Baller: An Interracial MMA Stepbrother Romance (17 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

Julius

This shit was weird. As horny and turned on as he was, even Jules had to admit that.

But he was naked, and his balls ached, and the head of his painfully-stiff cock was already nuzzling at the entrance to this beautiful English girl’s pussy.

Unable to restrain himself, he grasped her slender hips, and thrust slowly and inexorably inside her.

“Oh, fuuuuuuck,” Sally groaned, her spine stiffening as she felt herself stretched and filled by Jules’ enormous cock. “Oh, shit, Manny…” She stretched out a hand, and her boyfriend grabbed and squeezed it. “Oh, shit, he’s splitting me in half!”

“
Heilige Scheiße!
” Manfred gasped. “That looks so fucking sexy. That big, black dick going inside you.” He was rubbing his straining cock now. “Oh, fuck.”

And then, stepping in front of his girlfriend, Manfred grabbed a fistful of her chocolate-brown hair, and jerked her head up until his cock was pointed directly at her face.

Sally Fox, that pale and perfect little English rose, eagerly opened her mouth and engulfed the tip of Manfred’s straining cock.

“Oh, shiiiit,” Jules groaned, as he watched the girl he was fucking take another cock, from the other end. “Yo, you two are fucking
freaky
.”

Not that he cared. Not that he was able to process anything much, really, apart from the delicious tightness of Sally’s pussy.

Jules was buried up to the balls inside her now, and as he grasped her slender waist, he started to fuck her in earnest.

To pound a tiny little white girl like this? It was like being in his own personal porn movie. Looking down and seeing his big, black cock slide in and out from between her pert, pale ass cheeks was almost enough to send him spurting inside of her.

“D-don’t hold back,” Manfred was groaning, as Sally eagerly sucked and slurped on his cock. “Blow your load in her.
Despoil her
.” Jules wasn’t even sure what ‘despoil’ meant. “Treat her like a little cumbucket, you magnificent black bastard.”

And it was the ridiculousness of those last three words that tipped Jules over the edge.

Thrusting as deeply inside the moaning little white girl as possible, Jules squeezed shut his eyes, moaned hotly, and felt his cock swell, and throb, and finally spurt deep inside her.

“Mmmppph!” Mouth full of cock, Sally could do nothing but mumble and moan as she felt herself flooded by his hot spurts. “Mmmmph!”

Scalding spurt after spurt filled her, until Jules’ balls were drained, and he slumped to one side with a satisfied groan.

His softening cock slithered from Sally’s plundered pussy; followed by a deluge of hot cum that gushed down her thighs like a pearlescent river.

“Oh,
ja
,” Manfred groaned, as he watched the black stranger unload himself inside his girlfriend. “Let me see.” And then he grabbed a fistful of Sally’s hair, and pulled her mouth from his cock. “Let me see,
du kleine Schlampe!”

Sally slumped onto the bench, gasping and groaning, with saliva drooling down her chin. She squeaked in protest, as Manfred manhandled her; tossing her onto her back, and hoisting up her legs like she was a rag doll.

An ankle in each hand, Manfred spread Sally’s legs, and peered eagerly at her freshly-fucked, cum-filled cunt.

His cock, glistening with her saliva, throbbed.

“You are such a little slut,” Manfred groaned, reaching down to scoop up a dribble of Jules’ cum from her cunt. “Look at this?” And then he thrust his glistening fingers into her face, and without even thinking about it, Sally leaned forward and licked them clean.

“Damn, girl,” Jules’ eyes widened. “That’s
nasty
.”

But neither of them were listening now. In fact, it was like Jules wasn’t even in the room.

Manfred and Sally were locked eye-to-eye, like teenage lovers. He was crawling on top of her, as she lay on the bench with her legs spread and her dress hiked up around her waist.

Grasping the root of his straining cock, Manfred nuzzled it against the cum-filled entrance to her freshly fucked pussy – and then thrust.

“Oh, fuuuuuck,” Sally’s arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s shoulders as the German’s thick cock slid inch-by-inch inside of her.

“You little
slut
,” Manfred spat in her face, and then kissed her. “I fucking
adore
you, you little whore.” And then he started to fuck her, hard and fast, until the bench creaked in protest.

Jules just stood there, watching with amazement.

Manfred hammered into his willing girlfriend, and she clung to him like a limpet. In just a few seconds, she was clawing at his back, and then she came loudly and wetly as he ground against her.

“Maybe I should have let you cum on
his
cock,” Manfred teased her, kissing Sally wetly. “Would you like that, you little whore?”

“N-no, just yours,” Sally groaned, sinking her teeth into his bare shoulder. “Oh, fuck… Just you, baby. Just you…” And then she came again.

In fact, Manfred had fucked her to three orgasms by the time he approached his climax.

