Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 13

"AUNTIE I'M CUMMING!! AUNTIE!! AUNTIE!! OH SHIT AUNTIE!! IT'S COMING OUT ON THIS ASS RIGHT NOW!!"

Three thick ropes of milky cum shot out of her wedged cheeks right up her back with the fourth being a geyser burst of my own followed by free flowing cum running from my crown like a neglected tap. It looked incredible on camera. For her part my Auntie knew to hold position letting me enjoy the sensation and especially the view. My audience would be ecstatic for this scene.

There were hundreds of requests for this fetish in the comments section under my Auntie's inaugural seconds long video clip. Somebody even posted a pic from some old Cherokee D' Ass video trying to demonstrate what they were looking for. I knew a lot of people were going to be happy as my Auntie drew her thighs together sitting on my soiled lap.

"Shit, that was good even without fucking." She gasped; head still bowed in sexual embarrassment.

She handed my phone back wearily leaning further over as if to rest her head on her knees. I tried to pry one cheek apart finding it difficult because of the sweat and everything else. Auntie reached back grabbing a big handful of meat ponderously parting that cheek revealing the absolute mess I'd made of her damn near bottomless ass crack.

"That good boy; can you see it, huh?"

"Yeah." My hand holding the camera was still shaking probably messing up the shot. Auntie had one elbow resting on the counter running a hand through her hair wearily tugging at errant strands.

"Guess ah gotta get up off of you." She said after a while glancing over her shoulder finding me slumped back with my chin tilted up towards the ceiling fan. My arms hung at my sides like dead weights. She wearily chortled at the TKO.

"I don't care; I don't wanna stop getting up in this ass either."

"Is that right?"

Both of us starting laughing for a bit as she managed to stand on shaky legs using the countertop to support her weight. Just as she was standing up getting her bearings I managed to right my head getting an "In Your Face" of her giant heart shaped badonkadunk. From the middle of her back to the bottom of those floppy, jiggling mature cheeks, Auntie Esther was a complete mess.

"I'm sorry Auntie."

"It's okay, we were having us a merry old time here in this kitchen; heck we didn't even make it to the BED!!!! AW SHIT NOW BOY?!!! NAH!! NAH YOU JUST DONE HAD IT!! AW SHIT BOY!!"

Her cheeks were cushioning each side of my cock horizontally up to the base as I pinned her facing the counter and cabinets balls deep. I gave her some serious back shots bouncing off her cheeks when she slowly glanced back at my face looking shocked.

"You know you're in my backdoor right?"

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My shoot with Auntie Esther left me blasted out ending with a scintillating final hookup that went from the kitchen to her bedroom with most of it occurring in the hallway completely filmed. I was flabbergasted that she allowed me to continue using her backdoor. Both of us flopped out in her deep jacuzzi type tub soaking for a while just enjoying each other's company. She even got me to switch off my phone but waved me off still surreptitiously monitoring her husband.

I set up her page but left it inactive until I could properly edit or digitally blur out her face. Auntie even signed a modeling release but retained the hard copy for safe keeping. She was unaware that I got her on camera hiding it away in a small portable safe in her closet. I was instinctively covering my ass.

I'd spent the rest of my evening flopped out on my bed after transferring all of the footage on a portable hard drive as back up and locking it away. I came across Vicky Stone's letter in my bottom desk drawer staring at it for a few minutes before securing all of my stuff. Every time I stared at this letter, I got a funny feeling, actually more of a sense of dread.

Something told me that if I opened that envelope, I'd be drawn back onto the crazy train that was my life for a few weeks this summer. I found a few messages from Charity Gilbert on my phone and one from Tressie Fisher that struck me odd but ignored them preferring rest. My mother showed up later in the day taking my exhausted behavior as proof that my aunt put me to serious work.

She even asked if I got paid.

I fell into a deep sleep watching some show on one of the many streaming services I was presently pirating. I was watching this old sci-fi show from the UK called Space:1999. The episode I was watching concerned some big weird looking alien monster rampaging through the station wreaking havoc all over the place. One of the series leads, an alien herself and shapeshifter, was doing her best to fight the creature off turning into a few different monsters herself. I'd started watching this particular episode because the monster was played by the same actor who played Darth Vader in the good Star Wars movies. I dropped off somewhere near the end of the episode.

