly, badly built mother of five and grandmother of three was indicted along with her husband, who himself had a laundry list of priors and more than a few standing warrants across three states. With everything tied up nice and tight, Esther was left in charge of Grady’s finances, managing another few years where he strayed again once having a tragically short memory of the value she added to his life.