Welfare Mothers Make Better Lovers Ch. 2byStardog Champion©
The brief period of sleep that Bobbie Jo was able to corral ended abruptly when all four of her children started to stir and cry as the sun crept over the New York skyline. After initially trying to cover her head with a pillow to drown out the noise, Bobbie Jo realized it was a losing battle and grabbed the flimsy sheet that was covering her nearly naked frame, wrapped it around her body and slowly teetered to her feet.
As soon as Bobbie Jo's body became erect on the cluttered hardwood floor, the muscle spasms precipitated by the previous night's sexual ordeal, nearly caused her to swoon backwards onto the bed.
Collecting herself, as she bitterly groaned to her offspring to calm down, Bobbie Jo limped over to the small refrigerator in the corner nook of the motel room and got the pitcher of unsweetened Koolaid she had stolen a day earlier from the store around the corner, so her kids could have some semblance of a breakfast.
Once the four paper cups were poured, Bobbie Jo sat the pitcher back down in the fridge and made the short but arduous walk to the bathroom. After closing the door behind her, Bobbie Jo dropped the miniscule white sheet covering her body to the floor. She then rolled down her still damp panties and proceeded to stare for several agonizing moments at her naked and hickey covered body in the rusty mirror above the sink.
"SHIT," Bobbie Jo spat at the image staring back, seeing the obscene physical as well as emotional residue of Raoul and Ivan's conquest from the night before in the white semen that was still crusted on the side of her cheeks and the far away look of depraved defeat that glimmered like storm clouds in her tearless brown eyes.
Taking the musty washrag that was draped over the sink and wetting it, Bobbie Jo did her best to wash away the evidence of her sordid indiscretion before going back out to get her kids dressed. As she was about to leave the bathroom, Bobbie Jo attempted to cast one last look back at herself in the mirror to perhaps gain any hint of insight into what she had become. There was nothing there.
A few hours later, after dropping the kids by the babysitter's, Bobbie Jo found herself walking through the rear door of Kim's Cleaners to start her nightly shift. She had spent the whole day contemplating how to run away, to the next job, to the next town, to anywhere that she wouldn't have to face those same two teenagers that had used her for nothing more than a cum receptacle a night earlier.
The fact that the scent of her own lurid and base feminine desire still coated her fingers, from her own personal sexual indulgence hours after Raoul and Ivan had used her, was completely lost of the hapless white woman as she nervously sauntered into the backroom to the glaring stares and all-knowing expressions of everyone assembled there.
"Fuck you...fuck every single one of you," Bobbie Jo muttered under her breath as she made a deliberate beeline past the throng, to her locker.
For that entire night's shift, either real or imagined, Bobbie Jo felt as if everyone working around her knew how she had gotten the brutal purple hickeys that lined the circumference of her neck. Every so often, Bobbie mustered the will to look up and when her gaze fixed on Raoul and Ivan on the main work floor, she felt a sickening slow burn in the pit of her belly from the cocky way they strutted around the place.
During her fifteen minute break, Bobbie Jo hesitantly dragged herself into the breakroom and took a seat at the far end of the table, away from everyone else. Literally feeling as if she were a leper on an island, Bobbie Jo quietly nibbled at a 25 cent bag of crackers while all the other employees laughed and conversed around her.
By the time Bobbie Jo had ended what seemed to be the longest night of her life, she briskly peeled out of the shop and swore to herself she'd never come back to Kim's Cleaners. Wherever she could go had to be better than having to face the same gauntlet of gawks, whispers and stares that she had endured the whole evening.
Snaking her way through a few of the employees who were carousing in front of the exit to leave, Bobbie Jo cast one last fleeting look at the clock on the wall before disappearing out into the back alleyway. It was 10 minutes after midnight.
Just as Bobbie Jo took her first breath of the foul night air, her eyes immediately picked up on the shadowy presence of two men sitting on top of closed dumpsters, like vultures on a perch, waiting for their prey for the night to stumble along.
"OH...SHIT," Bobbie Jo groused out loud, knowing before she even made eye contact with the two guys that it was Raoul and Ivan sitting there, effectively blocking her only exit from the alley.
Bowing her head and biting her lower lip hard, Bobbie Jo tried her best to hold her breath as she slipped past the glaring onlookers.
"Who ya gonna fuck tonight, Bobbie Jo?" Ivan haughtily mocked down, not caring who was within earshot of his lewd comment.
Bobbie Jo took another two steps before it seemed as if her feet had become entrenched in concrete.
