THUNDA - Under New Management Ch. 09

"SHIT!" I sat up in bed with a start looking around the darkened bedroom drenched in sweat. My phone was blinking with a few messages.

"Figures." More than a few were from Takisha presently still dating my cousin Jaquan thinking she was sticking it to me.

The loon was unaware that we'd hashed things out beforehand when she attempted to employ a bit of proxy violence to get revenge on me after getting her ass handed to her in public. I just deleted them noticing some from Rashida which peeked my curiosity in that they were links. I swung my feet over the edge of Charity's former bed switching on my flat screen television mounted on the opposing wall.

"Alright I know its fucked up before I even look." I used my phone casting the video onto the screen finding the Sly & Sydney Morning Show already in progress.

Things looked visually intense with Sly and Ken the Comedian sitting on one side of the studio while Sydney sat on the opposite side glaring at them. She was dressed business casual in a burgundy glossy blouse and a brown knee length skirt that clung to her curves. It was odd positioning as she sat facing the camera half facing away from the men with one leg folded over the other. Some badass calve length heeled boots covered her legs and feet.

"Syd, we good right?" Ken asked sort of hunched over his side of the desk looking concerned.

"Why do you keep asking me that shit; shouldn't you know? I really don't appreciate being bum rushed by the two people I trusted most in life. What, are ratings that low that we need my panties out for public consumption?"

"Naw Sydney Syd, we trying to get up in front of things here cause you already sent out a cease and desist letter, Fed-Ex girl. You coming hard on the fellas down stairs before we even have a chance to hash this stuff out. Ain't nobody against you Syd; we trying to understand what's going on round here. People talking about you getting your back blown out downstairs in the studio. Da' Doobies claiming they got receipts and everything."

"Well why don't you interview them nigga?" Sly and Ken did a doubletake. Her regular partner since the show's inception looked strained, noticeably out of himself.

"Sydney we want the unedited interview played on the show to clear things up."

Sly interjected, his words sounding measured.

"Yeah, if it's like you say it is, we'll help you spit roast all those motherfuckers. Just play the unedited audio."

"No."

"So, you're admitting that it's true?" Sly interjected again.

"I said no."

"To which question?"

"Both." She was wearing a pair of shades staring impassively at his face while he reacted visually looking downward.

"This is not just about you Syd; don't you understand that?"

"I understand that we've been doing this job for a very long time and I thought you had my back. You know, ride, or die on all this bullshit and uh, Ken too. You niggas telling me that you believe some little punk ass wannabe drill rappers over me, right? Did it ever occur to you they might want my spot in the afternoon, huh? Or maybe they wanna be up in here kicking it with you and take your shit over? Yeah you believe Myron who unless I'm mistaken got these hands when he put his on my ass last year at the Christmas bash, right?"

Both men looked at one another then back at Sydney.

"If you're not gonna shut it down, then I will Syd." Sly sounded grievously solemn while Ken looked down at the desk in front of him shuffling some papers.

"What're you talking about?"

"You know you're on a shared plan; I called our provider." Sly produced his phone placing it in front of her.

There was an immediate change in her expression as her eyebrows raised over her shades, then her brow furrowed.

"Listen to me Charles; if you play that recording on this show there will be consequences."

"Syd." Ken tried to intervene verbally.

"Shut the fuck up Ken, you don't have legal papers on me; you didn't take vows like Charles did and promise we'd carve out a new phase of my career when I gave up the business to come to this show. Those dusty niggas downstairs are trying to ruin everything Charles; is that what you want, huh? Play that shit if you don't give a fuck."

"I won't Sydney Wilson."

"Good idea, Charles "Sly" Wilson." She responded coldly.

"I can't do it, but Ken can Syd."

He slid his phone in front of his best friend folding his arms afterwards tucking his chin. Ken picked up the phone in both hands staring wide eyed across the room at Sydney. Her mouth was hanging open in disbelief before she gritted her teeth in rage.

"KEN YOU BET NOT PLAY THAT...!!" It was too late as he activated the recording right under his mounted microphone.

"Negging again?"

"You're welcome to your opinion Sydney; did I answer all of your questions ma'am?"

"Everything except one."

