Big Tit Derby 5x5

"What're you still doing here?"

"I live here."

"You know what I mean; you supposed to be over at your aunt Hettie Mae painting that bathroom in one of her rooms, boy! You know she got that girl moving in with the Section 8!!" Mom was livid upon finding me reclining in my room taking in a Gamera movie on this Japanese streaming service.

"Oh you were serious about that?"

"YOU BETTER GET YOUR BUTT UP AND GET OVER TO THAT HOUSE BEFORE THAT GIRL SHOW UP, BOY!!" Mom was not pleased as her authoritative voice went a few octaves higher signaling the possibility of physical violence if I didn't move as fast as she wanted.

There was no way I was having a perfectly good Saturday messed up by parental violence. To put things in perspective, my parent originated from the south where severe corporal punishment was the norm. Mom wasn't about to change tradition even after I'd pointed out the suspect parallels between this behavior and the whippings of the days of chattel slavery. She agreed with me after some reflection before reaching for her belt.

A good forty minutes later, I was inside the rental unit of my Aunt's burgeoning B&B (By her standards.) painting this bathroom without the slightest possibility of remuneration for my hard labor. Besides the latent stinging from mom's belt, I was put out about losing part of my hard earned weekend toiling away for someone considered a distant relative. This unit was supposed to be going to one of her daughters and a friend, some female by the name of Porsha Simms. Aunt Hettie wasn't one to gamble, assuring she'd get money from their housing waiver.

"Oh hey; you painting already, huh?"

My cousin Deanna appeared at the end of the short corridor separating two bedroom, one smaller than the other. Part of the floor plan of the small rental incorporated this I shape schematic with a modest kitchen and rear patio door between them. The unit was originally part of a larger attached home next door before my uncle did a bit of carpentry magic by pulling a King Solomon on the home. Ironically he was divorced by my Aunt Hettie Mae shortly after that for cheating with a potential client, one of her friends.

"Yeah, I'll be done in about an hour or so, Deanna." She placed a bag of Chicken on the kitchen table along with a few sodas in styrofoam cups.

"Hey, thanks for doing this, man; we really don't have money to hire anyone."

I was on a short ladder using a roller to spreads the beige paint around above the sink. This was an old style bathroom taller than it was wide with the narrow doorway likely posing a challenge for my portly relative. I noticed a crestfallen look on her face prompting me to speak out of human kindness.

"You okay; you look worried or something?"

"It's my roommate Porsha; that bitch trifling."

"Oh, how's that?"

"She owe me money; she ALWAYS owe me money and I'm scared she gonna start flaking on the rent too; Hettie Mae don't play when it come to her rent check."

"Just put her out and get another roommate." I shrugged still painting.

"I can't do that, she my friend."

It was an oxymoron suggesting such a simple solution to my cousin who had always had a revolving door of best friends. Deanna was especially hypersensitive which complicated a lot of her relationships. The worst that could happen would be the cessation of all communication between the duo.

"Get somebody else to do it." I offered.

Deanna didn't say anything for a few moment pondering my suggestion silently. I'd been around this contingent of my extended family few times, but enough to see trouble on the horizon. She fished the large, greasy box from its plastic bag snagging a large fried chicken breast snacking and watching as I waited for the obvious request.

"You can help yourself to some chicken." There was no doubt she was getting ready to ask me something.

"Thanks." She started walking down the corridor to the larger of the two bedrooms.

"Hey uhm, what's this bag on the table?" Deanna sounded a little dodgy.

"It's just my camera bag; I was gonna shoot some stuff on the way back home." I wanted to do a little test shot to see how the footage looked shot from a bus window.

Also my mother was known to nose around my things when I was out and I had no way to gauge her computer literacy, also packing my laptop. I could only think of the unholy hell that would be unleashed upon my person were my mother to discover the videos made with Erica.

"That's cool how you like, into the movie stuff and all; uhm, could you do me one more favor sides painting the bathroom?" She was pitching and I didn't exactly feel like catching, but I'd inadvertently put myself in her path.

"WHAT?!" I stopped painting looking her right in the face manifesting my best angry brother expression.

