“Shit let’s get out of here.” Rashida was ready to bolt.
“You said you wanted to do this; now you’ve got cold feet?”
“Negro you should’ve talked me out of it.”
“So, you’re false flagging on your own brand that we been building up since I took over your ledger; is that right girl? Didn’t we just launch two teaser trailers over the last twenty-four hours and lets not forget how much money’s run through your cash app since then. Those simps watching your stuff are foaming at the mouth dying to pay you; and you’re scared. So, you don’t like money now?”
Rashida looked as if I’d shot her pointblank in the chest, then tucked her chin glancing downward at the raincoat covering her traffic stopping figure. When she looked back up at my face, she was smiling.
“That’s why you are The Educated Simp daddy; I knew you’d know what to say if I get skittish.”
I tapped my cheek with my pointer finger getting a light peck from her luscious lips.
“I’m still not going up there and if it goes over, I’m out. My boss is notorious for waiting at the time clock to write people up.”
“I got it.”
“Do you, huh?”
“Yeah.” She still sounded a little shaky while I lightly rubbed her back mentally forcing myself not to let my hand run over the still visible upper swell of her sixty plus inches of online fame.
“What’s your name?”
“Thunda.”
“Say it right bitch.”
“THUNDA!!” Rashida shouted getting a loud hollow echo quickly cupping a hand over her mouth.
We were standing in the lobby of a skyscraper downtown about five miles away from my job on campus. We worked out that I would remain in the lobby while she went up to the station and conducted the interview. I’d edited at least three scenes for release on the premium portion of her page and we were in discussion about doing some sort of Meet and Greet zoom event.
The lobby of this building was cavernous.
We were facing the concierge desk manned by a single female security guard who was staring back at us with what can only be termed “resting bitch face” under a mountain of erratic braids.
Rashida nudged my arm directing my attention to what appeared to be an intern walking across the lobby to greet us. The bespectacled blonde female was dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans and chucks with a station pass hanging about her neck. Her shirt was emblazoned with the 96K-Jay logo with Sly and Sydney proudly displayed as part of its design.
“Hi, I’m Irma. I work as a P.A. for Sly and Sydney and you are uh, the Thunder Girl, right?” She offered her hand to Rashida while giving me the side eye like I was Ms. Sike’s pimp.
“Thunda, that’s all.” I was surprised to find Rashida subdued shaking the girl’s hand. I suspected this production assistant would make expeditious use of hand sanitizer once she completed her assignment. Her smile was mannequin fake.
“That’s special, I’ve been sent to collect you, and uh, your friend too.” Rashida shot me a look mutely worried I’d verbally give Irma the business.
“I think I’m gonna wait here instead Irma, thank you very much.”
“Suite yourself.”
“Daddy, uhm…” Rashida stopped herself realizing that she played into a stereotype, but I smiled taking her hand finding her palm clammy. She really was nervous at the precipice of going public in her Thunda identity.
“It’s cool Rashida, I’ll be right here and don’t forget who you are baby. This is your time now, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What’s your name?”
“Thunda.”
“No, that’s not how you do it girlfriend; show Irma how we do it.”
Rashida stripped off the raincoat revealing her ensemble of the denim crop top while the daisy dukes were replaced with a denim mini-skirt that put her oiled stallion legs on full display. Her feet were covered in denim stiletto heels completing her look.
She looked sculpted, show stopping and innately delicious. Her braids were incredible with some shoulder length curly extensions that added to her exotic allure.
“OH SHIT!!” All three of us were distracted by the loud verbal reaction to Rashida’s appearance.
Across the lobby off to one side was the entrance to the building elevators cordoned off by an airport style metal detector. Two uniformed security guards were the culprits with one guy already filming her with his own meager android phone.
I glanced over finding Irma looking Rashida up and down, mouth hanging open visibly salivating. Rashida eventually noticed too raising a brow as the intern collected herself quickly.
“CUT-IT-OUT BARRY!! I’M GONNA REPORT YOU!!” Irma yelled without looking.
“It’s okay I’m used to it Irma.”
“OMFG, that’s horrible Thunda; I’d like to hear all about it in the green room.” She was fawning all over my running buddy and FWB who looked a bit leery of the attention.
“Take care of this for me Irma.” I purposely tossed Rashida’s raincoat over her head already stalking off as she snatched it off.
“Sorry about that he’s just playing.” Rashida helped get the coat off Irma’s head shooting me a half smirk.
“It’s okay, uh who does your hair? I think it’s really pretty.”
“Uhm, licensed cosmetologist here; this way right?” I was already walking to a bench hands shoved in my pockets while the women made small talk.
“Yeah, don’t worry the green room is safe for your coat. We’ve got a lot of security in here.” Both of them were a few feet away approaching the metal detector where one guard was happily waiting with a wand in hand. Irma waved him off with a scowl bypassing the door while his partner continued filming with his phone.
“What ya’ll looking at?” Rashida glibly addressed the horndogs making me smile to myself as I had a seat.
Then I was alone.
The sheer size of the lobby made it feel as if I were sitting on the surface of the moon.
Peering around the cavernous lobby of the building yielded only the custodian going about the unenviable task of cleaning the tiled floors while the security guard busied herself with her phone. I was starting to wonder if I was making a big deal out of things and should’ve gone upstairs to the green room anyway.
Something was just innately telling me that I didn’t want to be seen up there after the Takisha situation. Revealing Rashida to the world was a calculated move but brought with it some issues I didn’t want right at the moment.
I glanced over at the guard again who was paying no attention to me conversing on her phone. I wondered how much the portly sister made sitting on her butt at a concierge desk all day pulling out my own phone. My eyes drifted upwards to the mounted security cam over the revolving door.
I had this sort of creeping feeling that I was being watched.
I went to my phone pulling up the station’s live stream finding Rashida already sitting there on one side of the room with Sly and friends occupying the other side. That portly comedian was sitting a few feet over earning the wary side eyes attention of Rashida.
She knew a shark when she saw one and I wasn’t worried she could hold her own if push came to shove up there. For some reason I was having trouble getting the show to play on my phone.
“Hey there King.”
“Huh?” I looked up from my phone to my immediate left along the one story marble wall finding 96K-Jay cohost Sydney peering out from the corner looking at me.
“Excuse me but aren’t you uh, Thunda’s little friend?” I tilted and rolled my neck inadvertently responding to the question before I’d even realized it.
“Uh, yeah?” I responded making it sound like a question.
“You wanna come up to the green room?”
“Nah, I’m good right here.” I averted my gaze from her hunching over peering at the face of my phone which was still having issues getting video service inside the building.
Inside I was starting to bristle hoping Rashida hadn’t made me. I recalled being invited to participate in this woman’s afternoon radio show geared towards a female audience almost exclusively. I’d sidestepped that shit out of necessity accomplishing the coming out party for one Ms. Sikes in grand fashion.
