41. Month 3 Part 7

J. Month 3
Written By Laristopa .

Hey guys, sorry for the delay! We are still experimenting with AI illustrations for the story. Updates might not be as every other Thursday as before due to IRL situations, but we are aiming for it. So don’t forget to check out the site every Thursday. Thank you!

P.S. Please let us know what you think about this new illustration approach. We are considering going back to all stories and updates picture for a higher quality one, as well as renovating a new site. So the next update may be a little late than usual, but that’s because we don’t want to rush things. Hope you guys understand. :)

Back in the interior of the apartment, Candy immediately noticed the crew had vacated the center and crowded onto the fringes of the room near the discolored, smoke-damaged walls. Camera operators on each side stared into their handheld devices while bright lights warmed Candy’s skin and, despite the lack of clothing, caused her to begin sweating almost immediately. Logan lorded over the set in his towering director’s chair with his face cloaked in shadow and hardened with focus. A dozen or so sets of critically evaluating eyes were fixated on Candy, and she could feel each and every one. Daddy’s presence followed closely behind Candy with his leopard print coat sweeping through the threshold and slamming the front door behind him. 

Candy glanced down over her mountainous cleavage and saw her tiny, heeled feet standing squarely on the orange taped marker. She took a series of shallow breaths and bit her lip while the pulling sensation on her nipples continued. She gently ground her thighs together, detecting a musky female odor emanating from beneath her thong. With the extended length of her arousal, older fluids had begun to cool and congeal while hot and slick fluids were still forming, causing a mixture of female slurry to gum up her pussy like a sticky, horny honeycomb. 

“Alright, Cammi,” Logan began in his deep, punching voice, “Mr. Lawrence just picked you up from the beach, and you’re so grateful that you invited him in to fuck. Look happy, horny, and seductive because you’ve wanted his body since you first saw him, and this is your chance. And—action!”

Cammi instantly adopted a half-lidded, smoky expression while pushing her plump lips into a sultry pout and tossing back her silky blonde locks. She balanced her delicate hand lazily on her swollen hip, which she jutted to the side. Her other hand caressed between her legs, which she opened suggestively. She was determined to give a better, more organic performance than her last shoot.

Cammi ad-libbed over her shoulder in as breathy and sexy a coo as she could muster, “Mmm, thanks for, like, picking me up from the beach, Daddy. Is there any way I could repay you?”

Daddy responded with a hard crack on Cammi’s ass, adding another red handprint before shouting, “Ho, what the fuck is you talkin’ bout? Ain’t no beach on the street corner!”

Cammi gulped and attempted to respond with a surprised sputter, “I—um, okay—Daddy, I—”

Daddy grunted and pushed Cammi forward with both arms. She lurched into the middle of the floor with a squeal and caught herself on hands and knees. She arched her back into what felt like a natural position with her butt high in the air and her damp, barely contained pussy framed perfectly for the camera operator who was zooming in. The only thing separating the audience from her mewling womanhood was a thin cow-print triangle. Momentarily stunned and confused, Cammi quickly realized that Daddy was going off script and nobody was stopping him!

He aggressively tore his coat and hat off, throwing them towards the nearby couch. He stood confidently and proudly in a purple long-sleeve top and pants. 

Daddy glanced around critically and squinted into the lights before spitting on the floor and yelling, “Damn, ho, this really yo’ trailer? Looks like a total fuckin’ dump! No wonder you always actin’ like you a trailer trash skank; you livin’ it!”

From her position on the floor, Cammi swished her vision up towards Daddy, trying to maintain her sexy allure while ignoring the pain in her knees, forearms, and nipples. She couldn’t let Daddy’s words bother her. She told herself it was just a performance—he was just pretending to call her a trailer trash skank and to call her mother’s apartment a dump. He was just pretending! But, as Cammi stared up at Daddy with lust in her eyes and hunger between her thighs, she wasn’t sure if he was even aware there were cameras in the room. 

Cammi’s blonde tresses swept gently across the grimy linoleum while her heaving tits swayed and pulled heavily, straining and burdening her arched back with erect, protruding nipples mere centimeters away from scraping against the tile. 

Sweat beaded on her forehead, beneath a curtain of thick hair, and she licked her pouty lips to respond with a breathy, soprano chirp, “O-of course, Daddy! I, um, I like, sorta, NEED you inside me right now, okay?” 

Daddy scoffed and began rolling up his purple sleeves, revealing sinewy brown forearms, and staring down with a mixture of dark lust and contempt. 

Cammi gulped and watched as Daddy slipped his hand into his pocket. She moaned lightly, closed her eyes, and unconsciously shook her hips back and forth, losing herself in the pleasurable sensation tugging at her nipples. A stream of veiny black cocks flowed through her mind in a burst of explicit images, and she knew her arousal was quickly spiraling out of control. But it wasn’t too late to take back control! She had to rally herself and—

Daddy’s grip tightened around Cammi’s chin, and he forced her lips apart with an aggressive squeeze. Her eyes shot open with surprise as Daddy was suddenly standing directly in front of her with the tent of his erection at eye level. He pinched an eyedropper, and several drops of clear liquid landed in the back of Cammi’s mouth from a pipette in his hand. 