My dreams drew me backward in time to the last day I'd spent blissfully ignorant of Vicky Stone's true nature. She was the first woman to sleep in my bed and oddly enough my mother signed off on the deal by not booting me from the house when we were caught together. I suspected it had more to do with her being worried about my probable interaction with infamous baby mamma number two than anything else.

Ever since I'd laid eyes on her, it felt like this veil draped over me unable to forget her stunning beauty. It seemed she felt the same way popping up again less than twenty-four hours after we'd engaged in a threesome with her cousin Tressie Fisher. Whatever could have happened was beaten to death by a selfish woman intent on hurting us.

I wanted payback for that shit.

"Huh?" I was lightly jarred from a not so deep sleep by rapping at my window.

My heart started thumping wildly wondering if my girlfriend, eh Vicky Stone had somehow escaped from jail. My hands were trembling as I drew back the curtain at the head of my bed.

"Charity?"

"COME OUT HERE, NOW!!!" There was a crazed look on her face as I realized she'd climbed up supporting her weight with both hands on my window sill.

I got up grabbing a robe stepping into my house shoes hoping my mother hadn't been awakened by the commotion. I walked outside around the side of my house finding her leaning against my fence. She started power walking away from me arms folded just under her breasts to a waiting GMC Truck parked haphazardly adjacent to my garage.

The door slammed loudly echoing throughout my neighborhood alerting somebody's dog who promptly started barking. She got behind the wheel as I approached the passenger door. The truck was still on in park mode as music wafted from the vehicle, strains of "JAM ON IT" by this vintage act called Newcleus.

"TURN THAT SHIT DOWN, MY NEIGHBORS TRYING TO SLEEP!!" I yelled briefly getting instant compliance as I tried the door. Charity sat glowering behind the wheel unlocking my door from the driver's side console.

"Hey girl, what's going on?"

As soon as I got in beside her, the first thing I noticed was her phone ringing incessantly in the cup holder. Charity stared outward through the windshield as I hesitated fully closing the door.

"Are you on my side?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question asked from one person to another; just a question between two people who have shared so much in recent weeks, that's all. I want to know if you got my back, like I got yours; are you on my side, or not?"

"What's this about?"

"Yes or No."

"Yeah." I pulled the door up after letting the window down looking at her profile in the darkness.

Charity suddenly buried her face in her hands sobbing uncontrollably, just really losing it. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder surprised when she climbed into my lap still crying. There was nothing I could really do about it but wait until she regained her composure. Her hair was noticeably longer done up in with this intricate Ghanaian styled braids on the sides, sort of an updo up top.

Her body was covered in a simple long sleeved flannel dress as I glanced down noticing one of her standard canvas sneakers missing. The other foot was completely bare.

"Hey, you can tell me anything Charity; what happened?"

She pressed a finger to my lips shushing me as she snuggled into my body drawing her knees up. We listened to two or three more songs before she was ready to speak, quietly sniffling.

"You like my hair?"

"Yeah, looks real nice, suites you."

I complimented as she weirded me out further gingerly grabbing my hand with both of her own kissing my knuckles. Charity wrapped her arms around my forearm trapping it between her breasts. We were listening to some oldies 80' themed station. Lisa Lisa's "I Wonder If I Take You Home" softly played as she snuggled tugging at one of her braids.

"Uhm, Rashida did my braids, and Carlie was gonna do the top, but Renee took over. You, really like my hair, right?" I felt this electric jolt run through my body, brow furrowing intensely teeth gritting.

"WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU?!!" I snarled getting a worried look from Charity still partially obscured in the darkness of the truck.

"Nothing."

"DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME, I KNOW THOSE BITCHES!! DID SHE PULL A GUN ON YOU CHARITY?!!" I was agitated almost going into a rage mentally calling up images of the sustained psychotic hazing Shawnee Thompson was subjected to until she finally broke mentally. Charity sat up in my lap staring ahead through the driver's passenger side window.

"Nuh, no they just did my hair; I mean we watched a few movies and shit, but I got up outta there when Andre wasn't available. Kind of worked out because you ghosted me all day; so I ended up hanging out with Phoebe. She tried calling you too, but you didn't answer so we guessed that must have been one hell of a girl you were fucking."

