Maximum Badonkadonk Ch. 15

I popped bionic wood without conscious thought.

The layout of the consultation room was oblong, rectangular in a modular construct which left this wasted shallow alcove to the immediate right of the door. I supposed it was for faculty to store their belongings but didn't have racks or hooks. The low dimmed overhead lighting fixtures added an artificial atmosphere of early evening inside the closed space despite it being midday.

"ALRIGHT BITCH, YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!" Zoya was already shaking her head in time with every syllable before shrieking as I snatched her into the shallow alcove.

This UK bitch in heat already knew what to do assuming the position like she was being arrested with that big phenomenal ass pointed in my direction. Just above us on the second floor we were being serenaded by the muffled tune "Ghettomusick" by Outkast. It was fucking surreal.

"DAMN GIRL!!" Zoya Berhan stayed gooey wet and spongy inside literally creaming from the penetration alone as one of her shapely legs trembled uncontrollably.

That first thrust inside her parted cheeks slid in balls deep with almost no resistance. I let the warring halves that made up her fifty plus inches clap together around my shaft grabbing her wasp waist with authority.

I just went wild pounding that perfect looking inverted heart with intense prejudice. Zoya grunted and gasped with every thrust getting off on the suddenness of it all.

This thirtysomething was a certified freak stuffing a hand between her legs diddling herself adding to her enjoyment. She dipped sharply at the knees almost toppling over only stopping the fall by flattening that errant palm against the wall. Her other hand returned to stimulate her clit frantically making both shapely gams wobble and shake.

"CUT THAT SHIT OUT!!" My palm collided with her right ass cheek in a loud pancake slap that made it jiggle solely.

Zoya groaned as I kept slapping away at her big ass alternating sides nearly falling into her myself. Only her stationary arms kept us aloft as my skilled fingers found her clit rubbing and pinching it making her whine like an alley cat.

"OH GAWD SHAG MY BIG ASS!!" Zoya grunted between these breathy sounds that accompanied each stabbing thrust into her soaking box.

"OKAY BITCH!!" Mrs. Berhan became an instant crash test dummy as I forcefully slammed her into the facing wall of the alcove getting just a bit more penetration as her rear cleavage parted like the red sea before my staff.

I knew how to handle women built like her at this point no problem. When it was all said and done it was really about studying your partner's cues and following their lead while you found your place inside.

"WHAT, YOU TAKING A PISS?!! GIVE ME A RIGHTEOUS SNOG YOU BASTARD!!" Zoya demanded getting a frenetic rutting that made her voice shake and humorously gobble.

My arms were wrapped around her abdomen pinning her to me from the back. The smacks of her butt against my pelvis were becoming more sloppy, wetter. She snatched at one of my hands a few times eventually capturing a pointer finger in her fist.

My hand was snatched up under her shirt finding a bare breast topped with a nipple that was so hard, it felt petrified. She went back to one hand on the wall using the other to reach backward grabbing a whole cheek parting it for more intense penetration.

We were awkward together falling into the wall as I pinched and rolled her nipples like I wanted to twist them free of her body. Her breathy gasps were making me even hornier. Zoya reached back with both hands parting her cheeks wide apart revealing her openings.

"FUCK ME UP!!" Her feet were able to leave the frayed carpet with just the tips touching as I gave her the motherfucking business like an escaped con.

It got even crazier when Zoya started bouncing on my cock like a madwoman. It felt like I was tussling with a wild animal in heat as she planted her feet trying to reach between her thighs for my balls.

"OW, DAMN YOU!!" Her nails scraped my balls getting quickly slapped away. She kept trying prompting me to capture her wrist folding her arm behind her back. This excited Zoya to no end as she offered the other hand.

Both of her captured arms were folded behind her back in custody of my left while I used my right arm to steady us holding the edge of the alcove. Zoya did me one better bending at the knees enough that I was able to use both hands.

She was wearing these Maryjane heels that added enough to her height to make it more of a straight shot. It felt like I was riding her from behind like some sort of human Harley. The base of my cock felt raw from all the grinding. Her big fifty inch derriere was so big that my cock could long stroke it hidden from my view.