I hunched over making a visible show of drawing my knees together kind of facing away from her with my face buried in my android. Unfortunately her footfalls were heard approaching which instantly put me into defensive mode.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come up to the green room; we have catering and a really nice coffee bar?” Her feet appeared in frame in these newspaper printed open toed platform pumps.
Her toenails were painted canary yellow slightly contrasting with her lighter skin tone.
“Nah, I’m fine down here Sydney.”
“Your girlfriend’s probably gonna be up there for a hot minute; we can get you the password for out Wi-Fi if you come upstairs.” It felt like somebody was dangling a fucking carrot in front of my face.
“We’re just friends thank you. Are we done here?” My attitude flared up out of nowhere as my heart started thumping harder in my chest.
“So, it’s really you?”
“Excuse me?” I glanced up at her for the first time.
Sydney’s face was a picture of soft beauty resembling Jill Scott in her younger days with a defined jawline and her signature red lipstick standing out like a beacon contrasting sharply with a yellow bone skin tone a shade or two darker.
The newspaper print was a theme for her gear this morning extended to the bucket styled hat on her head, the loose fitting maxi dress on her body which was pretty much a giant men’s shirt and the aforementioned pumps. A pair of glasses with oversized frames covered her face but were big enough that I noticed her light green eyes. A plastic encased pass for the radio station hung about her neck.
“Come on you’re him; the Educated Simp?” She framed it like a question, but we both knew I was made.
“Thank you for the offer miss; have a nice day.”
“We can’t talk for a minute or two?”
“We already did and time is money or don’t you have a job to do upstairs?” I wasn’t looking at her face anymore but noticed her shifting her weight from one foot to the other with some light foot play. The dress on her body had these buttons down the front parted just below her knees. I could see that she had some shapely calves.
“How much is your time?”
I looked up finding her there with her arms folded playing with her station pass. She looked amused standing over me with a game smile on her face. I got the impression Sydney felt as if she were intimidating me.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll pay you for an interview; how about uh, two for ten?”
“Two bucks, no thank you.” I chuckled about to look at my phone again.
“Two hundred.”
“What?”
“Two hundred, twenty minutes and I’ll cash app you right now if you agree.” I huffed feeling exasperated knowing what she was trying to do.
Sydney’s afternoon show usually shredded the guys that visited uninformed in a segment called “The Queen’s Corner.”
I’d watched some segments in the past with Rashida, but we both agreed I’d made the right decision not taking Sydney up on her initial offer. I’d taken a drubbing on social media on multiple platforms for my supposed toxic behavior towards Takisha after Rashida’s come up. It worked out for my muse, but I’d reaped the side effects of that decision thankful for my anonymity.
“You just give any stranger two hundred dollars?”
“No, but I’d pay “The Educated Simp” for a bit of his valuable time in-between breaking girl’s hearts.” She made these annoying hand quote gestures when she used my stage name.
“I never said I was him.”
“Then it must be your lucky day because you can make two hundred for basically nothing but talking.” That carrot that was being dangled in front of my nose was snatched away only to be replaced by a bigger one. My ego was screaming at me to take the money and give her the business.
“I think you’d be disappointed with me.”
“Two hundred for the twenty and I add an additional hundred for every ten minutes over. For your information I easily clear six figures annually outside of my endorsements with Lane Bryant and Shien, not to mention my earnings as an influencer on the gram. Basically stop pissing on my dick. Shit or get off the pot; if negative I’ll let everybody know you’re not genuine this afternoon.”
I had to admit she was good at the hard sell, but I’d had a bit of training in her entitled arena from a dark horse alpha hiding in plain sight along with her future alpha in training daughter who was barely out of diapers.
“For the record, I DO NOT consent to my image being used on any platform and have the legal backup to make your head spin at lightspeed both directions. I’ve actually recorded this conversation as we spoke and the threat of doxing which can undoubtedly be twisted into a cyber bullying deal by my lawyer Sydney. Other than that, it would be an honor to participate. However I ain’t going on your fucking show in front of the cameras. You’d be paying for my voice ma’am.”
I leaned back resting against the wall folding one leg over the other as I turned my trusty android’s face in her direction so that she could confirm her recorded threat.
I expected to be “Read” or cussed out, but Sydney simply cocked her head to the side pivoting from one leg to the other.
“You’re him alright and you haven’t rattled me in the least; do you have any idea how bloody contract negotiations can get when the show’s up for renewal? We’ll conduct the interview upstairs in one of the recording studios on the fourth floor; don’t worry no one will see you, so you ain’t gotta sign no autographs or nothing. But I get to do what I want with the audio, capeesh?”
Sydney offered a hand symbolizing a Faustian deal.
“Thunda stays out of your mouth; just shred me for dogging out Takisha, okay or no deal baby?” Her nails were painted canary yellow.
“Taking care of your investment?”
“What do you care?” I shook her hand before standing up finding that we were pretty much the same height.
“Time is money.” Sydney closed her fingers around mine leading me to the elevator which was bordered by a metal detector and two more lazing rent-a-cops.
“Your money.” I replied as Sydney waved the guards away who looked disappointed at the lack of action.
I noticed one guy quickly hide a comic book from view as we passed. She turned facing me capturing both of my hands looking pleased with herself. It felt like I was walking into the belly of the beast, but I resolved to get paid first stopping short of the elevator flashing my phone.
Sydney reached in her pocket removing an expensive looking phone of her own. Two hundred dollars popped up on my faithful cash app while she smiled walking ahead pressing the elevator button.
“Your time, and don’t tell me some shit about it starting the moment I cashed you in my king.”
“Wouldn’t think of it ma’am.”
I stepped into the elevator followed closely by Sydney as she turned her back to me sort of leaning into the wall facing the closing dual doors mashing the fourth floor button. I found myself looking at her in a three fourths profile noticing the subtle bulge of curves hidden underneath her trendy frock and hating myself for it.
Part of me wondered if I was looking at her in that manner because of my proliferation of female associates, friends and FWB’s over the past year or so.
“You have nothing to worry about, I’ll use the kid’s gloves on you.” Sydney noticed me looking thankfully misreading my semi-worried gaze.
“It’s your dime.” This response got her pulling out her phone starting up the recorder despite what she’d said earlier.
“So, I’m here with “The Educated Simp” and he’s already wasted no time starting up with the “negging” used by a number of the shady pickup artists currently lurking about on social media. He’s agreed to give me a moment of his precious time to sort out the Takisha situation.”
I found myself becoming comfortable as my heartrate slowed folding my arms looking her in the eye as she continued.
“He’s refused to appear in the Queen’s Corner this afternoon so we pretty much know it’s a wash with another mentally fragile brother exploiting a tired gimmick that unfortunately got a real queen caught up. My girls out there know how we do it in the corner, so I’m gonna be taking him out back to the shed for some of mamma’s righteous discipline. In the end it’s all about love and respecting our black queens for a proper balance.”