She reflexively swallowed, tasting a mildly bitter liquid as it trickled down her throat. She coughed and turned to sit on her butt once Daddy mercifully released his grip. 

Logan’s voice rang out, “What the fuck, David!? I told you no hood shit on my set!”

David dropped the vial in his pocket and responded towards Logan’s voice, “Party drugs ain’t hood shit, nigga, and we ‘bout to party.”

Cammi didn’t feel anything unusual as the drops settled in her stomach. She didn’t have time to properly react to swallowing an unknown substance before a new presence entered the lights. Silas lumbered over with a hunched back. His sickly pale visage was pockmarked with scars and open, weeping sores. He twitched around nervously. His mop of disheveled, greasy hair formed in clumps around his blatantly apparent bald spot. Despite being only in his late twenties, Silas looked like a man of forty. He wore a ratty pair of ill-fitting jeans around his skeletal hips and a red sleeveless tank top with a Confederate flag that hung off his rail-thin arms and sagging shoulders. Everything he wore looked at least two sizes too large, as if he’d lost weight at a rapid pace. 

He moved stiffly across the floor and croaked out with a dusty rasp, “H-hey, you leave my little sis alone. She’s not allowed to fuck Black men.”

His words sounded like a wooden attempt at acting—stilted and forced. He appeared to be following the script, carrying himself as if Daddy was actively participating in what he was supposed to be doing. 

When Silas got near, Daddy grabbed him aggressively by the shirt collar. Silas let out a puff of air, sounding like a deflating balloon as Daddy knocked the wind out of him and dragged him forward. 

Daddy glared down angrily and pressed his forehead into Silas’ while growling, “You got sumthin’ to say to me white boi?” 

Silas averted his gaze pathetically and gulped before sputtering, “Sh-she’s m-my sister, uh, sir. That’s all…”

Daddy used his free hand to palm Silas’ chin, just as he had to Cammi, and forced his head to turn towards his sister, who was sitting on her ass, starting to feel the effects of whatever drug Daddy had administered. Cammi’s pupils were beginning to dilate, and she felt her thoughts becoming distant and wispy. 

Daddy squeezed Silas’ chin harder as he shouted, “This ho ain’t nothin’ to you, you cracka ass motherfucka! She a slut fo’ black cock, that’s all she is! Ain’t that right, white boi?”

Silas’ withered frame, nervous demeanor, drugged-out appearance, disheveled clothing, low self-esteem, and lack of confidence clashed directly with Daddy, who was the exact opposite. Just like Cammi was the opposite of Daddy in every way, Silas, too, was as far from the overpowering, distinguished, and self-assured Black pimp as possible. Silas’ desire to follow his lines, his natural protective brotherly instincts, and any remaining self-worth shattered beneath Daddy’s scrutiny. He felt as worthless and trashy as he looked. 

Silas muttered into Daddy’s chest with his eyes averted submissively to the floor, “Y-yes, sir, she’s a—”

Despite everything working against him, Silas still hesitated. 

Daddy violently pushed Silas away and pulled him back, causing his skinny body to rattle like a skeleton. 

Daddy growled, “She what!? You honkey-ass, junkie-ass, pale motherfuckin’ bitch-boi! Say what she is!”

Forcing his trembling, broken body to sputter the answer out, Silas coughed loudly, “Sh-she’s a s-slut for black cock!”

Daddy released Silas’ collar and roughly pushed him to the side while issuing him a sharp order, “Kneel, white boi. Jerk yo’ pathetic, pale little cock while I stuff this ho’s white cunt with BBC.”

Daddy finished rolling up his shirt sleeves and began unbuckling his belt while Silas pathetically lowered onto the knees of his filthy, threadbare, ill-fitting jeans, trembling and averting his gaze like a submissive coward. Cammi would have felt bad for her poor brother, who had clearly gone way over his head and way out of his league, but she was too busy fading in and out of reality. Her perception was warping, and her thoughts and memories started flashing before her eyes like a series of television reruns playing out for casual perusal. She was able to watch these memories in real time, exactly as her brain recalled them. She laid on her back with her legs open, watching the pretty lights and taking a stroll down memory lane. The pulling sensation on her nipples and the heat between her legs were still present, but they felt distant and unimportant. 

Through the swirling memories laid out before her, Cammi squealed with delight when Daddy’s thick black cock burst through and she felt a tug on her underwear. Her big green eyes and dilated pupils watched as Daddy tore her soaked and nearly transparent cow-print thong from around her hips, shredding it into pieces. His jungle of wiry, dark pubic hair contrasted to her nubile smoothness, and her loopy mind swirled with fantasies of his rough pubes scratching her hairless mound as he mounted her. Her sticky, dewy vagina bloomed open invitingly with bright pink, puffy lips and a throbbing clit. Daddy parted Cammi’s hefty thighs, and the heavy scent of female arousal wafted outwards like a pungent garden. His black, rock-hard, twitching manhood pointed at her soft, pink, gushing womanhood, and she grew a dopey grin when his cockhead parted her labia with a wet *schlick*. 

