Cheers

Her beating heart pounded loudly in Vanessa's ears, obscuring thought, sound, everything. She knew, though, that she had messed up. Everyone would be watching, eyes on her, looking at her. She... the cheer... she couldn't bear to see the crowd, the faces. The voices came from very far away.

"Vanessa? Ms. Lockley? Are you...?"

"I thought black types, the athletic types like her, were supposed to be coordinated. Guess she's a little top heavy. Bottom heavy too." A chuckle. Familiar. A laugh that made her scared, and hateful.

"Oh for god's sake... I told you, Vanessa. ...'Nessa! Stop laying about."

"Vah-Nessa!"

Nigger...

Vanessa bolted upright.

Who said that?! Her eyes focused. "Who said that?" Her heart pounded in her chest, and something flopped, unbalanced.

She found herself staring into reality. The face of her daughter's erstwhile boyfriend. James. His mouth was agape.

He wasn't staring back at Vanessa.

Not exactly.

Not... at her face.

"For fucks sake, Vanessa! Band-Aids are not a covering! You have a guest here! Remember?"

A guest... Vanessa followed James' eyes, down. Oh, oh god! Her...!

One of Vanessa's large breasts was bared, having slipped completely out of the bottom of her too-small sequined crop top. Brand and Carter's plan for her entrance, Vanessa's asinine little cheer...

It had already been humiliating, degrading, and wholly inappropriate. All that... but never in Vanessa's dreams had she considered that she'd be thwarted by the cartwheel - a goddamn cartwheel! Everything else had been a concern when Brand laid out her entrance. That had just been incidental, a worry only for the display of her dark legs flying through the air, her short skirt flipping up. The cartwheel itself... She could do cartwheels in her sleep.

Twenty... twenty five years ago. But still! She had been doing flips and pyramids and baskets and... and she was still fit, still pretty limber, and it was a stupid cartwheel!

And while she poked and mashed desperately, her spilled tit flesh refused to get back into place, slipping through her fingers like it was alive. She stuffed and stuffed right in front of everyone. Carter and Brand looked equally amused, James looked... Jesus! James!

The young man finally looked into her eyes... and then back down at her hands, her naked brown tit, and back up again. Vanessa realized her mouth was as gaping as his was, slack and staring and stupid while she stuffed and stuffed, painfully jamming her mammary back into its relative concealment.

Something between Vanessa's legs squished. No... no not now. Seriously, she couldn't be... she had just c-cleaned down there. Wiped herself, wiped her panties... wiped Elly's panties. Her contrary boob finally settled into place, poking out just a bit, but James' eyes... they...

"That's... you're dressed in Elly's..." James had a new target to linger over. He stared openly at Vanessa's hairy crotch, poking out from her skirt.

Did he just sniff the air?

"Yes, Elaine's old cheerleading uniform! She insisted on wearing it. Did you know that Vanessa used to be a cheerleader too? She's been dying to show off, though why she picked a time when she knew you were coming over is anyone's guess." Brand shook his head in mock despair.

"No, I, uh," James wasn't looking at Vanessa's uniform. "I mean, yeah, I did know that Miss... that Vanessa used to be a cheerleader. Elly said..." He trailed off, "That's Elly's." He said, a little stronger. The article of clothing he was looking at was set lower than her top or her skirt. He was staring straight at... Vanessa closed her legs. And even so she knew... even from her angle she could still see her thick thatch of pubic hairs poking out obscenely. The eyeful James must have gotten, her lips, her still-wedgied panties...

"Yes... that's all she's been talking about. You, Elly... you." The bigger man clasped James' shoulder affectionately, and turned, barking a, "Stand up, Nessie!"

Vanessa snapped-to, flinched, and quickly scrambled to her feet under Brand's order.

"What was that? Was that a cartwheel? Or..." He shook his head. Vanessa didn't have an answer, not one that made sense with him turning her failed performance around on her. He turned. "Do you know what that was, Carter?"

Carter wiped his smile away as James tore his eyes away from Vanessa, his youthful face dazed, searching for some kind of explanation for his increasingly upturned world.

"No idea." Carter's voice was as sober as Vanessa had ever heard, "Last I heard the mon-, ah, your friend was lookin' to make an entrance, said she had somethin' all set up. Didn't expect that, though." He shrugged.

Brand sighed, and shook his head. "It's been like this," He confided in the confused younger man, "She's not what she seems on the surface, is she?"

"I've... I've never... I don't..." James seemed almost in shock, beset on all sides by a reality that was simply beyond any expectation he might have ever had in entering the house of his distant, drifting girlfriend.

"Vanessa, get the young man a beer." A beer. For James. Vanessa had a flashback of a night, maybe a year ago or a year and a half, waiting up... late, so late. Overwhelmed with work, tired from the day, knowing that she would have to get up the next day. But for her only child, her daughter, she waited, and fumed, and when James and Elly snuck in the house, clearly tipsy - James having driven them both while clearly tipsy, Vanessa let loose. All her anger, all her frustrations with work, unleashed on the two. Mostly on James. It was as harsh as she had ever been with the boy.

