Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 13

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I checked my phone finding even more messages from a plethora of women all with noses opened from the promise of monetary gain to be in an adult movie.

My inbox was stuffed to the gills as I made the necessary adjustments sending everything to a temporary folder revealing a message I'd been waiting on from Mr. Van Allen. I'd texted him a few days earlier but know felt apprehensive because my on again, off again conversations with his daughter. I resolved to put things behind me for the rest of the afternoon and attend to the job at hand.

Knowing it was improbable, I went into the lounge beginning my work at the corkboard adjacent to the entrance. I posted a few flyers there making sure they wouldn't be missed before snagging a slice of pizza from the takeout counter.

While I was paying, serendipity reared its ugly head in a African wrap. She looked like someone was pointing a gun at her subtly drawing the attention of her attendant friends. Carlie Kelly looked at me pointedly but I ignored her walking to a booth. She left her friends making beeline for my table. I sat back watching her approach without any verbal cue.

"Oh here you are again, uhm?"

"Carlie, you know who I am; Renee's cousin? Well actually she's more like an aunt, but you already know that don't you?" She slid into the booth setting a stack of books on the table which likely were purchased from her clandestine actions pimping out Andre.

"Yeah sure whatever you say; what do you want?" Her eyes widened almost in disbelief at my dismissive attitude towards her and the mention of her relative. I guess that I was supposed to be forever pining for my cousin's esteemed baby mamma number two. I little half smile formed on her big lips confirming my suspicions.

"Playing the role; you are trying to get at her again, aren't you?"

"Can I ask you a question uh, Carrie?"

"Carlie." She corrected.

"Sure uhm, is there somebody you want me to call? I think you are having an episode." I stared back at her manifesting a concerned yet inoffensive expression.

"What?"

"Are you, a diabetic or something; you really should take your insulin Catty." I maintained a straight face as she rolled her shoulders with these little dimples forming at the ends of her button nose.

"Carlie, that's my fucking name." I stared at her for a moment or two before resting my chin on my fist.

"And the other; name's ah, Renee right?" She was already starting to scoot over out of the booth having a bit of difficulty because of the designer tote hanging from her shoulder. It was composed of tan leather in knit-like fashion.

"Fuck you."

"Is this Renee; here right now with us Chloe?"

"CARLIE NIGGA, THAT'S MY FUCKING NAME!! CARLIE OKAY MOTHERFUCKA?!!" I was taken aback at her explosive outburst which alerted some of our melanin challenged contemporaries in the adjacent booth. Some muted laughter accompanied her outburst as Carlie stalked off through a crowd of students.

"Hey bro, you good man?" Some guy I'd met at orientation named Skip, chimed in nosey.

"Oh it's just fine, first year of college has her all wound up."

"Okay, you ask me; that broad needs a good fuck."

Skip's female companion, some pink haired young lady, and an overt feminist in training, took umbrage at the aside. My buddy ended up wearing an ice coffee on his head as a second offended harpy stomped out of the center.

***********************************************************************************************************

I enjoyed the rest of my lunch without incident with my phone as company finding more women blowing up my inbox. I didn't know what to make of things figuring a lot of women had fallen on hard times as I dipped into the folder looking at a few pics after making sure no one was watching.

Most of the women who'd responded to my impromptu ad were of the big and tall variety and nowhere near the gold standard of Shawnee Thompson, the only comparable model in their weight class. One did stand out in dramatic fashion sporting a similar figure to Ms. WTF, but those reported seventy two inches was unfortunately way over on the west coast. Her name was Maria Lorena Espinoza and she included a very short, unorthodox clip with a single pic.

I laughed at the viral clip which revealed her taking care of a persistent stalker at her assumed place of work, Target. Shot from a bystander's phone, some guy lingered at her cash register along with friends getting out of hand while Maria side eyed him simultaneously ringing up a screeching "Karen" with several loud, disruptive toddlers in tow. It looked as if the situation got to her as she suddenly snatched up the offending party smashing him under her kaiju sized butt in one epic squat while people laughed and jeered.

She was this baby faced Latina who reminded me facially of Ariel Winter. That stupid guy was folded over and squashed, screaming for his life.