"Well I told Porsha that a handyman was gonna paint the bathroom and all; so, she probably think you work for Hettie Mae. Maybe you could like; hit Porsha up for her half of the rent, hundred fifty?"

"Why don't you just ask her; she's your roommate."

"I don't want no drama; she my friend." That statement was starting to get old as I read between the lines knowing she would keep revisiting the question one way or another until I acquiesced. I reached in my back pocket checking the time on the face of my phone before giving the fateful answer.

"Hundred fifty?" Deanna's face lit up at the successful prospect of foisting her troubles off on me.

"THANKS COUSIN!!" She didn't answer the question quickly scurrying back to her bedroom like her life depended on it. Deanna emerged in a change of clothing minutes later hurrying towards the door.

"WHERE YOU GOING?!!" I was caught off guard.

"Now, if I'm here she gonna expect you to ask me for my half of the rent. So, get her half and slip it to me later; I'm going over my man place for a while."

"What if she don't have it?"

"Well, just put a little fear of god in her trifling ass; but I'd like to get that rent money, cuz." Deanna was out the door as I processed the asked favor which ended up sounding more like an order.

"Yall both trifling." I commented to myself.Things got kind of skewed and odd painting the bathroom waiting for Porsha to show up.

My phone battery was running low, so I dropped down to the floor going into the adjacent kitchen. I found one socket in working order and the misfortune of also finding out it was being used to power the fridge. The place still needed a lot of work with additional carpentry and some obvious electrical maintenance. I ended up crossing no man's land into Deanna's bedroom which was a revelation in excess and mess with more clothes than she actually needed or used stored in bins and big cardboard boxes bordering her sloppy bed with was three or more mattresses stacked. She had this really nice fifty inch flat screen in the middle of the disorganized mess situation in an expensive looking entertainment center. Even the shelves on the stained wood structure were filled to the brim with various odds and ends.

"Need a maid up in here for real." I plugged my phone into power strip near the door happy to pull the door up behind me.

"Who are you?"

"Uhm, I work for Hettie Mae." I insinuated finding who I assumed was Porsha Simms standing at the table in the kitchen going through the open box of chicken on the table.

She was definitely not a small woman by any means looking to stand at least five ten and some change with a powerful frame covered in a homemade wifebeater that did little to nothing to hide what appeared to be a very large bosom. Her lower half was modestly covered in some knee length cutoff sweat pants everything colored a shade of lilac.

"Oh, so you the maintenance man?"

"I'm painting the bathroom; Hettie got another guy for the other stuff." I tried to sound stern working my way into things as she picked the skin off a thigh leaving the naked meat still in the box.

"I'm Porsha." She offered quite congenially as she took a sip from one off the remaining sodas. My cousin left hers on the counter and I was sure Porsha was drinking from the same styrofoam cup. It made my stomach turn a little bit.

"You're the other roommate, huh?" I played dumb, stating the obvious.

Porsha turned taking a long drag on the straw emanating from her cup before fishing a biscuit out of the box. It seemed both girls were blessed with a healthy appetite. I saw an opening while she was squeezing a packet of honey onto a half-eaten biscuit.

"So, they wanted me to ask you for your half of the rent money."

"Who?"

The energy in the room seemed to freeze as she looked me right in the eye. Porsha had a roundish face with brown eyes, a hook nose, slightly jowly cheeks and thin lips which had me wondering if she were west African or something. Her hair was half braided upfront while the rest was an unkempt mess in the back down to her shoulders.

"Aunt Hettie."

"Who else?"

"What?"

"You said "they" wanted you to ask for some rent money. Who's the other person?"

"Oh, I just meant Hettie Mae." I was kicking myself internally for slipping up. Porsha wasn't slow by any means staring a discerning hole right through my face.

"Look me and Deanna worked it out where we pay together; so, maybe you should get some money from her first before you come at me."

"Well, since you were here, I asked you first." Despite trying to look unassuming, I felt the beginnings of an argument. Porsha put her hands on her hips regarding me suspiciously.