"That being?"

"Are you holding?"

"There's only one way you're going to find out Sydney." Our chairs were heard audibly squeaking cutting up the quality of the audio.

"Are we done here Sydney?"

"Two fingers, huh?"

The unedited audio was damming as Sly and Sydney sat facing one another while Ken looked completely out of character, embarrassed. It only took a few seconds but the audience could hear our tryst and the incessant pounding as I fucked her manically while she screamed loudly referring to me as a King, for all of a few seconds. Ken cut it off when it became apparent she was getting rag dolled and fucked to the extreme.

I sprouted wood. She sat there silently staring a hole in Ken's face for a few moments, then looked Sly dead in the face.

"Happy now?" She asked voice cracking as she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

"No."

Sydney suddenly shot up into a standing position knocking the chair down as she walked out slinging her purse. Her movements were so forceful the chair was flung into the wall behind it.

The screen abruptly cut to a screen saver ironically featuring Sly, Sydney and Ken all hugged up touting "Family" under their logo. The rest of the show on social media was presented in this manner with continuous musical selections starting with "All I Do" played in a loop for three repetitions. I perused the internet already finding a deluge of amateur videos covering the show with a lot of them dragging me sight unseen.

"Aw man, I'm fucked if they find out who I am." I started to dial up Rashida but stopped not wanting a finger wagged in my face.

I got up getting a cup of joe forgoing the usual pound of cream and sugar taking it black as I started mentally working out the red tape of keeping my identity a secret. There was no doubt Rashida would be offended if I shoved a NDA in her face and it would probably damage our friendship a little as well.

Additionally there was nothing stopping Takisha from dropping my cousin's address online because she thought I lived there. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up as I took a shower and cleaned up for work.

I was so rattled, I ended up hopping a train downtown to work earlier than usual eschewing use of the basic car provided by Mr. Gilbert. Parking downtown was decidedly way more expensive than I was willing to pay on a continual basis and sometimes I just need the proximity of other people as I used the elevated trains to travel about the city. I just liked blending into the city being a nondescript face in the crowd.

I picked up a pastry and a cup of orange juice from a liquor store after getting off at my stop walking to my campus job with the intent of catching a brief nap to make up for the time I spent watching my reputation sight unseen go up in smoke again. I caught my foot on an uneven portion of the sidewalk dropping my cup of juice just as I was about to sip, then stood there looking at it entranced.

"Story of my life; get something good then the unexpected happens." I glanced at the pastry in my hand. Before I could take a bite, a fly flitted onto it. I tossed it too breathing heavily pondering the rest of my day.

"Well, nothing can stop me from closing my eyes for a minute."

I soldiered onward intent on getting a brief nap walking in second building on the campus finding the lobby sparsely populated. My school didn't have dorms of their own, rather they rented out from a larger inner city university, itself a satellite institution of a larger entity. The student center was closed about twenty minutes from opening for the day, but I just wanted that cat nap taking the elevator to the second floor where the AV department was located.

"Huh?"

I had my keys out to unlock the door but found it unsecured immediately thinking my coworker left it that way the night prior. There was a lot of expensive equipment there for the taking. I pressed lightly into the door worried there might be somebody in the process of robbing the place.

The interior of our small modular office was pitch black but I made out shapes in the darkness suggesting nothing was missing. I chafed inside knowing I'd have to do an audit of the place already struggling internally whether or not I was snitching on someone. I reached up inside the door for the panel light, but suddenly noticed a slight illumination in the back of the room where we kept a lot of the heavy equipment and hanging cords.

It was light from a phone illuminating the back of someone's head as my heart leapt into my throat.

"You're a shit bird." I paused hearing a female voice. Security was down stairs, some lazy looking brother who took over when his more vigilant crewcut sporting counterpart was unavailable. In short, they were a joke.

"Nobody likes you." It was Lucy, my new coworker and trainee.

Lucy was sequestered at the back of the office behind the rows of hanging cords and equipment facing what I believed was the wall, but actually turned out to be some wooded panel with a mirror attached.

She was so slight I almost missed her there sort of hidden behind everything. She didn't seem aware of my presence this early. Lucy wasn't scheduled on duty until nine in the morning. Lucy was sitting on an empty upturned five gallon bucket.