"Yo' Girl...who's gonna get a crack at that pussy tonight?" Raoul hissed when he saw her stop.
"Maybe us again," Ivan laughed.
"Nah...we tried that cunt last night...we ain't got nothin' for her...but we know somebody who do," Raoul hinted sarcastically.
It appeared as if Bobbie Jo had turned to stone as she meekly stood her ground in the dark smelly alley. Hoping down off their perches, Raoul and Ivan fanned out to each side of the shaken woman and started to close in.
"You didn't say too much in there tonight Bobbie Jo...are you sure your feelin' OK," Ivan asked with mock empathy.
"And what about those nasty things around your neck Girl...are those hickeys or did somebody try to choke your ass," Raoul cruelly giggled, tapping his crotch lewdly with his right hand as he sized up the numb woman in front of him.
"Get out of my way, " Bobbie Jo hissed as if she were a scalded cat. " I have to get home to my children."
A moment of awkward silence passed between the three before Raoul and Ivan began to snicker to one another. "Yeah...your the Mother of the Year...coming home to a rat infested dive after midnight every single night...I bet those kids really think the world of you!" Raoul snarled back.
The hurtful verbal daggers that were raining down seemed to cripple Bobbie Jo as she started to sway from side to side, floating in the ether of her vengeful hate and putrid helplessness.
"So you're going home to tuck your little ones in for the night huh...I wonder ...just how much sleep did you get last night?" Raoul quizzed slyly, waiting out the din of silence that followed.
"I didn't think so," Ivan concluded.
"I've done enough women like you...nothin' to live for...spiraling down and down and down...nothin' left of your dignity...I wouldn't be surprised a bit if you didn't stay up all night last night playing with your pussy...hummm...," Raoul continued, to only more silence from Bobbie Jo.
"Eyes don't lie, Dawg," Raoul grinned up to his friend as they collectively sensed the power they still had over her.
"Remember what we were telling you last night when we were leaving your naked ass on the boss's floor don't ya," Raoul started. "About findng a cock that could tame that gaping cunt of yours...well...Ivan and I know somebody who can do just the trick...But hey...since you ain't interested...since you have to go tuck your babies in for the night ...I guess we'll just have to find something else to get into tonight...right Ivan?"
"Yep," Ivan deadpanned on cue, as the two slowly turned their backs to Bobbie Jo.
Feeling the walls of her already tattered self control begin to cave in, Bobbie Jo's sensibilities completely faded away as she opened her mouth to answer Raoul and Ivan's crass offer.
"...st...st...stop," Bobbie Jo mewed weakly.
Stopping on a dime, both arrogant 19 year olds turned back around and stared with laserlike precision and heat at Bobbie Jo crumbling facade.
"Did you ...say...something?" Raoul cockily inquired, his face awash with a sadistic grin.
"I didn't hear her either," Ivan coyly added.
"Do...do you...you know...have a place we could go," Bobbie Jo sobbed meekly, caving in completely to her vile weakness in the middle of the dark and trashladen alley.
"Huh," Raoul and Ivan collectively gasped as they closed in.
"I said...do you have a place we could go," Bobbie Jo whispered as she trembled between the two.
"Hell...No,"Ivan immediately answered. "You've got a motel room down the street...you'll just have to choose between tucking your kids in tonight or the not so little surprise we have for you...its completely up to you, Slut. So...do you wanna go home and wonder what it..." Ivan started.
"...Or do you wanna get really really fucked up," Raoul finished.
The Puerto Rican boys' illicit offer bounced around Bobbie Jo's tortured mind for several moments, even though in the end, she knew she wouldn't have the constitution to say 'no'.
"O...O...OK, "Bobbie Jo finally mumbled.
Raoul and Ivan had to fight the urge to give each other a high five, deciding instead to take a mellower and more subtle tact.
"Get your ass home...and we'll be there in 20 minutes...we gotta give a call to the guy we're bringing over...20 minutes," Raoul barked.
"...20 minutes," Bobbie Jo asked with a definite tone of hushed shame.
"Yeah...what's the room number?" Ivan chimed in.
"...118," Bobbie Jo replied weakly, resigned to her fate.
Raoul turned and briskly made their way out of the alley to find the nearest payphone, leaving Bobbie Jo all by herself, sobbing, as she made the short walk around the corner to her motel down the street.