She sat there on top of the guy resting her chin on her fist staring right at the camera while being yelled at by the "Karen" and several other customers waiting in line while concerned patrons tried to appeal to her better nature. Eventually security showed up managing to free the guy who appeared to be some dumb teen who made the unfortunate mistake of briefly running his hand across her butt.

An attendant manager was in her face also yelling and motioning towards the unattended cash register unwittingly waking the beast as the witless employer ended up similarly squashed before Maria was subdued and cuffed.

"Lot of potential there." I wondered if the clip and attendant pic had even been sent by Ms. Espinoza.

The sole pic included was a partially headless shot of Maria laying face down in a white t-shirt and panty set that had me wondering where she purchased the intimates because of her outstanding size. This likely younger woman was definitely Shawnee's peer size wise with just as many war stories.

I went through a few more pics finding some visual body horror and some suspect overweight guy doing his worst to convince me he was a woman only to earn a bionic social media block instead. It got exhausting after a few minutes as I noticed more entries coming in almost nonstop. I knew I had to put an end to this finishing up my job for the day by placing the remaining flyers in this clear plastic dispenser just outside the double doors of the center.

My mind was on Charity Gilbert after the last few days of drama as I walked outside getting a shock.

Carlie Kelly was standing on the sidewalk about ten feet away with some big jacked up looking bald brother who appeared to be an African immigrant of sorts. She was engaged in deep conversation favoring her expensive bag while what appeared to be her new beau stood there listening casually. My eyes weren't only on them, but a familiar badonkadunk still threatening to burst the seams of the airtight denim they were encased inside. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood on end.

She was holding court with Zoya Berhan on the sidewalk eventually noticing me out the corner of her eye. There was no doubt I was likely being put on blast and probably outed which would undoubtedly end my job as a TA in the film department.

My heart was thumping wildly at the myriad possibilities of that conversation as Zoya intermittently glanced over her shoulder at me, still visibly apprehensive. I didn't want the smoke right away suddenly walking in the opposite direction with no clear destination. I needed to regroup and think this shit out.

"Hey!" I was surprised when Zoya called out to me turning to find her standing a few feet away from me with this smile on her face that read all kinds of menace.

"Oh yeah, here you go ma'am." I handed her an extra flyer, the last in my possession intended for a keepsake quickly pushing it into her hand.

"Why're you giving me this paper?" Her accent was thick with a UK tinge to it as I took a step backward.

"You wanna give your friends a flyer to the film festival; no problem, look I gotta go, see you around."

I scuttled off without waiting to actually hear what she wanted. I wasn't about to let some woman I really didn't know talk shit to me. My heart didn't stop thumping until I was around the corner and a block or more away. I just wanted to get as far away from Zoya as humanly possible as my phone started ringing off the hook.

"Hello!"

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Tressie?"

"WHERE ARE YOU, RIGHT NOW?!!"

"Excuse you miss?!" It seemed like the man upstairs wanted me to be verbally drubbed in one fashion or another.

"I texted you fifteen times and you're ignoring me! Hey, I'm not trying to fight with you; I just wanted to talk!" Tressie Fisher still sounded indignant and entitled getting my hackles up.

"I WAS AT SCHOOL!! I WAS IN A MEETING TRESSIE!!" I yelled back into the phone walking a crowded downtown street going nowhere fast.

"Where are you; can we talk?"

"We're talking right now; what do you want?!!" I wasn't hiding my irritation with her in the least and considered hanging up in her face. There was a long pause, but I could hear some labored breathing on her end of the line.

"I'm sorry about calling you up with an attitude, really. Can we uhm, meet somewhere, and talk?"

"I don't know about that; your boyfriend might not like it."

"Don't be that way with me; I'm just asking if we can meet face to face and talk about something. You don't have to catch an attitude with me because I was short with you, last time we uhm..."

"YOU CAN'T SAY IT, HUH TRESSIE?!"

"Where are you? I'll come pick you up and drop you at your house." She sidestepped my question offering something else designed to get me under control. I wasn't having it after she'd dropped me at the train station like rubbish last time we were intimate.

"Nah, I'm good; taking the train."

"You don't have to; want to uh, get something to eat?"

"Nope." I planted myself on a crowded bus bench staring across the street at a plaza which was a tourist attraction because of these massive ornate fountains. Her desperation was raising all kinds of red flags that I didn't want to address.

