Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 13

"I know you're not her, okay? You uh, rattled me too Charity."

"Hey, I was gonna tell you that I need a few days without seeing your face; but I guess that wouldn't have gone over well. It's not about anything between us, its business."

"Oh business, huh?"

"Yeah, I've been tasked with finishing up the transition of my former home to its new occupants, keys and all. It's my punishment for destroying everything including my future; has nothing at all to do with you unless you make it that way."

I looked around noticing a few more packed boxes of odds and ends. There were loose papers on the floors as if someone made a hasty exit prior to us setting up shop in the brownstone for a night. Charity Gilbert's former home and expensive airy, had been shelled. I glanced at her as strains of "Pearls" by Sade emanated from her iPhone in one of the rooms.

"We didn't just have to pay Jaleel a settlement because of my villainy; he ratted me out to most of the other guys I'd uh, taken advantage of before him. That Byron guy I told you about before; he got the second biggest settlement after Jaleel. Mother sort of, made a fund to pay off the other guys so we've had to make some adjustments to our living situation, as you can plainly see, babe. Will you have breakfast with me, please?"

"Yes."

I gathered her up in my arms hugging the defrocked princess tight to my body. She hugged me back just as tight. Charity took my hand leading me to her former bedroom which had been converted into an impromptu artist's studio with some half finished work still lying around on various easels. The furniture was missing other than a folded over beanbag mattress plucked in the corner which led to some questions unasked as I noticed a still hanging piece of art.

There was no doubt of the identity of its subject matter when compared to the model's daughter kneeling beneath it on a spread out blanket unpacking various containers of food.

Even nude, Mrs. Gilbert was very similar to her publicly disgraced daughter. Same body type depicted in oil, albeit with slimmer hips over thicker thighs. The unseen artist and live-in concubine had perhaps made the portrait, too realistic explaining its abandonment. Charity glanced up from my face to the portrait, frowning for a second before taking it down and flinging it on top of the beanbag mattress.

She stared at the portrait, then cupped the underside of my package staring at my face, brow furrowed.

"Thank god, I don't have to put you out." My endowment was inert matter proving my physical fealty to the princess.

"Whatever, you know you can do whatever you want with that; all day if you like." We both knew how much I loved her touch. Charity smiled leaning into my chest before pulling me down on the blanket for an indoor brunch.

"Don't tempt me; besides I'm as messed up as you are from last night."

"This morning." I corrected.

"Whatever."

Charity opened a plastic covered container spoon feeding me a spork full of cheesy eggs then began making me a paper plate of those same eggs, sausage links and two Belgium waffles. Her catering continued with a poured styrofoam tumbler of orange juice. She sat on her haunches watching me eat barely touching her own plate with this serene look on her face. When I'd look at her for any period of time, she'd reach in feeding me herself until I batted her hand away playfully.

"So, its okay right?" Charity asked out of the blue.

"What?"

"Me uhm, not seeing you for a week or two; it's not gonna get weird between us, is it?" She asked again.

"You tell me, Charity?"

She bit her lip looking around the room avoiding my face, then finally took a bit of sausage from her plate before regarding me. It felt like an eternity waiting for her to answer a simple question as Charity took it upon herself to fill my cup again.

"You heard what I said last night; don't uh, say it, just nod your head, okay?"

I nodded.

"Well, it's weird for me because I've never said "THAT" before without something behind it for my own personal gain. Man, I'm so honestly fucked up these days that I don't know myself anymore. I look in the mirror and a stranger is staring back. Hey man, I don't want to be full of shit; so, uhm, I've gotta figure this out."

Even though Charity talked around the obvious elephant in the room, I could feel palpable emotion coming off of her.

"I get it; I really, hope we see each other again Charity."

I found myself squinting looking at her face. She started to squint too putting her plate aside. She crawled over on all fours kissing me getting my full response in kind. My paper plate was half tossed aside as I pulled her into my lap making out for a while.

It felt like some sort of breakup as we lightly pulled apart still embracing.

"I'm scared." She admitted.

"Me too."

"Then you understand why I asked, right?"