By then he was like a beast, pounding her and pinning her to the bench like a helpless fuck-toy.

One of his powerful hands curled around her throat, and he choked her mercilessly. The other squeezed one of her small, pert breasts.

She came again, gurgling as she struggled to breath.

And it was that sound that tipped Manfred over the edge.

Groaning, he sunk deeply inside his moaning girlfriend, and exploded.

Scalding hot spurts filled her, as she took her second load of cum in as many minutes.

Her fifth and final orgasm was totally involuntary.

And only after long, sweaty minutes – as they both shuddered in the sweet release of orgasm – did reality begin to set in again.

Manfred looked up, seeing Jules staring at them both awkwardly.

The German coughed awkwardly, pulling his softening cock from his girlfriend’s plundered depths. She squeaked, slapping a hand between her legs as his cum joined the rest dribbling out of her.

“S-sorry about that,” Manfred grinned guilty, as he helped Sally up into a sitting position. “We get a little… carried away.”

Jules snorted, scratching his drained balls.

“Brother, as long as you’re offering to let me be the chocolate filling in your girlfriend’s cookie sandwich,” he purred, “you can get as carried away as you like.”

“
Sehr gut
,” the German grinned eagerly. Because we might decide to spend the night in Hartford tomorrow. And maybe you’ll be up for an encore performance.”

Chapter Fifty-Four

Hannibal

The big Bentley slewed to a halt in the
Chili’s
parking lot, leaving two black rubber trails across the asphalt.

Hannibal Alexander leapt out, and crossed the parking lot in three long strides.

He wrenched open the door to the restaurant and disappeared inside. Moments later, he came storming out – dragging with him Kristen.

“W-where are you taking me?” She was half-laughing, half anxious, as Hannibal dragged her to the Bentley, and wrenched open the passenger door. “What’s gotten into you…?”

But it wasn’t what had gotten into
him
that was the issue.

Throwing her onto the leather seat, Hannibal clambered into the car with Kristen, and started pulling down her yoga pants.

“Holy shit,” red-faced, Kristen peered anxiously out of the window as Hannibal yanked her pants and panties down around her knees. “It’s broad daylight, you maniac! And I’m only on break for another five minutes!”

And then she yelped, as Hannibal flipped her over, shoved her face-first between the seats, and positioned himself behind her.

Kristen moaned hotly, as her stepbrother’s big, black dick was thrust inside her.

“Holy shit,” she groaned, gripping the seat as Hannibal roughly fucked her in the parking lot. “W-what’s gotten into you?” And then she moaned – because she was young, and horny, and it was difficult to ignore the best part of a foot of delicious black cock buried inside her.

“I-I just came from the gym,” Hannibal groaned hotly into her ear, as he fucked her from behind. “I saw something… something that made me horny.” He didn’t want to tell her that is was the sight of some pretty English princess servicing his brother that had turned him on. “I swear to God, if I didn’t get to fuck you, my balls would have exploded.”

“Y-you’re nuts,” Kristen moaned, head flopping forward as she felt Hannibal’s cock swell inside her. “N-not that I’m complaining.” And then she groaned, and climaxed, just as Hannibal tugged her hair and spurted hotly inside of her.

“Fuuuuuuck,” the big, black man emptied his balls into Kristen’s eager little pussy. “Oh, shiiiit.”

And then he flopped across her back, gasping and groaning.

Giggling, Kristen rolled him off of her, and tugged back up her yoga pants and panties. She grimaced, as hot cum flooded the gusset of her Victoria’s Secret boyshorts.

“I’m going to be sticky all afternoon now.”

“I-it was worth it,” Hannibal panted, reluctantly tucking his own, drained cock back into his pants.

Kristen giggled again. She peered over the back of the seats, at the parking lot.

“I’m surprised nobody saw us!” Hammering her stepbrother in the shoulder, she complained: “The cops could have come and busted us!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Hannibal panted. He glanced at his G-Shock. “And look, you’ve still got three minutes of break left.”

Laughing, Kristen punched him in the arm.

“You’re such a douchebag, Baller.” And then she leaned over and kissed him. “Now, not that I’m complaining – but what was
that
about?”

“I just need to see you,” he replied. “And not just because I was horny.” He kissed her hotly. “Are we still cool? After last night?”

“My mom’s pissed at me,” Kristen admitted. “She lectured me for an hour about how you’re a bad influence, and how you’re just going to break my heart. And then your Dad went off on her, defending you.”

She shrugged.

“It was kind of sweet, Hannibal. You could tell it was really tearing him up, having my mom throw all the shitty things he’d said about you back in his face.”

His breath finally getting back to normal, Hannibal sighed.

