My 23-year-old half-sister Yolanda lives with my momma and father and me, and while she works some, she isn't paying them rent or spending money on food or anything but her own cell phone and clothes and parties and such. Mom and Dad (but not Yolanda's Dad) accept this but on one condition....as long as she lives with us and doesn't pay rent, she has to abide by the rules he lays down just as if she were still in high school, including all curfews, rules about overnight guests, the whole nine yards. Just as soon as she agrees to pay rent and her share of bills and such, she can be her own person. Yolanda, being Yolanda, of course, tries to do both, that is, not pay rent and bills, and yet be her own person anyway. Just your normal, black, inner-city. middle-income family, pretty much, plus a few too-ordinary inner-city problems.
Take the way that she stayed out until two in the morning that fateful weekend, and ended up in jail and had to be bailed out by my father. My dad promptly grounded her for the next month, saying that as soon as she got off work she had to come straight home and stay home until work the next day. Seven-year-old me was deputized by Dad to make sure she stuck with this.
Of course, Yolanda promptly bribed me to overlook the fact that her third-floor bedroom window became a highway that she used to both exit her room at night and to enter either alone or with a boyfriend, or for the boyfriend to enter for some midnight delight. I had agreed with the understanding that I wouldn't directly lie to Dad if he asked me anything, only not tattle on her and I would try to avoid telling him anything. For example, if Dad asked where she was, I would say I hadn't seen her slip out but wouldn't claim she was in her room if she wasn't.
But more often, the guys slipped in that month, it was like a different guy every night, we were on the third floor but the fire escape was a fixed staircase that got a lot of use by several people in the building. The same fire escape served my bedroom as well. I would hear the metal railing go ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring and know from its tone dimming that Yolanda had slipped out or from its rising that a boyfriend had slid in to her room. I was just glad that she managed to keep her lovers quiet, probably drowning their noises in her pillow-sized boobs. I couldn't see how any man could breathe if she jammed their faces into those twin knockers she packed into her bra.
So that was how it went for over a week and my father was either satisfied with my reports or lack of them or was overlooking things so as to not have to have another scream-fight with Yolanda with Mom playing Yolanda's advocate, so that he got it in stereo.
Then came a Friday night about eleven-thirty when I heard a tap-tap-tap-tap-tap on my bedroom window. I sat up in bed and looked out and a young man was there.
One of Yolanda's boyfriends, I thought and sighed to myself, turned on the lamp, got out of bed, went to the window and opened it. The window had no screen in it, and he hoisted it on up before I could say anything and scrambled on in. He was a big, handsome hunk of a guy, with a broad chest and muscled arms and big, powerful hands that he worked like he wanted to grab and choke something.
"Yolanda's room is on the other side of the fire escape. I'm Richard, her half-brother." I told him.
"Yeah, yeah, I know that, but she told me to come tonight and I see she's already got a fellow in there with her," he told me. "I mean, what the hell is she doing?"
"I don't know," I said. "Maybe she got her dates messed up?"
"Shee-it," he said. "Look, Richard, do me a favor? Can you go tell her I'm here and ask her what she wants me to do?"
"You want me to interrupt her and a boyfriend while they're fucking?" I was properly aghast at that thought.
"They're not fucking yet, just talking. If you go now, you can ask her. Do it for me, man, I got to know. Tell her Malcolm is here, ask her what happened."
Before I knew it, I was sort of hustled out into the hallway and with nothing better to do, I went and knocked on Yolanda's door. "Go away!" came the call, Yolanda knew it wasn't Mom or Dad for they would yell at her instead of knock.
"Need to talk to you!" I called.
I didn't normally do this so it worked, she cracked open the door a little and peered at me with one eye. "What is it?"
"There's a guy named Malcolm in my room, he came to see you and wants to know what happened, what should he do?" I asked.
"Oh, him!" Yolanda raised her voice so the guy could hear. "Malcolm's in my little brother's room wanting to know what happened." She and the guy laughed. She turned back to me. "He wants to know what happened and what he should do? What happened is I found a better man than him, and what he should do is go to Hell." With that, she slammed the door shut.
