Ballin' Amabo

I spent the last hour with ice on my swollen lips. I lookted like I just came out a the ring with a boxer. And I'm laying here on my back with a heatin' pad on my slopin' walnut colored belly, watchin' the results come in from this contry's most historic election in some time. There he is up there at that podium, holdin' the fate of our nation in his yella hands -- hands flashin' like a yella warnin' light at a dangerous intersection in any small town U.S.A.

If I'd a knowed then what I know now, I never would a talked politiks at bingo. First off, my black whore ass had no bizness inside a church no how. Least of all in the most prominent church of Upthasse, my rural town. Fuck, last time I was in a church, I was givin' the good rev a bj under his black robe during the benedikshun while the choir sang, "What a friend we have in Jesus."

My lips was creatin' so much frikshun on that blessed dick a his, all my dammed pineapple lip gloss got rubbed right off. And I spent two hole dollars on that tube of gloss when I should a bawt a tube a what they call intimet moisturizer cuz that preachin' so-and-so fucked my pussy good after he aksed me to follow him into his office. I was so stupid, too, my neecaps stingin' from trying to keep steady on the carpeted platform a hour earlier. Me neelin' like that underneath his musty black robe and suckin' his dick all desprit like a overgrown baby needin' a bottle.

When the good rev shouted from the sex shocks I was deliverin' unto him, he throwed his arms out to his sides and did a bounce on the platform. He dammed near broke my tooths. I heared some skreeks and poked my head out of his fonky robe long enough to see about two rows a wimmens in a side pew fall out with the Holy Ghost. All I could think was, These wimmens don't get enuff fuckin'. That's where all that "Woo!" and "Holleylooyah!" was comin' from.

But there I was again in a house of wershup, enjoyin' a hot game a bingo like all a God's chillen. It figgers when I had all but a "I" and a "O," some chick with a mustash -- name's Fonetta or somethin' whorish like that -- gwan start talkin' to me about politiks.

"Oooh, chile, I can't get enuff a that Amabo," she said to those a us seated nearby. She couldn't stop gushin' about her favorite politikal candidate. "With his fine ass up for the runnin', this country's gwan have a REAL bush whackin', huh-huh-huh," she had the nerve to add.

"Huh-huh-huh, my ass!" I shot back at that brownnosin' bitch. I pulled down my skirt and showed her my fat, thonged ass. "If Sen. Amabo becomes Prezident Amabo, what? You think you gwan be sittin' up in his Cabinet like some low class Cuntaleeza Rice, when all you gwan have is some Carolina rice in yo' cabinet."

The wimmens, well, except for Fonetta, started laffin' their asses off. I glared back at Fonetta, who was bearin' her canine incisors, so I tried to divert from gettin' a beat down by tellin' her, "Look suga, your preshuss Amabo ain't even full white, now, okay?"

"Wait, hole up, hole up, Ureesha!" cryed Pam, who I thawt was my home girl, even tho we is way too old to be no girls. "Now you dammed crossed the line, talkin' about Amabo's incestry."

"The word is 'ancestry,' hello?" I corrected her. "Damm, Pam!"

"Whatever," Pam said. "He made it this damm far, and he just might beat out that fellaysheeo and cuntalinguss forgivin' , Fleetwood Mac lovin' wrinkled up ho."

"You got a point there, Pam," I said sheepish like. I thawt for a moment about the good rev's heavy meated dick slidin' in and out of my mouth and bangin' my tonsils up on the church platform. Then I let out a cohf like all that dick juice done slipped past the thresshold and got cawt up in my throte like a ball a flem. "I shud support mines. It's time for me to give back to my community in a way that don't make my ass sore afterwoods."

To that, the wimmens laffed hard in that husky way that conjoored up the black southern ghosts from trampled tobakko fields vibratin' from the last bar of a nigra spiritral sung throo a day's sweat.

Fonetta and Pam talked me a good hour after the bingo game about the merit of volunteerin' and specifikally joinin' the Amabo Campaign for Real Change. I just prayed, as much as a sinnin' black woman could, that if I voted for this high yella guy, that I would be left with more than change in my already shallow pockets. On the way home, I kept hearin' Fonetta's words in my head: "This is the real way to get into heaven, makin' substanshall changes in your community." I was still mullin' over her words when I couldn't count no more sheeps from my pillow that night.

