MS. WTF?!! - REBOOTED!! Ch. 05

For some reason Shawnee retained this man's last name having been legally adopted sometime after the marriage of her mother. A lot of people thought she was just an olive colored light skinned black woman until she went into her native language fluently. Her command of the English language and its side vagaries a.k.a "hood speak" left that doubt among those in the know about her Puerto Rican identity during her high school years. Those who pressed the issue were informed in no uncertain terms usually while she was sprawled out atop them pummeling them senseless.

It was one of the reasons she was shuffled into special education by frustrated teachers and school staff who deemed her behavior too aberrant for "polite society" besides the constant chiding harassment because of her former pear shaped aesthetic leaning towards the freakish extreme. Even though she was harassed and harangued sometimes giving into suitors less than up to the task sexually speaking, Shawnee maintained a glib façade outside of her pain and personal issues with her body.

It was her figure that prompted her to move out of the family home long after her adopted father had been rightfully beaten out of it. The female members of her family tried to force their version of femininity on her making her wear a dress after an intense brow beating about how she dressed like a lesbian. None of those damaged matriarchs took into account her situation with the elder Mr. Thompson or her almost daily harassment because of an ass so big on her already plus sized figure, it defied measurement hence her former stage name, Ms. WTF. In fact I'd christened her on our inaugural meeting.

"You, wanted to make me better." Shawnee answered plainly sucking on her bottom lip.

"Baby, you said you wanted to give me one last shoot and go out with a bang, and you're wearing a mask. Why would I cheap out on a legend? If I do some shit like that for your swan song, then I never should've took you to that mall in the first place. All of us were there and we should be there at the end, minus Andre I guess. You've done an incredible job that I failed to recognize when I got here two days ago. I want to honor you before I go home and what better way than completing the shoot we never finished?"

Shawnee pressed her hand over my mouth silencing my very personal speech. She studied my face slowly removing her palm from my lips replacing it with her own kissing me.

"I don't know how to say all those pretty words the way you do; but if you keep hyping me up I'm gonna end up with your dick in my mouth for the next three hours instead of doing a fucking shoot... and I still own this; at least while you're here if I let you go." I facepalmed chortling into my hand feeling her inside my sweats handling my endowment at the base.

Shawnee uncovered me wiggling it playfully while grinning like some plump faced little kid you'd just given a piece of candy. I reciprocated our mutual chemistry cupping the underside of her boob uncovering it solely flicking the erect nipple. Shawnee didn't say a word as I pinched and rolled the nub while she jerked just above my balls in short rough repetitions leaving the rest neglected. Both of us were grinning at each other enjoying the skinship as Shawnee glanced at the laptop screen.

"¡¡GUAU!! FOLLANDO A, MADRE DE PUTA!! ESA MIERDA PARECE UNA BOMBA DE MIERDA PAPÁ!! TIENES HABILIDADES!! THAT SHIT LOOKS BADASS!!" I was unceremoniously shoved aside as Shawnee jumped in front of the laptop marveling at my design skills.

She looked genuinely excited leaning further in until its glare read on her cherubic features. I'd titled it "Battle of the Donks" with rectangular windows on each side playing the footage I culled from their simultaneous shower shoots. Rashida's window depicted her in Shawnee's personal shower with her mocha skin tone enhanced by its white walls while the lower camera angle looking up at the former Ms. WTF returned her huge ass to its former monolithic status albeit through a bit of forced perspective.

"Damn you took my shit old school; is this a filter or something papi?"

"Not exactly, but you don't use that hallway bathroom much for obvious reasons, so I had you squeeze in there and set the camera lower to the floor to maximize things. That's all you baby girl." I encouraged leaning in kissing her cheeks again while my hand snagged a greedy handful of some serious thigh meat.

"Shit, this looks fucking cool, but its missing something."

"What?!"

"A belt; this design needs a championship belt like right at the bottom between me and Ms. Crispy." Shawnee handled the stool about to sit on it but thought better of it shoving it further aside.

"You need to stop calling her that Shawnee; and don't make me remind you how it went down the first time you two met."

"I almost shanked that bitch, but luckily you had my backpack."

"Don't say that girl." I admonished.

"She thought I was gonna shine her shoes or something; and she was hawking my man too; hey at least it all worked out, huh papi?"