"You know, we're not supposed to be having this conversation. Charity Gilbert, you're a fraud."

"I'm a fraud?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to be evil and malevolent; I've believed everything you've said up until this morning. Now, I don't give a shit, but I want something from you before I go."

My hand was just under her butt relieving the rich chocolate beauty of her yoga pants. Charity worked helping me to strip her nude from the waist down. I tossed them over onto the beanbag mattress covering her mother's portrait as we embraced.

"What do you want lover?" My hand cradled the back of her head as it gently came to rest on the floor. I rolled over between her thighs getting naked from my waist to my knees.

"I want us to be close for a little while longer."

"So, we're on the same page then, huh?"

Charity already had her flower opened using her fingers exposing the rich inner pinkness. Both of us watched my crown press and disappear inside before she reached up handling my sides.

Charity's ankles interlocked in the small of my back gently urging me downward until I was completely engulfed. She cooed reaching up cradling my face in her hands staring intently into my eyes. We stared at one another as my long sleeved shirt slid away while I went for the short sleeved tee exposing her full sloping breasts.

Her nipples were fully erect nubs begging for attention as Charity looked on approvingly. I took each in my mouth sucking and savoring the slightly salty taste before making out with her fully. The young Ms. Gilbert was stuffed full with my girth which remained stationary.

Let's just stay like this for a while, okay lover?"

"So Charity, we really are on the same page then, huh?" She was hugging me tight with all four limbs while I responded in kind enjoying the skinship and tightness of her walls contracting around me.

"After today, you don't have to worry about uhm, guilt tripping over any girls. I mean, well I know how you get the bag and uh, well shit I'm putting my foot in my mouth nigga. This whole fucking sincerity thing is really messing my shit up. You got me so, fucked up man; just uh, respect my boundaries while I find out, about myself."

"What are you trying to find out?"

"If I can be anything besides, evil."

Charity admitted slightly rocking her hips following my motions as we ground into one another. We weren't really doing it, just enjoying the connection. I managed to fully relieve her of the tee enjoying the view of her naked body.

"Should I be worried?"

"I don't know." There was a bit of distress in her eyes as we rocked back and forth feeling each other all over.

That candid admission at the tail end of our night together shook Charity to her core along with everything that came before it and the fact that she was being made to close out the last vestiges of her old life with the sale of her former home. I wouldn't have brought it up, much to my shame; probably would've turned it into some joke instead of admitting to myself that it made me uncomfortable. It felt like I was supposed to say something but didn't out of cowardice or sheer stupidity.

"Sorry." I apologized.

"I'm sorry too." Charity replied almost at the same time as me.

We pressed harder against one another surrounded by some guy's paintings and the discarded food she'd ordered. Her walls tightened up around me with this desperate grip that forbade any real movement on my part. I knew what it meant holding her tight in my arms knowing we might not see one another for a while or interact because she said she was falling in love with me.

Intimacy on this level was rare, but I'd experienced it once before.

I cradled Charity tighter in my arms letting my chin rest on her shoulder to hide my face and the conflicted truth of my reality. Her hand was caressing my back acknowledging what we were too stupid to explore.

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I ended up taking a car downtown for my meeting at the college with the department head Steven. It was hard parting with Charity necessitating us to meet halfway on those terms ending with her refusing to walk me down the stoop. We used up the last of the hot water in the brownstone and lingered talking about everything other than what mattered.

It came down to the last minute forcing me to leave in a car she dialed up on her iPhone. I glanced back towards the house as the car drove away finding nothing. My phone contained two text messages dispatched in the wee hours of the morning while I was out like a stone. It was Charity's intent to get me involved in something as she included some information about her time in Renee's salon.

"Fuck, I kinda knew it." The message informed me of a new alternate location for a second beauty salon at the outskirts of downtown, something smaller and more intimate that Rashida would be running as its day to day manager. She'd even included its address, but I found that I cared less opening the second message.

"Guess you know me way too well." I mumbled under my breath finding the pic attached to the second message that was intentionally kept from me so that Charity could enjoy a night uninterrupted.

