Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 14

Charity leaned over giving him a peck on the lips without averting her eyes from the movie.

They looked good together. I felt the bottom drop out of my ego ending up in my pants somewhere. I inched backward slinking towards my projection booth in defeat. I felt like a kid up against a man and my posture dictated that sentiment in no uncertain terms. I was blinking profusely by the time I closed the door behind me and crashed into my chair.

"When one woman strikes at the heart of another she seldom misses, and the wound is invariably fatal." Glen Close's voice taunted me in surround sound. My forehead tapped the edge of my desk below the console as I gave the movie screen a middle finger.

My negative self-reflection was interrupted by light rapping at the door.

"Oh, uh hey?" Charity was standing there at the door with an innocuous expression on her face. I didn't know what my face looked like, but it was anything but cool.

"Mind if I come in for a second?"

"Yah, uhm sure, okay." My eyes shrank away of their own volition as she stepped inside closing the door facing it as she began.

"I tagged this place on Facebook and Jayson drove down; said he wanted to revisit old times with me. We used to watch this movie so much back in high school. You know, I saw you standing there; why did you run away?"

"OH UH, I HAD TO HELP SOMEBODY OUT!! LIKE REAL QUICK CAUSE I'M ON THE JOB, YOU KNOW?!!" My voice was loud and shaky, almost rebelliously falsetto. I still didn't look at her face but glanced to my immediate left getting a view of her crotch.

Those jeans were skintight giving anyone looking a really defined look at her camel toe. Her hands were on her hips, purse slung over one shoulder.

Charity surprised me by bending over wrapping her arms around me from the back peppering my neck with a wealth of kisses. She softly chuckled in my ear as I popped serious wood under the desk. The head of my member nudged the underside of the counter holding the console.

"I had to watch you "break up" with a girl downstairs and tell myself how many times we've fucked and done God knows what all over this city. Come on, let's keep it one hundred with each other, friends with benefits until whatever, you know? Jayson's just looking for one thing, ain't putting a ring on my finger. His fiancé is wearing my ring these days. It's just fun and uh, uncomplicated."

"Uncomplicated, yeah Charity; I got it on lock."

"This is not a mind game; that nigga really did follow me over here from one state over looking for my panties. We're not getting back together, okay?"

"Sure." I answered woodenly.

"Don't sweat it; I'm sure you can come up with another dance partner for our friend down here." Her hand was suddenly handling my erection caressing and massaging it casually.

"Now you know that's not even fair." I replied faux playful.

"Oh, well maybe I could talk Jayson into a threesome; I'd love to do it with two guys. Are you down, FWB?"

"Fuck no."

Charity snickered into the back of my head giving my endowment a pinch making me yelp like a wounded dog. The doorknob started shaking distracting both of us as she stood opening it to reveal her ex-boyfriend Jayson.

"Hey babe, we going or not?"

This guy's fucking head was near the top of the door frame while his frame blotted out the corridor behind him. Before Charity could answer, he took a step inside kissing her on the lips while side eyeing me. We knew what he was doing, but Charity glanced down at her feet instead.

"I was just saying goodbye for tonight."

"Hey bruh, don't get it twisted, we just friends." He had this half smirk on his face denoting a smug attitude that reminded me of my cousin Jaquan. I suddenly felt at ease leaning back in my seat arms folded.

"We're friends too nigga; you crazy kids have fun now." Jayson looked shocked as Charity's purse slapped the back of the neck she'd been kissing moments earlier.

"Yeah right."

He sounded suddenly sullen and put out ushering Charity out of the projection booth holding the door open like the perfect gentlemen we all knew he wasn't. I was beaming at this point causing him to do a doubletake.

I gave Jayson Stello a wink resulting in a loudly slammed door.

"Hey, the youth hostels right down the street from this building; it just takes a debit card to get inside." I was opening my greasy bag of takeout when karma delivered a backhand to my face.

My head hit the desk again.

The rest of the screening was uneventful, but the running time left the theatre unoccupied for the second film, a personal favorite of mine. Theoretically I could've closed things down but took it personally that no one was interested in watching the second movie. I busied myself with some paperwork finding that I was still disturbed Charity Gilbert was down the street getting the business from an ex who outclassed me in everyway humanly possible except mentally.