She was still sniffling a bit with her head hung uncharacteristically low as a question formed in my mind.

"Hey, I was uh, working."

"Fucking."

"Well uhm, you know how I get down for the bag Charity. By the way, I didn't send you any money, so how'd you get your hair done at that salon?"

"Daddy paid for it."

"Wow, how'd you get him to foot the bill for that shit?" She folded her arms across her chest cupping a hand over her mouth for a few seconds.

"He didn't want me around; you know, it was the first time he ever gave me his credit card for anything. Daddy is so frugal you'd be hard pressed not to use gunplay to get even one dime out of him. He always gave me grief for living with mother because we were so "high maintenance" and shit. Said mother spoiled me rotten and that's why he had to pick up the slack when I got busted being evil."

"He had a date?" It was the obvious question.

"I was trying to figure out how to get out of the house without your help, you know, because we always end up doing something sexual. Not that I mind, but with my monthly visitor, it's kind of not fair if I can't get mine you know? Right when I'm brainstorming with Phoebe on the phone, daddy walks in looking weird as fuck. Started talking about how "GOOD" I'd been lately, said I "EARNED" a day on my own so I should go to the mall and buy a nice dress or two. Nigga gave me his credit union card and told me to have fun."

"So, your father had a woman coming over, right?"

"Like my dress? I actually went back to that shop you took me to with Phoebe, made a mini girl's day of things and had a few laughs. She totally put you on blast about what happened over at her place. Guess you were running drills before you came at me, huh; haven't forgot about our little appointment either. I had the best yogurt at this independently run outlet in the food court. I really missed that yogurt since I used to work there; no offense but I was thinking of hooking up with Andre for some of that action I gave you last time we met."

"Charity."

"Phoebe didn't seem too keen on getting in on the action; said she hated big dicks after getting stuffed by some gay bodybuilder back in the day. We had this little back and forth about whether he was actually Bi, but she codified that shit by telling me he was getting revenge on her husband for cheating. Did you notice when you were stuffing her cornhole?"

"Charity, I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on with you." The monotone authority in my voice ended the recounting of her day. Charity sat in my lap silent, contemplative before switching on the overhead light.

"You're on my side, right?"

Her right eyes was puffy, this little crescent shaped pocket underneath it. There was a cut on her lip and a bit of dried up blood on her chin. There were three claw marks just inside the cleavage of her dress. The neckline was square as Charity covered the scratches. She looked at me with some tears streaking down her cheek which I wiped away with a thumb.

"TRESSIE FISHER IS FUCKING MY DADDY!!" She blurted out.

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, walked right in on both of them. Found a trail of clothes leading from the door to daddy's bedroom. Those fuckers were really into it, didn't even lock the door or nothing. HE WAS FUCKING HER LIKE A WILD ANIMAL, JUST BALLING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT NASTY WHORE!!! I COULD'VE DONE WITHOUT THAT FUCKING VISUAL FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!! REALLY DIDN'T NEED TO SEE MY DADDY FUCKING THAT BITCH LIKE AN ESCAPED CONVICT!!"

Charity broke down again sobbing uncontrollably into my chest, snot running from her nose and everything. Tressie's behavior the last time we hooked up proved serendipitous. Hours after fooling around with Tressie, I was laying in bed with her boyfriend's daughter licking my bruised ego. I found myself remembering Tressie's behavior being distinctly aggressive towards me after making the mistake of lifting up her dress. That was all on me, but nothing prior suggested she would react in that manner. I knew then, she was probably just starting to see someone.

"I don't know what happened, I just started punching the fuck out of her face even though my daddy was still on top of her. Just lost it, man I was trying to murder that bitch. She uh, just started fighting me back like she was expecting it the whole time, but uhm-I HAD A KNEE ON HER FLABBY TITTIES BEATING HER UP UNTIL DADDY SNATCHED ME UP!! HE WAS NAKED!! STILL NAKED TRYING TO PUSH ME INTO THE HALL!! THAT FUCKING BITCH CAME AT ME AND GOT THE BACK OF HER WIG SPLIT WITH MY SHOE!! He, chose her over me and tried to ground me with his fucking dick out!! He was all caring and shit about her, BUT I'M HIS FUCKING DAUGHTER!!"

