The Super-Duper Ch. 01

Placing his body in between her opened legs and resting his stomach down on the bed, Tristan lower his mouth onto her eager pussy. His mouth lapped up the cream that her cunt was secreting as his thick tongue explored the hot flesh that was hidden underneath her folds. For Tristan, it was a unique taste, it was tangy sweet taste. Even deep into her act of slumber, her hips started to move as he continued to suck and lick at her pussy. A series of low moans floated down to him and he felt his cock yearn for some gratification. He wanted to alleviate his cock's discomfort, so Tristan grinded his pelvis into the mattress, in slow circles.

"Oooh, make me cum."

It had come from the top of the bed. The demand was said in a whisper and it was soft and dainty. His eyes floated up Big Rhonda's body to see if she was awake, but he couldn't see her face. The darkness that was in the bedroom had covered her face, as if it was a veil. But he did see one of her hands slip underneath her night-shirt and to her breasts, where it fondled at the pair. Thanks to the moonlight and the skylight, he was able to make out two supple mounds of flesh that were being caress. He watched her slender fingers pinch at her nipples, which protruded out with sexual anticipation.

"Make me cum," she gasped.

With each passing second that have gone by, Tristan felt the reservations that he felt of performing the dare, slipping. Tristan, as he continued to fuck her cunt with his lips and tongue, felt his perception about Big Rhonda start to shift. In his eyes, she was no longer repulsive as a leper. With every moan and plead that escaped her lips as she slept, he didn't worry about his dick having performance difficulties. It was so hard that it begun to hurt and he wanted nothing to do but buried deep inside of her pussy until it was satisfied. By the time Big Rhonda's orgasm had run through her body, Tristan was no longer thinking about the Crew, about the party or about the Super-Duper. Now, all Tristan was thinking about was having Big Rhonda's pussy clenching at his rod as he pounded into her.

"Oh, what-the-fuck?" he heard from up and above. The voice wasn't soft and dainty. Instead, it was filled with bewilderment.

Suddenly, he felt a hand violently grabbing onto his shoulder-length blonde hair and groping at his face. Then, he heard a shriek and then his face getting struck by her thigh, as she moved away from him. A bright light flooded his vision, momentarily, as light from a bedside lamp was radiating throughout the bedroom. He heard her gasp from shock. He sat up on the knees and rubbed at his eyes, before gazing at her.

Big Rhonda did not appear to be so big to Tristan now. She was positioned at the very top of the bed, with her back pressing up against the headboard. Her legs were folded and were tucked close to her torso. Despite having a shade of brown skin that reminded Tristan of a polished oak chair, he could tell that her face was flushed. Her eyes were wide with fear. Her hair, which is usually styled in two plaits, was now tucked into a colorful pink scarf that was on her head. Her white shirt didn't appear to be so baggy now, according to Tristan. In fact, it was tight and molded to her big, heavy breasts. He glared at her long legs which were toned and curvy. His eyes focused on her feet and her manicured toes. His eyes drifted up to that area between her legs. He was able to view her bare pussy due to the position that she was sitting. He could tell that she was moist and aroused for him. For Tristan, Big Rhonda now looked sexier than a motherfucker.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my bedroom?" she asked him, after gaining a sense of direction. His eyes widened from pleasant surprise, in response. Even though she only said one thing to him, Tristan could see a character shift in her. He knew that the Big Rhonda from the past three years and even the Big Rhonda from three hours ago wouldn't have dared speak to him in such a fashion. She no longer was the Big Rhonda that was quiet, cowardly and who was perceived as being dim-witted. He knew that this one was sharp as a tack, confident and brave. He briefly wondered what brought on the personality change.

"What does it look like I'm doing in here?" was Tristan's reply.

Being the alpha male that he was, he was not going to let her brand new personality to disrespect him. He stood up, on his knees, on the mattress. He could feel his nine-inched prick swing slightly, an after-shock from moving too quickly. It was an effort to let her in on his plans of fucking her into unconsciousness. He noticed that her eyes drifted down to his erect cock, widened a bit and then they moved back up to his face. Pride seeped into his body and a lop-sided grin formed on his mouth. The grin soon disappeared, when he saw the scowl on her face.