Kicking herself the whole way there for her disgraceful lack of control, Bobbie Jo frantically tried to work up some sort of legitimate excuse through her tears that she could sell to her babysitter, Mrs. Simmons, to get her to look after the kids while she did God knows what when Raoul, Ivan and their friend arrived. Feeling the sick lump in the pit of her stomach growing with each passing second, Bobbie Jo shook her head wearily at the realization that she'd have to lie to the old lady, knowing full well she'd probably be on her knees in front of some nameless stranger getting fucked like a common whore, while Mrs. Simmons thought she was simply tired and in need of a good night's rest.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later, Bobbie Jo found herself nervously walking down the dimly lit and garbage strewn corridor that led to Mrs. Simmon's door. She had become so focused on the jumbled thoughts in her brain that she nearly tripped over a drunk man that was sitting on the floor as she rounded the corner. The half asleep man grunted up to Bobbie Jo as she scurried by like a startled rat.
Finally up to her babysitter's front door, Bobbie Jo hesitantly knocked and then clenched her hands together in tight balls as she waited for the door to swing open. Use to Bobbie Jo's nightly routine, Mrs. Simmon's was there to let the young girl in moments after she knocked.
Trying to find her voice, the confused 24 year old woman babbled incoherantly in a hushed whisper until she was finally able to compose herself.
"I...ah...Mrs. Simmons...I haven't...ahh...had a good night's sleep in a while...I'm just exhausted...I was wondering...since the kids are already asleep and all...if maybe you could just keep them till in the morning?" Bobbie Jo tediously asked.
"Sure," the Babysitter answered after scanning Bobbie Jo's weary face for a few silent moments. "Are you sure your OK Darling...you look haggard? Do you want to come in and kiss the kids goodnight?"
"If they are already asleep...I don't want to bother them," Bobbie Jo begged off, her feet now burning to get away.
"I know you need your rest, Honey," The matronly older woman offered. "I've got an appointment at the Welfare office at 9 in the morning...as long as you're here to pick them up by then...it'll be fine."
"Thank you," Bobbie Jo said distantly, her flaccid eyes nearly bugged out from surprise that the Babysitter had bought her excuse.
With that, Mrs. Simmons closed the door, leaving Bobbie Jo standing alone in the hallway, with nothing standing between her illicit and hastily concocted rendezvous.
Scurrying back to her room, Bobbie Jo anxiously looked around to make sure no one was watching her as she pulled out her key and disappeared into Room 118.
Once inside the privacy of her cramped quarters, Bobbie Jo couldn't keep herself from pacing like a dog that had to use the bathroom, from one end of the room to another, waiting for the inevitable knock.
"What if the don't show up?" Bobbie Jo said out loud to herself. "I bet those fuckin' pieces of shit are just playing with my head."
Fighting the overwhelming urge to massage her pussy as she paced, Bobbie Jo rung her hands together as if she were saying a life or death prayer. Out of nowhere, there was a sudden and noisy echo of thuds resonating off the flimsy wooden door of the motel room, causing Bobbie Jo to bounce up to her tippytoes with delirious angst.
Paralyzed for a moment by the cauldron of emotions that bubbled in her soul, Bobbie Jo finally regained her wits and turned towards the door, rapidly putting one foot in front of the other to let her carnal suitors in.
"Gotta get this door open," Bobbie Jo muttered to herself as she tried to fight the door's chain latch. "I can't let anyone outside see them standing there waiting to come in...I just can't..."
Both locks finally undone, Bobbie Jo fervently swung the door open to see the three men that had come for her standing, like wolves at the entrance to a hen house, in her doorway.
Bobbie Jo's knees turned to mush the instant her gaze focused on the three men standing side by side. Her eyes immediately locked on Raoul and Ivan's electric stare, but her heart nearly stopped when she realized who the two Latin boys had brought with them.
Almost eye level with both Puerto Rican teens, Bobbie Jo instinctively felt her neck strain upwards as she focused on the man standing between Raoul and Ivan.
Towering easily 10 inches above the Latin kids, the third man of the group parted his lips and cast a wide, almost evil, pearly white smile down to the shell-shocked woman holding the door open.
Bobbie Jo's brain was frantically trying to get her arms to reach out, not so much as to invite the three men into her room, but to keep anyone outside from seeing them going into her place.
Feeling the light breeze of air tickle her buzzing skin as the three men walked past her, Bobbie Jo wretched at the realization that Raoul and Ivan had brought along another one of their co-workers to provide as their sick gift to her.
Jean-Luc was a nearly 7 foot tall, rail thin Haitian immigrant that had started work at Kim's Cleaners a few weeks before Bobbie Jo showed up in New York. From her first night there, Bobbie Jo sensed Jean-Luc staring leeringly at her at what seemed like every turn.