She met James' eyes, and dropped her own. She wondered if he was thinking about the same night. He certainly hadn't ever brought Elly home drunk again, or talked about drinking in front of her. She nodded, and turned. A beer.

Behind her, Brand started talking. Male talk. "I work with Vanessa, did you know that? She always seemed so put together. You know what I mean?" She couldn't see, but could somehow *feel* James, knowing him like she did... she knew he was nodding, dumbfounded, behind her. "Well, imagine my surprise when..." Male talk, boy talk, about her - with her right there.

Yes, his girlfriend's mother always had been 'put together' before, stern and tough and sometimes disapproving. Now he would get an alternate version of Vanessa. Brand would tell James, was telling him, what a slut she was - and what he meant, really, was what a nigger she was.

Vanessa kept her head down, closed her ears, and scooted her chocolate ass off to the kitchen.

The ebony mother took a deep breath. She carefully bit her palm in her teeth, the meaty area where her thumb connected to the rest of her hand. She bit, and sealed her lips, and quietly screamed into it. She leaned her backside against a counter, and felt its cool, hard surface on her partially-revealed asscheeks. The back of her head lightly, silently, hit the cupboard behind her. Over and over, rattling her clenched teeth as more conversation, muffled by the distance, vibrated in her ears.

"Stop bangin' around in here, slut." Vanessa froze. Her hand still in her mouth, her eyes opened, and looked to the side. Carter followed her in. He was looking at her. "Show me your monkey hole."

Her... 'monkey hole'. In seconds, he...

She... supposed she knew what that was supposed to be. Her monkey hole.

Vanessa stopped hitting her head, and took her hand out of her mouth. She turned, and fidgeted with her shortened cheerleader skirt. She looked at Carter's face.

He despised her. Completely. She could see it in his hard brown eyes, behind his offset nose. The uneducated lout looked down on her like... she really was less than human to him. An ape, or a monkey, with a fat, hairy...

Vanessa lifted up her skirt, and showed off the fat, hairy organ that made her so very contemptible. She suppressed her instincts, and made no move to defend the sensitive area when he reached out and gripped it hard in one hand - knuckling the middle with his index finger and pinching her lips with his thumb and middle.

In the other room, Brand laughed loudly at something James said. She heard a more uncertain laugh in response, as James tried to share in the humor of whatever incidental joke he had made.

"Me and Brand worked hard on that cheer. You fucked it up on purpose, didn'cha?" He tugged painfully on her outer labia, pulling it down around her panties, twisting. Vanessa shuddered in pain. Pain and, and... she gritted her teeth against the awful sensation, but didn't close her legs or move away. She let go of her skirt and grabbed the counter behind her, and squeezed.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered. She hadn't messed it up on purpose, though. "I tried, I didn't sabotage my cheer. N-not on purpose." She... she had tried, and really bumped her head during the first cartwheel, really seen stars and lost track of her hellish existence for a brief, blessed moment.

"Hmph. I might almost believe you. You're a bit of a stupid cunt. Clumsy for a nigger, aren't you?"

"Yes, Uncle Carter." Vanessa nodded, and sucked in a pained breath through her clean white teeth, "I'm telling the truth. I'm very clumsy. Very - very stupid, too. Please..." She squirmed her broad black ass, trying to shift the intense pain and discomfort in having her groin pulled and twisted. It was harder and harder to keep her voice low, so that James wouldn't hear.

"You need some encouragement to perform? Maybe Mister Fluffy can help you. Or we can just show what you are with one of your little videos, while you sit nice and wag your ass like a bitch."

"N-no!" Her voice was quiet, but fierce. Some of the videos of her... and Carter would pick the worst, and... "I'm sorry, Sir," Her neck strained, tightening, pulling so hard her breasts raised with it. She started to sweat out the pain as he pulled, unrelenting, "I'll do better. I'll be good. I'll be good for James, like you and D-Daddy said I should be. Just like you said."

"Just like you were told." Carter let go of Vanessa's vagina, but any sense of relief she got from the end of his on her hairy nethers was short lived as he slid his hands under and into her skin-tight top, and deliberately thumbed the bandages that covered her injured nipples.

"Yes. Please, Sir. Let me make up for... for Elly." Vanessa looked up earnestly into Carter's eyes. Words, regurgitated words from Brand or Carter - Vanessa didn't really remember, or want to - spilled from her mouth, "I'll do what a nigger momma should for a young man, when her daughter is a slut." She touched Carter's half-hard penis, through his pants, and tugged.

She felt sick.

"Get the fucking beers." His voice was more raspy, but his eyes remained as hard as ever. He made space for her.