The pic depicted Charity seated at Renee's workstation with her intricate hair design recently finished surrounded with Carlie on the left rocking her signature hair wrap on the left side, while Rashida Sikes flanked her on the right wearing a track suit on her upper half and some obvious booty shorts covering her iconic lower half. The real centerpiece of the pic wasn't Charity, but infamous baby mama number two, Renee Kelly.

She was standing directly behind her client leaning in with an arm draped across Charity's left shoulder almost as if in ownership. Her symmetrical beauty parallel with her clients head as they say side by side in the photo. Her dark hair sans the usual highlights, was down across her shoulders instantly triggering my memory of the nightmare I'd had earlier.

"Maybe, later." I quickly clicked off the pic finding another issue in scores of emails emanating from the dummy email I'd set up to look for new talent on a lark. There were pages of hopefuls with pics and vids attached. The first few pics I received were seriously not up to the standard, but a few leaving me resolved to audit them later.

The secondary campus building was night and day almost feeling like more modernized than its counterpart which had existed alone for three decades prior. This new building was being positioned as the public face of the college as I went inside walking up this angled ramp onto the lobby finding the place a hub of activity. All of the different people from all walks of life made me feel anxious and embarrassed at my limited experience.

I'd lived in a mostly black world up until this point thinking nothing of the actual future for the most part. My boss Steven held a nice office on the third floor. It was sort of an administrative area for educators dealing in the performing arts with some areas of the floor cordoned off for the accounting department separate of the bursar.

These administrative offices were modern with a continued vertically oblong aesthetic that allowed for these nice paneled windows from hardwood floor to roof looking out at the cityscape beyond. I got indifferent looks from some of the office occupants as I traversed the corridor on my way to Steven's office at the end of it.

One irritated looking blonde actually got up and slammed the door as I walked by leaving a lingering echo. I felt slighted irrationally, part of me wanting to go back and open that door to flip her the bird. My rational side wrote off that petulant train of thought as an internal manifestation of my awkwardness in an unfamiliar environment.

Steven's door was cracked and I could hear voices emanating from it informing me the meeting was already well under way. I hurried forward slowing a bit wondering if I'd look like a fool barging in or if I might be fired before I began for being late as I checked my phone. I was on time according to the message looking up to find a sight that stopped me dead in my tracks. Her waist was tiny with this unavoidable heart shaped butt encased in skintight denim that looked ready to burst at the seams.

My experience told me it was precisely a little over fifty inches across as my gaze traveled up finding its owner, Zoya Berhan.

Unfortunately she was glancing over her shoulder at my face. Rightfully so, it felt like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. The office was stuffed to the brim with other TA personnel which rattled me even more. Some guy with glasses leaned forward in his chair opening the door revealing me to everyone including Steven sitting behind his desk.

"Oh, you guys are uh, already having the, meeting?"

"Oh hey guy, sorry nobody told you I like to keep things informal. We just kind of get it going when enough people turn up; why don't you come on in and join us." Steven was completely chill while Zoya made no bones in her body language that she found me, creepy.

"Yeah, uh yes sir."

I was worried the other two female TA associates would pick up on Zoya's nonverbal cues and make my life a living hell of looking over my shoulder and avoidance going forward. She sort of pushed past some of the guys standing besides Steven's chair.

He didn't seem to notice partially focused on some paperwork on his desk. One of the women inside was this large portly sister who looked outwardly aggressive. I wisely avoided her and this apprehensive redhead who looked irritated at my presence.

"Well, right before you came inside, I was informing your associates here that we'd be having somewhat of an eclectic film festival to kick off our department and promote the new student theatre one floor down. All of us were discussing movies, potential films for the festival outside of the cuff. Do you have anything to offer?"

"Uhm, tell me a film you've already decided on, and I'll give you one of mine."

Being a tv head for a good portion of my life, I didn't want to make a fool of myself by suggesting the wrong thing as Steven glanced at Zoya giving her a wink that made everyone chuckle nervously. I felt out of the loop but did my best to hide it outwardly.

"Well, Sharkesha here has already added Daughters of the Dust to the proceedings."

