CHAPTER XI

13:30

As soon as Branson had gotten home, he crashed out on the bed. Naomi peeled off his sweatshirt and he barely moved. He was out cold, emotionally and mentally exhausted. It wasn't until four o'clock that he began to stir again. The first thing anyone reaches for nowadays after waking is their phone. So, too, did Branson. When he realized he was laying on his stomach and the barrel of the handgun was pressing against his upper pubic area he turned over. Besides, niggas weren't supposed to lay on their stomach - that was gay. It was different if a nigga started off on his back and then wound up on his stomach, but you couldn't just decide to flip on your stomach to do shit, unless your head was over the side of the bed and you were vomiting.

The other gun was palpable at his lower back but wasn't as intrusive as in the other position. His stomach growled insistently in reaction to the savory smells coming from the kitchen. He was thinking about the future with his main chick and their child, already planning on what school they would send junior to, etc. All sorts of plans were running through his head. He decided to use the phone and made a call to his stepsister, Cynthia.

"Big bro," Cynthia answered almost immediately. Her voice brought back so many memories; mostly good ones, but there was always that one time... Even that had begun good, in a way - he pushed that to the deeper recesses of his recollection.

"Hey, sweetness. How you doing?"

"You finally remembered I'm alive, huh? Finally deigned to call me, right?"

"Nah, it ain't like that, Cyn-"

"Yeah, it's like that. At least Kingson calls every week, and I always think of you when he calls but it's not the same and you know it."

"Okay, okay then... Whatchu want me to do?" There was a brief silence.

"Just... Just try to be around, try to be in touch a little bit more, Branson." He reflected. Yes, he guessed he could do that.

"All right. No doubt. I can do that. But guess what?"

"Chicken butt!"

"Still with them dry ass jokes, right, babygirl?" The phone went silent again.

"Am I still your babygirl?" she asked, her voice... tentative.

"My original and forever babygirl."

"All right. So you said I should guess what, right?" Her voice resumed its normal cheeriness.

"Yeah."

"Okay, when?" She laughed. He rolled his eyes but had to smile.

"Keep going."

"Why?" Cynthia started laughing now, amused by how ired Branson could become whenever he asked a question and she responded with banal or inutile or insensible answers having nothing to do with the question at hand.

"I guess you don't wanna know when me and-"

Back at it again? The Voice in his head interrupted him. His lips became ashen and a small chill trickled down his spine. "Uh, guess you don't wanna know when me and Kingson coming through!"

"Ooh, you lying!" Cynthia exclaimed, excited to have such great news. She hadn't seen Branson in over a year - he kept far away from the family although he and Kingson consistently sent her money for herself and to take care of the needs of their parents.

"Okay, I'm lying. Now, guess what?"

"What already?"

"Chicken butt," he whispered exaggeratedly. Then he laughed and hanged up on her, putting his phone on Airplane Mode. She would be furious at him or she would try calling Kingson to find out. He got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face and rinse out his mouth with some mouthwash. He put the guns on his dresser as he made his way to the kitchen.

Naomi was serving the food on the plates as he walked up behind her. He stood there admiring her plump buttocks in his stretchy Tommy cotton boxers. Her ass was so round and juicy he had to squeeze it with one hand while steadying her hand carrying the plate with his other hand in case she dropped it out of startlement. She covered the pot and turned around, draping her arms over his shoulders.

"Hey, handsome," she mocked in greeting. "Or should I say 'Sleeping Beauty'?" He smiled as they kissed, taking the opportunity to cup and squeeze her ass again, and repeatedly. "Mmm," she murmured as the kissing suddenly became a heated affair. They continued kissing, except more fervently, their bodies heating up to the level of salacious intoxication. He picked her up and took her to the living room, her legs wrapped tight around him. Branson sat on a large sofa not against the wall, Naomi now straddling him. Their bodies were on fire and Branson wasn't trying to waste one more minute on foreplay. She struggled out of them stretchies but finally those glorious buttcheeks were freed. She put one knee on the couch and leaned down to kiss him as she lowered herself. He slid both his boxers and sweatpants off in one shot and held her by the waist, guiding her onto his throbbing dick. She slid down cautiously, not ready to take him fully into her. Branson removed her sports bra and began sucking on her titties, squeezing both, gently at first and then with increasing pressure.

Naomi was generating more moisture as she bobbed slowly up and down on him. Soon enough, she had produced enough liquid to cost his dick with and, holding his face to whichever breast he was sucking at any given time, she used her knees to push her up and down on the couch as she pressed her inner thighs against _his_ outer thighs, giving her leverage. She continued the rhythm, feeling his big dick fill her up and tickle the deepest recesses of her pussy again like it was the first time all over again. He pulled the back of her head, causing her to wince in surprise and pain as her face was towards the ceiling now. Continuing to him in such a position felt wonderful and her body caught fire in mounting expectation of release.

"I'm comin', daddy. I'm comin'! I'm about to come. I'm about to- oh, shit! Yes, baby oh put that dick in me, daddy. Keep that dick working inside me, papi." Papi? He looked up at her in surprise after releasing her hair and she giggled, bending her head forward to him. Her hair formed an occlusive mane around both of their heads as their tongues sworded one another, delving into each other's mouth passionately. She came, and the release was extraordinary. Her body twitched and hummed as if the largest organ of her body was singing. She pressed her lips back to his.

He grabbed ahold of the back of her neck with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He stood up with her and walked to a wall. Once there, he began to fuck her in near unrestrained passion, giving her powerful blows while they were both breathing air into and out of each other's lungs, wishing they could be one.

Her back became sweatier against the wall and he held her up by her thighs with an overhand grip, putting cock into her vagina like upper cuts. He fucked her until there was nothing but the pleasure, the in and motion, the skin on skin action, the delightfulness of pummeling her pussy. Their juices ran down his legs and he increased the tempo of his cock cramming its thickness into her tight crevice, expanding her until it was all she could do to hold onto his shoulders. The first tingle down his back and into his balls alerted him to his upcoming penile burst. She felt his knees tremble and gladly rested a bit from the battering she was taking.

His rhythm had slowed but the thrusting up went deeper, higher, deeper still, until Naomi was squeaking everytime he hammered upward. Her volcanic overflow had earlier pushed against the insistence of his member, a hardened, fleshy intrauterine device that could not be stopped by her extrusive juices. Rather, his irruptive ejaculation calmed her excitement as his riverine milkiness shot upstream and laminated the inside of her vagina, hundreds of millions of sperms jostling to be first into their intended destination. It was too bad she wasn't yet ovulating.