I covered my mouth with my fist arms still folded across my chest making no bones that I was openly amused at her cringe inducing monologue. Sydney paused her recorder looking me up and down.
“Something funny?”
“I take the fifth; maybe you can get it out of me in the shed Sydney.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets as the elevator doors opened revealing some morbidly obese guy sitting on a plastic chair with a light blue collared shirt reading security across the chest. His gut hid his entire lap as I realized he was wearing the shirt backwards.
“So you’re dismissive too, huh? You think that will throw me off and allow you to protect your fragile ego, right?” Sydney waved her station pass at the guard who obviously had no intention of getting out of his chair. There was a metal detector wand sitting on the floor beside his primitive chair as we passed.
“Spoken like a true psychology major; am I right?” Sydney did a doubletake at my response with fluttering eyes accentuated with butterfly lashes behind the glasses.
“Oh, so you’ve looked me up huh; guess you think you’re slick because you can read Wikipedia.”
“Nah, your talk game reeks of a classic run of the mill community college major who likely works a crap intern job when she isn’t flipping burgers.”
“Totally pompous and high off of your own farts; am I right?” Sydney countered.
We shared an uneasy chuckle as she used her station pass to open a thick automated security door which led back into this really narrow corridor bordered on each side by large blackened paneled windows.
I assumed this was the recording studios she spoke of downstairs when making her deal with me for an interview. Sydney removed the badge from her neck walking ahead to the end of the corridor pressing the badge against the automated mounted wall lock allowing me inside.
“We had to put these security measures in because some drill rappers got into a shootout last summer. Some people got lit up and one girl didn’t make it.”
“Shit, I wish you’d told me that before I agreed to come up here.”
“Oh don’t worry, we’ve got state of the art measures installed and three security companies on the premises. I assure you we’re quite safe back here, and alone. Your precious secret identity will be preserved my King.”
“You call everybody King?”
“Lost a bet with a conscious artist on my show a while back, so I use King instead of nigga.” I paused in the doorway to the small cramped space looking her in the face seeing the slur in her eyes.
“Wanna back out?” Sydney offered.
“Why?” I mused walking inside having a look around noticing one of the walls was pretty much a blackened window one sided which allowed me to peer into the adjacent corridor.
It felt like I was in a rat’s maze as she closed and locked the studio door. There was an intercom on the wall next to the thick door which had a small window in it with the same darkened one way glass. Sydney peered through the small window into the corridor before turning in my direction motioning for me to have a seat as she started recording again.
“So I’m told that pics are off the table but I can honestly say he’s about medium cute, okay build from what I can see with a modicum of actual intelligence; uh, maybe he’s holding if I can be quite honest with you ladies out there. Are you; I mean are you holding, down there?”
Sydney found another seat sliding the wheeled chair over facing me in a cramped situation.
“Would you ask a woman the same question?”
“I have; are you worried that perhaps, you don’t measure up?” She was quick looking to rattle me and failing miserably.
“Do you have a tape measure?” I shot back getting even more comfortable with the two hundred dollar conversation. Sydney hesitated for a minute probably caught off-guard by my response.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want to come on the show, you’re so quick witted. Are you in a relationship, and entanglement…maybe you’re married, huh?”
“You get a big fat x on all three questions Sydney; I’m unattached.”
“Forgetting about somebody; maybe your girl upstairs being interviewed on the morning show?”
“We’re friends exclusively and I love fucking her brains out every chance I get. Oops, I’m not supposed to say that, huh?”
“We’re on satellite; terrestrial radio has a delay and separate editing team. You can say whatever you feel like saying here; we’re being candid with one another after all, right?”
“Why did you want to interview me Sydney?”
“I wanted some perspective on the Takisha situation; I think I mentioned that before we started this interview.” She sounded a little defensive, just slightly so but detectable to someone who paid attention to detail like me.
“Well, what exactly are you referring to ma’am?”
“You’ve got this gorgeous woman of means, a model no less, going crazy over you enough to call into Sly’s show looking to get your attention. Normally we’d just dish out some information, but you’ve intrigued us and inquiring minds want to know what’s so special about, you.”
Sydney did the annoying air quotes thing with her hands emphasizing her point.
“I don’t think anything’s special about me; I think her ego got the better of her.” I leaned to the side resting my chin on my fist speaking earnestly visibly relaxed.
“So you’re telling me and the audience you had nothing to do with her going crazy over you; is that right?”
“I fucked her brains out until she tapped out; but she wanted me to do that Sydney. I’d go further about it, but I’ve gotta hold my girl Thunda down.”
Sydney scoffed pausing for a minute before bringing up a soft melody on the adjacent sound board. Jill Scott’s “All I” filled the small cramped studio as she swiveled about in the chair leaning forward with her phone aimed in my direction. I almost commented on her passing resemblance to the iconic artist.
“What about Thunda? Is she your lady?”
“I’ve already said she’s one of my best friends right now and I love fucking her brains out. We have great chemistry together and you know how hard to find something like that is; but no, we’re just friends.”
“Takisha doesn’t seem to think so.”
“That’s her opinion; it’s not my responsibility to placate her ego and she already knew Thunda before I met her. Look, I’m not in the habit of putting people’s business out in the streets like that; and I’m probably gonna fuck Takisha in the ass next time I see her Sydney. Maybe it’s wrong, but I like watching her face when she cums; is that too real of an answer for you ma’am?”
“Only if you’re trying to get a response out of me to end this interview.”
“That’s not how I would get a response out of you.”
“How would you get a response out of me?”
“Two fingers.”
“Huh, what?”
“That’s what it would take to make you cum Sydney; if I may be so bold with absolutely no intention of offending you ma’am. You said you’d uh, use the kid gloves on me, but I feel that was for your benefit more than mine.”
“Tread carefully Educated Simp.”
“No problem, I’m used to hypocrites.”
“Negging again?”
“You’re welcome to your opinion Sydney; did I answer all of your questions ma’am?”
“Everything except one.”
“That being?”
“Are you holding?”
“There’s only one way you’re going to find out Sydney.” I leaned back in the chair studying her face intently noticing she seemed fixated on getting an answer.
She didn’t look comfortable at all with her posture becoming more disjointed as the paid conversation continued. Sydney leaned back letting her phone rest on the arm taking it all in with her legs splayed apart. The big button down the front had come undone at her knees because of her posture giving me a fleeting glimpse of some satiny lace panties. My gaze travelled upward finding her staring intently.
“Are we done here Sydney?”
There was an extended pause during which I realized I could hear her breathing as we sat facing one another before she found the answer to my question.
“Two fingers, huh?” She raised a brow with a wry smile on her face.
I didn’t say anything.
Sydney leaned back in her chair reclining with her hands in her lap regarding me pensively. She eventually moved both hands to the arms of the chair she was sitting on leaving me with an open view of the crotch of her panties.
I leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees weighing my options staring intently at the satiny material stretched skintight across her mound. My own breathing was starting to match hers as I tried to figure out if she were trying to create a detrimental situation.
Sydney reached down drawing her panties to the side exposing her mound which was covered with a smattering of brownish pubic hair. Her cunt was staring me in the face making her thoughts on the unspoken offer clear.
I still hesitated prompting her to use both of her hands to part her labia revealing a rich pink interior that looked currently wet. I glanced up at her face getting a nod of permission and a tilt of her head staring back intently.
I slowly leaned forward elbows on knees drawing Sydney’s chair forward until the edge of mine bumped hers necessitating her legs be raised and hooked over its arms. More buttons came undone from the bottom of her legs as a large pair of shapely, yet sort of flabby gams came into view.
Sydney arched her lower back towards me in anticipation as I realized she was sporting a donk of her own. It could be plainly seen in this angled position as I used both of my hands in addition to hers holding her labia apart.
She was actively huffing watching intently as I leaned over her exposed snatch. Our duel actions brought her puffy looking clit out of its hood looking ready for action as I swished up a deluge of saliva in my mouth. I could see the excitement on her face mouth sort of open in anticipation as a steady stream of drool rained onto her button making it glisten.
Our eyes were locked as I deftly slipped my middle and index fingers inside with my thumb pressing on the clit. My invading digits found her special place with no problem whatsoever starting to tap out the Morris code there.
I leaned further hovering over her lap letting more saliva drizzle down on her clit as I used my thumb to rub and caress it still maintaining eye contact. Sydney’s cunt was initially heated and moist getting noticeably wet after her spot was accessed.
The shape of her narrow yet deep cunt approximately an envelope for lack of a better description. There was an isolated film of perspiration on her face as I baited her getting closer while covertly inserting a third finger. Her chest started heaving as I used my other hand to softly rub her right inner thigh.
Despite her yellowish skin tone there was a slight discoloration of the skin at her inner thighs that seemed to drift into the deep crease that was her butt from my vantage point. Things were becoming humid in the space around us as her light green eyes became slits, mouth huffing.
I was just above her honeypot a tongues length away from her needy button allowing more saliva to drip onto it. Her cunt had this greasy nature to it audibly sticky like molasses. I tickled the tip of her clit making her suddenly groan licking her lips.
“AWWWN!!” Sydney breezily moaned in extended fashion biting a pointer finger.
I knew what she wanted but resolved to deny and tease Sydney to the brink. She started to go after her clit but I beat her to the punch finally locking my lips on her cunt like a lamprey pressing down and massaging her inner thighs.
She wasn’t a small woman at approximately five foot eleven hovering around one eighty, a brick shithouse wrapped in honey hued marshmallow. There was a loud audible slurp that made her cry out followed by these distressed whimpers as she roughly grabbed my head for a few seconds before remembering herself as I disengaged reinserting three fingers with a thumb on her button.
Sydney’s face was coated with perspiration her eyes going between slits and saucers with her button nose flaring mouth hanging open. This goaded me into tapping out a sheet of music on that bumpy ridge inside her snatch while I watched her struggling not to squirm and flop about.
She was steadily sliding down on that seat making her butt come off its edge as I went in again sucking and playing with her pussy like it was my last meal. She popped another button exposing her stomach which while flat, had a slightly jiggly quality to it.
I slid off the seat on my knees with my face still attached to her sopping wet pussy. Sydney accommodated me by holding the heels on her pumps. Essentially she appeared to be double jointed easily assuming this posture despite her natural thickness. My vantage point was incredible from this angle as I reached around her big thighs going at the last three buttons getting two.
The bottoms of somewhat small saggy breasts appeared until I was able to see the piercings in her nipples. I wasn’t surprised the beads were in the colors of red, yellow, and green finding it in line with her overall presentation.
I couldn’t tell her actual age but knew she was older than my enhanced twenty years despite my sexual experience. I applied a pincer type motion to her breasts squeezing them as hard as I could while dining on her most holiest of holies, but only briefly.
I drew back intimately as close as I could get to her steaming cunt looking between Sydney’s inner thighs at the expression on her face. She was breathing hard mostly through her mouth, eyes widened. Three fingers slipped inside attacking her special place while my thumb flicked and massaged her clit until she grabbed one of my ears fit to be tied.
Sydney nearly separated it from my head but relented leaving me with a throbbing sensation both of us huffing. I used both hands spreading her labia wide apart writing the letters of the alphabet just inside on her grooves followed by her clit again before breaking off.
I peered between her big womanly thighs nodding until she followed my movements nodding too.
I unbuckled noticing Sydney nibbling on her pointer finger again excited by the audible sound coming from my actions. My prick was extremely hard pulsing with desire to fill her emptiness.
She grabbed the thin heels on her open toed pumps pulling her folded legs backward further than I would’ve thought possible making her big yellow butt bulge off the edge of the seat halves parting revealing both openings. Sydney whaled as I used her inner thighs standing up between her legs with my business pointed directly at her face waiting.
The radio personality was given ample opportunity to make a visual assessment of my endowment which I was told was just above average. I didn’t care one way or the other if she got her jollies. I didn’t care if I got mine.
“Come on, do it.” Sydney whimpered in hushed tones.
Her hand impatiently covered mine pressing it lengthwise against her slit as she humped on the chair earning a strained squeaking sound from the distressed piece of furniture. Some of her excess wetness pooled in her meaty crease wetting my shaft at the halfway point proving my technique.
“Aw fuck it.” I thrust inside her narrow sleeve shooting powerfully forward until my balls slapped up against the bottom of her wide doughy feeling buttocks.
Sydney’s arms shot out locking around my waist pulling me half downward atop her body. She was pinned to the chair heels pointed at the ceiling. Her knees were dangerously level with my ears hands drawing around rubbing my rib cage.
We looked at one another sort of confused in the moment before I undid the last few buttons turning her newspaper printed maxi dress into a drape over that chair. She was indeed topless presenting me with a thick packed looking figure shaped just the way I liked.
Her cunt was hungry swallowing me up uniquely with the lips clinging to the base of my endowment while her insides informed a gooey volcanic pressure tensing in rhythmic fashion as Sydney acclimated to my intrusion.
My eyes were affixed to our connection finding the soft pillowy feel of her skin and her fashion sense made her akin to a salacious cartoon character; a more fuller figured sister of Jessica Rabbit except with the road miles of age. My hands were cupping and squeezing her tits, fingers pulling and teasing her piercings.
Sydney shrieked when I started plunging her depths with ferocious piston like thrusts for a few moments stopping abruptly so I could pull halfway out of her cunt glancing down at our junction again in disbelief.
This woman was a local celebrity worth three to ten times more than I would see in a year and here she was underneath me with her frothy cream running off my cock soiling the edge of the chair. This stuff was almost thick as morning oatmeal in consistency with more bubbling up around our connection.
