Nude Awakening (11 page)

Kandi reached up to play in her pussy as Trevon turned her world out. Each time he poured his nine inches into her, she squealed. His huge dick stretched her wide open.

Jurnee felt caught up. She was horny as hell. She could not remove her eyes from the sight. Trevon’s dick slid in and out of Kandi’s ass like a piston. She felt her own pussy beginning to throb and get moist.

Kandi’s ass was tight around his plunging dick. Everyone was on edge. Trevon reached down and fumbled at pulling the condom off as he eased out of her ass. His sudden exit left her ass gaping open. Still on his feet, he managed to remove the rubber only seconds before his explosive burst. His fist-clenching climax shot into her asshole. He shivered as he jacked himself off against her tooted up ass. His cum slid into her ass, down her back, over her ass and some over her pussy.

“And cut!” the director yelled.

FIFTEEN

September 10, 2011

Saturday, 9:18 a.m. - Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Swagga moaned in his sleep. Opening his tired eyes, he found the Asian bartender kneeling over him rubbing his dick. He quickly thought back to last night.

Bitch wanted to make a nigga beg last night. All I could get was a handjob and now she all on me. Yeah, suck it hoe. Damn, I done forgot her fuckin’ name.

Swagga slid his hands under his head as his Asian treat pumped his long organ with two small hands.

“Suck it slow for me,” he moaned. “Yeahhhh. Lick it, too.”

Yaffa was down on the first floor eating breakfast in the kitchen. He hated when Swagga would bring strange women to the crib. Yaffa trusted no one! A female could pull a trigger just as quickly as a man. At least the bartender was sexy; Yaffa had to give her credit. He stayed up late and watched Swagga fail at getting some pussy. He assumed the chick had bounced last night until he saw her car still in the driveway. After he ate his breakfast, he took the elevator up to the second floor.

Swagga’s oversized master bedroom was at the end of the hall. Yaffa was the only person other than Swagga who knew the security codes to the mansion. Reaching the closed bedroom door, he walked right inside without knocking. He never knocked and Swagga knew not to lock the doors for his own safety. Yaffa was two steps in the bedroom when he came to a halt. The topless bartender lay aside Swagga sucking the hell out of his dick. Swagga moaned like a bitch with his eyes closed pulling at the sheets. Yaffa shook his head then eased back out. Before he closed the door, he thought of something. Just in case this bitch try to yell rape or some grimy shit, I’ll just film a few seconds to prove the bitch was willing. Pulling out his cell phone, he pulled up the video recorder app, then aimed the camera toward Swagga and his guest. He recorded for thirty seconds, then left them alone.

Swagga had not seen Yaffa either time. He was still thrusting his dick upward into the bartender’s mouth. The head was the best he ever had!

“Oooohhh, fuck! You suckin’ it soooo good, ma-!” he groaned. Up and down he gazed at the pink thin lips racing along his dick. “Swallow it, yo! Eat it all up! I’m cummin’!”

Swagga’s ass and hips lurched up off the bed as he started to cum. Soft fingers went to his balls to tumble them. Swagga ran his fingers through the soft fine black hair that brushed against his throbbing dick.

“Good morning,” the bartender said in a soft intimate tone.

Swagga slid his hand down to rub the small grapefruit sized breasts with oversized brown nipples.

“You enjoy?”

“Hell, yeah!” Swagga replied, hoping she was ready to fuck.

The bartender pushed her hair back then sat up.

“What you grinnin’ about?” he asked, sliding his thumb over her nipple.

“Nothing.”

“Yo, don’t feel bad. But ummm, I forgot your name.” He sat up grinning.

“My—name isn’t what I told you last night.”

“Say what?”

“My name is Chyna. I’m Cindy’s friend.”

Swagga’s mouth fell open. Before he could stop himself, he blanked all the way out.

Yaffa was entering his bedroom when he heard shouting. At first, he thought it was Swagga blasting music. Stepping back into the hall, he stood and listened. Again, he heard Swagga yelling and cursing. A glass shattered, followed by a high-pitched scream.

“Oh shit!” Yaffa took off running, pulling out his .45 in case it was needed. He bolted up the stairs wishing he were a few pounds lighter. Reaching the top floor, he heard Swagga shouting at the top of his lungs. Coming up on Swagga’s bedroom, he found the two. Swagga stood over the bartender, punching and kicking. Yaffa slid his gun back in his waistline then rushed Swagga.

“Get the fuck offa me!” Swagga yelled as Yaffa pulled him back in a tight bear hug. “Let me go! I’ma kill that muthafucka!”

“Calm down, nigga!” Yaffa shouted. He handled Swagga back into his bedroom as Chyna fled past them.

Swagga tried to break free, but it was hopeless. “Let me go!”

“Nigga, chill! What the fuck you beatin’ on that bitch fo’?”

