Thousand Dollars a Week Winner

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Thousand Dollars a Week Winner
Gary Ford grunted as lay on the bed in the motel room. This big titty white chick, Jessica, was riding his eight-inch dick. He massaged the enormous 38FF boobs. They bounced around as the raven-haired whore with blue eyes rode his cock vigorously. “Fuck that dick, bitch,” commanded the 44 year-old with six k**s.

“I love this big Black cock,” whined the back room juke joint slut.
“Yeah, hoe! Ride this dick!”
“Yes, daddy!”
“Yo’ pussy wet a fuck on mah big nigga dick, bitch!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Call me yo’ nigga daddy!”
“Yes, Nigger Daddy!”
“Damn, girl!”
“Oh my god, Nigger Daddy! Your big Black cock is so good in my white girl pussy!”
“Oh yeah, bitch!”

Gary’s phone rang for the tenth time.

“Your wife is callin’, Nigger Daddy,” giggled Jessica.
“She be aight,” huffed the six-foot-two, thickset, hunky man.
“Fuck my white pussy!”
“Yeah, hoe!”

Gary had met Jessica Dill about a year ago at Maude’s – a tiny dive bar in the backwoods of South Carolina. It was a place where men could go drink and gamble. Gary liked to play poker there.

Jessica was a waitress at the hole-in-the-wall establishment. She loved Black men and seeing the orange-tinted, dark-skinned man drove her wild. Her pussy had gotten wet. She flirted with him constantly and soon they were fucking even though she was dating the owner of the club, Sheik.

Gary pushed Jessica off of his dick and straddled her. He nutted on her face.

“That was a good fuck,” Gary admitted.
“Thanks, Nigger Daddy!”
“See you later,” he said as he wiped up his dick with a warm, wet washcloth.

The oil change technician left the room and got into his midnight blue 2003 Infiniti QX4 SUV. As he drove home, he called his wife.

“Where the hell you been,” snarled the attractive woman.
“I was out at Maude’s,” he told a half-truth.
“You ain’t spend all yo’ money did you?”
“Naw, baby. I won a couple hunnit.”
“Good! Can you stop and get some apple sauce for the baby?”
“Yeah! I’ll be home in a few.”

Gary stopped off at gas station and went into the store. He grabbed a 4-pack of Mott’s and a six-pack of Old Milwaukee. He walked up the counter and asked the cashier to give him a Cash4Life lottery ticket. He paid in cash and went back to his vehicle. Before pulling out of the parking, he popped open one of the beers.

Gary made it home. It was 10:58 p.m. Everyone was asleep. He set the apple sauce on the counter and put the beer in the fridge. He turned on the TV and downed another can.

Gary had been married to Lanique for three years. She was an LPN. Before their marriage she already had three k**s – Rumi, 13; Brielle, 10; and Cadence, 7. They each had a different father. Lanique was good in bed, but wasn’t always honry like him. Gary got her pregnant and ultimately proposed. Gary’s other five c***dren lived with their various mothers or grandmothers.

He finished a third beer and climbed into the bed. Lanique slept naked. He wrapped his arm around her. She shook it off. Gary rolled over and went to sleep.

The next morning Lanique woke up to get the k**s ready for school and the baby dressed for daycare.

Gary pulled the covers over his head because he had the day off and still wanted to sleep. Finally, he heard the front door of the double-wide manufactured home slam. The k**s were getting on the school bus. A few minutes later, the sound of Lanique’s beige 2014 Toyota Sequoia SUV backing out gave him solace. He dozed off for another hour.

Gary woke up just after 10:00 a.m. He farted and headed into the kitchen to grab a beer. He texted Lanique’s friend, Moonpie.

-U up?
-Come thru.
-OK. 30 min. Cool?

Gary’s dick got hard thinking about Moonpie.

Moonpie and Lanique had been friends canlı bahis şirketleri for years. Moonpie was five-seven and weighed 135 pounds. His ass was filled with medical grade silicone and very jiggly. He had substantially humongous moobs. Moonpie’s skin was high yellow. He kept his head shaved bald and eyebrows arched.