I went back to my room and found Malcolm sitting on my bed like it was his bed. "What did she say?" he asked me.
"You want the word-for-word, or just the jist of it?"
"Give it to me straight."
"She said," I drew a breath, "that she found a better man than you and you can go to Hell." I drew another breath. "Yolanda is nasty that way. I'm sorry."
He sighed, "I can't say as I'm too surprised. My problem is that I thought I could stay the night with her and slip out in the morning. I don't have a place to go tonight. I'm new in town and sleeping on friend's couches, don't get paid until the fifteenth."
"Gee, that's tough."
"Can I crash here with you? Your bed's big enough." he asked me.
When a big, handsome stud asks that of a seven-year-old boy who is frankly enamored of how big and strong and good-looking he is, the answer is a given. "Uh, sure, sure, you can share my bed," I nattered.
"Good. By the way, your briefs are sagging," he told me.
I slept in only my briefs and the ones I had on were rather worn in the elastic. I hastily hitched them up again. I got into the bed and he got out to leisurely undress. First his shoes which were sturdy work boots in worn brown tones. Then his socks, gray work socks also well used. His shirt was a newer shirt of linen, pale yellow with some thin red and blue lines making squares all over it, he peeled it off and that left him with a short-sleeve t-shirt of plain white. He noticed me staring then, and he grinned, his teeth a startling white half-moon in his face as he peeled it up over his body, the body itself shining in the lamplight in my room and every muscle gleamed with its own arc of light and vitality as he flexed and moved to lift the t-shirt over his head and lower it down to the floor.
He unbuttoned his blue jeans and began to peel them down, and he revealed a pair of boxer shorts, pale yellow in color and when he got the jeans off, he sat down on the edge of the bed, with one leg hooked onto the bed and the other foot still on the floor and he looked over at me, and I saw with some embarrassment and a lot of interest that the fly of the boxers gaped open in this position so that I could see right inside at his rather prodigious cock, which was at half-mast.
His voice was low and husky, and rather sensual, seductive, gentle as the wind. "I want to thank you for helping me with this."
"That's okay." I said as softly as he had, my eyes darting up from his crotch to meet his eyes, then lowering down again.
"If there's anything I can do for you to repay you, just let me know. Anything at all, I'll be more than happy to do it."
He lifted the covers and slid into bed and he got his warm body very close to mine and his lips were right up next to my ear as he whispered, "I'll do anything at all."
I was trembling and these words just cut right through my resistance, and I moved as if I were hypnotized, watching myself move. My hand slid over and found the open fly in his boxers and fumbled inside and found that fat, warm, slab of man-meat and Malcolm just sighed and lay back on his back and said, "Go ahead, Richard, do anything you want to with it. I'm all yours."
Well...Yolanda and I had the same mother, after all. I dove onto Malcolm's body and hauled that hefty honker of his out into the light and it was nine solid inches of sturdy black man-meat, and I engulfed it eagerly in my mouth and began to suck on it like I'd been born knowing how to suck a man's cock. I must have done it right because Malcolm let out a long, vibrant moan of pleasure and he said, reverently, "God, damn, kid, you are a master cocksucker, yeah, suck it for me, Richard, suck my fat cock and suck it hard, baby! Mmmm, ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck, yeahhhhhh!"
His thick work-sturdy hand slid down my body and found my briefs and fished inside, and I moaned and without letting go of his cock, I got hold of my waistband and slid them down my body, the worn material released easily.
"Good idea, kid, let me do that," Malcolm breathed. "Then we can really get down to business."
I kicked my briefs off and watched as he sat up in bed to remove his boxers more sedately, his posture was again a poetry of muscles moving in harmony, he sat with his legs held up close to his body, perched on his rather tiny buttocks, his massive chest folded inwards, and his muscled biceps maxed out in size as they peeled the boxers down over his barrel-keg thighs and enormous calves and past his large, athletic feet. Again, the lamplight caught and glistened over every one of the muscles of his body, he got his body free and lay back down again like a magnificent panther lounging after a kill and said, "Now, get over here and give me some sugar."