I went at it again pounding all kinds of sand out of her mature box mounting this woman like a gargoyle. My jeans were around my calves allowing me enough wiggle room to give her everything I could manage.
Initially I used her semi-sagging tits as handles but found my hands around her narrow waist driving my cock into her hard enough to create these splashes of moisture with each clash of our playdate uglies. Sydney was holding onto my sides at first but went back to using her heels as I lurched over her driving myself deeper.
In short, we were making a mess as I got even more intense enjoying her steaming hot confines dripping sweat.
Sydney reached up snatching off her glasses flinging them onto the carpet before cupping the back of my head. Her free hand invaded the space under my t-shirt sliding up to pinch and roll my left nipple.
That tiny bit of winching pain fueled just a bit more power behind my thrusts as the squeaky chair got louder and louder. Sydney’s cunt was a heated dewy swamp infinitely addictive making me work at destroying that chair with her body. Both of us were fixated on our connection instead of looking at each other’s faces.
She felt so good that I was unconsciously trying my best to plant both knees on the seat unwilling to just snatch her down onto the floor for a grounded rutting. I glanced at her face finding her light green eyes glassy with pools of wetness filling the sockets while her face caught the low overhead lighting.
There was no doubt I had a similar countenance as the chair unexpectedly swung from our combined weight dislodging us. Sydney nearly toppled to the carpet but caught herself with one hand planted flat while I snagged her opposite wrist.
I managed to help Sydney regain her composure which ended in a flurry of awkward movement on our parts as she fidgeted initially wrapping her arms around my neck while I went after her narrow waist.
My fingers sunk into the softness of her waist which had a muted love handle or two. Her dress was an impediment but neither of us were willing to remove it as her butt hit the edge of the sound board. My proclivities made themselves known as I sort of stooped reaching around for a fortuitous handful of her left buttock finding it huge, sweaty, and overly pliable.
This bit of communication led Sydney to believe I wanted to finish taking her on the sound table as she leaned backward raising her right leg for me to capture at the knee. Once I did, her other leg left the floor as she laid atop the soundboard with her butt hanging off of it.
There was no way she was comfortable as I slid inside her soapy cunt inching forward trying to bury the whole thing. Her compromised frock was half draped over the table with much excess hanging over the edge in a comedy of errors as a loud shrill sound filled the studio.
“SHIT!” Sydney let her weight become a factor rocking down planting her feet turning to the board quickly quieting it.
I would’ve been clueless as Chinese arithmetic if it were up to me, but we were further alerted by the sound of the intercom on the wall adjacent to the locked door. Sydney ran over pressing the button leaving me there with my business on full display.
“HELLO?!! UH HELLO?!! THIS IS SECURITY, ARE YOU OKAY IN THERE SYDNEY?!!” Some much mouthed individual’s voice filled the studio as she tugged her dress up holding it to her body with her free hand while pushing the wall button.
“Oh yeah everything’s okay back here, all good my kings; just showing my guest the studio back here! Accidentally pushed a few buttons, go back to what you were doing, don’t dispatch.” I doubted Sydney realized she was gasping and huffing like she’d run the Boston marathon.
“Standard protocol is for security to clear the room.”
“Hey Dave, what time is Jake coming in today; I wanna go over some details with your director.”
“Dispatch retracted.”
“That’s what I thought.” Sydney managed to shut the operator down while huffing and overly anxious leaning into the wall with her face pressed against the back of her hands. Her shoulder hunched as she chuckled to herself turning at the waist staring first at my face then down at my erection. I looked down at it too, then at her face.
I gave my chair a nudge with my foot sending it careening a foot over where it stopped upper half spinning.
I shrugged.
Sydney shrugged.
A bit of playfulness entered the cramped studio as she planted a knee on the chair grabbing the back of it as she surfed it over to me turning her back in my direction sweeping her newspaper print maxi dress aside with a deep arch in her lower back.
I was at once presented with her large pillowy biscuit buns each buttock bearing two star tattoos blue outlined in thin orange. If it weren’t for the tight fitting thong, the whole thing would’ve been one big delectable blob of flesh. That chub rub did provide a bit of shading to her cheeks.
Sydney reached back pulling one cheek apart revealing her lush folds as I quickly buried my prick deep in her snatch. Once I was inside, she gathered up the excess material of her dress drawing it high above a shocking wasp waist that had to be around twenty-nine inches.
It looked as if she’d been living in a waist trainer for five years or something as I grabbed cinched proportions plunging into her doughy butt with no fucks given. Sydney snagged my left thumb tugging on it until I bent at the waist both of our cheeks mashing together.
Oddly enough there was a tiny winged unicorn tattoo in the small of her back.
“When you cum, stick it in my backdoor.” She softly whispered in feline fashion making me do a doubletake as she released my hand.
This of course motivated me to do my best to change the general muffin styled shape of her big mushy ass to no avail as if jiggled all over the place despite my best efforts. Sydney was leagues away from Rashida’s sixty plus inches of online fame but no less sexy as I wondered about her actual age.
She’d been the cohost for a while since I was in high school, more of a hip hop artist than anything before hooking up with Sly where she eventually matured into her current form. In fact she was responsible for the other people in their entourage who generally hung out in the station a few floors up.
Sydney’s ass was decidedly a badonkadunk covertly hidden away behind her style of dress. Back in the day she wore baggy sweats and warmup suits like the yellow one she wore the day Rashida blew up. She was a whole snack, probably quite the machine back in the day, but now her huge butt was a soft mushy treat almost ready to flow away from her body.
It was like fucking a cloud and would’ve been disappointing if it weren’t for her scintillatingly hot snatch in the eye of the storm. Sydney’s pussy was no joke. My curiosity wanted me to strip her nude in that small cramped recording studio; sort of see how she looked completely naked. She tugged at my thumb again bringing me down close again.
“We don’t have much time; fuck it harder and don’t forget to cum in my backdoor.”
“Alright, I’m gonna cum right now Sydney.” I replied bouncing off her inflated buns in the back. I couldn’t help looking down at my obscured lap full of her big yellow butt making those tattooed stars fly all over the place.
I reached down grabbing her thighs pulling her knees off the chair planting them on the carpet which left her chest on the seat. Sydney reached back parting her cheeks revealing her rear entrance with both knees tightly wedged together as I pushed inside finding she was no novice at anal sex. Her hands shot up grabbing the arms of my chair as I bulldogged her butt to mush finding a lot more traction with my feet planted on either side of her.
“I FEEL IT!!! YOU’RE MARKING ME WITH YOUR FUCKING CUM MY KING!! AW SHIT!! AW FUCK IT’S GOOD!!” Sydney’s composure melted away like butter as her proclivity for rough anal was put on full display. This was it for me too due to the sexy moaning and whining. Hearing women getting off always set me off from day one.