From expressive green eyes, through strands of silky blonde hair, over a mountain of tit-flesh clad in skimpy cow-print, she watched in slow motion as Daddy’s fat cock was poised to plunge into her dribbling, yielding vagina. Its head was already swallowed by hungry labia, but the memories replaying around Daddy’s dominant body and confident, possessive grin were reforming. 

Cammi shuddered, and her eyes suddenly widened as some deep, dormant personality stirred and unlocked in the cloudy haze of hallucinogenic delusion. One memory played before her like a movie, but…it seemed to be from somebody else’s perspective. Somebody…tall? All at once the experience rushed back to her.

Candy looked down his broad chest and collared shirt at the smoky-eyed young woman who pulled him by his hand towards a fluffy pink bed. Her eyes held a devious glint in the dim light, and her teenage features were tastefully enhanced by sparse makeup. An expensive green party dress swished around her hips, and Candy remembered the nervous but palpable lust he felt for her as he mentally prepared for his first sexual experience. He remembered…oh, what was her name again? Jasmine…? Yeah, it was Jasmine! He remembered Jasmine’s room as an upper-middle-class, typical rich white girl room: spacious and clean with expensive furniture, a big bed, abundant clothes, and state-of-the-art electronics placed where they should be—everything fit her high status.

Chrissy hadn’t come from a poor family or anything, but he’d never had THIS kind of money growing up. With Jasmine’s parents gone for the evening and Chrissy successfully smuggled in without Jasmine’s housekeeper or siblings aware of his presence, there were no more excuses. He was finally going to get laid! Chrissy let go of Jasmine’s hand, suddenly aware of how sweaty and clammy it was. He was so nervous! He just had to play it cool, so he took a heavy breath and ran his hands down his narrow hips to dry his hands on his loose khakis. Jasmine shifted over to her bedside table and slid open the drawer, retrieving a condom. The blue package crinkled between her dainty fingers, and Chrissy felt his stomach drop. This was really happening!!

With all the confidence he could muster, Chrissy remembered striding across the floor and embracing Jasmine in a strong hug. He felt her comparatively tiny body press against him, and his heart fluttered. He could feel her excitement and nervousness mirroring his—she wanted this too! He dipped down to deliver the kiss that he knew would start a chain reaction leading to his penis inside her. Chris’ sparse facial scruff scratched against her as their lips met and she pressed her soft breasts against him. A gentle push was all it took for Jasmine to fall onto her back and onto the bed. Chris’s mind raced, and the thoughts excited him. She invited him here, she wanted him here, she wanted him to fuck her in the bed her parent’s bought her, in the bed she slept in every night. He’d come like a conquerer to claim her virginity, her pussy, her maidenhood, and her innocence. Chris felt his erection throbbing with primal masculine lust while he slowly lifted Jasmine’s dress, meeting her eye and sharing a horny if not anxious expression. Chris’ fingers traced up Jasmine’s smooth, supple thighs when—

Chrissy gasped. The illusion was momentarily dispelled, and Daddy’s dick began slipping between her slippery folds. 

“The fuck?” Daddy grunted before stopping and speaking again, “Ain’t no way.”

Chrissy winced and felt a stinging pain between her legs as Daddy withdrew. She glanced over her cleavage and saw a light layer of red coating the top of Daddy’s shaft and tip. 

Daddy looked down, bewildered, with his forty-something face contorted in confusion, “Ain’t no fucking way yo’ skanky ass is a virgin. I seen’t you fuckin’ tons’a niggas!”

Chrissy turned her head and saw Silas in the dark corner stroking his grody little cock over the waistband of his dirty jeans. His gaunt, sore-riddled face seemed confused as well, but he kept jerking off regardless. The bright lights filled her with warmth, and the shadowy cameraman zoomed in on the bloody honeycomb between her open legs. 

Jasmine’s bedroom materialized once again in Chrissy’s vision as Daddy hesitated and sorted it out. 

Chrissy’s fingers crept up Jasmine’s thighs. They became warmer and wetter as he neared her vagina. She was aroused and ready for him! Chris expected to find some panties, but Jasmine wasn’t wearing any! His finger crudely brushed against her bare vagina, and he ran it up and down her needy lips, feeling her arousal wet against his skin. He pulled his hand away and smelled her lust on his glistening finger as he fumbled with his belt. His mind raced. She hadn’t been wearing panties all night! The whole dance, the whole dinner—beneath that dress she’d been naked! She’d planned to have sex with him all along! He felt desired, he felt special, and he felt virile and powerful! 