"I'm sorry, really sorry; can't we be friends?"

"We're not?"

"OF COURSE WE ARE!! Come on, let me pick you up and we can spend a little time together, okay?"

"Mr. Gilbert's not gonna like that; did you get his ex-wife's permission?" I poked deep getting some verbal payback for Charity Gilbert who'd been made to kowtow to Tressie by her own biological mother, no less.

"FUCKING ASSHOLE!!" Tressie hung up in my face piquing my curiosity.

I dialed up Charity finding that my call went straight to voicemail. Two more calls with the same results spoke to a bargain with her I was trying to break unconsciously. We agreed to take a break from one another so that she could figure herself out or come to terms with whatever she had going on outside of our "friendship". In that moment I felt a lingering pain in my heart, kind of feeling rejected on some level. My phone rang again, this time it was my mother.

"WHAT TIME ARE YOU GETTING HOME?!!" She shouted.

"Why?"

"I NEED YOU TO GO SHOPPING WITH ME!! ARE YOU AT SCHOOL BOY?!!"

"Uhm, got out a few minutes ago mom." I answered apprehensively.

"TAKE ONE OF THOSE UBER CABS AND COME ON HOME SO WE CAN GO SHOPPING!!" I wasn't fooled in the least and well beyond annoyed that Tressie played a trump card no other woman in my life outside of Vicky Stone could.

No doubt my mother thought she was playing matchmaker stoked that two of her picks for female companionship were seemingly vying for my affections. In less than twenty-four hours, all of my aunties would be in the know and by proxy, the rest of the family.

"Did somebody break in and steal all of the food, mom?"

"GET YOUR ASS HOME OR YOU'RE GROUNDED!!" She slammed in my face.

"I'm nineteen."

Predictably I happened across my mother walking out of the house in a hurry just as I was pulling up to the curb. It looked like she'd just robbed a bank or something as she beat a hasty trail to her car only to be confronted by me stepping out of the Uber. I decided to be cute cutting my own path towards the passenger side door of her car.

"WHAT'RE YOU DOING?!!" Mom yelled at me as I tried the car door finding it locked.

"We're going to the store, right?"

"HUH?!! UH, YOU STAY HERE. I GOTTA RUN SOME ERRANDS!!" She stammered.

"I don't mind tagging along." I tried to sound innocent as she suddenly glared at me looking busted.

"STAY YOUR BUTT HERE; I'LL CALL YOU, UH LATER!!" She had no idea I'd been trolling her the whole time peeling out into the horizon line as I heard my screen door open and shut abruptly.

Tressie Fisher was standing on my front porch wearing this corduroy blazer, long sleeved business shirt and a floor length denim skirt looking every bit the junior elder of our church. Her long brown hair hung at her shoulders, a headband covering her hairline which her a more mature look than usual. We exchanged looks as she was already walking down my steps with a hand on the railing.

"I'm really sorry about all of this, but I had to see you."

"No, you just had to tell me what you want; but when you didn't get your way, you decided to blow my shit up; with my mother no less. What the fuck is going on Tressie?"

"I'M REALLY SORRY!!" She stammered almost running towards me with her hands up to cradle my face. I backed up a step grabbing her wrists softly.

"What do you want?"

"Can we, uh go inside; I mean your mother was so nice and accommodating letting me wait in the living room." I released her wrists watching as she favored them slightly also knowing I was being watched from across the street.

"Tressie, you've got me fucked up and you broke your own goddam rules on top of it. I thought our shit was supposed to be secret because you didn't wanna get exposed, bitch? What's up with this shit, and what the fuck is wrong with you today?"

"I want to explain everything, can we go inside now?" I folded my arms across my chest glancing around finding my nosey neighbor and one of her associates watching. Some kids were also getting an eyeful, but I was infinitely wary of Tressie Fisher.

"Don't nobody know you around here; we can talk outside."

"I DON'T WANNA TALK OUT HERE; I WANNA DO IT IN YOUR HOUSE!!" Her face changed, brows furrowed, lips twisted into an angry scowl that reminded me of the night I witnessed her parenting her cousin's siblings. This was your classic angry black queen demanding the throne whether you liked it or not.

I didn't like it.

"You have yourself a nice drive home ma'am."