I blew three explosive ropes of jizz deep in her bowels still fucking away at her butt for a few more minutes before withdrawing with little sputters wetting up her overly malleable buttocks. Her star tattoos got a bit of shine as Sydney straightened her back surprising me with a quick vacuumed clean up blow job that made my eyes roll up into my head.
She jerked roughly on my cock making my eyes water before running the flat of her tongue up my inner thigh.
Both of us basked in the afterglow.. for a few seconds.
“Ah, well I guess, uhm…shit.” Sydney rubbed her forehead with her palm looking down at her state of undress unaware that she looked as if she’d been mauled by a bear.
I pulled my pants up slowly watching her gather herself crawling about on the floor retrieving her glasses. Part of me wanted to get some more of that monster marshmallow at the bottom of her waist, but I knew better retrieving my own phone from the floor. Sydney knelt gathering her dress looking conflicted as she regarded me.
“Whoa nigga; now I know why that bitch was tripping-uhm excuse me but you know we can’t let this shit leave this room. I got endorsements, a morals clause in my contract and Sly would lose his shit!! Trust me you don’t wanna see that motherfucker tripping balls; we’ll never get him back out of rehab. Fuck man I’ll hit you up with some more cash, you feeling me, or what?”
“Whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas Sydney; ain’t we in Vegas?” I was buckling up feeling suitably weirded out wondering if Rashida was still hanging out upstairs. Sydney was frantically trying to make herself presentable as I checked my phone intending to walk out the studio door.
“HEY!! HEY!! HEY, WAIT MY KING!! You can’t go out there after this; hit that other exit door on the side nigga. Don’t worry some rappers broke the alarm on the fire exit so they could smoke out there. Damn you got my pussy and my fucking ass lit!! Guess you really are the Educated Simp after all. Damn that bitch was right.”
She was talking to herself more than me all but ignoring everything looking around the studio like a crackhead looking for a rock until she recovered her phone. Sydney was completely scattered brained muttering under her breath some inaudible conversation with herself. Her more urban tone didn’t go unnoticed.
“So, interview’s over?”
“Yeah sure, now you get up outta here down them stairs back to the main lobby. The door at the bottom opens right out into the lobby-DON’T TELL ANYBODY ABOUT THIS!!”
“About what?” It took her a few moments to get it.
“Get outta here; I’ve got to get back to work.”
Across the room was the aforementioned fire exit which led out into a rather unfinished sparsely lit stairwell that I followed to the first floor. I was seriously anxious replaying the events in my head on a loop telling myself it wasn’t possible. I’d given a celebrity the business but didn’t care beyond wishing I could’ve stripped her down for some real work.
There was a nagging curiosity in my mind about what she looked like fully nude and what I could do to her further sexually. By the time I reached the first floor landing, I’d told myself it was a one and done.
Rashida was standing there in the middle of the lobby with the same portly rent-a-cop I’d seen earlier on the fourth floor. She was thankfully covered up in her long raincoat hiding her salacious attire from view but not her ridiculous curves.
“WHERE YOU BEEN?!!” We met in the center of the building lobby as I fished out my phone finding that I’d been plowing Sydney for two hours. I was unintentionally fidgety trying not to be obvious about things, actually embarrassed.
“Uh, I got caught up looking for a bathroom.”
“Serious daddy?” Rashida adjusted the collar on my shirt looking less irritated, more motherly in that instant.
“Yeah, everything go okay up there?”
“It was the usual shit show with thirsty niggas all over the place; I would be mad at you for making me wear this skimpy shit but I got some good publicity and maybe a few jobs.” Rashida slung her trusty satchel bag taking me by the bicep.
“What?”
“Music video shit with some of them rappers; and that goofy ass fat dude is talking about how he got a Netflix special coming up, but I think he’s trying to get into my panties. I know you’re gonna make sure everything is on the up and up, right bruh?” We were walking across the cavernous building lobby towards the revolving doors.
“ME?!!”
“YEAH YOU; AIN’T YOU MY MANAGER?!!” Rashida stopped abruptly with a raised brow checking me out a few feet from the building entrance. For some reason I didn’t know what to do with my hands.
“Oh, right girl; I’ll look into it for you.” I replied non-committedly.
“Hey man you okay; not trying to point the finger but you’re hella jumpy all of a sudden?”
“I’m fine; and since you were up there, why didn’t you bring me a Danish or something huh Rashida? I’m hungry; you hungry baby or did you kill all the catering in the green room or what?!” I was talking out the side of my neck not fooling her one bit as she manifested a smarmy expression.
“ALRIGHT WHAT HAPPENED?!!”
“What do you mean? NOTHING HAPPENED, uhm its just like I said before. I got mixed up around here looking for a bathroom and the security here is straight lacking if you ask me. AIN’T YOU HUNGRY GIRL; I’M BUYING?!!”
“Oh you’re buying, huh?” Rashida was frustrating me standing there tapping her foot on the tiled floor as I glanced about before settling on her face shrugging.
“Yeah, I’m buying.” I replied in varying tones.
“HEY IS TAKISHA HERE OR SOMETHING?!” Rashida accused out of nowhere.
“NO!!” She inched in closer scrutinizing my face making me even more uncomfortable.
“Hey man I know that bony bitch is coming in today and I’m thinking she already popped up because you got that look on your face bruh; ask me what look I’m fucking referring to daddy?”
“Uh, what look?”
“That I JUST FUCKED TAKISHA look; know what I’m referring to now, huh? Did you fuck her this morning while I was upstairs? Tell me that wire frame 304 didn’t pop up like Freddie Kruger on your ass this morning; come on bruh?!! I BET YOU JUST GOT THROUGH FUCKING HER IN THE ASS DIDN’T YOU?!! Tell me I’m wrong negro!!”
“I’ll tell your big ass that you’re embarrassing us right here in this fucking lobby.”
Rashida took a look around at some of the passing pedestrians starting to filter into the lobby around us. Despite the sparse numbers, she got my meaning glancing down at her heels.
“So, you’re buying, right?”
“I got it covered Rashida.” I took her arm in mine walking to the revolving doors. She turned to me just before we exited.
“That’s what I’m afraid of daddy.”
My hand landed in the middle of her sixty plus inches of online fame with a loud smack.
***********************************************************************************************************
Rashida turned on the show while we were enroute to my job. We’d just left a drive through window.
“Look Ken, we love having you here on the show to liven things up around here; I love you like a brother and you’re my best male friend. We go back way too far to be having any kind of issues that can’t be resolved with a simple conversation. We can always find a path to resolution no matter how difficult. Ken, that being said, sometimes you can be egregiously out of pocket. Today, this morning, was one of those times my friend.”
“Oh, is that right Sydney; is that what you’re saying through all that damn word salad, huh?” Ken the Comedian sounded weary and verbally worn. We’d missed a good portion of the show.
“You were in ERROR; and OUT of POCKET!! Is that SIMPLE ENOUGH for you?”