Both of us were interrupted by her blinking phone in the cup holder. I went for it, but she reached down snatching it with the intent of flinging it out the driver's side window. It hit the top of the door instead falling down somewhere under the steering wheel.

Charity's head swooned backwards almost going out my passenger side window if I hadn't caught her. She was completely messed up psychologically over the whole ordeal still crying albeit softly this time.

"Charity?" A foreign voice called out from the car's speaker. It was probably inadvertently activated when she tossed her phone.

"Charity Gilbert you will answer me." This was some woman's voice similar to Charity's own, just more stern coldly authoritative. Her brown eyes went wide in recognition as she sat upright in my lap.

"Mother?"

"Yes dear, I've had the most, inconvenient conversation with your father tonight, rather this morning. You are aware that it is approximately three in the morning?"

"MOMMY!! MOMMY!!! DADDY TREATS ME LIKE SHIT AND HE DOESN'T WANT ME ANYMORE!!! MOMMY!!" Charity suddenly became infantilized at the sound of her mother's voice blubbering and blowing snot everywhere.

"Charity Gilbert, stop crying right now." It was an order without the hint of emotion. I watched this self-proclaimed mean girl work hard to stifle her sobs, covering her mouth with both hands shaking a little. Her chest was heaving, back arched giving this young lady a defeated posture.

"Mother?"

"It is my understanding that you've stolen your father's truck. I just bought him that truck per our post nuptial agreement and it wasn't to have you steal it because you're having an emotional issue. If there's any damage to that vehicle, I'll clean out the rest of your trust and leave you penniless. That means no college next year, no roof over your head and I definitely won't be reissuing your car either. You've cost me too much and threatened my bottom line with your fucking indiscretions. Now you're not coming over here, that's out of the question Charity. So, this is what you're going to do dear; you will return home and suck it up."

"BUT MOM, DAD'S BEEN-!!!"

"CHARITY GILBERT!!" Her mother's voice boomed out of the phone filling the front seat so loud that even I flinched.

"Yes Mother?"

"If that truck is not back in front of your father's house in thirty minutes, you're done. Disowned completely and he can do whatever he likes, kick you to the curb or keep you there for more parental grief. Your father is allowed to get himself some pussy; you're supposed to be a grown woman Charity. ACT LIKE IT!! You will apologize to your father's lady friend and that is not up for negotiation. Do you understand me?"

"...but."

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME CHARITY GILBERT?!"

"Yes."

"Goddam it you are such a disappointment; for Christ's sake I have this artist male friend, Latino who takes care of my needs. I'm renting your old room out to him. You should see what he's done with the place, so bohemian dear. I'm told that you will be baptized at that quaint little church tomorrow morning. I think it's a good idea for you to embrace some sort of religion. Don't you agree dear?"

"Yes mother."

"Well, get to it then, you've got approximately twenty five minutes to return my truck to your father and apologize to his little friend. Get to it Charity." The call ended without her mother addressing one issue of her daughter or offering any advice or support.

We sat in silence for a few seconds. I didn't say anything just softly rubbed her back trying to give her the support she needed.

Then it happened.

Charity's eyes became these tiny slits as her cheeks puffed up looking almost swollen. I started to become alarmed when her lips curved into a perversion of a smile, the widest I'd ever seen. This was worse than our time in the back of that Uber and she wasn't even that angry. My other hand was handling her bicep feeling goosebumps prickling up on her skin.

Charity scrambled behind the wheel with her hands at the two and ten position on it as she started violently shaking. It was something akin to Tourette's syndrome or that late wrestler, the Ultimate Warrior. The steering wheel was starting to shake and creak under her muted tantrum.

"CHARITY!!" I yelled in horror.

She stopped with a extended gasp breathing heavily.

"I apologize for coming to your home at this late hour and waking you up. Thank you very much, but I have to get home and talk with my father and Tressie Fisher. We'll talk later, okay?" She turned looking at me with this glib smile on her face that made my blood run cold.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yes, now if you don't mind; I have to go now."

She popped my door lock from her driver's console leaning over turning up the music. "CHOKE" by John Graham was playing as I stepped onto the grass turning back to find Charity smiling. She motioned for me to close the door turning back towards the windshield like a robot.

She gunned it out of there once the door closed burning rubber. The resultant screech echoed throughout the darkness along with my neighbor's barking dog.

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