"RIGHT THERE!! HIT ME RIGHT THERE!! THAT'S MY SPOT YOU BASTARD!! I WANT SOME HOT JIZZ SO YOU MAKE ME CUM ALL OVER THIS UGLY CARPET!! MAKE ME SPRAY YOU SODDING FUCK!! AW SHIT NOW!! THAT'S IT, YES!!"

Zoya didn't seem to care who heard us through the tall heavy wooden door which separated us from the rest of the school in utter chaos because of my plan to humiliate her husband.

The woman was in the intense throes of an impending climax that was starting to scare me enough that I cupped a hand over her mouth. Her hand shot up like a whip covering the one over her mouth reinforcing the airtight seal as she began visibly creaming and squirting in fits and starts.

I backed off breaking the seal not wanting my pants to be soiled.

This didn't stop Zoya from flopping down on her hands and knees legs parted wide doggy as she manically diddled herself. She began trembling uncontrollably fucking herself in a manner I'd never seen before literally becoming feverish.

She actually began to make a puddle as she came repeatedly independently of my involvement. This was a bitch in heat bar none. This exotic trophy wife created a deep arch in her lower back with her head resting on the floor. It was an invitation I was a little too shook to take, despite her perfectly shaped donk.

"Zoya, I think you need some serious counseling." She chuckled at my off the cuff assessment.

"That was so yesterday and he cried when I stopped coming in to visit." Zoya seemed to regain control of herself locking her arms as she grinned at me.

I felt like I was trapped in a cage with a wild animal. This was more intense than the first time we went at it as she wagged her rear end inviting me over before rolling in a sitting position open legged. Her swollen bald peach was on display while the woman supported her weight on one hand, other pressed to her chest.

She looked at me grinning like she knew the punchline to some joke I was unaware of unfazed when my phone appeared filming for security and prosperity. Zoya snickered a little rubbing herself licking her fingers for a moment before resuming play.

"I knew I was right about you; we should've been hooking up that first day but I fucked it up."

"What're you talking about?"

"Dear heart, you caught me off guard with that screen saver of that well-endowed officer on your cheap phone."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought you were cute enough for a trial run, but you exceeded my expectations spectacularly when I witnessed you caring enough to take care of Carlie, but I wondered if I had a chance. Fuck that's why I had Abayomi grab you because sometimes surprise can make those effeminate tendencies come to the fore."

"You thought I was fucking gay?"

"Bisexual."

"What the fuck?!"

"Well you had that screen saver and uh, I still wasn't really sure even after we got it in. I truly regret opening my husband's nose to you, but he would not be denied especially after we fucked. It's uh, sort of our Quid Pro Quo, sorry."

"You fucking let your husband out of his cage on me like some kind of rabid dog; you're truly a bitch Zoya."

"Sorry."

I yanked my pants up covering my surprisingly still erect member noticing a panicked flicker in her eyes.

"Now don't be cross with me darling; there's so much we've yet to explore." She began to right herself as I stripped off the pink shirt replacing it with my original. Zoya folded her own up over head exposing her bare chest and abs sure I would capitulate, even cupping her modest breasts.

"Out of my way, slag." She perked up at my use of slang from her supposed country of origin positively beaming.

"Come on, at least let me take care of you properly darling."

"In your dreams." I shoved Zoya aside hearing a playful giggle leaving her there in the consultation room still partially nude.

Charity would've been proud of me, but I wasn't going to call her up. That would've been too tempting and I didn't want to test myself in that regard. I respected her too much to do something as selfish as that.

Instead, I was hungry for more shenanigans texting interested parties with a devil emoji.

A certain infamous baby mamma number two was returning home this weekend and I wanted to do my best impression of Ozymandias while she was forty thousand feet in the air with Jaquan and little Daisy Kelly.

Saturday night couldn't come fast enough.

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Thursday night however held one more surprise before I pulled the trigger on Renee Kelly.

"So, what're we doing Phoebe?"

"Shut up."

"What the fuck Phoebe; what is your deal anyway? You've been throwing me shade since the shit went down with Charity and we're cool now, so what's crawled up your ass and died, huh?"

"I just need you to be quiet right now and sit here next to me. Can you do me this one little favor if we were ever fucking friends?"