Vanessa, with a little extra pain, extracted her breasts from Carter's hands, adjusted her top, and got the beers. The bottles clinked in her hands. The inappropriately underdressed ebony mother felt an itch between her shoulder blades while she opened them, one after another.

"Flavor them."

What? Vanessa turned.

"Peach. Flavor." Carter's voice was tight and hard. He gestured toward...

"Dark peach."

N-no...

"Yes, Uncle Carter." From a faraway place, Vanessa felt her mouth move. Her voice was a whisper, quiet and broken.

She picked up a beer. She lifted her skirt.

The ebony mother licked her face lips. She looked down. She touched the beer bottle to her panty-parted pussy lips and ran the smooth, open glass bottle back... then forth, slickening the top under Carter's watchful gaze.

"What are you, a prissy little girl?" Carter's voice dripped with disdain. "Bet your tight little slut daughter would know what to do with those."

"Pull your panties aside and show me you can take it deeper than she would."

Vanessa opened her mouth. To say something about her task. About - god would he just stop talking her poor daughter?! Elly hadn't... and wouldn't...

None of that would help. Saying any of it, any protest would hurt. Hurt, almost definitely, literally; in so many ways. She shut her mouth. She reached down, between her thighs. One dark hand extracted the wet, slim gusset of her daughter's panties from deep in her feminine folds, and tugged it aside. Bending forward awkwardly, Vanessa spread her legs.

Keeping the full bottle upright was a bit of a trick. But Vanessa managed to find her hole.

She found her hole and slowly... she pushed. Recently out of the refrigerator it was cold, and hard, and smooth, and it slid in the wet space between her legs easily. The long, slim neck disappeared. Inside her.

Vanessa felt the wide shoulder of the bottle, where it flared, so... so cold against her lips. She didn't...

She didn't stop. Not when she could feel Carter's disgusting assessment of her daughter still haunting her ears. She was the nigger. Not Elly. She didn't want to hear one more taunt, not one more degrading thing said about her girl for however long she could avoid it. She stretched, painfully stretched her hole over the shoulder. She, "Uhn," she twisted it a little, and took its full width. Then more. In front of her male audience she twisted the bottle in. Back and forth, and in.

Carter laughed.

"Goddamn, nigger! You tryin' to stick l the whole bottle in your cunt?"

Vanessa stopped. She closed her thighs a bit, grunted, and -

"I asked you a question. All the time you're avoidin' your questions."

Vanessa swallowed, and felt a bit of smooth glass slide out of her. The question had been so stupid, it... it should have been rhetorical.

"I don't like that."

It was humiliating. It was humiliating when he asked it. It would be even more humiliating to legitimize it with an answer.

That was the point. She really was slow.

"I'm sorry Uncle Carter. I wasn't trying to stick the whole bottle in my, uh," So slow. So stupid. "My pussy."

Vanessa held the bottle out. Maybe it would get the racist bastard to shut... t-to... to stop.

To please stop. Just for a moment.

"Hmm... Not tryin' to stick it all in?"

Carter took a swig. Vanessa started the process on the second bottle, shuddering at the renewed smooth, cold sensation in her needy pussy.

"Just tryin' to show you can take more than your little niglet after all, huh?"

The black mother almost lost her grip on the foreign object filling her cunt up.

It slipped out a bit. She slid it back in. It -

"Y-Yes." As disgusting as the acknowledgement was, 'No' wasn't an option. Or, in a way, the truth, and Vanessa had no other simple invention to replace a simple affirmative, "Yes, Sir."

Carter took another little sip. He swished. He smiled.

"Not so deep, if you can stop yourself, slut," He said pleasantly, ignoring that he had been the one to encourage her to... to put it in so... "My hand got a little messy."

Vanessa was already pushing the second in. Far in, and getting stretched by the wide shoulder. She bit her lip. She... stopped, stopped painfully forcing herself, and reluctantly pulled the bottle out, to rest on the counter.

Despite leaving behind ample 'flavor' on each previous beer, the final bottleneck slid into Vanessa's hairy snatch easily. Into her needy hole. Vanessa looked at Carter while she did it, while she put it in.

"You're keepin' that boy waiting, nigger."

"Yes, Uncle Carter." Vanessa s-stopped sticking herself. The flushed, dripping middle-aged negress slowly slipped the bottle from inside her. She set her panties back in place, before grabbing the beer she had set aside a moment ago.

Carter explored her clothed vagina a moment before bunching her panties, giving a little extra tug to reset her frontal wedgie deep, deep in place. Vanessa winced, but kept her occupied hands steady.

"Nice smile, now."

Carter caressed... Then gripped and gave a final yank to her swollen, wet lips before turning her hips for her, swatting her ass with a hard open palm, and sending her with a stumble towards the living room.

With her twin puffballs waggling on top of her head, a frothy, tainted beer in each hand, Vanessa entered with a big, sickened, thick-lipped smile.