Lucy wore this chintzy looking white collared t-shirt with rainbow colored stripes horizontally across the rest of the material, a denim thigh length skirt with frayed edges, some dingy, worn athletic socks and pink chucks. I could hear some light mumbling inching inward a bit further in the muted darkness of the AV stock room. It sounded like she was talking to herself under her breath.

"It's gonna be okay as long as you keep it under wraps; nobody's gonna find out what a little shit bird you are; what a stinking little rat you are with no place to lay your head at night. Scraping by on handouts trying to make it that first paycheck. Then maybe, just maybe I'll be okay. Maybe I can get some decent clothes. Then he'll notice."

I was worried in that moment thinking she might be having some sort of crisis, when she suddenly parted her legs wide facing that mirror.

"Just wanna feel something; get what I need down here. I've been waiting for something good to happen to me for once. If only... I'll make it good I promise, I'll do the best I can to make you feel good too. I want it inside me just once. Wanna feel what it's like to be penetrated deep, made a woman instead of playing with it All the time."

Lucy shifted about on the empty five gallon bucket reaching back grabbing handfuls of her skirt tugging it up until I was looking at the back of her panties. They were vintage floral print with a worn looking elastic waistband, sort of frayed with the edges of her buttocks visible spilling out of the sides.

She was short, chunky looking with a wide squarish back. I started to slowly withdraw taking care not to make any noise when Lucy suddenly licked her hand, actually the palm. I was alerted by the audible sticky sound of her tongue. She shifted about a little reaching down.

Lucy started rubbing one out.

I could tell by the positioning of her arms sussing out that she'd tugged her panties aside with one hand while rubbing her virtue in a circular motion with the other. Her breathing was labored and heavy. I was starting to perspire a bit still slowly withdrawing feeling like the worst for intruding on an intimate moment.

"If you make me feel good, I'll show you my secret." I raised a brow.

Lucy sat upright looking down between her legs still rubbing but stopped abruptly peeling the hem of her collared t-shirt up exposing her chest in the mirror. Because of my height and vantage point, I was able to see everything.

Lucy's secret was staggering to the eye as I sprouted wood to the extreme in seconds.

Her entire torso, her upper half was hidden behind her breasts, these gigantic boulders that explained her use of a jacket at all times during work.

These weren't pendulous breasts sagging and deflated. No, Lucy was sporting an awe inspiring set of knockers bigger than two basketballs. For comparison, she dwarfed Tressie Fisher and Shirley "Mintzy" Lozano by one and a half to two sizes. This young twenty something was all tits from the waist up with a staggering cleavage resting freed on the tops of her thighs. A large old fashioned skin toned brassiere struggled to cover her breasts failing miserably.

I knew the undergarment was vintage comparing it to something worn by Mintzy in the past.

It's muted worn look and subtle color matched her slight olive skin tone.

"They're so sensitive and heavy; they hurt because my bra is too small...and my nipples." She continued talking to herself cupping the outsides of her breasts mashing them together creating a monstrous cleavage that made my cock throb and strain against my jeans.

Lucy reached into the deep cleavage line of her brassiere grabbing fistfuls of its material. Her thin fingers disappeared up to the knuckles embedded into the soft looking flesh.

She yanked downward on the brassiere with a quick jerky movement freeing her definitively massive breasts. They bulged outward looking as if they were inflating then flopped horizontally. If it was to be believed, her cleavage started just below her neck as a single line.

If you saw a pic of her tits, you'd think it was an elaborate hoax, probably photoshop.

The secondary story here was the almost plate sized darkened areolas that were ruddy nearly matching my skin tone, or even darker. The center of each contained unbelievable nipples that were nearly big as the tip of my pinky finger for an immediate comparison. The surrounding olive colored light brown flesh made them stand out more.

"They're so ugly, especially with these old lady areolas. I hate my nipples because they're so sensitive." Lucy continued the self-narrative mashing her breasts together a few times before concentrating on her thick nips.