Fast forward, and in our tiny town of Upthasse, the day came for Amabo's rally. I was just as proud as my bingo sistuhs about gettin' as many campaign flyers and buttons around to the denuzens. Fonetta and me came close to bein' friends too, till she got a little too nozy wondrin' how I ran out of flyers so fast at the end of each day leading up to the rally. So I satisfied her cureeocity and flashed a rainbow assortment of condoms in my handbag. "Lord Jesus, help her!" was her last words on that subject. Hmph. That shut her tight ass up.

Town Hall was jampacked with all kinds of colors of people. Brown people, beige people, pink people, ivory people, ebony people, mustard people, redboned people, etsetra. Some folks forgot to pile on the antepersprant cuz we was havin' a fonky good time in the wrong way. Unh, unh, unh. With my picket in hand and a valeeant smile marchin' across my tooths, I counted myself among the beleevers. I stood as close to the podium as possible, slicin' the air with my sign and jumpin' till I could hear the milk jump in my tits. "Amabo! Amabo!" I shouted, but just like every dammed body else.

Mista High Yella came out talkin' about, "Now, now, you all are too kind" with his Five Oh aksent and whatnot. I could a sworn he done nodded or bowed in my direkshun, but I ain't sho. All I knowed was six funky armpit hours later, I would a beleeved everythang and anythang the sun king an was sayin' to us. Just so we could go home.

But I got a late nite supprize. From a dark corner stairwell, I heard a wisprin' of my name, like it was Fred Williamson in one a those bonin' movies of my teenage years. I got spooked when I seen nothin' but darkness at first. Then I saw that yella mellon head and them bright teeth and let out a "Sheee-yit, you scared the fuck out of me, Jimmy, uh, Senator Amabo." I rolled my eyes at him like he was Jimmy Jenkins poppin' out from the shadows of one of them briar patches of my yewth.

But Duroc Amabo was no briar patch. He was a smooth muthafucka. He had tricky looks that could make a chick forget to close her legs tight. Beady eyes hidin' behind bananuh yella cheekbones -- and them dammed Osmond Family tooths. I seemed to float towards all that gleemin', and in the process lost track of time.

They say politicians got some deep pockets and slippery tongs. Judgin' by the arm that seemed to be growin' out from his crotch, and by the way his tong was burrowed all democratic like in my pussy, I'd say his supporters made the right projekshun.

"Oh, Amabo! Oh, lawwwd, oh yella, oh!" I knowed not what the fuck I was shreekin' with my big brown thighs nearly givin' his neck a python chokehold. He just kept hummin' "Mmmm" into my runny twat and every now and then sneekin' his tongue out to lick my clit till it lookted like a little dick.

"Take it home, sweet home, Amabo, awwww ... Awwwww sheeeyit ... Awww ...Aww ... AWWWWW!!!" His lips made a wet poppin' sound when he pulled his tong out my suction like pussy. I felt like the cold, stone steps done made a imprint in my back.

"Amabo wants to fuck that black beaver," the senator said to me while eyein' my yawnin' pussy and. I got confewzed and told him I wasn't into no beastieallity. All I knowed was he sho was candid and he ate me out like nobody done befo'.

"Come on, let me feel your campaign spirit, woman," the senator whispered, each of his eyes half closed like the slit of my pussy was when I first got my cherry broke. His hands got to twistin' the hard dark knots of flesh at the end of my cow titties. His handlin' was just like my Uncle Bobby-John used to do after I watched him milk the heffas on our busy family farm. My right titty got bigger than the left cuz in my senior year in high school, when I used to rub it a lot at night thinkin' about Uncle Bobby-John comin' to tuck me in. He knowed I was too old for that, and he used to joke he'd kiss and suck my left titty to make it catch up to the right one.

"That's it, Urethra," the Sen. Amabo urged me. "This race to lead our nation will need one, hard fight." He put stress on the word "hard" by squeezin' firm like on my larger titty.

"Ureesha, the name's Ureesha," I corrected him. "Don't be fuckin' up a already fucked up name, Mugambo."

"You mean Amabo, my cocoa bean," he said, beginnin' to rough handle my brick hard knobs. All I could do to bear his adventuruss hands was hold onto the rawt iron railings on either side of my heavin', soft body.

"Look, don't be callin' me cute names cuz I know what yo' Litebrite ass wants with my contry ass." After telling' his yella behind off, I got all sassy like and eezed myself up on my elboze. I just stared fully amazed at his 8 inches of half chocolate, half oatmeal colored dick. I had a funny little smile on my face cuz I was thinking' that blowin' his dick would keep my heart healthy while givin' me a cafeen high.