“Man! That muthafucka a . . .” Swagga caught himself.

“What she do? You caught her stealin’? What the ho do?” Yaffa released him.

Swagga spun around and grilled Yaffa. I can take his gun and go murder that trick ass ho right now! Damn! That bitch tricked me! Man, this shit get out and my name is trash. Think nigga, think! Hell, even Yaffa think it’s a bitch. Shit! He, she—a man. Damn!

“What the fuck is goin’ on, dawg?” Yaffa pressed.

Swagga flopped down on the bed, hanging his head. I can’t tell NOBODY about this! Not even Yaffa. I trust ‘im wit’ my life, but not this. Swagga raked his fingers through his dreads then snapped his head up to whip his dreads back. “I’m good, yo.”

“The fuck you ain’t.” Yaffa pointed toward the hall. “Look what you did to her. You know damn well she gonna press charges on you.”

“Naw . . . she ain’t,” Swagga forced himself to say.

“And why the fuck she ain’t?”

“‘Cause she just ain’t, gotdamnit!” Swagga shouted. “This shit is personal, yo. My life ain’t in no jeopardy, so fall back!”

Swagga looked back over his shoulder. Chyna limped back into the bedroom holding her ribs. She sat down slowly onto the bed, still topless with a pair of yellow boy shorts on.

“You okay, shorty?” Yaffa asked.

“I said she—”

“Chill, nigga!” Yaffa turned to face Swagga. “I’m talkin’ to her, not you!”

Swagga took a step back. Your dumb ass is a fool too! But that faggot . . .

“You okay, shorty?” Yaffa asked again.

“I’m fine.” Chyna nodded. “We just had a small misunderstanding. I won’t call the police or anything.”

“See! Told you so!” Swagga jumped in.

Yaffa rubbed his face and looked at Swagga. “Don’t expect me to pull you outta this bullshit!”

“Chill, nigga. All it was, was just a small misunderstandin’ like she said. Shit good up here.” Swagga turned toward Chyna when Yaffa walked out slamming the door.

“I didn’t mean to trick you,” Chyna whispered. “I really mean it.”

“Just shut the fuck up! Sit there and just shut up!” Swagga paced the floor with his hands balled in a fist. Okay. I got money. Money can solve anything. The bitch must want something since she ain’t callin’ the police.

“Why you ain’t callin’ the police?” He stood above her with his arms crossed.

“Because I know you have a lot to lose.”

“Yeah, I do! And you got a lot to lose—like your fuckin’ life!”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

“Bitch please! Yo, hold the fuck up! How the fuck did you call me when I was at the bar with you? Explain that since you ain’t fuckin’ plan for this shit to happen!”

“It was a friend of mine that sounds like me.”

“She know you’re here?”

“No.”

“Cindy got anything to do wit’ this bullshit?”

“No. And please don’t tell her I did this.”

“Fuck!” Swagga kicked the air.

Chyna looked up at Swagga. “Just help me out and what happened here will not leave this room.”

“You tryin’ to blackmail me! Fuck around and you might not be leavin’ this bedroom!” Swagga shouted then lowered his voice.

“How much do you want to keep shit quiet?”

Chyna looked at her feet. “I want you to pay for the rest of my operation.”

“Huh? What operation? Cindy said . . . hell, you said you had a—”

“I still have—a penis.”

Swagga closed his eyes. “Ain’t. No. Fuckin’ way!”

Chyna was still physically a man. The voice was feminine, the Adams apple was shaved down, the breasts were soft. Hips and waist were curvy and female-like, but Chyna was still cuffing a dick and a pair of balls.

Swagga was glad he did not have a gun. This—nigga! Muthafucka fooled me! Shit, I might as well push his ass on Trevon. Only he’ll be exposed for fuckin’ with this—faggot ass Kung Fu fucker! Okay, this here will be my secret.

Swagga looked at this issue as a small bump in the road. He still wanted to be with Kandi. Ain’t a damn thang changed! Trevon, I got a surprise comin’ for your He-Man lookin’ ass!

Swagga calmed down then told Chyna the deal. Chyna had no choice but to listen. All he had to do was to trick Trevon as he had done with Swagga.

Swagga said he wanted it on film.

“Freak him. You pull it off, I’ll pay you double on top of the bread for . . .” He paused. “Your operation. And yo, don’t tell nobody about what happened between us! Nobody!”

Chyna promised him. Promised him that he would do what he wanted.

Opa Locka, Florida

Trevon was back on the set and in front of the camera by 7 p.m.

Today, the director wanted to film him fucking Kandi in various positions. The mental connection between Trevon and Kandi was shown without words. At one point, he slowly fucked her with her ass halfway off the bed as he held her ankles up high, and pounded his dick in and out of her gushy pussy. The director yelled cut, but Kandi whined, “Don’t stop!” Trevon kept pumping, long dicking her with

sweat coating his muscular frame. Kandi later told everyone that she was so sorry for the slight delay. Everyone understood, including Janelle and Jurnee.