Chris’ twitching cock sprang out, pointing between Jasmine’s open legs like a heat-seeking missile. She sat up slightly to get a better view, and her eyes opened wide when she finally saw his manhood. The only thing separating their genitals and the only thing separating them from becoming sexually active people was a foot of air. They could both feel the moment. Life was about to change. He moved forward and—

Daddy thrusted into Chris’ vagina, pulling her from the memory. The stinging she had experienced during the first thrust was dulled significantly and lessened with each subsequent entry. Daddy started slow but quickly picked up his pace. The blood was evenly distributed down his shaft. He couldn’t quite get down to the hilt, as Chrissy’s cervix was taking a beating, but he was relatively close.

Chrissy moaned into the smoke-damaged ceiling as her guts were filled with black cock, and visions of hard black dicks flashed through her mind. The memory of Jasmine’s bedroom, of a persona on the brink of extinction and dredged up by hallucinogenics, materialized once again while Daddy continued slamming Chrissy’s cunt.

Chris moved forward with his long cock, fully erect and pointing towards Jasmine’s drooling pussy. Her dress was bunched up, while Chris had his khakis around his knees. Chris shook his head as the already dim lighting in the room seemed to get dim and bright, dim and bright, as if some distant heartbeat or rhythm was gently influencing the scene. The walls shook as the lights faded in and out.

He—he remembered… his medium-sized dick, hard and pointing towards Jasmine’s relatively dry pussy. He was sure she’d get wet once they started having sex. His skinny jeans and briefs were bunched around his knees, just as Jasmine’s dress was bunched up around her somewhat curvy hips. 

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

Chrissy noticed the pink sheets on the bed were a little lower quality, and the room looked a little smaller and less clean than he remembered. As memory served, Jamie’s family was decently well-off, but not super rich. He pulled Jamie closer, finding that moving her was more challenging with lower muscle mass. Chrissy’s loose-fitting shirt hid his relatively sparse upper body, a trait he’d always been a little ashamed of. What kind of man had arms and shoulders like these? Wanting to make sure she was still ready, he reached his hand up Jamie’s skirt. Her decently muscular thighs were always something Chrissy admired. Jamie was a star on the volleyball team after all! When he found her completely dry vagina inside her normal cotton panties, Chrissy felt a mild rush of sadness. He thought she’d be into this! His finger brushed against her simple panties, and he felt her clit—it was hard! 

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

Chrissy stepped forward and laid down next to Jamie. The room was even smaller and now featured a huge pile of dirty clothes in the corner and an outdated laptop on a desk where the paint was peeling. Jamie’s folks had always been staunchly middle class. The pink bed was smaller than Chrissy remembered, probably somewhere around a full size. Flipping his chin-length hair, Chrissy reached out and held Jamie. He still had his tight shorts around his knees and his limp cock and tiny balls hanging between his legs. He needed to get hard if he wanted to lose his virginity! Chrissy’s soft chest pressed against Jamie, who had almost no breasts or feminine curves to speak of. She was a mixed-race jock. Her mocha-colored body was so muscular that Chrissy was sure she had to be taking steroids. She was more muscular and almost as hairy as Chrissy was! Such a competitor! Either way, Jamie had what he wanted between her legs! Chrissy reached towards Jamie but stopped as Jamie’s hand met his halfway through and pushed back. Chrissy let Jamie take control and reach up to fondle his cock. Feeling her muscled arms and rough fingers from hundreds of hours of volleyball sent a shockwave through his body, and he felt himself getting hard. Chrissy pulled at Jamie’s blue jeans, which were still around her relatively straight hips. He needed to get her jeans off if they were ever going to do this!

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

Jamie hopped off Chrissy’s bed. The cheap sheets scratched at Chrissy’s exposed ass with his tiny short shorts and panty-like briefs bunched around his knees and his sissy little cock nestled between his smooth thighs. His family had always been lower middle class, so the squealing of the bedsprings was no surprise, and neither was the musty smell that seemed to permeate the whole house. 

Jamil flexed her muscled upper body in her tight t-shirt, and Chrissy let out an ‘ooooh’ and reached his androgynous hands to caress Jamil’s tight, nearly non-existent breasts. Jamil grinned and shot a hand between Chrissy’s thighs. Jamil’s rough finger rubbed furiously at Chrissy’s dicklet, and he squirmed back against the mattress, his shoulder-length hair serving as a halo around his face. He bit his lip and tasted the lip gloss he’d begun wearing. His puffy chest jiggled lightly as he moaned and giggled into the low ceiling. 

Jamil tore off her belt, and her baggy jeans dropped along with her boxer shorts. Her clit throbbed out, almost two inches in length and fully erect, while her labia hung heavy beneath it, looking like two fleshy sacks. Chrissy had always been a little weirded out by his girlfriend's unusual vagina, but she was so protective and overlooked Chrissy’s poor background and lack of manliness that he was ready to lose his virginity to her. He wasn’t sure if Jamil was a virgin, but he’d find out soon enough!