"... So many promises, you know? And the more I try to get close again, the more I feel like I'm floundering. Pushing her away. But I don't know what else to do! If I just let go I know - *I know* she's gone for... for, ah..."

James was sitting forward on the ottoman - his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped, and his youthful face pained as he had somehow found a way to divert the conversation, and his mind, from Vanessa's slut nature to his perfectly normal relationship woes.

Brand was standing opposite him, and nodding sympathetically. He looked at Vanessa, and palpable relief flashed over his otherwise carefully concealed expression. He eyed the beer in her hands with a need unlike any she had ever seen from him, and Vanessa had the sudden impression that her entrance had just saved the big man from more tale of teenage heartache than he had been prepared to handle.

"Good!" He clapped his hands, interrupting James' flow.

Startled, James looked at her. Brand looked at her. Her legs froze. Her knees trembled. Vanessa felt suddenly hot behind her fake, grossly out of place smile.

Carter gave a second, hard swat to her ass, jolting the formerly dignified women into jumping forward to James.

To James, smiling her dumb smile, waving a pussy-fucked beer bottle in either hand.

She couldn't bear to... Vanessa abruptly changed her course, veered away from James, and brought her offering to Brand.

She held it out. The room was quiet. He didn't take it. Vanessa glanced bervously at James. Then back at Carter. Carter sipped his own beer with a loud slurp.

"Umm... Here-s your beer D-Dad-Brand." Vanessa stopped herself from saying 'Daddy' just in time to say something worse, more bizarre. Dad?!? "Uh, Sir."

Fuck! Every word... Vanessa's feet danced on their toes a bit, purely out of humiliated angst. God! She danced, and held out the... just - just take the beer! She waggled the bottle, by the neck, back and forth.

"Guests first, 'Nessa." Brand said politely, making no move to collect the desperately offered beverage.

"Ah," Vanessa felt tears jump to her eyes. She... She was so...

She put a smile back on her face, and blinked.

"Ah, sorry," she laughed shortly, uncomfortably. She hardly even choked on it. Under the gaze of all three white men she turned and continued her meandering, strange course to deliver a beer to her daughter's sitting estranged boyfriend.

"Sorry, sir." Vanessa stood in front of the boy. The - the young man. James. He was almost at eye level with Vanessa's... She swallowed, "Here you go, James." James quietly, gingerly took her offered burden from her hand. "Sorry." She whispered.

James mumbled a response. He made no move to drink.

He breathed in deep, and looked up. Finally stopped looking at Vanessa's parted, contrary womanhood.

Boy and woman locked eyes. He looked confused. He looked like he was going to say something.

He touched her smooth, strong brown thigh instead. Lightly, and withdrew his hand quickly. Testing if the older woman's hot skin would burn him, if she would...

She wouldn't. Couldn't. He, the boy dating her daughter, a boy she had known since he was little, and playing... he could touch her. He could touch her thigh. He could touch her any way he wanted.

Vanessa felt another little piece of herself die, knowing that.

Not knowing - feeling that. Feeling his hand.

It had been warm, on her thigh. He had touched her. Vanessa turned her hips, and walked again to Brand, head down.

She gave him the final beer.

Behind her she heard James , and sputter, and cough on his first sip.

Vanessa knew why. She wanted to sink into the floor. Forever.

Brand's eyes twinkled. He took a long, long gulp of his own drink. He frowned, and held up his beer bottle to the light, looking at it quizzically.

The humiliation... the anticipation... it writhed its way up Vanessa's groin. An uncomfortable, twisting knot, in her belly, and lower. How... how had she... why...

This couldn't be her. Happening to her.

"Interesting flavor."

Sip. Swish. More eyeing of the bottle. Turning it..

"Strong bouquet."

Brand stroked Vanessa's thigh. The hard, painful knot in her tummy... In her, her...

"What flavor is that?"

Nigger.

Vanessa shuddered, and purged her brain. She couldn't... that word, it kept popping in. She...

"It's... P-peach, Da-" Vanessa could feel her constricted chest rise. Fall. She was such a slut. She was such a slut that it hurt.

"Daddy." Literally hurt.

Brand smirked. "Hmm. Peach?" Off to the side Carter laughed condescendingly. Brand took another sip. He sat on the couch. He raised the bottle, and tipped it toward Vanessa.

"You couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Vanessa shook her head. No.

"I would like a little more."

Vanessa glanced back at James. She... she wished she hadn't. Really wished...

She bunched up her skirt front. She felt the back raise with it.

Raised, uncovering her backside. Where James' eyes were lingering. Crawling on her dark bare skin. She had just seen them, she knew where they were. She could feel his hot gaze touching her.

She pulled aside her panties.

Brand stuck out the beer bottle. Upright. Between her thighs.

Vanessa reached out a hand to steady the object she was to impale her pussy on. Brand slapped it away. "No hands."