"It looks like you are in the wrong room, honey..." Tristan's cock twitched at the 'honey' reference. He really wanted her to stop talking just so they can get on with the fucking. "... Who you are looking for is Maya and that bony bitch's room is two doors down from this one," she informed him.

'Yeah, she is definitely a different person,' Tristan thought.

"No..." he said as he slipped to his hands and knees. He crawled up the mattress, into the direction that she was sitting and came to a halt, when there was about six inches of space in between them. "...I am definitely in the right room."

"Get away from me," she said in a terse voice.

"No," he said to her.

Tristan reached out to touch her leg and she slapped his hand away. Her strike had so much power that his hand fell into a throbbing, after the immediate intense pain had ebbed away. But, it didn't deter him from reaching out to her again. She ended up not only slapping his hand, but she also struck him against his left cheek. Like the lasting result that occurred in his hand, the side of his face was throbbing, as well as, was giving off a shade of red. He felt his anger rise and then cloud his better judgment. He soon found himself grabbing onto one of her limbs roughly and tossing her onto the mattress. Before she could get into a defensive stance, Tristan had already restrained her onto the mattress. Each one of his massive hands held onto each of her wrist and pinned against the bed. He rested all of his upper body weight on her torso.

"Let me go," she said screamed through clenched teeth.

Tristan felt her body shake and writhed underneath him, as she tried to get out of the restraint. Tristan stared down at the feisty beauty and chuckled. His prick screamed for some type of gratification. He rubbed it along the comforter that was on the bed. He could've jerked himself off to alleviate the pain, but he was having way too much fun now.

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, after making another futile attempt.

"You might as well stop moving and just shut the fuck up," Tristan suggested. "Listen—

"You got until the count of 8 to get the fuck up off of me," Big Rhonda said calmly, so suddenly. Her body had gone still and she was not struggling anymore. Tristan should've taken that as a sign of what's to come. But he didn't, instead he chose to gloat.

"Why? What are you going to do to me, huh? You know what; let me count it down for you, all right? 8...7...6...5...4..."

A bright white light had clouded his vision, as the feeling a blunt pain had fogged up his nose. As he rolled onto his back, he realized his mistake. His face was just close enough to hers to receive a mind-numbing head butt. Next, he felt her weight on top of his upper body and soon felt the wrath of her fists as she pummeled on him. Thanks to his need to care for his nose, Tristan left his torso exposed and defenseless. Each one of her punches felt like he was being struck by a bag of coins. It wasn't until a gut-churning blow to his lower abdomen, when Tristan started to defend himself. First, he tried to grab a hold of her fists but she was too fast. Her hands would avoid his and then would land more devastating blows. Giving up that tactic, he went on to his second tactic, which was pushing her off of him. With a fall that was not finesse, Big Rhonda landed onto the mattress. Trying to gain the upper hand, Tristan tried to straddle her once more. She, however, was much quicker and she skittered out of the way. Now, he was standing at the foot of the bed and glaring at her. Even though he appeared calm on the outside, internally he was screaming pain. His whole upper body ached: his ribs, his chest and his gut were wracked with pain. Despite having his ass being kicked by her, Tristan still wanted to fuck her badly. He wanted her to be lying underneath him, writhing, moaning and begging him to fuck her. Strangely, he wanted for her to declare that her body belongs to him. The thought of that made his body tremble.

Big Rhonda positioned herself at the headboard and into a crouching position. He could hear her panting from where he stood. Her brown eyes were glaring at him. In his opinion, she looked like she was wishing him a thousand deaths. Her pink head wrap was now gone from her head; it was knocked off during their grappling. Her long, burgundy-colored hair was loose and framing her face.

'She is acting like a caged fucking animal over there' Tristan mentally concluded, as he waited for her next move. 'She is like—

Then, it hit him. His body had grown cold, and then warmed up into soaring heights. A movement occurred at the pit of his chiseled stomach, which felt like his insides were trying to travel up into his throat. She reminded Tristan of his fantasy woman. Big Rhonda was the wild, jungle native that yearned to free. A smile had grown on his face. When he saw that she leapt off of the bed to try to make an escape out of the bedroom, he was ready for her.