Due to her intense, racially divisive upbringing, Bobbie Jo had grown to despise all people that weren't like the ones she was raised around. But she held out a special brand of hate for those that were black. White was good and the further away on the racial color spectrum, the more evil of a person you were considered. In Jean Luc's case, he and Bobbie Jo were about as polar opposite in terms of skin color and sociology as two people could be.
"Has it come to this?" Bobbie Jo asked herself as the musky smell of the three men permeated her senses. "Have you sunk so low that your gonna let a black man have your cunt?"
Before she could even begin to rationalize the implication of those personal questions, Bobbie Jo has started to glide backwards towards her bed, making it appear as if she were leading the three men towards her.
"Why are they following me?" Bobbie Jo winced, seeing all three men's eyes sparkle with wanton and animalistic intent.
Bobbie Jo was briskly jolted out of her hypnotic mental fog when both Raoul and Ivan grabbed her by each arm. With their fingers securely dug into the meat just above Bobbie Jo's elbows, she found herself being held in place as Jean Luc approached.
Reaching out with both his large black hands, as if he were grasping at an apple on a tree, Jean-Luc took Bobbie Jo's chin and neck into his grip and rubbed his dark fingers across her sweat glazed pale skin.
"URRGGHHAAHHRRGGAAHH," Bobbie Jo groaned and gasped, feeling the lurid touch of a black man for the first time in her life.
Held in place by the two Puerto Rican boys, Bobbie Jo was unable to move as Jean-Luc edged closer. She nearly turned to stone in their arms the moment Jean-Luc's crotch grazed against her trembling belly, right below her large, heaving breasts.
The look of stone cold determination on the three men's faces grew in intensity as Jean-Luc started to gracefully rotate his pelvis in rhythmic circles, causing his ever increasing erection to press out against the fabric of his trousers, directly into the stunned white woman's midriff.
Dropping his hands off of Bobbie Jo's cheeks, Jean-Luc allowed his fingers to trace down the length of her upper torso until his palms began caressing the jiggling weight of Bobbie Jo's matronly bosom.
The combination of Jean-Luc's powerful, kneading hands on her chest and the sensation of his phallic monster pressing against her stomach caused Bobbie Jo to swoon as she quickly slipped down the slope of her sexual weakness. As her legs gave out, Bobbie was initially prevented from falling backwards by Raoul and Ivan's gripping hands but as soon as they felt her body go limp, they let her go, and all three watched as Bobbie Jo tumbled backwards until her back landed squarely on the unmade bed below.
As she was falling, the symbolic as well as real experience of spiraling towards rock bottom inundated Bobbie Jo's psyche. It wasn't until her shoulders collided with the grimy sheets loosely covering the bed that Bobbie Jo fully grasped the debauchery she was about to experience.
Looking up through her glazed, slitted eyes at the three men towering above her, Bobbie Jo felt as if the light on the ceiling was being eclipsed as the men surrounded the bed. Trying to focus her senses the best she could as her head rolled from side to side on the mattress, Bobbie Jo heard the metallic jingling sounds of Jean-Luc's belt buckle being unclasped as he positioned himself over top of her.
When her eyes finally latched onto the hazy image of Jean Luc's huge hands undoing his belt and digging his fingers into his trousers, Bobbie Jo frantically began squirming involuntarily on the bed as if she were a snake trying to shed her skin.
Just as Jean-Luc was seductively freeing his cock from its sheath, the outline of his body completely cast Bobbie Jo in darkness as he blotted out the light from above. Recoiling, Bobbie Jo held her breath as the black teen's virile and imposing presence engulfed her.
With his knees pressed tightly down on each side of Bobbie Jo's quivering body, Jean-Luc inched his nearly seven foot frame up the length of the bed until his torso was directly above the white woman's ashen face. Rotating his pelvis forward, Jean-Luc's cock swung like a mighty pendulum across Bobbie Jo's field of vision until he saw the glossy tint of her eyeballs floating back and forth with it, hypnotically following his jock as it flailed inches above her face. Sensing her complete vulnerability, Jean-Luc pressed his narrow hips lower until he could feel Bobbie Jo's faint breath on the tip of his meaty behemoth.
Her mental processes now reduced to raspy fits of delirium, Bobbie Jo could clearly smell the musky and pungent male essence that was wafting down from Jean-Luc's horse hung endowment. Turning her head quickly to the side, as if she were scared of it's one-eyed glare, Bobbie Jo did the best she could to brace herself for it's inevitable attack.