Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 10

We both knew he was nothing more than a walking sex toy to the women currently using him. Renee made it way too easy having shot loving videos of the man in the double digits. I wanted to make some money before I hit him with the knockout punch. I even sent Charity Gilbert a link to the redesigned pay site knowing how much she would appreciate it.

"Well, she likes it." I leaned back in my chair smiling at my handiwork as Chingy's "Holidae In" became the unofficial anthem of Andre 13.5 a.k.a Mr. D's new "down low" esthetic.

Charity shot me a topless selfie back in fair trade even allowing her face to be seen in the pic.

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A day later I'd racked up a considerable bit of passive income with barely any effort at all mowing my lawn at the time. Most of my neighbors used pretty much the same landscaping business made up of two Latin guys with a stuffed pickup truck. My parents scoffed at paying someone to do the lawn when they had a perfectly good son to do the heavy lifting.

Other than a few random love bomb texts, my phone didn't ring much and there was still no texts from Vicky whatsoever. I'm not gonna lie, this made me exceedingly angry at her putting my original idea of blowing off Tressie's faux "Youth Social" and see a movie or something. I was conflicted thinking it might be seen as a sign of weakness and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Calling already; that's not a good look." Charity sounded expectantly smug.

"I need you."

"Well goddam if you're not going to make it interesting, I'm gonna have to air on the side of caution with a firm "NO" cutie."

"Bitch, why would I bother calling if I wasn't gonna make it interesting?" There was a moment of silence on the phone and the sound of some movie playing in the background.

"How much are you gonna pay me?"

"I'll pay you in inches." Charity chortled before outright laughing at my suggestion.

"Thirteen point five inches to be exact, bitch." The phone went silent for a few seconds.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Charity, I know you want to scratch that little itch; don't deny what we both know, think about it. Imagine Andre gaping your uptight cunt with all that meat; and he's obviously been trained like me, even more so baby. You'd finally get what you wanted in premium condition."

"Can you deliver?" Her voice was devoid of humor, deadly serious.

"Will you do what I want?"

"Depends."

"I'll toss in some sanctioned free time away from your father too, but make no mistake about it, that tight little bubble butt of yours is mine no matter what happens. I'm a man of my word Charity." I could hear her moving around. It sounded like she was in bed or something.

"I've had a lot of disappointment in my life since I fell from grace and whatnot; it gets very frustrating living amongst mouth breathers with no discipline or plan for an increasingly shrinking economy. Despite the loss of assets, I manage. You know what I'm trying to say, right?"

"You're threatening me."

"If you don't deliver; you'll be begging me to stuff three fingers in your ass."

"Okay."

"You're not mad or butt hurt about being threatened?"

"No."

"Okay, so how are you going to get me away from my father? The idea of a bit of free time intrigues me."

"What good, self-respecting father would deny his little princess the opportunity to, go to church?"

"HUH?!"

"Don't worry about it; oh, and Charity?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna fuck you in the ass and since you threatened me; I'm gonna film that shit and post it online."

"Motherfucker." I hung up in her face.

Yeah she threatened me, but I had been sitting there during our conversation using what she gave me to find a way to nullify her threat as she issued it. The slim stacked villainess made a fatal error in giving me her last name Gilbert which allowed me to find her street address and number for the landline in her house. I searched social media after hanging up finding an expired thread which pretty much explained her to me in somewhat exquisite detail.

I knew she wouldn't be able to resist Andre 13.5 and self-joked that I could even toss my cousin Jaquan in the ring with her too if he wasn't locked up by esteemed baby mama number two. I bookmarked her social media thread and Linked In page and other contacts with my phone before checking Andre's online status.

"Yeah, a dick ain't nothing but a handle to turn a motherfucker over with; and if you fuck with me, I'll grab your dick Charity Gilbert." I was starting to get into the bad guy thing noticing that Andre was racking up the coins from a decidedly male audience. I rewarded his followers with a shower video shot by Renee with my "boy" all lathered up. Hey, it was the least I could do for his fans. I even started an Instagram page for "Mister D."

Yeah, evil was starting to feel pretty good.