Tristan and Big Rhonda ended up grappling throughout the room. When it came to which individual was able to gain the upper hand, it went back and forth between the two of them. Big Rhonda was laying punches and doling out scratches while Tristan was fending her off by pushing her away. Then, he would gain the upper hand by straddling her and holding her down, if only temporarily. The fighting between the two had reached a climax, when in a fit of frustration Tristan had given her a vicious back hand across the face. She ended up falling off of him and off the bed. She landed on the hard, cold wooden floor with a loud thud and a grunt. Seeing this opportunity as getting the upper hand, he leapt off of the bed and straddled her body once more. Big Rhonda was trying to catch of breath and was rubbing a sore spot by her ribs, when he pounced on her. He had taken a hold her wrists, crossed them against each other and pressed them against her stomach. He held them down while he sat on her thighs.

Tristan was expecting for Big Rhonda to glare at him with a death stare, but her face held a clam expression. He expected for her to try to throw his off and then proceed to kick his ass, instead she was passive. But, he could still feel the fight inside of her body. She was gazing up at his face, in fact. He noticed a thin layer of perspiration on her face, which was giving her a glow. She was panting for air. Her hair, which was styled in curls and waves, was spread out around her, as if it was a halo. Her doe-shaped eyes were at half-mast. Her button nose was flaring slightly, as she gained control of her breathing. Her full, cupid's bow lips were parted slightly, another attempt at regulating her breathing. A dick-rousing moan escaped her lips, which made Tristan press his cock into her belly and perform a grind against her. His balls dragged against the soft flesh of her pelvis. A low shuddering groan fell from his mouth as a long drip of pleasure poured into his long-aching member. His grinding not only stimulated his own organs and made his body feel on fire, but it was stoking a slow-building one inside of his conquered opponent. Once he felt the fight leave her body, seen her eyes roll to the back of her head, and then flutter close and heard her gasp in pleasure, Tristan wanted to howl in pleasure. Without destroying the energy between the two of them, he re-positions himself on top of her body.

In his new position, Tristan now had his brawny, 6'4 frame filling up the space that was in between her opened legs, with each hand positioned at each side of her head, in a push-up stance and his cock resting on top of her cunt. He felt her hands grip onto his forearms before traveling up to his shoulders and then down his back, to the spot right above his ass. Her legs wrapped themselves around his powerful legs. He gazed down at her and smiled.

'Was starting to wonder when you were going to come around,' he thought, before starting the process of rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that his cock could rub up against her cunt. A grunt slipped from him, as pleasure pulsed into his dick.

An airy, trembling wail slipped from her as she felt his thick member rubbed against her. His flushed, hard dick dragged itself against her clit and it sent tiny needle pricks of delight into her pussy. He noticed the serene expression on her face. Tristan could feel her hands tighten their grip on his back.

"You like this?" he grunted, as he picked up the speed of his stroking. Big Rhonda, in response, made a wail that shook and trembled.

"Uuuuuhhh," was the only thing she managed to get out of her mouth. Her hands drifted down to his ass and she gripped onto it, enjoying the feeling of the powerful muscle under her hands.

"Tell me, Roe" he growled, "tell me that you like this!" She nodded her head and he made a growl. "No, I want you to tell me that you like this!" She groaned out that she loved it, before announcing that she was about to cum. Tristan could even feel his climax approaching .The room was silent, except for the noise of skin slapped against skin, as his balls were ramming against her pussy.

"I'm about to cum," she whimpered, as she disengaged her legs from his and raised them up from off of the floor.

Feeling her knees brush up against his biceps, gave Tristan an idea for a new position. Suddenly, she felt Tristan stopped. She grunted in disappointment. He shushed her while lifting her left leg in the air and resting it against his left shoulder. He lined his cock up to her pussy's opening. He heard her moaned in anticipation.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he growled to her. She peeled off of her shirt and made a makeshift pillow, before nodding her head. "No, tell me that you want me to fuck you," he instructed. The thought of not cumming must've crossed her mind, thought Tristan, because immediately spoke.

"Please, fuck me" she moaned, before reaching for his prick.

He allowed her grab onto him. She felt that his cock was slick with her cunt juice as she fisted him with her hand. He growled out in pleasure.

"Go ahead and stick my cock in that pussy," he grunted out.