Gary had started fucking the sissy within a couple of weeks of meeting Lanique.

The man drank another beer and poured some brown liquor into a cup. He lit a joint and smoked it.

Moonpie arrived. He took out a pair of red hooker heels and put them on.

“Damn, you sexy,” opined Gary.
“Thank you, daddy!”
“Get on this dick!”

Moonpie followed the order. He sucked Gary’s tool with lots of saliva flowing everywhere. His booty cheeks shook as Gary slapped them repeatedly.

“Look at that muthafucka shake,” savored Gary.
“You like it,” quizzed Moonpie.
“Hell yeah, faggit! You pretty as fuck!”
“Thanks, baby!”
“Let’s go get in yo’ friend’s bed.”

The 32 year-old sashayed to the master bedroom. Gary followed behind stroking his dick. “I’ma fuck the shit outta you.”

“I can’t wait,” said Moonpie in his singsong voice as he crawled on the queen-sized bed.

Gary pounced on the bottom. He shoved his hefty dick in the slut’s hole.

“Owwwwww,” Moonpie cried.
“Take it, gurl!”
“Yes, sir! Oh my god!”
“You know you like fuckin’ yo’ friend’s man.”
“Yes I do, daddy!”
“Give me dat faggit boipussy. Open dat ass up.”
“Oh, Gary! Fuck me!”
“Yeah, bitch!”

Gary pounded Moonpie until about an hour before the k**s got out of school.

He put the sheets in the washing machine and wafted a copious amount of lemon-scented air freshener throughout the house.

When Rumi and his little sisters came home, Gary was sitting on the couch. The TV was tuned to college basketball game. He chugged a beer. “Hey, y’all go on an’ do y’all’s homework,” Gary told them. “Rumi, you wanna make y’all a snack.”

“Sure,” the 13 year-old answered.
“It some Li’l Debbies in there and some ham for sandwiches.”

Rumi pulled three paper plates from the cabinet. He prepared half sandwiches with ham and American cheese. He put an oatmeal creme pie on each plate. He was startled when he saw Gary towering over him.

“Want some chips,” Gary asked.
“Here,” the stepdad handed him a can of Pringles.
“Thank you!”
“It’s a lottery drawin’ tonight.”
“Good luck!”
“If I win, you gon’ run away wit’ me.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Dat’s wassup,” he smacked Rumi’s butt and went back to the living room.

Lanique got home around 5:30. She had the baby with her. She went into the kitchen and started a pot of water to boil the pasta. She went into the master bathroom and took a very brief shower. She came back out wearing a cotton pajama set with a light blue knit top and plaid pants.

Lanique put the dried noodles in the pot and added some salt. She pulled out a bag of frozen carrots and peas. She steamed them in the microwave. She threw some pre-cooked bacon into a frying pan to heat it up. She chopped it up. Lanique strained the pasta and mixed into the pan with the bacon and veggies. She poured in a jar of alfredo sauce. “Dinner’s ready,” she yelled.

Everyone ate in peace. Gary still sat on the couch kind of numb.

At 8:59 p.m., Gary turned the TV to a local station. The winning numbers were about to be drawn.

The white woman toggled the machines one-by-one. Gary could not believe it. He had just won a thousand dollars a week for life. He said nothing because he didn’t want to share any of it with Lanique’s greedy ass. He got online and started looking at options.

After an hour, he called an old friend, Antwan.
“Sup,” the kingpin said in a gruff voice.
“Shit, nigga,” Gary beamed. “Whatchu up to?”
“Got canlı kaçak iddaa me a li’l young sissy suckin’ mah dick!”
“Ah shit!”
“Say, ‘hi’,” the excon instructed the k**.
“Hi there,” a honeyed voice called out.
“Damn,” Gary opined.
“Yeah. He snuck out da house. Li’l 14 year-old nigga.”
“Dat’s wassup. Let me ask a favor real quick.”
“Anything, Blood.”
“I just won dis Cash4Life thousand a week for life.”
“You lyin’, nigga?”
“Naw, mane. I’m fah real.”
“Dat’s hot yo!”
“Yeah! So can I get a loan of three G’s? I’ll pay you back over 8 weeks if dat cool.”
“Yeah. When you need it?”
“You good people. Come thru.”
“Gimme an hour.”