Somehow, Vanessa found a way to feel even more humiliated by his casual , his denial of any control she might have, all in front of Ja-

Oh... Oh god.

Vanessa looked down, trying to get sight of her target. She lowered her hips, her ass, her...

She felt it. Cool, hard, smooth. It touched... then spread... parted...

And slowly, it entered her. Slipped up, and in, through her shameful little hole. It slid inside her so... so fucking easily.

"You see, James? Look at her. Can you imagine this thing as a mother in law?"

Ah! Ah, "F-fuck," Vanessa whispered, and bit off a moan. A screaming moan, at being described like... "Ah, f-fuck." The knot in her belly, it... she bit her lip. Up and down. She up, d-down and, and she...

She started to have upright intercourse with the beer bottle. It felt so fucking good. It felt so, so bad. So soul-crushingly awful.

Started to have sex with the bottle, right before Brand took it out.

Female arousal clung to the glass bottleneck. More than before.

"Uggh," Brand's face was exaggeratedly disgusted.

Maybe exaggerated. Maybe... not. It... what she left behind was a lot. Vanessa was certainly as disgusted with herself as Brand's face indicated he was with her.

He wiped the worst of it on Vanessa's front, leaving a sticky trail on the underside of her breasts and her daughter's sequined cheerleader's top. Brand shook his head at her. He took a sip, and grimaced.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," Vanessa babbled, her skirt still raised up in her hand.

"Would you like any more, James?" Brand asked, looking up at Vanessa, sipping. "Vanessa, why don't you go freshen up James' - " Vanessa was shaking her head, subtly, her eyes pleading with Brand. Not that he would care or stop.

"N-no." James' voice interrupted Brand. He rescued her.

"I'm going up to, uh... I came here for... Elly said..." James took a deep breath in. He shut his eyes, and opened them. "I'm going up to Elly's room. I left some things of mine there." He let the breath out. Each word was spoken with deliberate determination to Brand, rather than Vanessa. Even without anyone saying, with his history, knowing Vanessa, knowing Elly... it was Brand's house. His rules.

"Of course. That's what you came here for." Brand's voice was pleasant. Nothing was out of place for him. He nodded at the young man.

"Help the boy out, nnn-Nessa," Carter added, drawing out the first letter.

Help the boy out, nigger. Help him out; and 'help' him out. Interrupted and failed performances aside, she still...

Vanessa bit her lip, and nodded her understanding. She looked at James, and blushed under her dark skin. She quietly started leading the way, around the hallway, and then upstairs; feeling her hips and butt move and sway as James walked behind her on the steps. Giving him a full, revealing show of her lacy-panty-clad black ass... and more, more peeking out between her legs. Her smell drifting behind her, too, perfuming her every thigh-rubbing step up.

God, her thighs. Even her thighs were wet with arousal. James must have been able to see them, too. See them, smell them.

Touch them. His hand brushed up, lightly touching, starting at her knee, then higher, up her thigh and lingering over her ass. Vanessa didn't look back, didn't want to see if the action was deliberate, or just... just a boy. A boy she knew well, too well, entranced by accessible flesh and unable to resist the temptation to touch. They reached the top of the stairs.

Vanessa led the way. James' hand, his light touch didn't leave her, except for brief, fleeting moments when the motion of her walk parted their skin. She turned at the door to her Elly's bedroom. She turned, and James' hand drifted over the globes of her butt, and settled on her hip when she did. Vanessa swallowed, and faced her daughter's boyfriend, and looked up.

He was taller than her, even with her sneakers for help. Not a lot, but a bit. Vanessa's chest rose, and fell. Deep breaths. Oh, god. It... this...

He was a handsome enough boy, but clearly a boy. A baby. Far too young, too young for -

"Hh!" Vanessa gasped quietly, and her eyes fluttered wide. James kissed her full lips.

Kissed!

Vanessa hadn't been kissed since... she didn't want to think about the elevator, or ugh! Timothy, her rude, slimy coworker. But before that... It had been forever. And...

He kissed her, and held her close. He backed her against the door, pressing his body into hers.

God! Fuck! He was a g-good kisser. His strong lips, on her top lip, then her bottom. Sucking firmly, but not slobbering. His tongue, mostly in its own space, but taking little forays, occasionally invading. Bold, but sensitive, and tender. They kissed, and kissed, and James reached, and opened the door. He wrapped Vanessa up. They stepped in the room, fell in, kissing and kissing and...

Vanessa kissed him back. She was - she was sloppier than he was. Needier. And... but... H-he couldn't. Not her, not with a kiss. Not like... she was trash. Hadn't he seen that she was trash? A nigger? Hadn't she shown him? Vanessa finally parted lips, and backed off, and James followed. He couldn't want this. Not James. Not with her. He was confused.

He really was. Vanessa could see it in his eyes. His young eyes, his young face. He was so confused. And hurt. Vanessa had thrown herself at him. Made herself completely accessible, while he was . And he... he just didn't know what to do.