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

Jamil’s bare cock pointed towards Chrissy like a heat-seeking missile. His deeply tanned thighs were open with his shriveled ballsack hanging between them. His short, black hair framed his somewhat masculine features. His dark eyes drank in Chrissy like a sponge. Chrissy used her soft hands to free her breasts from their blouse prison. With her pink skirt hiked up around her decently curvy hips, her panties pulled down to her knees, her tits hanging out, her face properly made up, and her mom out of the trailer, she was fully ready for Jamil to finally seal the deal and fuck her! She was pretty sure Jamil wasn’t a virgin like she was, but it was more special for a girl’s first time anyway! Her exposed vagina was inexperienced and dry; she hoped Jamil would be gentle with her!

Chrissy felt a little embarrassed by her room with the stale, musty odor of the old trailer, the creak of the twin-sized bed, the low ceiling, and the dirty laundry and trash, but Jamil didn’t seem to mind. He was on the basketball team and one of the better lovers—at least, the girls at school told Chrissy he was. If she could bag him as a boyfriend, she could probably make some moves in the social hierarchy! What was he waiting for? 

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

Chrissy giggled on her back as Jamil’s finger probed her decently wet pussy. Her heavy tits flowed freely over the top of her dress, which was hiked up around her swollen hips. She hadn’t bothered with panties, understanding that the point of the night was to get Jamil back to the trailer for sex. Jamil’s baggy pants, basketball shorts, and boxers were pooled on the floor, which was pockmarked with stains, laundry, burn marks, trash, and discarded food. Candy never bothered cleaning up; she only came here for sex and sleep. What was the point of cleaning it up? 

Candy brushed her long hair from her face and looked over her tits to see Jamaul’s dark, muscular, hairy legs approaching. His fat BBC was throbbing in his hand, and his balls hung low and heavy. A long vein ran up the side, and the head was bulbous and dripping with pre-cum. This was definitely not Jamaul’s first experience, and Candy knew he knew it wasn’t her first either. This was just two high schoolers fooling around and having fun; nothing wrong with that! 

She felt the heavy makeup coating her eyes along with the false lashes. She’d gone all out on this date tonight; he had better deliver an orgasm or two!

Jamaul grinned and held onto Candy’s hips, pointing his virile cock directly at her puffy entrance.

Dim, bright, dim, bright.

“Fifty for you, babe.” Candy cooed from her lying position on the squeaky bed, her swollen lips pressed into a rehearsed pout. 

Jamaul swaggered towards her confidently while she opened her thick thighs, revealing her perfectly soaked, swollen pussy lips. Candy’s clit poked out just above her tight entrance while her heavy tits overflowed her skimpy microdress. 

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.” The young basketball stud asserted while chuckling and whipping out his fat black cock and rolling on a condom. 

Cammi didn’t blame him; he was an up-and-coming NBA draft prospect. Fucking a high school dropout’s whore pussy in a filthy motel could really become a problem nine months down the road. As his blue-covered black cock penetrated Cammi’s well-used cunt, Cammi giggled, knowing she would have fucked his BBC for free. 

The memory snapped to the back of her mind, forever changed and corrupted. Very little of that old persona remained in Cammi’s head, and one of its final remaining anchors, a foundational experience for a young man, was just dissolved away and turned into…another client for a whore, barely worthy of recalling. Dropping out and being used as one of Daddy’s regular girls at the motel was suddenly something Cammi remembered doing quite often, and all those experiences simply bled together. She’d supported herself and her family by lying on her back and taking it in every hole—at least until these big movie roles started rolling in!

Cammi’s vision cleared, and she immediately felt an explosion of arousal and heat bursting from her pussy like an avalanche. She’d been lost in a random, unimportant memory, but the dick inside her was real—and really about to bust! Daddy’s face was scrunched, and he growled as his thrusts became shallow. He was buried between Cammi’s creamy thighs, slapping into her pelvis like a mad beast. Her cleavage bounced wildly and dripped with sweat, which trailed down onto her cinched waist. Her hair was matted to her face, and her makeup was running. 

“Stupid fuckin’ white slut! Take my big black cumshot, ho!” Daddy grunted.  

Daddy pulled Cammi down onto his cock by her hips, and she screamed into the ceiling. She felt the pressure of his hands gripping her hips, and she watched as his hefty black balls contracted and began unloading into her cervix. Unlike many of her clients or other sexual partners, Daddy didn’t stop once he busted, and despite actively depositing his wad, Daddy’s pace actually started to increase. His red-tinted shaft glistened with combined male and female fluids. 

Cammi turned her head to her brother, who was watching intently with horny desperation in his eyes and furiously beating his little cock. 

He croaked out between staggered gasps, “C-cream on that BBC, little sis. Show that Black bull how much your pussy loves African dick.”  

Cammi tore the triangles of her bikini away and began pinching her rock-hard nipples between her tiny fingers with their extra-long acrylic nails. She bucked her hips back against Daddy’s thrusts, enveloping him as deeply as possible. His testicles continued to unload inside her while her ass repeatedly squished up and down against the tile, and she forcefully impaled her vagina on his ejaculating penis. 