Gary hung up and walked into the bedroom shared by Rumi and the baby.

“Wake up, Rumi,” the 44 year-old man shook the bed..

Rumi Goins yawned as he was jolted from his slumber. “Huh,” he yawned again. His stepfather was standing over his twin bed. “I’m still sleepy, Gary.”

“You can sleep in the car,” Gary Ford informed the eighth grader.
“Pack you a few clothes. I won da lottery.”
“Really,” Rumi sat up.
“Yeah! Hurry!”

Rumi rummaged through his drawers. He threw a handful of his cotton bikini brief undies, a few T-shirts, two sweaters, and some socks into a gray duffle bag.

Gary came back carrying a backpack that had a few essentials.

They got into his SUV and drove over to Antwan’s place.

Antwan was upstairs in his bedroom balls deep in the cute, chocolate sissy at this point. “Take mad dick,” he growled.
“Yes, sir,” whined the delicate bottom.
“You be sneakin’ out fah dis dick, li’l faggit! You my slut!”
“I love when you fuck me, nigga!”
“I love fuckin’ yo’ young ass.”
“Give it to me, Twan!”
“Yeah, pussyboi faggit! Take dis dick in dat big fake booty I bought you.”
“Fuck me harder!”
“You bet not tell on me. I love m*****in’ yo’ punk ass, fag!”
“Yes, daddy. I’m your little sissy bitch!”

Antwan’s home was a little two-story 1,000 square-foot house that had been purchased and built from a Sears Roebuck catalog by the original owners decades ago. It was a tiny wing-and-gable-style farmhouse with two generously sized bedrooms and a cramped bathroom upstairs.

Gary turned off the headlights. He saw the thin-framed youngin with the juicy booty exiting the house. “Look like Twan fucked the shit outta that boi,” he laughed.

“Just like you’re gonna fuck me,” purred Rumi.
“Hell yeah!”

Gary collected the cash from his friend. He started driving. He stopped off a big box retail store and purchased a Chromebook.

At 9:00 a.m., he was at an RV dealership. He negotiated with a white man wearing a orange-ish toupee. Gary chuckled to himself thinking the man was a Donald-Trump-wannabe. He gave the old timer $500 and traded his SUV for a dingy looking 1977 GMC Mobile Scout Rally Master 23A camper van. It had a propane fueled for burner cooktop and over plus a microwave. There was also a lounge chair, a bathroom with toilet and shower, and a fold-up bed that could double as a couch. There was also a small table for eating and decent storage.

Gary started the vehicle. It was loud and drove like a tank.

“Do you like dis RV,” Gary inquired.
“It smells kinda funny.”
“Yeah. I’ma stop and get some Febreeze. It’s our new home.”
“Oh cool!”
“Yeah! I’ma get some cleanin’ supplies and you can wipe it up back there. Then I’ma fuck yo’ ass!”

Gary found a dollar store. He purchased dish detergent, sponges, washcloths, a bucket, seven gallons of spring water, all-purpose cleaner, liquid toilet bowl cleaner, and a couple Airwick fresh-water-scented air fresheners. He also grabbed some food items – three packs of chocolate sugar wafer cookies, flaming hot crunchy Cheetos, a bag of oyster crackers, canned black beans & canned tomato-okra-and-corn canlı kaçak bahis mixture, chicken broth, frozen microwavable turnover (pepperoni pizza and ham & cheese variety), Pringles, orange soda. He stopped along another aisle and added two pots, two saucepans, and various other kitchen utensils to the cart. Rumi followed along.