For some reason I was given the impression that motherfucking Jay Stello had the brain of a pea.

I hunkered down in the second row from the back intent on watching the movie but found that my imagination ran wild in the worst way. There was no ground to stand on because I would be the biggest asshole in the world for shitting on Charity Gilbert for employing tenants of my current lifestyle.

The last thing I wanted was to be a hypocrite or simp recalling Tressie Fisher's criminal insanity when she thought I was messing up her relationship. Charity's absence hadn't stopped me sexually in any way and now I had to suck it up. Part of me wondered if she would've really tried to get Jayson and me into a threesome.

The thought lingered as I watched the insane movie.

"Hello my friend!" I glanced over hallway through the movie finding my scheming coworker standing there in the aisle.

"Shit." I looked away disgusted with Zoya Berhan.

"Just wanted to give a bit of thanks for tonight; Abayomi is moving back to Canada to complete his studies and well, you know how it is, right my friend?"

"Don't give me the visual."

"Are you okay?" I glanced over finding Zoya standing at the edge of the aisle looking pensive.

"Taking a break."

I rolled my head in the other direction before looking up at the screen emotionally exhausted. I was so put out and messed up, sort of formless. The movie was playing overhead and all I wanted to do was watch one uninterrupted for once during this student film festival. Carlie was the first invader karmically infiltrating my life followed by Charity Gilbert, my "mentor" in all things evil. This latest series of events necessitated a times out to avoid burn out.

"You look very, very upset; is this because of a girl?"

"Uh, yeah." I offered nothing else.

She inched up the aisle stopping two chairs away from me still hesitant as I glanced over noticing her fully. Her big expressive round eyes stood out in the flickering darkness kind of like a racoon or some other such animal. She slowly took a seat one chair over looking up at the carnage on the screen, then at my face.

"Sometimes you have to intrude on a person's space, if nothing else to give them a bit of recompense from dark thoughts."

"Hey wait a minute; you're a, psychology major, aren't you?"

"How did you know my friend?"

"The way you started that sentence; look "my friend" I know you mean well, but I'm just gonna sit here and finish this movie. I know you mean well, but I don't need any advice. Right now, I think we've spoken more than at any point since we met and I'm gonna take the L for that miss. I got it covered, you don't have to stay here with a pervert."

"You think it's your place to dismiss me, like some little schoolgirl? I simply felt it was my humanitarian duty to gauge your mental capacity. I thought to perhaps give you my ear if you needed to talk it out. I had no idea you would try to diminish me in this fashion." Her accent was thick, indignation palpable as I raised my hand.

"Question?"

"What is it friend?"

"Why didn't you out me to the department head when you caught me with Carlie?" Zoya stared at me in the flickering darkness silent for a few seconds before answering.

"You did not expose my condition with Abayomi to Carlie; thus it was quite convenient for us to have sexual intercourse with one another without interruption quite honestly. Those sessions however brief were quite blistering and satisfying, sufficiently passionate in his one bedroom flat. His naked body fit my preferences quite nicely with all the bulging muscles and generous endowment. I suppose I wanted to thank you for that."

Instead of continuing the conversation, I did this slow clap as she was finishing her explanation, thick British sounding accent and all.

"Are you missing Carlie? I have it on advisement that she has dropped off campus, popped off to places unknown with nary a word to her betters. Is this part and parcel the explanation for your blatantly dour mood this evening? I would like to think and hope for the best that you've not made her pregnant? That wouldn't be the case would it?"

"No, her cousin made her quit school because I used to fuck her." My answer was intentionally aggressive sounding.

"Is that right; you've actually had intercourse with Carlie's cousin beforehand, I suppose."

"Yeah, that bitch taught me everything I know about sex; She trained me to please bitches, so I pleased her little cousin; I mean, you know because you saw me fingering her tight little pussy until she squirted all over the fucking floor of this theatre. Carlie left a puddle, you know; she actually waited for me to get off work and we fucked all night in the youth hostel down the street Zoya. I fucked all of her holes and then we fooled around in the hallway bathroom before coming over here for breakfast downstairs; wanna know what we ate for breakfast too?"

I spoke in monotone still watching the movie.