I didn't reply just sitting there beside her in her husband's car waiting for the next shoe to drop. Phoebe was sitting there behind the wheel with her chin resting on her elbow, driver's side window half down watching the short walk facing this crappy hood liquor store.

I couldn't help but notice the frumpy wool sweater, sleeves pulled up to her elbows or the ripe orange colored jumper covering her body. It was the kind that flared out at the bottom like bell bottoms leaving her sandaled feet partially exposed. Her incredible curves were neatly tucked away as we sat there to the haunting sound of Chante Moore's vocals on the song "Old School Loving."

Something was obviously going down and I had an unwanted front row seat. It was awkward as fuck sitting there with Phoebe who was all but ignoring my presence apparently staking out one of the adjacent houses on this cramped looking block. It tapered off in a weird sort of cul-de-sac made up of the aforementioned liquor store and what looked like an out of business pawn shop with a small trail to the other side of the block cut off by these shitty yellow concrete stanchions.

The surrounding neighborhood definitely wasn't the safest with suspect looking people loitering intermittently walking about in small groupings. I wouldn't be caught dead around the area after a certain hour. With nothing to do, I got my phone out bringing up my website finding a wealth of activity. It seemed like I was racking up subscriptions.

The broad side hit on Renee's il-gotten gains through my pirated talents was being returned in spades necessitating a call to my Auntie Esther who would help me stay within legal parameters while also being one of my premiere attractions. Rashida Sikes unidentified facially through the magic of editing software was racking up comments, but not as much as my Auntie and "Ms. Hate."

"You're looking at your porn, right?"

"I launched a real site recently Phoebe, yes."

"So tell me; do you get off on the creativity, or fucking hot girls; maybe watching hot girls get fucked, right?" Phoebe was still watching the streets paying me no attention.

"I'd uh, say creativity because anybody can make some bullshit and slap it up online. I like the presentation and making the models look their best, uh making content that makes the audience wanna masturbate when they watch it. I just like making good shit Phoebe, so you can call me a pervert if you want; I don't care."

"I wasn't gonna call you a pervert; besides I'm a fucking pervert too. You forget how and why we hooked up? I wanted to fuck you because you groped a woman in front of me. I wanted to feel your fucking hands doing the exact same thing to me and more. I was glad you wanted to film me for your site and I trusted you with my ass and a whole lot more. I told you my personal history, and I didn't even tell most of that shit to Charity."

"Why?"

"Because she was competition."

"Competition?"

"Yeah competition alright? When we hooked up, I had no idea you were really messing around with anybody other than Tressie Fisher at that time, so I figured we'd have a sanctioned affair because my gay husband didn't give a fuck. You were so fucking good that first time, that I was planning the shit out for the next six months. Yeah we were gonna be lovers and shit, but I found Charity in your bedroom."

"I thought we worked that out."

"I did too; especially after you focused more on me when we had that threesome. Guess I was just new pussy to you, right?"

"That's not true; you were so hot that afternoon and Charity ended up there because I felt guilty about getting her in trouble with her dad. What do want me to say about it Phoebe, besides you're married." It was a low blow on my part, but she chuckled under her breath.

"How convenient, but I figured you could come with me tonight because you owe me."

"How do I owe you Phoebe?"

"You traded my husband's ass to get out of a situation with your boss; damn that's low and you didn't even ask me first. I care about Oliver even if I am his motherfucking beard. He's a ghost in our home more than before and that pretty nigga and his little friends from church are living their best gay life now while I'm alone."

"You got Bentley." I plopped my phone down in her cupholder as a sign of good faith.

"Yeah Bentley, right; it really was Charity's idea to bring him along to that party because she thought he was a mark. Honestly, she thought both of us were marks and she wanted you all to herself, so I got the consolation nigga."

"Phoebe, what's going on?"

She still wasn't looking at my face intently watching the walk beside the car. This seemed like something that came out of the blue was she perked up behind the wheel peering through the windshield focused to the exclusion of all else. I followed the trajectory of her gaze finding a damning sight as Bentley unknowingly walked in our direction holding a stuffed paper bag with some visible light groceries and a bottle or two.

He was walking alongside Sister Jacobs a.k.a Ms. Hate or as she self-identified, Chocolate Lavender.

They were talking intently about something and Bentley had this sort of hunched posture which indicated he was doing most of the listening while Sister Jacobs maintained this shuffling gait adhering to her false senior citizen act.