Some part of him knew what to do. James stepped forward. The part that knew what to do pressed against her wet thigh, through his pants, poking her firm, naked flesh hard.

The part that knew what to do lifted her tiny top, struggling, shimmying it side-to-side up to the top of her chest, where the bunched-up slut wear stayed. It freed her flattened and compressed big brown twins. Dragged them upwards with the too-tight fabric until they were uncovered, and flopped back down.

He grabbed one. Vanessa winced in pain when he thumbed her bandaged nipple.

He looked into her wide, brown eyes.

He peeled off the covering. It stuck to her skin, stretching the sensitive flesh. Cool air brushed her hot, angry nipple. It was recovering, but still clearly injured, even without the telltale bandages covering it.

His own eyes asked the question.

"I was bad," Vanessa whispered. Choked.

James' expression twisted a bit. Not with any kind of sympathy, or pity. It hardened. He pushed her. Not violently, but firmly. Vanessa didn't resist. She fell back on her daughter's bed, one elbow behind her, propping her up.

James unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his jeans. He freed it. It was rock hard. Veiny. Vanessa looked up at the young man, suddenly intimidated.

That just turned her on more. She could feel it, between her thighs. She was so pathetic. Such a sorry excuse for a woman, a mother.

She spread her legs, and rubbed her swollen black cunt through Elly's lacy white panties.

She pulled on them, practically panting. James helped her, his hand caressing her thigh as he peeled them off her hot body, past her calves and off her raised feet. He tossed them on the bed next to her. She was bare, and spread and... and ready. Ready to offer it up to a boy she had watched grow up.

He positioned himself over her, the bed sank under his weight. Vanessa felt it poke around... F-ffuu... She grabbed it, and positioned it, guided it to where it needed to be. It slipped along her slit, and poked at, threatened her hole.

"I've never..." he said. His voice was calm, but tight. He didn't elaborate. He thrust forward.

"Ahh-haahh!" James stuck his white teen cock right inside the black mother, straight to the hilt. She screamed. Her legs kicked up, and wrapped around James' back. She dragged him on top of her, clutched him close.

Fuck! Fuck!

They were too near the edge of the bed. Vanessa pulled, and they turned as one, rolling, and stopping with Vanessa on top.

She kissed her daughter's ex-beau. She jammed her tongue right down his young throat, before coming up for air.

"Fuck, fuck me." He felt so good. She needed it so bad.

James grabbed her swinging breasts, mashing them. She wouldn't be able to -

"Please... Please..." She would need it soon. She had needed it all day. She could feel its beginnings stirring. She had to ask, wanted to ask, "Please tell me I can cum."

James didn't answer. He did buck his hips, and use her swaying brown jugs for handles, and fuck her milf pussy deep. Vanessa groaned, and her forehead furrowed in torturous pleasure.

"Please!" She slapped James' firm chest in desperation, jolting him. "Please, I need you to tell me. Say I can cum. Please say -"

"Dammit! Yes, fine, cum, bitch."

Cum, bitch. She could cum. Tears... she could feel them, honest crying, she... "Oh, oh fuck." She fucked down hard, working toward her goal. It built inside, that blissful, shameful feeling. That need. "Thank you. Thank you, Sir. I fucking love you," She needed it so badly. Vanessa's lips formed a nice little circle. Her cheeks sucked in. James had never... never sworn in front of her - and at her calling her a bitch... fuck. "I love you, thank you." Felt so... she was such a fucking... "Fuck!"

"What did you say?" James' voice was calm. Cold. He wasn't humping back.

Oh... Oh shit. What had she... What had she blurted?

Vanessa paused, trying to form words, remember, think past the orgasm pulsing, ready to burst in her belly, ready to flood her with -

James pushed her. Her pushed her right off his hard dick. He pushed her away again. He pushed her right off her daughter's bed, tumbling and squealing, stomach leaping into her throat like she was on a roller coaster, right before she hit the carpeted floor, hard.

"'I love you?'" He stood. He towered over her, and Vanessa cringed and cowered on the floor. He was furious. His penis stared straight at Vanessa, slick with her arousal.

"'I love you?'" He repeated.

"I - I was just, I - I, it - with the kissing and, I was and... it just came out I -" Vanessa babbled. She picked herself up, kneeling. She grabbed James' leg, looked at his face through the vision of his young cock, his tight balls.

"Shut up," He kicked her off his leg. Tried to. Vanessa wrapped her body around it, hugging it tight, squeezing it hard against her sick stomach and fat breasts. She...

She spread her kneeling legs and put her pussy on his foot. She was crying. She kissed his thigh.

"It's your fault," He grabbed one puffball pigtail and yanked her head back and to the side, stopping her kisses. He looked down on her. "You think I wanted this?"

"You think I wanted you?" James scoffed. He laughed harshly, heartbroken.

"This was my first time. It was supposed to be with Elly. We... we talked about it, she..."