Nearing the checkout, a plum-skinned man wearing a durag and a bright yellow high-visibility safety vest and steel-toe rain boots looked at the pair knowingly. He gave a head nod. Gary returned the gesture. “You stockin’ up, mane!”

“Yeah! Goin’ on a road trip,” Gary shared.
“You an’ dat boi?”
“Dat shit cool as hell! I got me one too.”
“Yeah. He eleven. In school right now. I wanna rip his butt hole so hard right now.”
“I’m finna home school this punk.”
“I ain’t mad at ya,” the guy disappeared down the aisle.

Gary handed the cashier the money. They got back in the camper van. “Go on an’ start cleanin’. I’ma stop and get some sheets an’ shit.”

Gary spotted a big box retail store. He parked and went inside. He bought a set of Jerzee sheets, a case of beer, a styrofoam cooler, and bagged ice. He also selected two prepaid Android smartphones.

He came back to the camper van. Rumi was working hard at cleaning up the vehicle.

“Smell a lot better in here,” remarked Gary.
“Thank you!”
“Put summa dis ice in dat cooler and the beer too. Grab you one.”

Rumi complied with the instructions. He cracked open a beer and began to drink it.

There were signs indicating that a campground with RV hookups was a few miles ahead. By this time, Rumi gotten the place spic-and-span clean. Gary navigated to the place where he planned to park. He called Lanique and left a voicemail, “Me and Rumi takin’ a trip. Don’t call me!”

He tossed his other phone out the window and kept driving.

He spoke with the attendant and paid the fee. He parked in the spot assigned to him.

“You ready for this dick,” asked Gary.
“Yes, sir,” Rumi gleamed.

Rumi undressed and got on his knees and sucked the older man’s cock as he sat in the lounge chair.

“Dammit, Rumi! Dat shit feel good,” Gary remarked.

Gary spanked Rumi’s adorable bubble butt. He admired the boi’s mocha colored skin with bronze undertones. “Damn! I need to fuck you!”

Gary tossed Rumi’s barely five-foot-three, 100-pound frame onto the bed.

Rumi wiggled his ass.

“Dammit, boi! I finna tear dat boipussy up!”
“Ooh, daddy,” cried Rumi.

Gary mounted Rumi and pinned him down. “Take dis dick, bitch!”
“Fuck me,” Rumi cried.
“Take stepdaddy dick!”
“Yes, stepdaddy! Fuck me!”
“Squeeze dat young, feminine ass on dis big grown man dick!”
“Yes, sir! Fuck my boipussy!”
“You know you got betta pussy den yo’ momma!”
“Hell yeah, punk! Yo’ faggit ass perfect!”
“Oh my god!”
“You a good, obedient li’l stepson. Stepdaddy love fuckin’ you!”
“I love your big grown man dick!”
“I’m all up in dis li’l sissy faggit ass! Just like prison!”
“Yes, sir,” screamed Rumi.

Gary nutted.

Afterwards, he explained to Rumi that they would register him for online school in the morning. Gary advised him that he would buy an RV satellite for internet and TV after they did that. Then, they would drive around every week finding a new spot to stay and fuck like a****ls.

Meanwhile, the construction worker from the dollar store was in bed with his juvenile girlyboi.

“Ooh, Birk! Your dick is so good,” hollered the sixth grader.
“Take mah dick, faggit,” barked the man.
“It’s so good!”
“Hell yeah! You bet not act up no mo’ at school.”
“I won’t, stepdaddy!”
“You bet not, faggit! You do an’ I’ma whoop yo’ ass!”
“Oh my god,” whined the four-foot-eight, caramel-skinned bottom.
“I was thinkin’ bout you all day, baby boi!”
“Really, stepdaddy?”
“I seen dis nigga wit’ a sissy ass youngin. I knew he was fuckin’ dat bitch!”
“Oh, daddy!”
“Just like I be fuckin’ you when yo momma gone! Take dis dick!”
“Fuck me!”

Birk came hard and collapsed. The middle schooler lay there in delight.

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