"I must say that you are behaving quite unappealing this evening my friend." She wasn't getting the message, so I looked her directly in those beady eyes glowing in the darkness forcing up a vulgar burp.

With my considerable experience and the tutelage of Charity Gilbert, I knew Zoya Berhan worked up the courage to approach me. While she was busy listening to the sound of her own voice, I'd recalled the excited expression on her face akin to the same I'd found with Phoebe at the time of our initial tryst.

I reclined backward in the chair covering my crotch with a hand as I slowly stared at her, then down at my bulge before looking up at Russ Meyer's finest studio film. A song called "LOOK ON UP AT THE BOTTOM" by The Carrie Nations was booming from the speakers as one of the onscreen protagonists finally self-destructed from much outside malevolent interference and a proclivity of shitty luck.

"You are quite unpleasant, my friend." I wasn't even listening above the soulful vocals of Lynn Carey which made it easy to zone out the opportunistic princess.

That mousetrap was waiting for Zoya Berhan if she crossed the line.

I glanced down at the seat beside me finding her knee there.

Zoya was looking down at my face busted and we both knew it. There was no way in hell I was her type, we were from worlds as far apart as the earth and the moon. At best I was a sexual curiosity for this privileged princess who hailed from the U.K.

My serendipitous mini-affair with Carlie offered this exotic sister from the motherland an opportunity to sexually experiment with a more than willing fellow transplant, Abayomi. He'd thankfully given me his covert permission to continue fucking his "girlfriend" in place of the supposed "better option" Zoya Berhan. Now he'd moved on to Canada for greener pastures leaving this woman without a dance partner.

Zoya was wearing a black cotton turtleneck tee and beige pleated miniskirt that did nothing to hide her mouthwateringly shapely legs. She was only five four in height but the arresting visual made her appear that much taller in retrospect. Ironically I wasn't all that impressed with her beyond what was hidden under that skirt which ended midthigh giving me an inviting look at those juicy gams.

The side zipper was level with my eyes, but I simply reached under the skirt pressing three fingers against her slit. Zoya reached down raising the hem exposing a white pair of hipster style Brazilian cut undies. These panties looked painted onto her curvy hips.

A pointer finger pushed under the material finding a surprising bush waiting and already creamy slit. Zoya Berhan had come for action likely working it out in her head. That memory of her face and sudden, almost horrified exit the night I frigged Carlie to oblivion came to mind. I had my enemies cousin twisting and bobbing all over the place as she watched from the safety of the projection booth.

Given our more casual friendly exchanges afterward, it seemed Zoya's sexual curiosity provoked her to shoot her shot tonight. I felt guilty for turning the student theatre into an impromptu lover's lane. Zoya watched as I freed my compromised digits finding my fingers slathered with foamy cream.

I dipped three fingers inside again coming up with even more frothy proof of her willingness to get nasty with me right there on the spot. Zoya seemed to get a visible charge from my actions breathing through her mouth. Her chest was heaving as my fingers danced about finding a prominent clit.

Several heated gusts of breath hit my face as she responded timidly arching towards me. My hand shot around her back under the dress finding a big juicy ass that equaled infamous baby mamma number two in every respect except color. It was almost a clone of the ass that had regretfully become the standard bearer in my sexual pantheon.

"Ma rabtaa inaad fuusho?" It was the first time I heard Zoya speak in her native language.

Both of my hand slid under that skirt palming the luscious cheeks of her big, well defined derriere squeezing for all I was worth. Zoya made this weird breathy sound like she was gasping for air as I got my perv on groping what felt like two warring basketballs. She used both hands gathering up the excess of that pleated skirt making her belly button visible. There was this light tuft of hair rising from the elastic waistband of her panties terminating at said navel.

I unbuckled and unzipped exposing my erection.

Zoya leaned across my body obscuring my view of the movie raising the arm on my theater seat. She was trembling nervously still holding up one end of her skirt using the other to pull those skin tight panties to the side.

Her thick bush came into view as she expectedly glanced about nervous, but we were alone in a threepeat of sexual DeJa'Vu. I winced as she clumsily used her shaking fingers to press the head of my cock against her gooey slit. Zoya was beyond excited at the prospect of doing it in public. I slid right inside deeper than I would've thought.

Ms. Berhan was seriously that wet and slimy.