Sydney’s voice was decidedly strained sounding as if she were audibly trying to regulate her tone as Sly cut into the already in progress conversation.
“Hey guys I love you both, we don’t have to give this a public forum; we can all hook up for drinks later and hash it out. You two are like brother and sister, come on guys! We’re good, right?”
“Bruh, I’m down with that but you know I keeps it real Sly. That’s how I always roll, never skipped a beat since day one of my career man. Everybody here know how much I done give up in my career cause of my mouth. Sydney girl I love you to death but I gotta call it like I see it. If you gonna hold that shit against me, I ain’t got no problem being up the road, REAL TALK RIGHT HERE!!”
“Come on Ken, we good brother; you guys need to squash this mess and hug it out.” Sly tried to mediate but she wasn’t having it.
“Keep my name out your mouth!”
“SYDNEY!!!”
The studio burst into an uproar of continuous chatter and peer commentary that was nearly indecipherable as I glanced over finding Rashida eyeballing me. I knew I was busted but looked away out my passenger side window.
There was a lot of noise and the sound of furniture moving about, chairs dragging on the floor as she reached down in the side pocket of the driver’s side door retrieving her phone. I perked up as she started tapping away on it while driving.
“What’re you doing?”
“I wanna see the whole thing on their YouTube channel; this had to have happened right after we left.”
“You know, what you’re doing there is against the law; uh, you could get a ticket for that.” I was starting to feel queasy watching her actions.
“Whatever, we’re almost at your job anyway; maybe I’ll just sit outside in my car watching the show.”
“I SAID I’D DOWNLOAD IT FOR YOU!” I blurted out without thinking drawing her attention as we tooled down the block approaching my building.
“We good, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” I didn’t sound convincing as she pulled parallel with the curb putting the car in park despite three cars being directly behind us immediately honking their horns.
“Daddy I’m never gonna leave your corner, and I ain’t gonna judge you.”
“Uh right, see you around.” I snatched up my camera bag almost running out of Rashida’s car. I didn’t look back hurriedly trying to escape responsibility for the chaos on the radio show playing in her car.
Clocking in was relatively uneventful due to my boss Dr. Miles being locked in an administrative for half of the morning which left me some well needed calm. Curiosity got my tongue as I worked alone for a few hours finally secreting myself away inside a bathroom stall on the second floor.
I discovered that Sydney returned to her cohost duties on the early morning radio show wearing more familiar clothing which didn’t go unnoticed by the resident comedian and unofficial cohost, Ken. In the most boorish fashion possible, Sydney was called out for “Moving kinda Funny” which led to the on-air argument.
Of course Dr. Miles was waiting for me with a laundry list of work related chores completely ignoring my lazing coworker sitting in the second floor AV office texting away on his phone. In his company was a new employee hired during my hiatus after someone quit citing his “patriarchal attitude” as the deciding factor.
I was introduced to Lucia as my “trainee” and informed that she would be sticking to me like glue until she was ready to fly solo in the AV department. She was barely over five feet of height, but sort of wide, a BBW. Her face was round and somewhat fetching, yet familiar.
“You uh, like working here?” She asked as we were setting up a study hall together.
“It’s cool, I don’t have a commute between work and school this way.” I answered innocuously focused on my work.
“Well, I’m glad I’m working with you.”
“Huh?” I was busy setting up a projector on a table in the middle of the room for another faculty meeting later in the afternoon.
“Don’t recognize me, huh?” I stopped looking back at her not placing the face.
Lucia didn’t ring any visual bells as I automatically took stock of her as a whole noticing her rather dowdy posture and the fact that she was wearing an unzipped hoodie over our uniform shirt. Dr. Miles was usually a stickler for uniformity.
“Excuse me?”
“OH, UH SORRY!! It’s just that I kinda always see you downstairs in the student center? You usually sit in the next to last booth by the window facing the front of the school. OH WOW!! I must sound like a creep, huh? I mean I started noticing you after that time you clowned the crap out of Dr. Zoya Berhan. I was at the next table over with some uh, friends. Uhm, you were really funny, that day.”
I just looked at her face suddenly remembering her at the opposite table full of sisters who definitely weren’t fans.
“Sorry, I uhm, kinda dropped the ball, right?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I raised a brow starting to turn back to the work at hand.
“I don’t get out much, I’m a little sheltered. Uh, just wanted to explain the weird factor.” She was a kid in my eyes despite the fact that we might be the same age chronologically speaking.
“Didn’t ask.”
“Sorry.”
I didn’t say anything else finishing up the room as she loitered about just sort of wandering around the rectangular room. Due to the workplace dynamic, I was a lone wolf serving as the unofficial anchor of the AV department. It didn’t help that I had a perpetual target on my back because our boss was friends with the couple who’d tried to finesse me out of my ass. Honestly I should’ve been fired along with the “Berhans” after the epic revenge prank I’d pulled to get out of that situation.
Even though he thought I was bad news, the boss saddled me with Lucia.
“Hey uh, Lucia?”
“Lucy.”
“What?”
“Everyone just calls me Lucy; ever since I was in kindergarten no matter what I said. My folks just told me to lump it, so that’s why I’m Lucy. It’s no big deal because I figure its trade off for being and anchor baby. My folks got that stale American dream and I get uh, crumbs off the table. I’m Lucy Delgado.”
I stared back at the overly long explanation without word for a few moments.
“Sorry.” She apologized again.
“It’s lunch time; I’ll see you in the office in thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, okay uh, sir.” Lucy looked nervous folding and unfolding her hands across her chest a number of times.
I watched for a few seconds before walking out of the room digging around in my pocket for my phone.
There was no doubt I was being a dick, but I’d been itching to find out how things were progressing after the mistake I’d made banging Sydney earlier that morning. I found a text from Rashida sent ten minutes before I went on lunch imploring me to tune into Sydney’s follow up show, particularly her “Queens Corner” segment. I found my booth in the youth center downstairs clicking on the live in-progress segment.
“No one here is against you Takisha; all we are saying is that perhaps you need to reflect and MOVE on; stop wasting your time on someone who has chosen another. We think it just makes you look…WEAK.”
Sydney was sitting there in her secondary outfit consisting of a yellow boohoo crop bomber jacket and matching yellow compression leggings. The jacket was unzipped revealing a red Versace sports bra underneath.
Her signature canary yellow bucket hat was pulled low on her face with her eyes covered by some large black brow bar sunglasses. There was something ominous about her posture. Her overhead mike was pulled lower than usual as she sat stone faced staring at Takisha.
“Wait a minute; I told you what he did Sydney. Told you how he uses women for his own sick pleasure and groomed me; like he uh, gets in your head and next thing you know, you’re doing “IT” with him. I thought we were on the same page about this shit. I mean, that’s why I’m here, right?”
“No Takisha, no.”
“WHAT?!!”