Oh, oh god. Vanessa had always assumed that the two... they had been close for so long, and when they started dating, they had started dating hard. Elly had said they weren't having sex, Vanessa hadn't pushed it, but she thought it was just... that her daughter had lied.

Instead, Vanessa had just taken James' virginity. "I didn't kn-"

"Shut up," James cut her off, slapping the side of her head. "Shut the fuck up, whore."

Worse, worse than being called a bitch in the heat of her passion... being called a whore, like this...

It devastated her. Vanessa's eyes teared up again. She was a whore, a slut. Worse. She -

"I loved Elly. I love her. You?" He laughed, "Do you know how much she looks up to you? How much the things you said to her about me, the things you said to my face affected her? Affected us? She'd still be with me, if you had just... and I come over here and there's a couple strangers using you," He practically spat the word 'you', like a curse, "Using you as a live-in slut. And you - you, Vanessa." He shook his head, unbelieving, "You get me a beer. And you fuck my goddamn beer bottle and prance your fat ass around in your daughter's clothes before taking me up to her room and spreading yourself like... like..."

A whore. A nigger whore.

"You're filth." He did spit. He yanked her puffball again, got a good angle, and spit right on her screwed up brown little face. Vanessa didn't stop hugging his leg, she whimpered and -

"Jesus!" Pain exploded in Vanessa's sopping cunt, "Are you trying to hump my foot? You, you still...?" He kicked her again, reflexively, reflexive with disgust, trying to dislodge the clinging, disgusting black mass from his leg. He kicked her again, square in her inflamed, wet pussy. Vanessa finally let go, doubled over, gasping.

"Oh! I'm I- I didn't mean to..." For a moment, James was James again. Sympathetic, for having... but Vanessa wasn't Vanessa. She was... "Serves your right, though." His regression lasted only a moment. "Rubbing that hairy, slimy thing on me. My foot." James shook the offended appendage, "I can't believe I put my dick into it. Into you." Vanessa felt something wet, more spit, hit her back. She buried her face in the carpet, and sobbed.

"Stop that whining." James' voice hit her like a whip. Her teary face jerked up. She saw James again, his eyes. They hated her. Hated... loathed... "You know exactly what you did. What you are. Just like your 'friend' down there said about you."

His cock was somehow still hard. Very hard. Angrily hard, pink and tan with blood coursing underneath.

He saw her looking at it. He wrinkled his nose. He narrowed his eyes. "Get your filth off me," James demanded. He sat back on the bed, and stroked his cock.

Vanessa shook her head, 'no'. But she... she looked down. She had made a mess, such a vile mess. She...

She scooted forward, on her knees, and with broad strokes, with the whole flat top of her tongue she began licking the top of James' foot, slurping her slickness off of it. Licking and sucking the hairy top she had defiled with her -

"I - I mean get it off my... just my..."

Vanessa looked up. James' face was as hard as ever, but a little bewildered, and shocked. O-oh. He held his hard... his... he just wanted her to suck his...

And, that she would... that she would think to do something like lick his foot...

He hadn't even considered that. She was still showing him just how low she was, still going beyond all expectations. That's what she was, now. Lower than the filth he called her. Lower than the young man could even imagine.

Vanessa swallowed, and raised her torso up. She opened her big mouth, and took James' hard member inside that wet place. She had left behind so, so much arousal. She could taste it, it filled her mouth... she sucked, her cheeks hollowing, and she looked up.

James grabbed the lacy, sexy white panties off the bed. He turned them in his hands.

"I got these for Elly." He spoke about his crush, Vanessa's daughter, while she bobbed up and down on his young cock. He was distant, somehow distant to even getting sucked off.

"Elly..."

Vanessa bobbed harder, hitting her throat on James' young dick. She - she punished herself. For her sickness, for her behavior, for her words and... and because...

When he said Elly's name... after having just... the sex and kissing and she was sucking him and she - A little bit, Vanessa felt jealous. She punished herself for that too.

"She left them behind. At least I know Elly's not flashing the panties I got her to some other guy." James shook his head, pain and disgust warring on his young face. He put them, Elly's panties, on Vanessa's head, stretching them down until it formed a kind of perverted mask, puffy pigtails and big, distressed eyes poking through the legholes, with the soaked crotch right over her nose. "I don't want to have to look at your face, not even on accident."

Fuck, that hurt. Hurt her insides. She hurt so much, and... she...

Vanessa impaled her own ugly, panty covered face, and sputtered and choked. James shuddered above her.

"Sh-shit. You can suck, slut." He told his ex's mother.

She-she could suck. Suck better than...

Vanessa closed her eyes, and stopped fucking her own face long enough to breathe. God. Actually jealous, and getting worse. She put her hands between her legs. She touched her sore, abused cunny, and gasped around the slick mess she was making of James' cock. She was awful.