She lifted her head and shoulders off of the floor, so she could what she doing. Her hand guided the thick head of his swollen member into her twat. It butted up against her clit during its journey and she shook. When she couldn't push him further inside, she used her hips to pull him further inside of her. His cock was greeted with a combination of tightness, wetness and a comforting heat as he slid deeper into her pussy. He bit down on his bottom lip, an effort to keep from cumming too quickly. Once the tip of dick made contact with her cervix, he groaned.

"Fuck, you are so tight" he grunted.

"W-w-well, you-you're big," she stuttered out in a gasp, with a smile on her lips.

He chuckled at her joke, before withdrawing and then slamming back into her cunt. She let out a yowl, which he thought was a sign of pain until he felt her cunt's muscles squeeze at his dick.

"Please, don't stop," she begged as she rubbed at her clit with her right hand and fondled her tits with her left.

"Never," Tristan declared as he took in the scene that was unfolding in front of him.

He began thrusting in slow, methodical strokes. Judging at how tight and how trusting Big Rhonda's cunt, he figured that she wasn't a virgin but she wasn't sexually active. He started out with slow thrusts before switching into a hard and fast pace, which ultimately led both lovers into mind-numbing climax. Tristan felt his cock shoot out several spurts of cum into Rhonda's cunt, as it gripped onto his meat, during her peak. Feeling the last bit of stamina leave his body, he laid his sweat-drenched body on top of hers. He was about to pull his spent cock out of her equally-spent pussy and roll off of her, when she stopped him. She asked him to lie on top of her for a few more minutes. With a curt nod of his head, he laid on top of her. He rested his head on her bare right breast. As he lay there, he could hear her heart beating rapidly and he could feel her womb contract around his flaccid member.

He felt slumber creep over him like if it was a blanket. The last thought that popped into his head before drifting off to sleep was the notion that her body welcomed him, as if it was made just for him.

'She needed to get use to this big dick...' he thought, '...because she will be experiencing more and more of it during the upcoming summer vacation.'

~oMRo~

Ten Years later

"Mama, I want you to have fun this summer. Promise me that you will have some type of fun while I am gone."

She thought about her son's statement, as she gazed out of the plane's window and out at the clouds that were floating in front of the window.

Somalia remembered that conversation as if it happened a few minutes ago, instead of the few weeks ago. The conversation had taken place in between herself and her son, Julian. They were standing in bus depot number 12 at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, in the heart of New York City, along with the other parents and Boy Scout members. Julian was about to embark on his journey of fun, for the next six weeks, at Camp Wint-Wint in the country side of Pennsylvania. Somalia, at first, was hesitant about letting a bunch of strangers take care of her baby for the next two months. But after a lot of prodding from the likes of her parents, her seven brothers, her uncles, Julian and hearing some assurances from the Boy Scout Troop officers, she relented.

Starting when she handed that Scout Master the final deposit for this six-week extravaganza, she has been counting down to this day; the day when her son departs for this trip. Prior to this trip, the longest that she hasn't held her son in her arms was two weeks. One week had occurred back in 2001, when Julian was a three months old and was hospitalized in Brookdale Hospital, due to a nasty cough and a high fever. But, she was up in that hospital every day, to be with her son, despite the fact that she worked three jobs at the time. The second, one-week incident had occurred when her brother, Lewis and his wife Linda had taken Julian and his cousins to Williamsburg, Virginia. Even during that vacation, she called four times a day to speak with Julian.

When the Scout Masters announced that it was time to board the charter bus, she felt like her heart drop into the bottom of her stomach. She felt her throat constrict and her eyes sting, due to the unshed tears that threatened to slip out. She promised her son that she wasn't going to cry, so she silently prayed to God that He could hold onto them tears until her son boards the bus.

Somalia gave her son a few instructions and advice on being safe during his time away, before giving him a hug that was so tight that Julian was sure that his brain could feel it. In a muffled voice, he begged his mother to let him go and she did, reluctantly. She planted a kiss on the shorn, blonde hair that was on top of his head. She knew that when he returned, his head was going to be decorated with a pile of big, loose curls. She watched him walk away from her and towards a small group of his buddies, who were waiting for him. She could tell that they were playfully ragging on him about his mom's corny behavior. He swatted at them and proceeded to shadow box with one of them. At that moment, he reminded her of his father. Before her mind could delve deeper, it was interrupted by Julian's voice.