He held up those powerful hands and I eagerly crawled into them and lay upon his strong body and he gripped me and our faces met as we kissed, a single, long, power-filled kiss with his tongue jamming into my mouth filled with the saliva that tasted of beer and beer nuts and a hamburger and fries he'd had for supper if I guessed right. His life was like that, fast food and fast women like Yolanda and every night a different bed to sleep in, he had found mine tonight.
Well, tonight his majestic massive midnight-toned body was all mine!
He released my mouth and I used my lips to wander over his neck and shoulders, tasting the broad power of the pectorals which had sweated profusely through the day, he must have been doing manual labor to have churned up this sort of sweat, he had bathed but it still lingered there in pores that had clung to the daily salt and oils of the body that it needed to reserve for the next morning's labor.
He wasn't still, he kissed me the way I was kissing him and he was wandering down my body as I roamed over his, and when I again found the tower of his masculinity, he reached the column of my pre-pubescent pride and as I devoured him again, he chomped onto my own small prick with every evidence of finding it a prize delicacy for a predator like himself. I nearly swooned at how well he sucked my cock, Malcolm might enjoy balling a big-boobed broad-butted bombshell like Yolanda, but he didn't flinch at a walk on the other side like me, for him, sex was sex, to be enjoyed regardless of the plumbing involved. With me, he gave it his all and I did the same because he was a gorgeous, magnificent man and Yolanda was crazy for pitching him aside like she had, throwing him away like garbage, making him...a superfluous boyfriend. I'd just learned that word and I liked it, it meant anything that was unnecessary, especially in that you had more than enough and didn't need it. Yolanda didn't need Malcolm...fine, I'd take him!
Then I felt Malcolm's finger playing with my asshole. Worming around the edge of the sphincter, he had me squirming at how good it felt. He pulled his finger back for a moment and when he brought it back again, it was wet with his spit. He must have put it in his mouth somehow while still licking on me, or....
I gasped. He had stuck that slippery finger right into my asshole! I grunted as he wriggled it into me like a hungry snake chasing a mouse through an underground tunnel, but he got it into me to the knuckle and said, "How does that feel?" As he said that, he used his finger and brushed me inside at two bumps in there I didn't know I had and I crooned, they felt so good.
"Ooooooooooh!"
"You like that, don't you?" he said and he brushed them again and again. I could only gasp and groan and grunt "Yes."
"Good, then you'll love it when I fuck you." he said. "Get my cock as wet as you can and I'll work on your butthole and get it slicked up."
I obeyed his order and slobbered on his whanger and he surprised me by going down and literally jabbed his tonguetip into my ass, the tongue coated with his saliva. He alternated that with smearing saliva on his finger and shoving that into me, and he began to work in two fingers and stretched out my anus. Some of that hurt, but not much and he seemed to be extra talented in doing this, because he had my butt taking two and then three of his fingers in only a short time. I was loving all of it, too, and was in a high heat of sexual desire when he finally said, "Okay, baby, time for a ride on the love train. Get ready to climb aboard."
He rolled me onto my back and got his thick legs in between my thin ones and scooted up close and said, "Now grab hold and hang on tight."
I grabbed his chest with my hands and arms and his burly thighs with my legs and my heels and I gripped and said huskily, "I'm ready, Malcolm."
His cock bumped a time or two, then found my small hole and he smiled and said, "Here it comes, baby."
He pushed into me and I just gave a long, low moan as he slid it into me. Malcolm's work on my ass had been magical, for he didn't hurt me enough to matter as he pushed that huge honker into my butt, I just felt like it belonged in there and I never wanted it to leave. Malcolm pushed in about six of his nine inches and stopped and said, "Damn, kid, you are one horny motherfucker! I never seen a kid your age take it that easy. Most of 'em kind of tense up and bleed and complain, and I hate to do it to them after that. But you fucking love it, don't you?"
"Mmmmm, yeah, feels good," I sighed.
"Then let's see how you feel about it after this?" Malcolm pulled his cock back out and then pushed it back in, a little faster. I moaned as he pulled it out, then gasped as he pushed it back in. "How was that?"
"Great. Do it again, and faster." I grunted.