“Well, the chickens come home to roost, that’s what Pops always used to tell me.” He tied the front of his sweat pants. “Beats me why. Pops doesn’t know a damn thing about chickens.”

Kristen laughed at that.

“Look, I’ve got to get back to work,” she sighed, leaning over and kissing him wetly on the mouth. “And thanks to you, I’m going to be squirmy all afternoon.”

“Well, maybe we can meet up later,” Hannibal looked her in the eye, and squeezed her hand. “Mike paid up for the lessons I’ve been teaching. I can take you for a real dinner – at a place with napkins, and everything.”

She giggled.

“Damn, you know how to treat a girl.”

She kissed him again.

“I’ll text you. Now get out of here, before the cops arrest us for public indecency.”

“If you think what we just did was bad,” Hannibal called after her, as she clambered out of the Bentley, “wait until the indecency I put you through in
private
.”

Kristen giggled, and blew him a kiss, and tottered (a little bow-legged) back towards the restaurant.

With a wide smile, Hannibal watched her go.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Kristen

“Get the fuck outta here!”

That was the second time the woman with the chardonnay had screeched that at her friend, and this time they’d both descended into hag-like cackles as she did so.

Kristen rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t in the mood for this.

Twenty minutes ago she’d been sinking her teeth into the leather of Hannibal’s Bentley, as he fucked her deliciously from behind. Now she was back to serving appetizers and cocktails, with a napkin draped over one arm and her panties full of cum.

And the three bitches over on table nine were just the icing on the cake.

They looked like Hartford’s typical housewives – twenty-something women with highlighted hair and fake tans, getting together to gossip and badmouth over happy hour cocktails.

Except this afternoon, one of them in particular seemed to be holding court, with her two bitchy friends listening in rapt attention.

Kristen couldn’t help it. As she headed over to deliver a plate of wings to the three women, she tuned into their conversation to see what the three of them were cackling about.

And her blood froze when she did so.

“I swear to God, Janine, it was
him
. I recognized his car in the parking lot.”

“Hannibal Alexander? The fighter?”

The third girl blinked. “Who?”

“The guy from the MMA. He was on TMZ last month for getting into a bust up in a hotel.”

“Oh,
that
dude.”

“Yeah, I saw him just now, pulling out of the parking lot.”

Kristen was at their table now, and handed over the plate of wings with a forced smile. The three women ignored her, and continued talking.

“How the fuck do you know what car he drives, Janet?”

“Yeah, and isn’t he from LA or something? With all those tattoos and shit.”

“He’s from right here in Hartford,” the woman called Janet corrected them. “I should know, because I fucking dated him in high school.”

“Get the fuck outta here,” screamed Janine, for the third time.

Kristen nearly spilled the empty glasses she was picking up.

“Jesus, watch it,” the third woman growled at her, and then turned back to the first.

“Yeah, and you wanna know how I
know
it was him?” Janet was continuing talking, and this time muttered her tale in a whisper, so the other two girls had to gather close to hear her. “’Cos he’s in town right now, visiting his folks.”

“How the fuck do you know, you liar.”

“Oh, a liar, am I?” And Janet pulled them in closer, so much so that Kristen could hardly hear them. “Well get a load of this – and don’t you
dare
tell a
fucking soul
.”

Kristen’s ears hurt, as she strained to listen to the story.

Janet giggled whoreishly: “I know because I was the
first
person he called when he rolled into town last week. And during my lunch break at school last week, I fucking
blew him in the parking lot
.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Janine screamed again.

There was a crash as the pile of empty glasses Kristen was balancing tumbled to the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” The three women looked up angrily, at the stunned looking waitress standing by their table.

“Jesus, watch your shit!”

“Fuck, there’s broken glass everywhere!”

For a second, Kristen just stood there, stunned. Then something snapped into place, and she nodded, thoughtlessly muttering: “I’m so sorry. I’ll come and tidy this up…”

But as she staggered off to grab a dustpan and brush, her mind was elsewhere.

Had she just heard that woman right?

Some blousey twenty-something with a cheap wedding ring had just claimed to have given Hannibal a blowjob in the parking lot of her school?

Her
Hannibal.

And last week.
When
last week?

Her stomach flipped into a knot. Kristen suddenly felt bile rise in her throat.

Fuck, had her mother been right all along?

She’d been so swept away by this… this
thing
she’d had with Hannibal, that she hadn’t bothered wondering what he got up to the rest of the time.

While she was working, or in school, was he out banging other stupid broads from Hartford?

Filling him time getting blowjobs from cheating housewives, until he was back in Vegas and get them from the hookers and porn stars like he was used to?

Suddenly feeling like she was going to throw up, Kristen let the broom and dustpan she’d collected clatter to the floor. She clamped her hand over her mouth, and ran desperately to the bathroom.