I watched Lucy pinch and distend them quite a bit using three fingers, essentially mauling them for a few moments breathing even heavier. One of her hands went back to pleasuring herself downstairs. She paused long enough to audibly suck on her middle and pointer fingers before presumably inserting them inside her snatch.

"Ah! Feels...so good, but I want a real one inside here." Lucy went at it harder jilling herself off as I managed to make it to the office door in the darkness. I actually ducked down cracking the door open with as much care as I could master compromised by the throbbing steel rod in my pants.

My entire pelvis was seizing up and throbbing with lust from the visual alone as I limped down the empty corridor pushing into the nearest men's bathroom. It felt like I was going to explode especially after I cleared the restroom door hobbling to the furthest urinal which thankfully was partitioned off. I fished out my cock like an addict.

Streams of thick jizz started spewing from the head of my penis the moment it was exposed to the air. I handled myself at the base with one hand on the wall supporting my weight. My inner thighs were pulsing as I shot several ropes into the urinal like silly string. It was over very quickly but felt like it lasted an eternity.

"Fuck." I was shook at the rebellious involuntary behavior of my own body.

It felt dirty, and intrusive.

I lingered at the urinal instinctively going through the mental rolodex of my past sexual conquests. It started with one Erica Walton ending currently with local celebrity Sydney leaving me embroiled in somewhat of an involuntary love triangle of sorts.

This woman was a wild card that caught me on the blindside making me feel dare I say, ashamed for having peeped at her in an intimate moment. Lucy was definitely hiding quite a few secrets I wanted no part of in any respect.

My heart was still thumping as one long strand of jizz protruded slowly from the head of my cock like an errant strand of spaghetti. I gave myself a utilitarian stroke freeing the reluctant web flushing several times afterwards. I was in shock partially unable to look at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands profusely. It was still early in the morning, but the student center was already open for a good forty-five minutes at this point.

"That never happened." I mumbled to my reflection worried that I'd never look at Lucy the same again.

My cock was throbbing and thighs aching as I trudged to the nearest stairwell instead of taking the elevator at the end of the corridor.

I knew I had to walk it off and find a way to smother my artistic sexual proclivities and fight off my unrefined id. Yet, I still found myself trying to figure out her cup size wondering what she looked like naked. The little devil on my shoulder was screaming at me to find a way to finagle Lucy onto my website where she would undoubtedly blow up.

She was having some serious money issues. This was apparent from my shitty eavesdropping.

I knew what it could mean but didn't want to appear as if I were grooming her juxtaposing the obvious scenario with Takisha's recent sullying of me as some womanizer, a Chad, a Tyrone, a fucking Pookie. I'd pounded Sydney out purely out of sexual curiosity and still wanted more of her but resolved that it was a one time deal especially since she was currently in the hot seat publicly.

The memory of her big porous donk wasn't helping matters either in tandem with Lucy's apparent Macromastia.

It felt as if I'd been dosed by some visual Spanish fly necessitating a readjustment of my situation down stairs before walking out into the lobby. After some intense pocket pool I was just barely presentable as I started trudging across the lobby. There was well over forty minutes before I actually had to start work.

Dr. Miles would be shocked when I was there at the timeclock before he arrived.

Still though, I was worried about training Lucy throughout the shift now that I knew she was "holding." I resolved to hash it out in my favorite booth over breakfast while following the developing Sydney drama on my trusty android. Lucy would have to wait.

Fate had other ideas which surprised me little at this point.

"GOOD MORNING!!" She was sitting in my favorite booth on the opposite side of it remembering my preferences.

Lucy was appropriately bundled up in her ratty members only jacket and extra-large work tee as I walked near enough to the table now noticing how her upper half was pretty much pressing into the fixed booth.

She was smiling with a harmless expression on her face as I noticed the cheap paper bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of her. Her half of the table was littered with napkins, open sugar packets and empty butter pats. The bowl was doubled over telling me it was her second. The oatmeal was the cheapest thing on the youth center menu. I waved back.

"Uhm, I'm not trying to invade your space or anything sir; I figured since you were scheduled to come in around eight thirty, I'd kinda sit here because I like the positioning. From here I can look out at the walk in front of the school and people watch; it's kind of my thing, you know? Well, I'll move along so you can have your booth back."