THUNDA - Under New Management Ch. 08

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It was like fucking a cloud and would've been disappointing if it weren't for her scintillatingly hot snatch in the eye of the storm. Sydney's pussy was no joke. My curiosity wanted me to strip her nude in that small cramped recording studio; sort of see how she looked completely naked. She tugged at my thumb again bringing me down close again.

"We don't have much time; fuck it harder and don't forget to cum in my backdoor."

"Alright, I'm gonna cum right now Sydney." I replied bouncing off her inflated buns in the back. I couldn't help looking down at my obscured lap full of her big yellow butt making those tattooed stars fly all over the place.

I reached down grabbing her thighs pulling her knees off the chair planting them on the carpet which left her chest on the seat. Sydney reached back parting her cheeks revealing her rear entrance with both knees tightly wedged together as I pushed inside finding she was no novice at anal sex. Her hands shot up grabbing the arms of my chair as I bulldogged her butt to mush finding a lot more traction with my feet planted on either side of her.

"I FEEL IT!!! YOU'RE MARKING ME WITH YOUR FUCKING CUM MY KING!! AW SHIT!! AW FUCK IT'S GOOD!!" Sydney's composure melted away like butter as her proclivity for rough anal was put on full display. This was it for me too due to the sexy moaning and whining. Hearing women getting off always set me off from day one.

I blew three explosive ropes of jizz deep in her bowels still fucking away at her butt for a few more minutes before withdrawing with little sputters wetting up her overly malleable buttocks. Her star tattoos got a bit of shine as Sydney straightened her back surprising me with a quick vacuumed clean up blow job that made my eyes roll up into my head.

She jerked roughly on my cock making my eyes water before running the flat of her tongue up my inner thigh.

Both of us basked in the afterglow.. for a few seconds.

"Ah, well I guess, uhm...shit." Sydney rubbed her forehead with her palm looking down at her state of undress unaware that she looked as if she'd been mauled by a bear.

I pulled my pants up slowly watching her gather herself crawling about on the floor retrieving her glasses. Part of me wanted to get some more of that monster marshmallow at the bottom of her waist, but I knew better retrieving my own phone from the floor. Sydney knelt gathering her dress looking conflicted as she regarded me.

"Whoa nigga; now I know why that bitch was tripping-uhm excuse me but you know we can't let this shit leave this room. I got endorsements, a morals clause in my contract and Sly would lose his shit!! Trust me you don't wanna see that motherfucker tripping balls; we'll never get him back out of rehab. Fuck man I'll hit you up with some more cash, you feeling me, or what?"

"Whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas Sydney; ain't we in Vegas?" I was buckling up feeling suitably weirded out wondering if Rashida was still hanging out upstairs. Sydney was frantically trying to make herself presentable as I checked my phone intending to walk out the studio door.

"HEY!! HEY!! HEY, WAIT MY KING!! You can't go out there after this; hit that other exit door on the side nigga. Don't worry some rappers broke the alarm on the fire exit so they could smoke out there. Damn you got my pussy and my fucking ass lit!! Guess you really are the Educated Simp after all. Damn that bitch was right."

She was talking to herself more than me all but ignoring everything looking around the studio like a crackhead looking for a rock until she recovered her phone. Sydney was completely scattered brained muttering under her breath some inaudible conversation with herself. Her more urban tone didn't go unnoticed.

"So, interview's over?"

"Yeah sure, now you get up outta here down them stairs back to the main lobby. The door at the bottom opens right out into the lobby-DON'T TELL ANYBODY ABOUT THIS!!"

"About what?" It took her a few moments to get it.

"Get outta here; I've got to get back to work."

Across the room was the aforementioned fire exit which led out into a rather unfinished sparsely lit stairwell that I followed to the first floor. I was seriously anxious replaying the events in my head on a loop telling myself it wasn't possible. I'd given a celebrity the business but didn't care beyond wishing I could've stripped her down for some real work.

There was a nagging curiosity in my mind about what she looked like fully nude and what I could do to her further sexually. By the time I reached the first floor landing, I'd told myself it was a one and done.

Rashida was standing there in the middle of the lobby with the same portly rent-a-cop I'd seen earlier on the fourth floor. She was thankfully covered up in her long raincoat hiding her salacious attire from view but not her ridiculous curves.

"WHERE YOU BEEN?!!" We met in the center of the building lobby as I fished out my phone finding that I'd been plowing Sydney for two hours. I was unintentionally fidgety trying not to be obvious about things, actually embarrassed.