Daddy’s sputtering cock was pounding directly against her cervix at the perfect angle, and, combined with her nipple play, Cammi felt herself getting close to an orgasm. The film crew zeroed in on every detail and watched as Cammi moaned into the ceiling and crested release. She scrunched her tiny feet in her heels and pulled at her nipples, which were thick and hard in her hands with blue veins running across her darker areola. The sweat poured down, Daddy continued to pound, black cocks filled her brain, and it all quickly became too much. Cammi moaned and felt a pressure in her nipples as an orgasm rippled across her body. Her pussy tightened around Daddy’s cock, milking the last few drops of virile semen and renewing his pleasured cries. 

As her body and vagina convulsed, small beads of white liquid formed at the tips of her nipples. She felt the pressure suddenly increase exponentially and explode outwards as streams of milk spurted from Cammi’s teats. The streams leaked from her tiny milk ducts and coated her fingers. She continued to knead and tug, coaxing more and reveling in the release of pressure. She was lactating! In addition to wetting her fingers, the streams dribbled down her globular tits and stained the cow-print bikini top that she had pulled down. 

“Oh fuck, oh man!” Silas whimpered. 

Daddy began removing his softening dick with a *squelch* as he craned his neck up to issue an order, “Thas right, white boi, bust that useless white seed on the fuckin’ floor. Ain’t goin’ in no white pussy! White pussy fo’ nigga babies now, mothafucka!”

Cammi heard a pathetic soft *splat* as Silas’ inferior white seed was spilled across the disgusting tile floor. She giggled, imagining his limp little dicklet farting out some useless, watery “semen.” 

“Just what is going on here? Did you have sex with my daughter?” A loud, haughty female voice sounded, cutting Cammi from her high. 

The camera turned to capture Linda as she stepped into the lights. She wore an extremely tight pair of bright pink spandex shorts and a white tank top that dipped low enough to show off a long line of cleavage. Her cellulite-riddled legs and ass were mostly bared, and the pink spandex was visibly eaten up by her mature pussy. The tank top covered her belly, which was noticeably soft and matronly. Her hips stretched the shorts to their limit, and she stood on five-inch heels. Her dark hair was loose, and her bingo wings were hanging below her arms like pudding. Her face was covered in slutty makeup, and she was wearing a very fake angry expression. 

Daddy turned his head to address Linda with a shocked look on his face. His softening, red-tinged dick glistened with combined juices, and a line of fluid connected the tip of his penis directly to Cammi’s vagina, which was overflowing with a very obviously recent creampie. 

“Don’t know what you mean, Miss Valentine.” Daddy said while shrugging. Daddy was clearly acting now. 

Linda put her mature hands on her matronly hips and waddled forward while offering a horrible performance. She pointed between Cammi’s legs while stating, “Don’t you ‘Miss Valentine’ me, Mr. Lawrence! I can see your black seed dripping from her! My little girl is fucking black guys in MY trailer!? I can’t have my daughter giving birth to Black babies!”

Linda waddled closer, her heels clicking on the tile. Cammi looked into the lights and saw her early 50s mother approaching with a ‘disappointed’ grimace on her face. The pink shorts looked almost like a tiny thong wrapped around her bulbous lower body. Daddy held his sopping dick in his hand and squeezed up and down its length, depositing a few final pearls onto Cammi’s pubic mound. 

Linda yelled at Silas, who was buttoning his pants in shame, “And you, where the hell were you? Your sister gets defiled by a disgusting Black man, and you’re just over here jerking off! You’ll never get me a grandchild, will you? Useless!” Linda pulled a hair tie from her wrist and began tying up her hair as she looked down at Cammi and spoke, “Looks like I’ll have to use my tongue to stop my daughter from becoming a single mother.”

Cammi looked over her milk-stained tits and fingers to watch Linda between her quivering legs. Linda examined her daughter’s overflowing snatch and offered faux disgust. 

She scoffed, “I can’t believe you gave your flower away to a Black dick! Damnit Cammi, you weren’t supposed to be a BBC addict like your momma!” She sighed and added softly, “Don’t wanna get my clothes dirty, I guess.”

Linda lifted her tank top from her body, and her mature tits flopped out. She pulled at the shorts, which were wedged between various folds, and stepped out of them, uncovering a faded black spade tattoo, which was displayed on her left hip. She was left wearing only heels with her hair in a ponytail. Linda’s breasts were now smaller than her daughter’s, but they sagged down to her stomach, and her nipples and areolae were dark and wide. She has a noticeable stomach paunch with wispy, silvery lines indicative of stretch marks from pregnancies past. Her mature vagina was all flaps and roast beef with a coarse black and silver bush, which was nestled between cellulite-riddled thighs. The beginning of varicose veins dotted her chunky legs, and wrinkles abounded. 