I decided that I was going to be the ghost in the machine and profit from it as well. Now that Vicky Stone was effectively shunning me, I had no compunction about flexing and finding my inner "Hollywood Hulk Hogan." My search of social media continued with a stop at Shawnee Thompson's page finding her still active with some less than stellar pics posted there outside of Renee's influence.

The page was also flooded with these annoying memes and photos of places and hotel rooms she'd been. There was an incriminating photo of Shawnee with some big, black football player type. She was in the pic wearing the grey camisole bought by Renee while the guy's face was digitally wiped obscuring his identity. I figured she was getting flown out by "interested parties."

"Figures." I settled on one last pic which was a close up of her in some luxury suite in Miami.

Shawnee was lying in bed with a sheet over her head. The way the pic was shot made you feel as if you were under the covers with her, real intimate. The sunlight filtering in from the room added to the ethereal quality of the pic. At first glance she looked serene professionally made up with visibly flushed cheeks. I found myself staring at her eyes which upon closer inspection, were devoid of a soul. This wasn't the girl I met a while back. This was a living mannequin of the woman.

"Ew girl you be wilding out on the dick!" Some unseen female commented.

I found a brief two minute clip that appeared to share the same timeline with Andre's unfortunate pimping out to one of Renee's customers. I noticed this was a transferred vid from a phone. The person holding the phone was level with Andre who was sitting on a chair in profile from the abdomen down with his "talent" on display. Carlie was kneeling between his legs with her hand cupped under her chin amid raucous jeers and peer commentary.

"You getting this shit?" Carlie coughed a little questioning the unseen camera woman.

"I missed it the first time, go again girl."

"Damn bitch, you supposed to be my girl!" More loud peer commentary followed along with this girlish laughter. I was given the impression the unseen women were personal acquaintances of Renee's little cousin. Carlie was stunting unaware she was taking advantage of a savant.

"I GOT YOU GIRL, I GOT YOU!!"

"Okay don't fuck it up this time bitch!" Andre's cock was sticking up I the frame curved at the end still looking fake. Carlie wrapped a hand around the base of his member looking up and around at her unseen gathered friends as they yelled encouragement.

"GONE GIRL, GONE!!"

"GET IT!! GET IT!! GET IT!! GET IT!!" They were chanting as Carlie knelt between Andre's legs sitting on his haunches. Her nerdy glasses were up resting on top of her forehead up against the ball that made up her headwrap.

Carlie lurched forward completely throating Andre hiding his cock from view with just a bit visible above the base. The young cosmetologist had taken the time to shave his mound clean. It was like watching one of those nature shows where a python swallows a small rodent. There was a gross bulge in her throat below her chin looking like some kind of tumor. Her friends were applauding wildly almost drowned out by Andre's labored groaning.

"EW, LOOK AT THAT!! OMFG GIRL!! DAMN BITCH!! HA!! HA!! HA!!" Her associate holding the camera was taken aback laughing hard in this annoying hiccup manner. The camera veered sharply to the left quickly revealing three more women who were definitely associates of Carlie's. They all looked like geeks, nerds kind of built like lanky kids.

"UUURRGGPP!!" Carlie drew back having gone into survival mode suddenly regurgitating a milky goo all over Andre's bare crotch. Even more sickening was the bursts of thick, glue like spunk that blasted Carlie's round face without warning. This caused even more cackling laughter as he took the opportunity to jerk out more of his cum giving her an epic facial.

"AW SHIT, YOU NASTY CARLIE!!"

"FUCK YOU!!" Carlie laughed still retching from having her throat resized amongst jeers and bits of applause from her friends. She looked around feeling the love as they chanted for her to give Andre a kiss with her soiled lips. She found the middle road planting her plump lips on the underside of his big spade shaped crown.

"I regret not getting a slice of that." I made a separate folder for Carlie as my phone chimed with an incoming message. There were more love bombing messages coming from Yoli now sequestered in some remote location.

A attempted return call bounced to a mailbox not set up so I just got the automated message. This seemed to be by design. I kept my line available out of guilt over her assault, but also wanted her to have a life line out of her situation. She'd managed to overcome her issues for a second to turn her back to me as a last tutorial to deal with a nuclear narcissist.