"Uh, I got caught up looking for a bathroom."

"Serious daddy?" Rashida adjusted the collar on my shirt looking less irritated, more motherly in that instant.

"Yeah, everything go okay up there?"

"It was the usual shit show with thirsty niggas all over the place; I would be mad at you for making me wear this skimpy shit but I got some good publicity and maybe a few jobs." Rashida slung her trusty satchel bag taking me by the bicep.

"What?"

"Music video shit with some of them rappers; and that goofy ass fat dude is talking about how he got a Netflix special coming up, but I think he's trying to get into my panties. I know you're gonna make sure everything is on the up and up, right bruh?" We were walking across the cavernous building lobby towards the revolving doors.

"ME?!!"

"YEAH YOU; AIN'T YOU MY MANAGER?!!" Rashida stopped abruptly with a raised brow checking me out a few feet from the building entrance. For some reason I didn't know what to do with my hands.

"Oh, right girl; I'll look into it for you." I replied non-committedly.

"Hey man you okay; not trying to point the finger but you're hella jumpy all of a sudden?"

"I'm fine; and since you were up there, why didn't you bring me a Danish or something huh Rashida? I'm hungry; you hungry baby or did you kill all the catering in the green room or what?!" I was talking out the side of my neck not fooling her one bit as she manifested a smarmy expression.

"ALRIGHT WHAT HAPPENED?!!"

"What do you mean? NOTHING HAPPENED, uhm its just like I said before. I got mixed up around here looking for a bathroom and the security here is straight lacking if you ask me. AIN'T YOU HUNGRY GIRL; I'M BUYING?!!"

"Oh you're buying, huh?" Rashida was frustrating me standing there tapping her foot on the tiled floor as I glanced about before settling on her face shrugging.

"Yeah, I'm buying." I replied in varying tones.

"HEY IS TAKISHA HERE OR SOMETHING?!" Rashida accused out of nowhere.

"NO!!" She inched in closer scrutinizing my face making me even more uncomfortable.

"Hey man I know that bony bitch is coming in today and I'm thinking she already popped up because you got that look on your face bruh; ask me what look I'm fucking referring to daddy?"

"Uh, what look?"

"That I JUST FUCKED TAKISHA look; know what I'm referring to now, huh? Did you fuck her this morning while I was upstairs? Tell me that wire frame 304 didn't pop up like Freddie Kruger on your ass this morning; come on bruh?!! I BET YOU JUST GOT THROUGH FUCKING HER IN THE ASS DIDN'T YOU?!! Tell me I'm wrong negro!!"

"I'll tell your big ass that you're embarrassing us right here in this fucking lobby."

Rashida took a look around at some of the passing pedestrians starting to filter into the lobby around us. Despite the sparse numbers, she got my meaning glancing down at her heels.

"So, you're buying, right?"

"I got it covered Rashida." I took her arm in mine walking to the revolving doors. She turned to me just before we exited.

"That's what I'm afraid of daddy."

My hand landed in the middle of her sixty plus inches of online fame with a loud smack.

***********************************************************************************************************

Rashida turned on the show while we were enroute to my job. We'd just left a drive through window.

"Look Ken, we love having you here on the show to liven things up around here; I love you like a brother and you're my best male friend. We go back way too far to be having any kind of issues that can't be resolved with a simple conversation. We can always find a path to resolution no matter how difficult. Ken, that being said, sometimes you can be egregiously out of pocket. Today, this morning, was one of those times my friend."

"Oh, is that right Sydney; is that what you're saying through all that damn word salad, huh?" Ken the Comedian sounded weary and verbally worn. We'd missed a good portion of the show.

"You were in ERROR; and OUT of POCKET!! Is that SIMPLE ENOUGH for you?"

Sydney's voice was decidedly strained sounding as if she were audibly trying to regulate her tone as Sly cut into the already in progress conversation.

"Hey guys I love you both, we don't have to give this a public forum; we can all hook up for drinks later and hash it out. You two are like brother and sister, come on guys! We're good, right?"

"Bruh, I'm down with that but you know I keeps it real Sly. That's how I always roll, never skipped a beat since day one of my career man. Everybody here know how much I done give up in my career cause of my mouth. Sydney girl I love you to death but I gotta call it like I see it. If you gonna hold that shit against me, I ain't got no problem being up the road, REAL TALK RIGHT HERE!!"