Linda dropped to her hands and knees, presenting her mature body for the cameras, which were catching the scene from every angle. She wrapped her soft arms around Cammi’s thighs and bent down, keeping her ass up in the air. Cammi shifted her hips to allow better access. If they were going this route, she was prepared to go all the way. It wasn’t as if Linda hadn’t caught her having sex a hundred times. They had even shared partners in the past. What was the difference, really?

Linda extended her tongue and made contact with her daughter’s leaking creampie. Cammi let out a pleasured “ooooh” as her mother’s tongue danced along her daughter’s most sensitive lips. Slurping and swallowing, Linda buried her face and flicked her chin up and down, swirling around Cammi’s clit before flipping her tongue back and forth in a zig-zag pattern. Cammi closed her eyes and gently shook her hips, trying to imagine Daddy was the one eating her out. It had nothing to do with her mother specifically, but women in general were sexually unappealing to her. 

Cammi renewed her pulling, tugging, and pinching on her nipples. Her expressed milk had begun to dry but slowly started beading up again as her arousal grew. Lewd licking and slurping noises sounded between Cammi’s legs, and Linda’s whole body undulated as she put maximum effort into munching her daughter’s box. She scooped deeply into Cammi’s vaginal canal, extracting every morsel of semen her hungry tongue could find. Cammi’s clit filled with blood within her mother’s swirling tongue as she imagined Daddy and even Logan lapping at her pussy. Each repetition sent new spikes of pleasure in arcing bursts all across her body. Thin streams of milk dribbled beneath Cammi’s fingers as Linda’s tongue flicked against her clit while she simultaneously inserted two fingers and roughly fingerbanged her daughter. It wasn’t long before the fantasy of hung Black men eating her out, the tongue expertly lapping at her engorged clit, the fingerbanging done just right, and the lactating nipple tweaking made Cammi once again crest an orgasm. Her pussy contracted around her mother’s tongue, and she sighed into the low ceiling while her legs quivered uncontrollably. A renewed burst of milk spurted beneath her fingers and flowed down, pooling beneath her back.  

Cammi’s whole body convulsed as she opened her eyes and saw her mother standing up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She saw the briefest glimpse of Linda’s mature cunt, which was, itself, glistening with a sticky strand hanging from her labia like an icicle. Cammi’s eyes narrowed. Was her mother getting off to swallowing black seed from her daughter’s pussy? 

Logan clapped his hands together, yelled “Cut,” and hopped up from his chair with a grin while Linda began dressing. Linda wore a contented smile and shimmied into her tiny shorts and stretched the tank top over her sagging chest. Once her clothes were back in place, Linda waddled across the linoleum and held her hand out for her daughter, who was still recovering on her back. Candy sat up and accepted her mother’s help, getting to her feet with a strained groan. Her legs were weak and shaky after multiple orgasms, and her head was still spinning from the unknown drugs leaving her system. Using Linda as a momentary crutch, Candy felt the cool air where she had just been licked clean. 

“You did so good, honey. I’m so proud of you,” Linda whispered with a raspy cough, her breath smelling like cum and sex.

“Like, thanks, Mom.” Candy retorted. 

Through the bright lights, the crew crossed into the room, and the sound of applause rang out. Candy grinned and struck a feminine pose, excited to receive the crew's attention. Her lower body was completely nude, and her gigantic tits dripped beads of milk while hanging over her bikini top. She performed a little curtsey and pulled up the skimpy triangles, covering her nipples and forgetting to worry about her suddenly lactating mammaries. She had attention to bask in!

Logan hurried forward with a grin plastered on his face. Brad followed closely behind with his eyes downcast. 

Logan turned and frowned while addressing Brad with cold indifference, “Hey, idiot, get her something to cover up with and stop being lazy.”

Brad nodded and mumbled with an almost hypnotic subservience, “Yes, sir, sorry, Mr. Masters.”

Brad jogged away, and Logan’s grin returned. He clapped his hands together excitedly and looked Candy up and down before speaking, “That was a fantastic performance, Ms. Swallows, even better than the first!”

Candy preened her hair and thanked him vacuously. Logan broke into a long monologue, assuring Candy this was just the beginning, this was just the second of many ‘films,’ and that she was ‘going places.’ Candy listened and nodded passively, excited by the prospect of continued stardom but still navigating misgivings about her memories and body. She considered the memory of Jamaul fucking her in her bedroom a strange one to have randomly pop in her head while filming. It was pleasant enough, but why was she thinking about it all of a sudden? Candy shifted her hips and frowned at the mild stinging sensation within her anatomy. Why had Daddy referred to her as a virgin? She remembered countless sexual encounters with men, just like Daddy said, so there shouldn’t be bleeding and pain. Contemplating her supposed virginity reminded Candy about her suspiciously active milk ducts. Logan continued talking, but Candy’s thoughts were centered on her body. Was this Dr. Frank’s doing, or was she just having some sort of hormonal issue? 