"I don't know sometimes." Shawnee chuckled at my answer.

"Whatever, come on add a title belt to the design. I'm gonna be so stoked when I beat gumby at her own game. I'm gonna rub that shit in her face like I'm putting a cigarette out on it for reals papi." I nudged her out of the way resuming my seat tapping away on the keys.

"What if you lose?"

"Nigga please; now put my championship belt up there."

"Its gonna take a moment to design something appropriate." I didn't like the extra work but knew getting Shawnee involved would make things run smoothly.

"Hurry up, and why is my name missing? You got three fucking question marks here."

"Well you've changed so much and I didn't know how you felt about your old stage name; why don't you pick another one Shawnee?"

She leaned into my side hooking her chin over my shoulder staring at the screen then gently moved me aside typing out a revised moniker with a playful chuckle.

"Ass, Almighty?"

"Yeah; so what, you gotta problem with that?"

"Seems kind of excessive."

"But accurate, mine is still BIGGER than hers." Shawnee reminded.

"Wider, flatter like a motherfucking tortilla." Rashida walked into view with Kyle a foot and half away in pants but still sporting a noticeable tent in his crotch. The guy looked as if he were going to spazz solely focused on Rashida's online sixty inches of fame.

"Bitch." Shawnee peered over the top of my laptop brandishing a middle finger.

"That's gonna be my new fuckin name after I clown your ass online hoe." Rashida brandished her own middle finger. She was wearing the long sleeved dress shirt I'd worn to the party from hell which covered everything to the upper swell of her huge ass leaving a triangular patch of lacy white material barely covering her mound in the front. The back view must have been incredible because Kyle was now in full spazz mode.

"Chipmunk."

"Why you always gotta be stunting?"

"It's not stunting if it's true." To emphasize her point, Rashida sashayed a step or two doing a pirouette with professional flourish revealing the back view and the opposite side of those skimpy undies which were pretty much non-existent. She'd taken the time after showering again to add a bit of oil to her famous stallion legs. She'd also added a pair of white stiletto heels knowing what would appeal to me.

Shawnee's fist was suddenly in my pants as my cock turned into a solid steel bar.

I gulped audibly at the expression on her face as she slowly removed her hand. Shawnee grabbed her earlobes between fingers doing this sort of massage as she took a deep breath.

"Hey, its cool; we're just messing around Shawnee."

"Woo Sa." Shawnee replied under her breath confusing everyone else.

"Huh?" Rashida raised a brow getting a palm raised in front of her face "Talk To The Hand" style.

"Hold that thought crispy."

All of us watched her leave again as Kyle piped up actually raising his hand until Rashida looked over her shoulder at him making him avert his eyes flushed.

"I've got a belt."

"That's special." Rashida replied in a patronizing tone before I waved my hand at her cutting things short.

"Nuh, no I mean one of those championship belts, a replica. I uhm, well you need a prop right? A prop for the shoot, I mean?"

"I don't want a cease and desist letter if somebody's shit appears on Rashida's page."

"Uh sure, but can't you put a mosaic over it or something?"

"Okay bro, go get it and I want you ready to go live with one of your shows afterwards; I'll make a thumbnail for you to use, chop chop." He was already speeding to the door when Rashida stepped out into the hall hands on hips.

"KYLE!!" She shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Turn around."

I sat there purposely avoiding whatever they had going on as Rashida folded her arms across her chest with a knowing smile on her face.

"You came in your pants, didn't you?"

"Please." He sounded somber.

"Cut it out." I wagged a finger as the front door shut.

"Having fun?"

"Did you; let Kyle watch you two getting it in?"

"Excuse you?"

"Hey I hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt; I thought it would look good for Kyle's show and everything; just wanted to show solidarity with my, agent. Do you like it; I mean, how I look?"

"You're beautiful every day." I replied without looking her in the face tapping away at my laptop.

"You ain't gonna look at me?"

"I know every inch of you; every hair on your head and I think you're perfect." Rashida walked around the island counter looking at the side of my head.

"I got caught up." She started.

"Don't."

"Can you at least look at me?" I straightened my back peering over to find her there a foot away looking anxious. She was holding the hem of my business shirt up exposing her sculpted flat abs and picture perfect bikini navel. Obviously my eyes center on the skimpy white lace covered triangular patch covering her sex.