I glanced over at the sister getting a prolonged stare back as she folded her arms across her chubby belly radiating familiar aggression. I gathered she felt out of place too but didn't appreciate her drawing an invisible line between us from the start. She probably expected me to tow the ethnic line. I looked around at most of our other peers avoiding Zoya's face as the only other ethnic person of visible color in Steven's office.

"So, we're doing art films? I mean Julie Dash is a prolific director and I would've actually suggested her 1975 short Four Women; the progressive feminist crowd would love it and the music by Nina Simone is a plus, but you'd probably have to stick her music video work with acts like Tony Toni Tone and Tracy Chapman after it, sir."

It felt like time froze the minute I stopped talking.

"WE USING DAUGHTERS OF THE DUST; THAT OKAY WITH YOU, BIG BRAIN?!!" Sharkesha exploded in a huff drawing attention unwanted to herself for a few seconds before everyone turned back to me as the sudden epicenter of the room.

"Fine, just saying that you could also place that at either end of the presentation, ma'am. I didn't mean to come off as pretentious, but don't mistake me for a whipping boy either. I apologize miss, okay?" I intentionally made my face hard as stone looking her directly in the eye unflinching.

"It's fine, that's what we'll do for that particular Thursday evening; Sharkesha you can do whatever you like and uhm, please take in a screening of the suggestions made by your associate today."

"Uh, yassuh Steven." Sharkesha's instant compliance was telling and cringey.

"What else you got?"

"Tanya's Island." I answered with out hesitation, barely hiding my annoyance with Sharkesha while Zoya burned a hole in the side of my head. There was no way I could look at her without drawing unwanted attention, so I focused on the back of Steven's desktop monitor.

"What's that?" One of the other TA's asked.

"Canadian fantasy film directed by Alfred Sole featuring a love triangle between a shipwrecked interracial couple and a uhm, missing link. It's experimental in my opinion, part of Gen-X pop culture, a deep cut starring D.D. Winters. It's severely eclectic if uhm, there are no restraints rated R as it were, sir."

"Who the fuck is D.D. Winters?" One guy asked.

"What is a missing link?" The remaining female TA asked.

"That's like a Big Foot, right?" The bespectacled student by the door asked as Steven pivoted in his chair waiting for me to answer.

"D.D. Winters aka Vanity, for anybody really familiar with the music of the late great musical genius, Prince. She's know for being part of a girl group called Vanity 6 as the front woman, famous song uh, Nasty Girl. Yeah uh, right and eh, the missing link in the film is a sort of tropical Big Foot for those of you concerned." I found myself looking out into the corridor nervously scratching the back of my head.

"But you said, there's a love triangle, in the movie, right?!"

"Yup." I was prepared to say I was joking but felt attacked resolved to let the issue rest or die with Steven.

"EW THAT'S NASTY!!" The redhead exploded first setting off a cacophony of chatter and jeers making me regret my decision. I glanced over finding Zoya looking at me, visibly disgusted.

"I'm sure it will be okay; as a matter of fact I want most of the content to be eclectic, so submit your lists via email and I'll get back to you guys." Steven was unfazed, looking amused as everyone filed out, some giving me the stink eye.

"Uh, sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about; I appreciate thinking outside the box for a change and I'll be looking forward to your list as well."

"OH, YOU WANT ME TO SUGGEST MORE FILMS?"

"Of course, and do me a favor and post some more of those flyers downstairs in the student center; if you don't mind?" Steven motioned towards a stack on his desk held down with a stapler as a paperweight.

"Whatever you say boss." I replied gathering them up noticing Zoya remained behind.

"Steven, we don't use titles in my department." He corrected somewhat stern.

"Sure." I walked out without looking back leaving him there with Zoya. I figured maybe they were hooking up, taking it out in trade and I had no dog in that fight.

The disparaging look on her face gave me pause as I hit the elevator to the lobby.

The lobby was crowded with wall to wall students, faculty and one or two vagrants wandering aimlessly about the place as I found my self in front of the student center. I was feeling dismissed wondering if Steven were really giving it to Zoya upstairs. It was sexually morbid curiosity as I thought about the proper way to shoot a scene with her big fifty inch derriere.