James roughly shoved her hands away from her crotch, pried them off with his foot. He put a hand on the back of her head, and started taking her deep. Not exactly fucking her throat but... but going as far as she had gone herself. Just minutes ago he had entered her, kissed her. Minutes before that he had been almost afraid to touch her. Now...

"Uoo -glkk! phaik ay c -glck! coou' cumm!" Vanessa protested with her full, fucked mouth, hands uselessly waving, unable to satisfy her pussy.

Now, somehow, Brand and Carter and she had changed the boy that had entered her house.

"That was before. Before you - just, just shut up." James closed his eyes, and leaned back his head. "I'm almost..."

That was all the warning she got. Vanessa squawked in disapproval as James splooged out spurt after spurt of icky, thick cum into her mouth and throat, continuing his . He thrust deep, and kept his hands on her head.

Vanessa swallowed, and worked her tongue, and swallowed. What she didn't swallow drooled out, past her thick bottom lip, down her chin and onto her daughter's bunched up top and skirt and her bare dark tits.

James stroked Vanessa's head a moment. Stroked her hair while he softened in her mouth - still hard, but not as hard. She suckled it, lightly, swallowing often. He breathed deep. He looked down into Vanessa's eyes, peeping out behind her panty headed mask.

His lips parted. His throat tightened, to say something.

He shook his head, and popped Vanessa off his dick instead, shoving her down and to the side.

He stood, and wordlessly began dressing, and looking at the shelves, in Elly's closet, while Vanessa kneeled, heaving in deep breaths of her own. Sucking in drool - saliva and cum. Panting, and stroking her smooth thighs, kneading them up and down. Wishing that... wishing... so many things, but...

Wishing that she could stroke a little higher. Wishing she wasn't so disgusting. So worthless, pathetic, and sorry.

James stopped poking around, and sighed.

"I couldn't... I don't want any of this, after all." He looked at Vanessa. He looked into her soul. "It's tainted. All of it. Everything here."

He wasn't the same boy at all, that he had been earlier that day. Earlier that hour.

"Please don't tell Elly," Vanessa blurted through her panty mask. She didn't know why. He... He wouldn't. The shame crept up, it was bubbling all the time, and when those bubbles popped... she didn't know herself, who she was, what she would do or say. She rubbed her thighs. James laughed bitterly.

He probably wouldn't. He might not know himself anymore either. Neither of them did, or each other.

"Come on, slut. Let's get you back to your... 'Daddy'." His mouth twisted.

Before Vanessa could arrange herself, or think to protest, James grabbed her wrist, forcing the black woman to her feet. He half-led, half-dragged Vanessa out of her daughter's room and downstairs, stumbling and panty-headed. Bare-breasted and humiliated. Her tits and chin and cunt and cheerleader uniform each wet with sexual fluids.

"She's all yours." James said loudly. He turned the older woman, and shoved her toward the living room, before slipping on his shoes and slamming the door behind him.

Vanessa crept forward with small, uneasy steps.

Brand was still in the living room. Carter too. Somehow, Mister Fluffy had made his way downstairs, and was keeping James' unfinished beer company on the ottoman.

All three took in the sight of the bedraggled, fucked nigger woman for a moment.

Brand laughed jovially.

"I told you he would!"

Carter grimaced, and fished out his wallet. He stood, and handed a twenty note over to the other man.

"You really let that boy make a mess of you, didn't you nigger?" He grunted angrily, looking at Vanessa, glaring.

Silence followed the question, expecting... "Yes, Sir," Vanessa whispered into Elly's panties.

Brand smiled. "Don't mind Uncle Carter. You did fine. He underestimated your daughter's friend is all, after catching the end him going on and on about your little girl."

"More like him not finishing his beer," Carter glared even harder, like it was somehow Vanessa's fault. She swallowed nervously.

"Yes, that too." Brand smugly tucked the bet away. "But I saw him touch you. That was it, wasn't it sweetie? That nice young boy touched your naughty mommy parts all over, didn't he?"

As if the evidence wasn't...

"Yes, Daddy," Vanessa choked out through a sob. James had touched her, and...

"Come here, Nessie. Come on." Brand patted his knee. Vanessa, head down, stomach churning, nervously walked over to the younger white man and knelt. "Look up."

Vanessa saw it, even with Elly's panties obscuring her vision. She knew what would happen when she did. But she was powerless. She tilted her downcast head up, into the little cell phone camera, right into the lens.

Click

Brand studied the photo, and took a couple more.

He thumbed through them.

"Do you think James might want a souvenir?"

He would want to forget. Just like Vanessa wished she could. It was seared into her soul. She...

"I think he hates me. That I'm..." Repulsive. Unfit to be Elly's mother.

"Mmm," Brand didn't stop. "Interesting," He was barely listening, not really caring. "Well even if he doesn't want this now, I bet he will still keep it for later." Brand stated confidently.

Vanessa didn't argue. Brand would know.