"Oh, I'll do it faster." Malcolm began to pump his cock in and out of me, going slow at first but faster with each stroke. All I did was grunt and groan and moan with pleasure and soon he was ramming at my ass with all his energy and verve, and I was groaning and gasping and crying out as he hammered my butt so hard I expected to have bruises on my butt in the morning.
"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!" I cried. "Oh, oh, oh, harder, Malcolm, harder!"
"Shit, kid, I'm, fucking, you, hard, as I, can!" he panted. "You're, hot, so, fucking, hot!"
"Come on, you can do more, can't you?" I begged. "Fuck me harder, faster, somehow?"
"I'll, uh, I'll try!" He panted. He gripped my left leg and hauled it upward as he got up onto one foot, left the other one on his knee, that left me perched on my side, my butt suspended in the air, and he had more leverage to whale on my butt with his hips which he proceeded to do.
"Heee, heee, heee, heee, heee!" I keened as he pummeled my butt. "Yeah, oh, yeah, that's nice, that's it, do it that way, great, oh, oh, great, yeah, oh, oh, oh!"
"Shit, Richard, I'm about to come!" Malcolm moaned. "OH, OH, OH, JEEZ!"
"DO IT, DO IT, I'M COMING, TOO!" I shouted out. "I'M COMING, TOO!"
"AHHHH-AHHH-AHHH-AHHH-AHHH!" Malcolm warbled.
"OHHH-OHHH-OHHH-OHHH-OHHH!" I twittered in my own higher notes.
"UHHHH-UHHH-UHHH-UHHH-UHHHHH, HUH-GUHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNN!" Malcolm shot hot wads into my ass as he cried out his passion to the heavens.
"HAHHHH-AHHH-AHHH-AHHHH, HAHHHHHH-HUHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNN!" I cried out at the same time, and our cries shook the walls of my room.
My parents' room was on the other side of the kitchen and living room, which was why Yolanda got away with so much crap and boyfriend visits. But I'd listened more than once to her men-friends and her shouting out in their coital climax moments, so it wasn't that big of a shock that as Malcolm and I lay panting on the bed after we were done that my bedroom door burst open (I didn't have a lock on my door like Yolanda had on hers), and Yolanda burst in, wearing a not-quite-adequate bathrobe around her too-ample frame.
"What the hell is going on in here and...Malcolm? You and Richard?"
Malcolm was unflappable, he just said, relaxed like, "You said you didn't want me, so I took what I could get over here."
I took my courage from Malcolm, "Yeah, Yolanda, you said you had found someone better. That made Malcolm superfluous, so I took him."
"Superfluous?" Yolanda looked blank. "What the hell does that mean?"
I proudly defined it for her. "It means something that's unnecessary because you have too many of the item already. You have too many boyfriends and Malcolm was superfluous. So I took him off your hands."
Yolanda's mouth worked a few times, then she loosed a burst of inarticulate disgust and slammed the door shut.
"She going to tell your parents on us?" Malcolm asked.
"Nah! If she does, she has to explain why you came here in the first place," I said. "And I'll be happy to tell them why."
"Oh," Malcolm leaned back. "You got a nice place here, Richard. I got another five days to go until the fifteenth and I get paid. Mind if I crash here those five days?"
I snuggled in next to him and said, "Only if we keep doing what we just did."
"Well, of course I'd throw in that. In fact, I might even give it to you more'n once a night."
"Nice," I agreed and kissed him.
Those five nights were magical as they could be, but on the sixth and seventh nights, he didn't show up and I guessed he'd moved on to someone else or somewhere else. He'd never made any promises to me, so I shouldn't be mad, but I did feel kind of abandoned.
Then on the eighth night came a tap-tap-tap-tap-tap at my window and there was Malcolm! I opened the window and hugged him as he climbed in. "Where were you?" I asked as soon as I could.
"Moving in to my new place." he said.
"Where is it?"
"Up on the fourth floor," he said. "Didn't want to get too far away from the best ass I ever had."
"I'm so glad," I said, "Yolanda may have called you her superfluous boyfriend, but you are real, real necessary to me!"
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