Those thick stallion legs looked mouthwatering, but I found myself at a loss for words.

"I got caught up." Rashida reiterated.

I offered both hands noticing she nearly ran into my arms giving me a deep hug. She would've grabbed my junk but I stopped captured her wrist.

"We can talk about it later; let's just have fun and make money. Besides, I really do want to find out who the real champ is between you and Shawnee."

Her brown eyes were burrowing into mine almost begging for something more, some kind of skinship as she forced a laugh. I turned her around taking a look at her famous rear view getting no resistance whatsoever even though she'd put me in "time out" earlier.

"You're already representing the champ, boss." She was working herself back into legitimate glibness as I raised the hem higher looking at the disparity between her small waist and the widest point of her hips. Thunda outclassed other online models and influencers with her long stallion runway length gams.

"Call me daddy." Rashida turned at the hip looking heartened at the bone I'd thrown, then all the way around cupping my chin with this matronly smile I hadn't seen since catting out at Jaquan's house. I put a hand on her waist but she drew it up to a pert breast looking on the verge of tears.

"We're having fun Rashida." I whispered sliding my hand down to her waist as she came closer pulling that hand around to the upper swell of her derriere.

"Okay, daddy." I was given the impression she would've kissed me, but we were interrupted by a loud whistle finding Shawnee there with both fingers in her mouth. It was a referee's whistle.

"¡Maldita sea, no puedo dejar la polla sola por un minuto! ¡Lo próximo que vas a robar son los malditos empastes de mis dientes crujientes! WHAT, WE PLAYING HOT POTATO WITH THE PENE, HUH?!"Shawnee acidly joked.

I leaned forward while Rashida did nothing remaining close as I took assessment of her rival standing there with her hair down looking wet.

"You were holding out on me."

"Maybe, I was trying to get you to buy me something nice to wear; hey you like this one don't you papi?"

"You look, like a fucking pat of Babybel gouda motherfucking cheese in that shit; ridiculous!" Rashida went deep with her insult.

"Come on cookie crisp!" Shawnee sneered.

"CUT IT OUT!" I shut both of them down getting up softly moving Rashida aside to inspect her rival.

Shawnee Thompson stood there with her hair down wearing a one piece candy apple red and skintight to her hyper-pear shaped body. It was the same kind used on that old Bay Watch show except with white stripes outlining the top near her enhanced boobs. The word guard was printed into the material right over her bust as she focused solely on my face shifting her weight from one leg to the other, then turned for my approval. Rashida looked threatened.

The back was the real highlight accentuating her cinched waist while everything else was blown up to dramatic proportions ending in the mother of all wedgies with her untamed monster cheeks going into business for themselves hard tan lines and all. There was a visible spike in my sweats as Shawnee used her thumbs to adjust the back of her suit.

"Bitch you like a whole stuffed sausage in that thing."

"OKAY CRISPY PUT YOUR HAIR UP AND SQUARE UP!!" Shawnee shouted.

"Six dollar Hamburglar!" Rashida took a shot at Shawnee's domino mask.

"LADIES!!" I yelled shutting things down again.

Kyle's patient knocking at the front door thankfully stopped the theatrics that threatened to blow up my shoot for the second time since we met. This time it was the principals instead of a malignant narcissist which pissed me off as I walked to the door with a finger raised letting Kyle inside.

"Oh, you weren't kidding; it really is a championship belt, that I think I've seen somewhere before?" He had the large strap draped over his shoulder. Kyle had also changed clothes sporting a Jordan basketball jersey and some green cargo shorts. For some reason, he was wearing a tie around his bare neck. I ignored the headband too.

"It's called the big gold belt; all of the most famous wrestlers have held this at one time or another and unfortunately, David Arquette."

"Get out of here, shut the front door." My play on words missed him as Shawnee's door was closed on command.

"You can make some changes to it once you scan it; its prestigious enough to add some legitimacy to your event right?"

"Excellent." His reasoning was sound.

Both of the women standing a few feet away exchanged glances.

"YO KYLE RUN ME MY BELT!!" Shawnee yelled with authority while Rashida folded her arms across her chest then pivoted popping out a wide hip rolling her neck as she spoke.

"Yeah bring that belt to the undisputed champ." Her brown eyes bore into his blue ones making the hapless human badminton audibly gulp and look at me for guidance.