It took them five different takes to film the shower scene. Trevon fell into his role and became at ease with fucking in front of other people. His trick was easy. He kept his attention on Kandi.

A surprise occurred during a break in the filming. Trevon noticed the wife that owned the house had been chatting with Janelle for a while. He was lounging on the sofa in a robe, drinking an energy drink, when Janelle came to sit with him. Trevon listened as Janelle laid a small proposition on him. She told him that the wife was willing to cut the rent fee by ten percent if she could be with him.

“Be with me how?” He glanced over at the attractive older lady.

“She—wants to have sex with you.”

“Ain’t she married?”

“Her husband is okay with it. So, will you do it?”

“You serious?”

She nodded yes.

Trevon finished his drink then told Janelle he would do it.

The filming did not end until 11:38 p.m. Kandi had worn Trevon out and she had to admit that her pussy was sore. After everyone left with the production crew, Janelle introduced Trevon to Mrs. Linda Rorie, who acted star struck when Trevon spoke to her. All she could do was shy away and cover her face. She looked good to be fifty-six years old.

Janelle pulled Trevon to the corner before leaving the bedroom. “Take it easy on the woman, okay? Don’t kill her with that thang. I’ll be in the den.”

Trevon’s ego soared through the roof. Yes, he was willing to fuck Mrs. Rorie, so he wasted no time in getting down to business. They were alone in her bedroom with no rolling film. He undressed her slowly, intending to go slow and be tender, but she had other plans.

When she pulled her wet panties off, her shyness came off as well. He sensed she was a bit self-conscious of her sagging breasts, but he went ahead and sucked on them. She had a nice round ass, but had no hips. No longer shy, her hand slid inside his robe to rub between his legs.

“No need for the tender soft stuff,” she said, looking at the biggest dick she had seen in years. “I would like for you to fuck me.”

Trevon was speechless when she eased down on her knees. To his surprise, she had his toes curling in the shag carpet. She was unable to swallow him whole, but Trevon gave up no complaints as she slowly flicked her tongue around his swollen tip. This was cougar loving at its best.

Janelle looked at her watch. It was 12:14 a.m. and Trevon was still in the bedroom fucking Mrs. Rorie. She could hear the constant, genuine moans and the headboard thumping into the wall. Damn! I told him to fuck her, not make love! She smirked. Getting up from the sofa, she tiptoed back to the bedroom and peeked in. Trevon was throwing dick to her doggy style, going balls deep.

Trevon did not ease into his bed until 2:20 a.m. He was so tired that he slid under the sheets, wet from his shower. Kandi was in her bed knocked out to the world. What a day! That old lady. Damn, that pussy was good!

Trevon rolled to his back and fell asleep. This was day number two of his new life as a male adult-film actor. He recalled what Jurnee had told him when they first met. It was not all about fucking. That damn director wanted everything to be perfect. Trevon went to sleep with the director’s voice ringing in his head.

“Cut! Kandi, you’re sucking his dick too slow!”

“Cut! Trevon, long stroke her!”

“Cut! Grab her titties! Both of them!”

“Cut! Kandi, make your ass bounce more!”

“Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!”

At the same time, Swagga was out riding around smoking Kush in his charcoal gray Chrysler 300. The 300 allowed him to keep a low profile. He had snuck out without waking Yaffa. Swagga had the world pushing down on his shoulders. The bullshit with Chyna was too much to deal with. He tried to build up a deep hatred toward Chyna, but he failed. Any thoughts of Chyna made his dick hard.

“Dis bullshit!” He punched the steering wheel, angry at himself. Inhaling the Kush, he drove with the light traffic in silence.

All because of Trevon fucking my bitch! And Chyna. Muthafuckin’ he-she. Titty, ass, dick swingin’, chop-chop rice. Damn, dis Kush got me trippin’ fo’ fuckin’ real! Swagga laughed at himself. “Damn, I’m high as hell.”

Feeling the need to assure himself, to assure his manhood, he headed for Cindy’s condo.

“I ain’t fuckin’ gay!” he said. “Bitch just tricked a nigga, that’s all!”

Swagga made it to Fisher Island without being pulled over by the police. Parking his car, he strolled to the elevator and rode it up to the thirtieth floor. He had a key so he did not have to knock.

Cindy woke up scared when she heard the front door close. Filled with fear, she reached under the mattress and wrapped her hand around her .380. She now regretted having slept in the nude and eased from the bed with her heart pounding. Just as she reached down to lock the door, Swagga called her name. Her body relaxed. She tossed the gun on the bed, then walked out of her bedroom rubbing her eyes and yawning. Cindy stepped into the den.