"Come on Ken, we good brother; you guys need to squash this mess and hug it out." Sly tried to mediate but she wasn't having it.

"Keep my name out your mouth!"

"SYDNEY!!!"

The studio burst into an uproar of continuous chatter and peer commentary that was nearly indecipherable as I glanced over finding Rashida eyeballing me. I knew I was busted but looked away out my passenger side window.

There was a lot of noise and the sound of furniture moving about, chairs dragging on the floor as she reached down in the side pocket of the driver's side door retrieving her phone. I perked up as she started tapping away on it while driving.

"What're you doing?"

"I wanna see the whole thing on their YouTube channel; this had to have happened right after we left."

"You know, what you're doing there is against the law; uh, you could get a ticket for that." I was starting to feel queasy watching her actions.

"Whatever, we're almost at your job anyway; maybe I'll just sit outside in my car watching the show."

"I SAID I'D DOWNLOAD IT FOR YOU!" I blurted out without thinking drawing her attention as we tooled down the block approaching my building.

"We good, right?"

"Uh, yeah." I didn't sound convincing as she pulled parallel with the curb putting the car in park despite three cars being directly behind us immediately honking their horns.

"Daddy I'm never gonna leave your corner, and I ain't gonna judge you."

"Uh right, see you around." I snatched up my camera bag almost running out of Rashida's car. I didn't look back hurriedly trying to escape responsibility for the chaos on the radio show playing in her car.

Clocking in was relatively uneventful due to my boss Dr. Miles being locked in an administrative for half of the morning which left me some well needed calm. Curiosity got my tongue as I worked alone for a few hours finally secreting myself away inside a bathroom stall on the second floor.

I discovered that Sydney returned to her cohost duties on the early morning radio show wearing more familiar clothing which didn't go unnoticed by the resident comedian and unofficial cohost, Ken. In the most boorish fashion possible, Sydney was called out for "Moving kinda Funny" which led to the on-air argument.

Of course Dr. Miles was waiting for me with a laundry list of work related chores completely ignoring my lazing coworker sitting in the second floor AV office texting away on his phone. In his company was a new employee hired during my hiatus after someone quit citing his "patriarchal attitude" as the deciding factor.

I was introduced to Lucia as my "trainee" and informed that she would be sticking to me like glue until she was ready to fly solo in the AV department. She was barely over five feet of height, but sort of wide, a BBW. Her face was round and somewhat fetching, yet familiar.

"You uh, like working here?" She asked as we were setting up a study hall together.

"It's cool, I don't have a commute between work and school this way." I answered innocuously focused on my work.

"Well, I'm glad I'm working with you."

"Huh?" I was busy setting up a projector on a table in the middle of the room for another faculty meeting later in the afternoon.

"Don't recognize me, huh?" I stopped looking back at her not placing the face.

Lucia didn't ring any visual bells as I automatically took stock of her as a whole noticing her rather dowdy posture and the fact that she was wearing an unzipped hoodie over our uniform shirt. Dr. Miles was usually a stickler for uniformity.

"Excuse me?"

"OH, UH SORRY!! It's just that I kinda always see you downstairs in the student center? You usually sit in the next to last booth by the window facing the front of the school. OH WOW!! I must sound like a creep, huh? I mean I started noticing you after that time you clowned the crap out of Dr. Zoya Berhan. I was at the next table over with some uh, friends. Uhm, you were really funny, that day."

I just looked at her face suddenly remembering her at the opposite table full of sisters who definitely weren't fans.

"Sorry, I uhm, kinda dropped the ball, right?"

"Don't worry about it." I raised a brow starting to turn back to the work at hand.

"I don't get out much, I'm a little sheltered. Uh, just wanted to explain the weird factor." She was a kid in my eyes despite the fact that we might be the same age chronologically speaking.

"Didn't ask."

"Sorry."

I didn't say anything else finishing up the room as she loitered about just sort of wandering around the rectangular room. Due to the workplace dynamic, I was a lone wolf serving as the unofficial anchor of the AV department. It didn't help that I had a perpetual target on my back because our boss was friends with the couple who'd tried to finesse me out of my ass. Honestly I should've been fired along with the "Berhans" after the epic revenge prank I'd pulled to get out of that situation.

Even though he thought I was bad news, the boss saddled me with Lucia.

"Hey uh, Lucia?"

"Lucy."

"What?"