Her thoughts skittered away when Brad returned holding a pink silk robe. Sweat poured down his face. 

“About time,” Logan growled at Brad while snatching the garment from his grasp and adding, “Go help break down the equipment and take your supplements.” 

Brad cast a longing glimpse at the nearly naked body of Candy before turning and joining the other crew members who were busy packing away lights. 

Logan signed and held the robe towards Candy, “Here you go, Cammi. Don’t worry about Bradley bothering you. I’m training him to be more…docile. It seems he’ll do anything to stay close to you.”

Accepting the robe and sliding it around her body, Candy simply offered a smile, unsure what Logan meant. The robe barely covered to mid-thigh and strained around her milky breasts. It was bright pink with a darker pink fringe and ‘SWALLOWS’ shining across the back in rhinestones. The robe didn’t exactly match with her black heels, but at least her body had some modesty. 

“Let’s get the fuck outta here, Cammi.” Logan said while turning away. 

Logan led Candy towards the door, determined to leave the disgusting apartment and begin the process of poring over the film. Linda sidled up next to her daughter while Silas stayed several paces behind, his drug-addled face and withered shoulders hung in shame. 

But as the group neared the door, it suddenly burst open with a *BANG*. A powerfully built, middle-aged Italian man stomped through with his hands closed into fists and angry determination burning in his eyes. He wore dark slacks, a gray button-up shirt, and black leather shoes. Hiding behind him was the sneering old woman that Candy had previously encountered in the hallway. Her calculating gaze shifted around the room, and a knowing smile flashed a mouthful of slightly yellowed teeth. Her aged body wore a fluffy white blouse and a black pencil skirt with two-inch black heels.

Logan stopped in his tracks, standing just a few feet in front of the door. The crew also stopped what they were doing, turning to discover the origin of the loud bang. 

The man’s deep voice filled the room as he boomed, “What the fuck is going on here? A film crew in my building?” His gaze shifted around rapidly, and his eyes found Candy, who was frozen with fear. “Are you filming porn in here? It smells like trash mixed with sex, and this bitch is dressed like a whore! And why are there plates stacked to the ceiling—and are those COCKROACHES!? Where is this Chrissy or Cammi or whoever!? This is grounds to immediately terminate the lease!”

Linda stepped forward, her smoky rasp sounding frightened. “Mr. Bonatz—this is, um, this is how we’re trying to get the money to, um, pay your rent, sir.”

Mr. Bonatz shook his head and pointed around the room. “I don’t give a fuck why you’re doing any of this! You were already months behind on payments and out of here next week, but you know what? I want everybody out of here, NOW! That goes for you too, Christi or Cammi or whoever you are! You are gone!”

Linda croaked, “But—but, sir, what about our belongings? I want to—”

Mr. Bonatz interrupted, “Oh, I’ll get all this shit out onto the sidewalk before you know it; don’t you worry about that! Get whatever crap you need RIGHT NOW and GET OUT!”

A flurry of activity followed Mr. Bonatz’ words. Logan, not wanting any trouble after Mr. Bonatz threatened to ‘call his friends at the court,’ took control of his crew and collected their equipment in record time. Mr. Bonatz and the old woman watched from the side, whispering to one another. The sly grin and calculation in her eyes never wavered. Candy, Linda, and Silas ran to their respective rooms and feverishly collected what they could. Candy tossed makeup, random clothing, and her special toys into a black garbage bag.  It was only a few short minutes before Mr. Bonatz popped his head through the door threshold and growled that her time was up while he eyed the messy room with disgust. 

Taking one last breath of perfumed air, Candy lifted the two garbage bags she had managed to slap together and tottered over to Mr. Bonatz, who looked at her curvy, scantily clad body lustfully. She tried to ignore thoughts about all the items and personal effects she hadn’t managed to collect and hoped they would be returned to her quickly. Mr. Bonatz pointed to the front door, and Candy dutifully followed his direction, smelling his strong, masculine cologne as she passed. 

The crew looked on with pity as the Valentine family was evicted from their disgusting apartment in embarrassing fashion. Linda had tears streaking down her face while hefting a clothes hamper filled with personal belongings. She sobbed and apologized to her kids for being a failure as a mother. Candy tried to soothe her, but found no words were getting through. Silas shouldered his large garbage bag of items and took his mother’s burden as well, offering no encouragement. Entering the musty hallway, the Valentine family and the crew finally passed the smiling old woman. Something about her was disconcerting, but Candy couldn’t place her finger on it.

Behind her, Candy could hear the sound of banging as Mr. Bonatz began aggressively tearing down whatever remained. With only a scant collection of items to her name and no place to live, Candy worried about what would happen next for her family. She lifted her gaze to Logan, who was far ahead, and wondered if he could help. Surely he would give his rising star and her family a place to live! 

Candy sighed, looking down at her skimpy silk robe as wet spots appeared over her nipples and milk dripped down her mountainous tits. He had to help them, right?

Laristopa .
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40.5 Merry Christmas!