Then she was gone leaving me to honor her wishes after one last dance at the front of Renee, now Carlie's salon. I was motivated to let the Van Allens take up the fight bolstered by what II thought was a burgeoning new relationship with Vicky Stone who ended up shunning me for unknown reasons. My inner thought process was interrupted by my ringing phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey uhm, I hope I didn't bother you but I wanted to ask a favor?"

"You wanna come over Tressie?"

"Stop it." She sounded different making me anxious inside that she might be expunging me from her circle too. I hated the anxiety getting tight around the shoulders with building indignation.

"Well what do you want?"

"Would you mind being picked up at twelve thirty instead of one?"

"Oh?" My brow raised as my nerves calmed thinking Tressie Fisher really wanted to get started earlier.

"No?"

"It's cool, can't wait, huh?"

"We're going to have another fund raiser and the church needs a little help getting things ready. We're also having a bake sale and clothing drive to help this local charter school." Tressie was all business, but I sat there smiling thinking of all the ways I was going to bend her into a sexual pretzel.

"So, not coming over, right?"

"Bye." Thoughts of Vicky came to mind as Tressie ended the call. I was determined to see her in a few hours and get some answers.

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I found it hard to sleep that night tossing and turning before getting up at five in the morning to game until sleep finally claimed me. Even gaming brought me no solace as I thought more about Tressie's behavior on that call. She was uncharacteristically business giving me weird vibes that reminded me of the morning after my epic hookup with Renee Kelly.

I was determined not to repeat that experience. More than anything I was intent on making a statement to solidify my independence from these women as a collective. To that end I'd made arrangements to cement that ideology to Vicky Stone. Her stunning beauty haunted me as I finally drifted off letting the diminishing darkness claim me.

"HELLO?!!" My phone was ringing off the hook as the sharp sunshine hit my barely opened eyes. I'd fallen asleep with my trusty android adjacent to my right ear.

"I've been calling nonstop; are you gonna come out of your house?" I glanced at the face of my phone finding that it was about twelve forty five.

"Oh shit, I overslept."

"It's after twelve, you party with yourself all night thinking about me, huh?"

"You wish, let me hit the shower real quick."

"It's twelve forty five!"

"So, you like a manly smell or would you prefer me to raise my hand if I'm sure once we see each other?" Tressie groaned at the bad joke.

"Hurry up!"

"You could always come in here and join me?"

"HURRY UP!!" She hung up abruptly as I jumped out of bed snatching up some clothing. I had the quickest shower I could muster running down the stairs of my house almost tripping because I was squeezing my foot into a sneaker.

"What the fuck is this?" I found a surprise waiting.

A burgundy 1972 Buick Skylark sat waiting on the side of my house windows rolled down. Tressie wasn't behind the wheel. The woman sitting there facially reminded me of retired actress Lark Vorhees in her youth from that Saved by the Bell show. Her method of dress skewed close to Tressie Fisher's conservative esthetic, yellow collared short sleeved blouse, and long flowing navy blue skirt from my vantage point. I scratched my head as she leaned over smiling.

"Hi, I'm Phoebe; we met last week at the Youth Social? It was my first with my husband Oliver; you remember us, right?"

"Uhm, I guess so; what's going on here?"

"I know this is sudden seeing as how we really haven't spoken at length, but Tressie called me late last night and asked if I would be willing to pick you up. She's terribly busy getting things together for tomorrow's service."

Her explanation hit like a brick to the gut.

I was starting to get serious ostracization vibes staring at the face of some woman I'd never spoken with coerced into giving me a ride to church. Tressie Fisher was pulling the rug out from under me and I wasn't even going to play that game starting to turn around under Phoebe's gaze.

"Sorry, I was gonna tell her uh, something suddenly came up. I'll make sure Tressie pays you back for the gas, ma'am. I was backing off as she looked confused, before speaking up.

"Sorry to hear that, I really wanted to make your acquaintance. Are you sure about this, because I know for a fact Tressie was busy with a whole bunch of volunteers down at the church. I just saw her right now, and she actually texted me that you were getting ready to join me in this car. Are you sure; we could really use your help, sir."