My arms ensnared her narrow waist in a bearhug causing her chest to mash into my face. I could feel the rigid nature of the brassiere underneath her turtleneck tee and the smallish breasts hidden further behind everything else. Wild uncontrollable animalistic instinct was engulfing us both in the moment, I leaned to the side getting a view of her voluptuous buttocks in those skintight panties.

She perked up under my clawing handfuls of her bounty pressing harder against my face. For some unknown reason, all caution was thrown to the wind as I began ripping and tearing until her panties came away in my left hand. Zoya shrieked slamming her lower half towards my crotch with an audible thump. My now trembling hands grabbed her sides.

I snatched this woman down impaling her on my cock to the hilt.

This was her moment, a clarion call as Zoya began wildly bucking her hips fucking me cowgirl like her life depended on it. This wasn't a gradual ramping up of kinetic motion, but full on Nascar racing in the sexual marketplace. This was full on twerking and bopping that put even the most ratchet two dollar stripper to shame.

Her excessive cream provided a potent lubricant running freely from her pungent snatch all over my business, even wetting my balls. Lynn Carey's vocals serenaded the frenzied rutting going on in the empty student theatre as we fucked with nothing held back. Zoya got so hot and bothered she yanked out of her turtleneck tossing it over her shoulders to the hardwood floor.

Her smallish breasts appeared hidden behind this plain underwire demicup brassiere.

Zoya pushed against my face digging a finger into the cup until a thick blocky nipple appeared. She howled in delight as my cheeks pursed slurping hard on the nipple. This unlocked another level of speed as that big voluptuous ass became a popping blurred mess of motion.

I gnawed on the other getting more breathy moans of encouragement in her language while her nails raked my scalp. It honestly felt like she was trying to push me through the fucking seat into the next aisle. Zoya leaned back at an angle grabbing her ankles just above the odd black and white Mary Jane flats on her feet. She was riding me with no leverage relying on our mutual connection.

I was being rode like a prize stallion and Zoya Berhan was the jockey in this darkened theater. Above us on the screen this scene was playing out with the Machiavellian villain stalking his cohorts and co-conspirators after being outed as a trans-man. It was surreal coupled with the manic fucking Zoya was putting to me.

It felt like being fucked by an escaped convict or something actually bruising my ego a bit. This loud, hollow sounding cadence accompanied her bucking hips. This woman was nasty on so many levels, I was starting to have to work at keeping up. I clamped down on her buttocks suddenly standing up holding her aloft like an infant.

This didn't change anything as those hips sawed and ground me to dust.

Zoya loved bouncing on my cock wrapping her arms around my neck enjoying herself to the fullest. My arms unintentionally gathered up her skirt exposing the whole of her excessive heart shaped derriere and a bit of her lower back as well. My jeans fell to my knees in an attempt to handle Zoya properly.

It was the only bit of clothing on her hourglass figure besides her shoes. My crotch felt lathered up with some of it running down my legs as well. Her weight suddenly became a factor as I realized she was trying to clap her cunt into me horizontally. That shit obviously wasn't going to do anything but send me to the ER, so I planted her knees first onto the nearest seat.

Zoya shocked me shaking her wide curvy hips until the skirt joined the rest of her clothes on the floor before resting her elbows on top of the seating staring at me over her shoulder. Now the only thing on her body was her shoes. This was obviously getting out of hand causing rational thought to make an appearance.

"HEY, WAIT A MINUTE; YOU CAN'T JUST TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF UP IN HERE!!"

Zoya suddenly jumped up in my direction getting a fistful of my shirt yanking me towards her as she popped that big ass out again without word. To accentuate what was being offered, this sex crazed bitch twerked and popped those wide hips getting an audible clap. This urban mating ritual ended with an aggressive bump into my cock that stung quite a bit. Zoya Berhan wanted action and she was going to get it in spades.

"OKAY YOU WANT IT, HUH?!!"

"ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE IT TO ME?!! She shot back sounding completely lucid in control of herself emotionally which contrasted with the sexually rapturous expression adorning her face. It was a mask hiding her true exhibitionist nature.

"TAKE THESE FUCKING BACKSHOTS BITCH!!!" I snatched her rounded hips into my waiting cock going hard with the implicit intent of beating her back out.