"Everyone just calls me Lucy; ever since I was in kindergarten no matter what I said. My folks just told me to lump it, so that's why I'm Lucy. It's no big deal because I figure its trade off for being and anchor baby. My folks got that stale American dream and I get uh, crumbs off the table. I'm Lucy Delgado."

I stared back at the overly long explanation without word for a few moments.

"Sorry." She apologized again.

"It's lunch time; I'll see you in the office in thirty minutes."

"Yeah, okay uh, sir." Lucy looked nervous folding and unfolding her hands across her chest a number of times.

I watched for a few seconds before walking out of the room digging around in my pocket for my phone.

There was no doubt I was being a dick, but I'd been itching to find out how things were progressing after the mistake I'd made banging Sydney earlier that morning. I found a text from Rashida sent ten minutes before I went on lunch imploring me to tune into Sydney's follow up show, particularly her "Queens Corner" segment. I found my booth in the youth center downstairs clicking on the live in-progress segment.

"No one here is against you Takisha; all we are saying is that perhaps you need to reflect and MOVE on; stop wasting your time on someone who has chosen another. We think it just makes you look...WEAK."

Sydney was sitting there in her secondary outfit consisting of a yellow boohoo crop bomber jacket and matching yellow compression leggings. The jacket was unzipped revealing a red Versace sports bra underneath.

Her signature canary yellow bucket hat was pulled low on her face with her eyes covered by some large black brow bar sunglasses. There was something ominous about her posture. Her overhead mike was pulled lower than usual as she sat stone faced staring at Takisha.

"Wait a minute; I told you what he did Sydney. Told you how he uses women for his own sick pleasure and groomed me; like he uh, gets in your head and next thing you know, you're doing "IT" with him. I thought we were on the same page about this shit. I mean, that's why I'm here, right?"

"No Takisha, no."

"WHAT?!!"

"Sometimes we like to have a guest on who's in desperate need of counseling. You see, most men are decidedly beta these days, but you have a select few who buck the trend; that oh so desirable one percent of all negroes here in the USA Takisha. I don't like calling our Kings an Alpha, but the term just fits and well, I think maybe you were caught off guard because of your own misinformed hubris."

Despite the supposed intent of her words, Sydney sat stone faced while her two cohosts, her former partner in a short lived hip hop duo who went by the name "Finessa" and this dumpy looking housewife Sherry, looked shocked. It felt like Sydney was going off script.

Takisha for her part, sat there on the other side of the studio looking increasingly crestfallen as she spoke. She was wearing a short sleeved white lace blouse and jeans. Her hair was blown out in a wispy looking afro. Takisha looked like a kid next to the older, much more mature Sydney.

"Wait a minute Sydney; we listened to your interview with that nigga; he sounds like another bum ass dusty. That fool was even trying to neg you; did he ask for your number? I heard you had beef with Ken this morning girl."

"No Finessa, we just talked for a few minutes; that's all he was willing to do. I would've loved HAVING him on the show today just to show our audience, and all the viewers the juxtaposition between him and some of the trash ass dusties we've interviewed in the past."

Sydney's head was craned in her friend's direction with an irritated expression on her face.

"Why don't you bring Ken on the show so you two can hug it out then?"

"THAT, IS NOT WHAT WE DO HERE!"

"Chill, we people right, Sydney?"

"Why are you saying that Finessa?" She sounded low key threatening, her voice registering a feminine growl of sorts.

"I'm asking." Finessa replied unbothered.

She was a slim sister decked out in an adidas track suit and ball cap with a do rag underneath. Her fashion read "butch" and she spoke with a smoker's voice. Their dumpy cohost who sort of looked like Kim Fields with an obvious church lady wig, sat nervously smiling intermittently at the camera.

"Well, maybe this uh Educated Simp person, is bad like Takisha says." Sherry interjected drawing Sydney's attention.

"Are you questioning my judgement, Sherry? I mean, you've only been here eight months and that's because Baby Girl is out on maternity leave. You don't understand fully, what we do here Sherry; get back to me when you've got the body of work I have in this industry. Not taking anything away from the housewife struggle you've got going on with Brad, your white husband; maybe you can report on that. That can, be your job."

Throughout the building three-way on-air argument, Takisha was visibly reacting to Sydney starting to show little ticks and flinches. She started looking around sort of glaring probably at the crew filming off camera in the studio. She had come to sully my good name and found something else entirely.