“Sometimes we like to have a guest on who’s in desperate need of counseling. You see, most men are decidedly beta these days, but you have a select few who buck the trend; that oh so desirable one percent of all negroes here in the USA Takisha. I don’t like calling our Kings an Alpha, but the term just fits and well, I think maybe you were caught off guard because of your own misinformed hubris.”
Despite the supposed intent of her words, Sydney sat stone faced while her two cohosts, her former partner in a short lived hip hop duo who went by the name “Finessa” and this dumpy looking housewife Sherry, looked shocked. It felt like Sydney was going off script.
Takisha for her part, sat there on the other side of the studio looking increasingly crestfallen as she spoke. She was wearing a short sleeved white lace blouse and jeans. Her hair was blown out in a wispy looking afro. Takisha looked like a kid next to the older, much more mature Sydney.
“Wait a minute Sydney; we listened to your interview with that nigga; he sounds like another bum ass dusty. That fool was even trying to neg you; did he ask for your number? I heard you had beef with Ken this morning girl.”
“No Finessa, we just talked for a few minutes; that’s all he was willing to do. I would’ve loved HAVING him on the show today just to show our audience, and all the viewers the juxtaposition between him and some of the trash ass dusties we’ve interviewed in the past.”
Sydney’s head was craned in her friend’s direction with an irritated expression on her face.
“Why don’t you bring Ken on the show so you two can hug it out then?”
“THAT, IS NOT WHAT WE DO HERE!”
“Chill, we people right, Sydney?”
“Why are you saying that Finessa?” She sounded low key threatening, her voice registering a feminine growl of sorts.
“I’m asking.” Finessa replied unbothered.
She was a slim sister decked out in an adidas track suit and ball cap with a do rag underneath. Her fashion read “butch” and she spoke with a smoker’s voice. Their dumpy cohost who sort of looked like Kim Fields with an obvious church lady wig, sat nervously smiling intermittently at the camera.
“Well, maybe this uh Educated Simp person, is bad like Takisha says.” Sherry interjected drawing Sydney’s attention.
“Are you questioning my judgement, Sherry? I mean, you’ve only been here eight months and that’s because Baby Girl is out on maternity leave. You don’t understand fully, what we do here Sherry; get back to me when you’ve got the body of work I have in this industry. Not taking anything away from the housewife struggle you’ve got going on with Brad, your white husband; maybe you can report on that. That can, be your job.”
Throughout the building three-way on-air argument, Takisha was visibly reacting to Sydney starting to show little ticks and flinches. She started looking around sort of glaring probably at the crew filming off camera in the studio. She had come to sully my good name and found something else entirely.
This girl was about to, pop.
“You’ve been with him, haven’t you? Fucked him too, right? Yeah you did Sydney; I KNOW that LOOK!! He did it right in here didn’t he bitch? THAT’S WHY YOU LOOK LIKE THAT, RIGHT?!! Well welcome to the fucking club you stupid tart; NOW HE’S GONNA DO THE SAME THING TO YOU TOO!! CONGRATS!!”
The studio went deathly quiet as both women stared at one another. With her eyes hidden away, Sydney looked seriously dangerous.
The slow burn continued for a few seconds as Sydney’s cohosts sat waiting for her reaction, nervous.
Sydney cocked her head to the side.
“Bitch, get over yourself.”
“JUST SAY IT!! YOU FUCKED HIM, DIDN’T YOU?!! STOP FUCKING LYING BITCH!!” Takisha yelled in her face sitting directly in front of Sydney.
Sherry flinched when Sydney reached up pulling the mic down further right in front of her big puffy lips.
“Security.”
The audio inexplicably dropped out of the video as several P.A. assistants appeared out of nowhere along with a big, burly overweight guy I recognized as security from my earlier “interview” with Sydney.
It was quite the show with Sydney retaining her seat yet talking incessantly using her hand in a karate chopping motion. Things were nuclear with both women “reading” one another separated by several human buffers.
Ultimately Takisha was escorted off set by security but not before she ran towards the camera mouthing something in audible due to technical difficulties.
“So, what’re we watching, sir?” Lucy appeared with a tray containing some sandwiches, cups of fries and canned sodas placing them on the table in front of me.
“What’re you doing?”
“The impossible, redoing my bad first impression.” She squeezed in beside me with a smile glancing at my android.
“You can sit on the other side, you know?”
“Can’t we watch something together?” Lucy asked just as my phone started ringing off the hook with Takisha’s number which I sent to voicemail.
She was calling on facetime, but I wasn’t bringing that nonsense into my work place. My phone kept ringing jarring me enough that I accidentally answered the second call on speaker.
“DAMN DADDY!! WHAT’VE YOU BEEN DOING DOWN THERE AT THAT RADIO STATION WITH SYDNEY?!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP HITTING THAT THREE WHEEL MOTION ON THESE UNTESTED FEMALES, DIDN’T I?!! NOW YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER ONE ON YOUR TIP!! AHAHA!! I KNEW YOU WAS UP TO NO GOOD!!”
She was having way too much fun.
“Shut up Rashida!!”
“IT ALL MAKES SENSE NEGRO!!! HEY, DON’T HANG UP!! Come on bruh; I got something nice for your trifling ass daddy.”
“You Know I’m A Ho” by Ice Cube and Master P blasted from my phone out of nowhere accompanied by her uproarious masculine sounding laughter.
Lucy leaned in further invading my space as I noticed quickly ending the call. The video resumed as soon as the call ended revealing the radio studio cleared except for a few lingering security guards, a Caucasian suit and some really scared looking production assistant sitting in Takisha’s seat.
The camera suddenly shifted focused directly on Sydney’s face. Even more jarring was the granite expression on her face which hadn’t changed throughout the dustup with my budding stalker, Takisha.
“Babe, I’m sure there are loved ones of yours that are really sorry you didn’t get the man of your dreams, sincerely. I understand you feel that you should be treated a certain kind of way by men, I get it girlfriend. All your life everything was a cake walk until you got that motherfucking reality check. Don’t cry bitch, reevaluate yourself hoe. Clean it up baby and realize you never had a REAL KING in your sorry life. Oh, Takisha watch that egregious slander because I’m represented by the second largest law firm in the country baby; and it don’t cost me a dime to tap yo ass so hard, you’ll be calling Sly’s show whining and bitching about how I HIT it and QUIT it!! Peace out my sister.”
“Wow, she’s normally so nice; I watch that show when I’m getting ready in the morning. Ken’s so funny, right sir?” Lucy was unwrapping the paper from her cheese burger doing her best to make conversation.
“Move over there on the other side.”
“We can’t…”
“No, look we’re good Lucy, but you’ve gotta dial it back a bit.” I was trying to be reassuring while my brain was fried in worry about the repercussions of my actions earlier in the morning.
“Uh, sorry.” Lucy gathered up her portion of the lunch shuffling over to an empty table looking dejected. She took a seat with her back facing me eating alone as I face palmed.
“Aw shit.”
…TO BE CONTINUED.