Despite her chronological age, the defrocked church elder was in pristine albeit peak physical conditioning and thanks to my efforts, her secret charms had been exposed to the public.

Irony slapped me in the face considering I'd just been looking at her stats on my site before this popped up. Phoebe lunged for the door intending on surprising them, but I leaned across her body covering her hand on the door handle.

"Don't, you're better than this Phoebe."

Well maybe I don't wanna be; perhaps I want to fight her."

"What would you be fighting for ma'am; you're gonna fight over Bentley? Maybe it's a misunderstanding Phoebe."

"It ain't no fucking mistake."

"But it could be, they're just walking down the street together Phoebe."

"Oh yeah, alright bet money."

She reached down raising her iPhone dialing up her boyfriend who was standing unaware of us less than ten feet away. Phoebe put the phone on speaker letting us hear it ringing. Outside the car, Bentley fumbled the bag dropping some of its contents going for his phone while Sister Jacobs watched reacting to his awkward actions. It looked like he was handling a wet fish until he finally got a handle on things answering his girlfriend's call.

"HEY HONEY, WHAT'S UP?!!" He sounded glib making me momentarily think maybe I was right about it being a misunderstanding.

"I'm missing you babe; where are you, I need you."

"I'm down at the nursing home with my grandfather; you want me to come by when I'm finished? We could get something to eat and hit up a movie if that's alright with you?" Phoebe didn't reply or look me in the face as we watched her boyfriend lie while Sister Jacobs waited patiently standing right behind him.

"No Bentley, blood is thicker than water and you help your grandfather out. I uhm, just wanted to hear your voice, that's all."

"I'll call you when I'm done okay Phoebe?"

"Sure, I'll be waiting."

"Love you." Phoebe hesitated for a long while making me think she would hang up in his face as her breathing became audible.

"I love you too Bentley." He hung up as we sat there watching.

Sister Jacobs stood there watching his facial expressions as he fumbled putting his phone away. The final nail in the coffin arrived as she took his hand staring into his face for a prolonged minute before both turned and walked up to a gate not five feet in front of us. Bentley ever the gentleman, opened the gate allowing the "lady" to walk into her front yard first.

She took two steps and stopped without looking back as he joined her taking the time to close the slightly rickety gate behind himself.

Both of them walked up her front steps to the reinforced steel screen door as Sister Jacobs fished a ring of keys from her purse. He looked about nervous before following her inside. Phoebe sat there staring for a while after the door loudly slammed shut behind Bentley ending their relationship. I didn't know what to do besides the obvious.

"I'm sorry Phoebe; what do you wanna do now?"

"I'm hungry, let's get something to eat." She turned the ignition carefully backing out of the cramped parking space without a word before gunning it down the residential street a little too fast for my tastes.

Phoebe turned up her music hitting the freeway saying nothing more of Bentley. I took a chance reaching over taking her freehand in my own with a light squeeze. She returned the gesture with a hard squeeze of her own quickly looking at my face for a moment. Her expression was not static, but angrily serene if I had to put words to it.

We ended up in a steakhouse on the outskirts of the northside of the city. The restaurant maître d' knew Phoebe from a past visit and I was happy to fade into the background while they reminisced as we waited for an open table.

Phoebe was pensive, brooding to the exclusion of all else as we were seated in a booth adjacent to a window looking out onto a wooded area. I didn't know what to say or how to make conversation without addressing the elephant in the room as she perked up taking the initiative to order our meals without my input. I didn't say anything with personal experience indicating I should wait for the opposite shoe to drop.

She sat relaxed staring out the widow resting her chin on her fist.

"You know I always wanted to come here since we moved, but Oliver was always too busy even when I framed it as an in-city vacation. Right over there just beyond the park is this old school lodge actually a boutique hotel made that way by a nostalgic owner. I found out; he went without me because he wanted to be alone with his boyfriend. They had dinner at this restaurant too; he brought home leftovers."

"You know how I feel about your marriage; there's nothing else I can say Phoebe."

Our server arrived with a basket of sourdough bread and garlic butter accompanied by a bottle of complimentary wine from her friend. She took a slice layering it with the decadent house butter before setting it in front of me.