I raised an eyebrow intending to walk past her up my steps, but Tressie snagged my arm digging her nails into my forearm until I disengaged them without some effort. She was almost criminally desperate looking as if she would burst into angry tears.

"Tressie go home." I took a step or two up towards my front door leaving her there at the bottom of my steps.

"CAN YOU ERASE ALL THAT STUFF WE DID?!!" Tressie blurted out loud enough to be heard across the street. I turned on a dime looking at her face recognizing the panic written all over it. This was a high level of desperation that I'd never seen before.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes."

Tressie's head hung low, shoulders slouched as she nodded profusely admitting what she wanted making it seem like some defeat. I took stock of her posture and the sort of nauseous expression on her face which tugged at my heartstrings.

"Come on inside." She stumbled a bit up the stairs as I took her inside glancing back finding my neighbors in the process of gossiping and having a laugh. Tressie hung back just inside the door looking willfully at me until I closed the door isolating us in my living room.

"I'm really sorry about how I acted that night; it was wrong and uh, well I was being a bitch. I never should've treated you that way. I'm sorry about not being honest with you about William."

"I'm over it."

"Are you sure; because you've never talked to me like you did today and I felt like you were upset with me for uhm, well being official with someone." I bristled inside at her assertion.

"Right, come on back to my bedroom."

I nudged by Tressie walking back to my bedroom where I had a seat in front of my laptop unlocking it as she appeared in the door way. I motioned for Tressie to come inside watching as she timidly took a step forward. I took exception to her demeanor bringing up my page on the original host site while she watched.

"I uh, thought talking face to face would be the best way to get my point across; I never meant for it to happen with William and uh, Charity's just gonna have to forgive me for that. For a little while, I didn't even know what we were after that first time at his house."

"I don't need to know, come over here Tressie." She walked over finding her scenes listed on the administrative side of my pay site. I'd also opened the original folder containing all of her content I'd had yet to use. I pulled out my seat allowing her to sit in front of my laptop and editing bay.

"So, this is all of my stuff?"

"Everything, although your original scene was behind a paywall before I pulled it just now. Your face was digitally wiped in that scene, covered with a mosaic but its been purchased about twenty or more times since it was posted. You can delete all of your material right now and get on with your life." There was no emotion in my voice as I sat on the edge of my bed.

"You're just gonna let me, delete everything?"

"That's what you wanted, right?" Tressie looked at her inaugural scene depicted amongst the others we'd shot breathing heavily glancing back at me, lower lip quivering.

Tressie Fisher deleted her movies and unused content with a single push of a button.

The weight of the world seemed to slide off her shoulders as Tressie leaned back in my desk chair running a hand through her hair. Her chest was heaving as she rested an elbow on my desktop. I took stock of her body language figuring something unknown triggered me as Tressie glanced at me out the corner of her eye.

A slow, easy relieved smile formed on her lips. Whatever was going on, I didn't want to know because I had bigger fish to fry with Carlie Kelly possibly outing me at school.

"Did you really think I wouldn't delete that stuff if you asked?"

"Well, you were mad at me."

"Hey, I didn't want to make those scenes in the first place; it was your fucking idea."

"Says the guy who bought his camera to church thinking to blackmail me into something; and you posted it anyway."

"Says the girl who was mad that I put a digital mosaic over her face; the same girl who opened up to me about a bunch of stuff I never wanted to know and this same fucking girl who already cheated on her man with me before acting like an asshole afterwards when she could've just told me about being in a relationship if we were really friends like she insisted. Oh, did I forget to mention the threesome with your cousin which is all kinds of weird however you look at it?! So, we're cool now and I'll just pretend none of that shit ever happened ma'am!!"

I didn't intend to go on a full rant.

"You hate me?"

"Did you really accept Charity's forced apology, or did you gloat?"

"Why're you asking me that? Besides, you wanted me to get involved so that you two could sneak around together. Don't act like you didn't get something out of it."

"Says the same girl who called up my mother running a con game for some dick; or was it really all about your ego because I wasn't simping all over you after we FUCKED?!! Yeah, I blew you off after fucking your brains out in your goddam Sunday school of all places. So Tressie, have you given Mr. Gilbert the business in the middle of that floor like you gave me that time, huh?!! Oh sorry, it's William, right bitch?!!"