I found myself reluctantly walking back to the car fuming inside as Phoebe popped the door lock at the passenger side. She sat there smiling as strains of "Who Can I Run To" by Xscape wafted through her ride. Phoebe actually waited for me to snap my seat belt in place before pulling off. For some reason she barely seemed real looking like a living Barbie Doll in my skewed opinion.

"I'm very sorry you were disappointed." She said once we were on the freeway.

"Who said I was disappointed?"

"I'm a good study of people; it was written all over your face when you saw me instead of Tressie."

Phoebe caught me off guard because for some reason, I expected her not to address the elephant in the room, or car for that matter. She got right to it sounding casual about the whole affair while I looked away out my passenger window left with no option but to ignore the question.

"Uhm, that's not true." I lied.

"It's okay I understand what its like when you don't get what you were expecting. You were expecting Tressie, right?" Phoebe continued ignoring my body language needling into my psyche.

"Don't you think that's prying?"

"Is it? Am I being too forward by asking you that question?" I scratched my head starting to feel like she knew more than she was letting on.

Phoebe looked almost robotic sitting there behind the wheel with her hands at the two and ten positions on the steering wheel. My foot nudged something on the car floor. I reached down picking it up finding this hardcover book. It read "Why Can't Women Have A Junior" on the face which was a head scratcher.

"Aren't you married?"

"Yes for seven years now; my husband Oliver is otherwise occupied so I had to carry water with the church today. He's promised me a really extravagant date night in return for playing golf with his boss, Larry. I'm don't mind flying solo from time to time."

"Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Well excuse the fuck out of me Phoebe." It was my intent to be boorish, but she smiled to herself listening to the music as I tried to figure her out.

"That was supposed to bother me, right?"

"I wasn't disappointed when I saw you; something really did come up." I lied again getting no reaction one way or the other as we slowed down behind another vehicle near the freeway offramp.

"I apologize; it was inappropriate for me to ask you that initial question. Its just that the first time we saw you, Oliver, and I especially; you gave Tressie an especially familiar hug right in front of our faces. My curiosity got the better of me, and for that I apologize for invading your privacy."

"Just forget about it, it's alright." It really wasn't. I sat the book back down on the floor as traffic started to loosen up.

"I hope we can be friends."

"Sure." I felt like flipping her the bird, but we were already shooting down the off ramp triggering the rampant anxiety it had taken half a night to work through.

I recalled it being more than a especially familiar hug Tressie had received. I pointedly grabbed a big handful of her ass in front of everyone as some sort of power play to assuage my butthurt feelings after being rejected by Vicky Stone. Now, I regretted it not because of what I did and why, but because of what it led to in hindsight. I was angry because when all was said and done, it was nothing but another epic mind fuck.

"Shall we go?" I'd zoned out not realizing we'd parked adjacent to the church front. Phoebe's explanation of things was born out as I noticed a number of guys milling about coming in and out of the building.

"Whatever you say." I replied dryly still annoyed at her nascent prying.

I walked through the double doors secretly nervous at the prospect of visually confronting Vicky Stone only to find her missing. There was some long time church members I recognized helping to set things up tables and all. I was at once confused before Phoebe drew me back to her car trunk removing several boxes which I carried into the church.

Inside the double doors leading to the main floor I found Tressie predictably surrounded by a group of women, some elders flocking around her in a semi-circle. She glanced at me with a wave inadvertently directing the women's attention in my direction. I greeted them chastely feeling some surprising shame due to the fact I'd literally defiled the building with Tressie the last two times I was present.

"Is everything okay?" Phoebe was standing beside me offering a plastic bottle of water.

"Sure it is; don't read into this."

"Okay look, I want to reiterate that apology and hope we can start over the right way. My husband is my rock and best friend who usually keeps me from putting my foot in my mouth, literally my better half. I'd like it if you'd accept it." She offered her hand looking earnest.

"Okay, we can try it out." I shook it out of immediate obligation but still felt like giving her the bird.

Something seemed intrinsically artificial about Phoebe. She seemed glad for the implied reset drifting off to one of the female groups to help out for the upcoming service. I noticed the genders were mostly working separate as I took a seat ironically in the same spot I first come across Vicky.