I just nodded my head without word.

He took the big gold belt from his shoulders holding it by the strap with both hands looking at the centerpiece then at both women standing there glaring at him in a test of wills. Kyle did the gallows walk to both of them measuring his steps as he looked at each swallowing again.

Kyle draped the big gold belt over Rashida's right shoulder before standing beside her slightly behind the smug woman.

"She's undisputed, sorry." His voice wilted as Shawnee's shoulder's drooped.

"We'll let the audience decide." I walked between both women slapping Rashida's hand down as she sought to make the "L" gesture over her forehead while gently taking Shawnee's wrist.

"Sorry Shawnee, it's just true."

"Chill Kyle."

I stared at Rashida pointedly until she handed me the strap with that anxious look returning to her narrow features. Kyle seemed focused on the side of her head in profile glancing from the belt retuning to his obvious preference kid of fidgeting in place. She glanced at her feet then walked back to the corridor leaning against the wall adjacent to the kitchen and island counter. Her "valet" posted up next to the woman leaning there too as I draped the belt over my shoulder turning to Shawnee.

"Can I take two pictures of you?"

"Yeah what ever you want papi." I chaffed inside knowing that private nickname was more than appropriate dealing with two adult women who acted like spoiled toddlers and worse whenever they were together.

"Get down on the carpet on all fours, assume the position."

Again I was reminded of my history with both women with this uber-zaftig Puerto Rican baddie who maintained a close second to Rashida in the number of times I'd worked and slept with during our association with one another. Shawnee went down on all fours as requested palms flat in her plush carpeting arms locked thick shapely legs spread wide apart mimicking a frog on a lily pad. Her ass was so huge the undercuff hid the tops of her thick thighs. I was reminded of her comment about her original butt returning once she knew I was on the way to her city.

"Give me the arch baby."

Shawnee slightly surprised me creating a deep arch in her lower back that made her gigantic ponderous cakes spread even wider. Her red one piece swim suit disappeared in the back swallowed whole with the material sprouting evenly from the top of her deep tightly wedged ass cleavage. It was one hell of a look that spoke to her new chosen stage name, at least for a day anyway. Shawnee made the arch deeper letting her stomach ride the floor arms folded in front of her. I'd seen her do this before, but only for a moment.

"Ass Almighty." I commented breezily taking the second pic.

I glanced over finding Kyle with a sweat glistened face.

"Rashida?"

"Yes Daddy?"

"Do you have a sarong I can borrow?"

"I uh, think I have one in my luggage; I'll go look." She went back into the bedroom while Shawnee remained in position as I winked at Kyle waving him over. The guy walked over rubbing his hands on his jersey anxious as I motioned at his friend on all fours right beneath us. His green cargo shorts were tented in cartoonish fashion as I showed him the pics I'd taken.

"What do you think?"

"Uhm, pretty good shot to be honest sir."

"Man, come on; be honest."

He hesitated staring a hole in Shawnee's cheeks scratching his head at the right side of his temple.

"I'm sorry Shawnee; you're just, incredible too."

"Too?" She went into a standard doggy style position only to look at his face but found my hand waiting. I helped her to her feet wrapping an arm about her shoulders facing Kyle.

"I bet you could do that trick you did with Rashida with Shawnee right here, couldn't you?"

"WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TRY?!!" He sounded excited.

"Nah." I walked away from him back to the counter leaving him standing there with a raging boner. Shawnee leaned into me fully flushed and silently stoked that I'd defended her honor on some level.

Kyle to his credit took it to heart going about his business setting up in her living room for a podcast which was designed to lightly put an end to the online dragging he'd been subject to on his show and a few social media channels dedicated to Thunda since her initial appearances on the Sly Show and subsequent unsanctioned cohost gig alongside Ken the Comedian. Shawnee remained by my side watching as I scanned and prepared the belt altering it enough to avoid a cease and desist letter from interested parties. She didn't say or do anything when I managed to make Thunda's sixty plus inches of online fame part of the design only raising a brow which dissipated when I pinched her cheek.

"Here you go, I don't know if there's enough material though." Rashida handed over a breezy flower print sarong taking a shot which went surprisingly ignored.

"I'll be the judge of that; Kyle's already doing his show; you know what you have to do."