"Oh, woman! Saying your name any kind of way gets me so horny!" Amabo confessed. "Ureesha, you make a man forget his beautiful, faithful wife." And with that he lifted my thighs up and pushed my knees up in my face till my breath stole away a little. He thrusted his dick helmet upwards, and I felt the heat of twenty rocket heads blastin' into my black hole. "Grrrrr ... Unnngh! ... Grrrr ... Unnngh!" he shouted as he kept takin' aim at my analhole with his overheated missile.

Gravity pinned us to the gritty stairs, his heavy balls brandin' my asscheeks with reddish bulbous depresshuns.

"Awww ... Fuuuuuck!" I yelled in his left ear when he slumped down on top a my chest so he could ball me deeper. But as soon as the scream left out my mouth I was deaf and dazzled. He was splittin' atoms there in the darkness of the stairwell. He made a pussy out a my asshole like no man done befo'.

"Amabo!" I screamed. "Awww ... Awwww ... AWWW," I moaned from the pain and freeky pleasure. The buttons on his shirt (the only clothin' he had on) was hurtin' my titties with all his weight pressin' on me. I shreeked again, and he must a got spooked cuz he pulled his rod out. I thawt the fuckin' was over, but he just spit on his dickhead and shaft to cleen off my ass stain and used his shirt bottom to finish the deed. My mouth watered at that site. Then he spittled his dick meat real good and rubbed his glans all suggestive like. I watched helpless like when he let a glob of saliva drop from his wide lips down into my belly button. Without warnin', he flipped me on my tummy.

"On your knees like you're prayin' for a new kind of government," he said. Befo' I could say, "Huh?" he shoved his slimy dick up into my cooch.

"Owww!" I shreeked so that the Almighty could come rescue me.

"Scream all you want, woman. Unnnnggggh! I locked the doors. UnnnNNGGGH!" he threatened while pummeling my pussy with his massive dick.

"Owwww ... Ohhhhh ... OWWWWW!" I was all vowels. I just couldn't beleeve I done dedicated my service to this Senator Amabo and now I was gettin' a wild doggie style fuck. "Oh, yeah, fuuuck! Bone me goooood, muthafuckaaaaa!!!"

"Yeah, baby! Like that, hunh? Like this?" he tawnted me. "What, what you want from this stately dick?"

"Uhbuhbubbuhbubbuh! Uhbuh-uhbuh-buhbbuhhhhh!!!" I screamed mindlessly, my free hand gropin' my swampy mound. I couldn't rub my clit no mo' cuz it was numb from me and him givin' it so much attenshun. Out a habit, tho' I thumbed my sticky lips for my clit, but it done disappeared. I knowed from lots of fuckin' expeereence that it meaned I had a full cum.

"Ohhh, Ureesha! Ureeeeeshaaaa!" he answered in horniness. "I feel change commmmmiiiing reaaaal sooooon!" He didn't care I done cummed. He just kept stokin' my fires with his hot poker.

"Awwww ... Awwww," I moaned. I knowed I just cummed cuz my back felt like it was in my ass, so I couldn't figure out what was about to happen. He kept bangin' my walls like they was made a rubber. "Awwww ... Awwww , sheeeeyiiiit!" I cried before sqwertin' on Sen. Amabo's dick.

He rumbled a bit more, yanked out his staff and shot his glory all over new territory. He'd unearthed a new woman with his potent seed, and my pussy erupted. Spent and adulterous, we laid like a geometric puzzle in our cum juices. Our lust was to blame, and the fawlt lines was imprinted in the steps beneath us.

All I could mumble was "Amabo," dumbstruck after gawkin' at my cum-spattered cunt and then lookin' up into his stoned gaze. He couldn't stop jerkin' that dick, his cream spilled over onto his yella knuckles like white contry gravy on pork chops. Then he began slappin' Little Amabo against my wet thighs to bring him back to life.

"No, senator," I said. "That won't do. You're so used to givin' lip service, but I'll show you the expert way." I got on my nobby nees, and like a beetle on dung I clung my mouth to Amabo's big dick. I mustered up all the support I could for the senator, gettin' a swelled head like the one that done balled me good minutes ago in that dark corner of a stairwell in Upthasse, U.S.A.