"Well, I'm a have to talk with Hettie Mae about this because she didn't say nobody collecting rent but her. You the assistant manager or something?"

"No, I already said I work for Hettie Mae."

"As far as I understand it, I'm only supposed to give my rent to management." Porsha replied ruefully making me chafe on the inside. Talking to her about money was like pulling a wisdom tooth.

"Uhm, well I'll let Hettie Mae know what you said."

"You do that." She was already tearing into another piece of chicken.

"Uhm, my phone in Deanna bedroom." I kicked myself further fumbling over my words further under her watchful eye.

Now I understood why my cousin bolted. She knew this woman was not slouch, not easily fooled, making me wonder what would happen when this Porsha Simms took things up with her later.

"Sure." She replied completely deadpan to my back as I entered Deanna's bedroom closing the door behind me.

My phone was charged, and I caught myself before actually dialing up my cousin to spill the beans on the budding situation. I sat on the edge of the bed working it out in my head, eventually figuring that it really had nothing to do with me ultimately. There was a light knock on the door. It was Porsha.

"Hey man, I don't want no trouble but I'm a little bit short on funds. Let me call around, see if I can drum up some dough, okay?"

Even though it seemed like she folded, Porsha still had me on edge after shredding my misguided attempt to extort money from her for my cousin. I wasn't even blood related to Deanna, so I felt doubly stupid for even going through with the scam.

"Right, okay." I replied through the cracked door of my cousin's bedroom eyes drifting down towards her boobs.

Porsha crept away as my gaze drifted down finding disappointment in her inverted looking backside, It was basically an inverted triangle shape below a wide, blocky waist muffin top and all. Her body seemed bred solely to hold up those really big tits as I recalled my tryst with Erica Walton and the video we made that was still racking up views even now. Weeks later the count was somewhere in the upper hundred thousand with the comment section filled up with queries about more of Erica or similar content. It made me wish I'd got some of the cash attached to her cash app. Sure she'd put herself out there allowing herself to be filmed, but I was involved too. I decided to watch the video again later in the privacy of my bedroom, but I had to finish the bathroom. It would be awkward after confronting Porsha.

I made my way out of the bathroom checking the view count on Erica's videos with the intent of having a snack before resuming work. I found a plethora of messages from the site's email which allowed fans to interact with content creators. Erica had answered a few emails and comments saying she was working on some new stuff which gave me hope until I realized we hadn't exchanged numbers. I got irritated believing she'd commandeer the page and make content with some other guy. I wished I'd got some of that money even more as I glanced in the box of chicken finding its contents almost completely ravaged by the combined efforts of two large sisters.

I managed a couple of wings and some fries finding out that Porsha had consumed all of the sodas delivered by Deanna. Luckily, there was an undiscovered Snapple in the fridge that I snagged feeling it just compensation in part for painting their bathroom and the aborted attempt at extorting Porsha. I was munching on a wing when my ears picked up on familiar sounds, eyes noticing a disturbing sight.

My digital camera was missing from my now opened camera bag on the table.

Horrifically I was serenaded by the sound of my heated sexual exchange with Erica Walton played loud enough to be heard across the rental unit.

It seemed to start the moment I started eating. My backpack had been rummaged through no doubt whatsoever by Porsha right after our last exchange likely. I craned my neck towards the open door of the bathroom finding her legs visible from the knees down to her bare feet which were covered by some cheap flip flops. Porsha leaned forward as far as she was able with a toothy grin on her face.

"WHAT YOU DOING WITH MY STUFF?!!" I freaked.

"Damn, stop tripping man; I was just checking this camera out because I never saw something like, this expensive. You don't have to get all bent out of shape about it cause you making nasty movies and shit." Porsha was sitting there urinating caring little about the strong odor of the drying paint or that she left the door open.

"You don't need to be going through my stuff either."

"I thought it was Deanna's stuff; I was looking for something valuable to hock for rent money."

"Oh, so you gonna steal your roommate's stuff?"

"Just taking it to the pawn shop; I can get it back later, anyway. Don't you want that rent money?" Her reasoning was criminally sound, but I was over the initial misguided attempt at getting money out of her for my cousin.

"Forget about that shit; just give your rent money to Hettie Mae when you get it." I walked over just outside the bathroom's open door trying to reach inside for my camera without looking at the woman sitting on the toilet.

"Chill man, can't I finish looking at it?" She held it out of my reach, sounding petulant.

"It's kind of private stuff." I was worried she'd rat me out to Deanna which would be like telling the entire family as a number of my relatives were accomplished gossip mavens.

"Hey lots of people do shit like this man; let me check it out." I was still trying to snatch my camera finding little success as she kept it away while still sitting on the toilet.

"The other person wouldn't like it, so give it back."

"Who, your little girlfriend here? I wouldn't want anyone to see my ugly ass titties either, if I was her. What, she knocked up or something?"

Porsha casually burned Erica making me wish she were present to free the beast on this lazy upstart. I had a thing about tussling with females airing on the side of caution when possible.

"Stop talking; she made a hundred fifty in one night from that clip!!" I felt the need to defend my hookup's honor in some fashion as it got deathly quiet in the adjacent bathroom. Moments later Porsha's head appeared at the edge of the bathroom door.

"How?"

"What?" I turned away from the bathroom leaning against the wall facing the kitchen.

"How'd she make a hundred fifty in one night?" The question hung in the air as I pondered whether to answer or not, still remembering this was an acquaintance of my cousin.

"Uhm, the site this is posted on gives you the option of putting vids behind a paywall. I released one and put the other behind a paywall, and uh, money started coming in right after. I guess people like her ugly titties, huh?"

"That really happen; the money and all?"

"Yeah, you can go to the site and look for yourself." The toilet flushed followed by the sound of running water seconds later as Porsha appeared wiping her hands with some paper towels.

"What site?"

"Ah, forget about it." I wasn't sure I trusted her; Porsha seemed kind of shady.

"You probably lying anyway." She countered trying reverse psychology.

"I don't want nobody snitching on me; we just met, and I really don't know you like that."

I finally retrieved my digital camera from her clutches returning it to the camera bag which I placed in the bathroom tub so that Porsha would have to literally go through me to get at it. This woman wasn't above stealing and told me so, in no uncertain terms.

"Yeah, you lying." She pressed on minutes later while I was finishing up the painting job.

I'd had enough, not wanting the back and forth sure she'd rat me out anyway. I fished out my phone pulling up the website but enlarging the window so that she could see the same clip she'd watched on my camera. When I was satisfied, I went back to painting, standing on the step ladder.

"Who's lying?" I watched a gregarious smile form on her lips.

"That girl made mad money off those little burnt tits; what'd you think I could do with these?" I glanced down finding a sight that made me nearly stumble off the ladder, but Porsha caught ahold of my arm averting an accident.

"OH FUCK!!" She'd flashed her boobs at me giving me a view of them from the top as I found myself looking down into a wealth of cleavage.

I jumped down onto the floor in front of Porsha who seemed happy at my reaction to her charms before slowly raising that lilac colored wifebeater. She wasn't wearing a bra, sporting a pair of full, sloping breasts that were as big as bowling balls. At least comparable in size more or less, by my uniformed estimate. Upon further inspection, these huge breasts were decidedly football shaped with her nipple angled towards her feet but otherwise, perfect. I found myself wishing these tits were on another girl noting the sloping belly underneath. Part of the charm was the cookie sized areolas topped with juicy looking nips that made my mouth water. Porsha cupped the undersides of her tits, bouncing them individually and collectively.

"Can I make some cash with these titties on that internet shit?" Porsha asked, already knowing the answer as she glanced down at my tented jeans.

"Fuck yeah."

Porsha didn't flinch when my fingers buried themselves in her flesh squeezing and kneading surprisingly full breasts. I guess looking at them clothed at the outset, made me think they should be floppy or something, but these were really lush and full with defiant nips that pushed back tickling the palms of my hands. She just let me play with them for a while enjoying the attention. Both of my hands were completely hidden from view when I placed them under her breasts finding a heated area in the deep crease of her under bust.

"So, you gonna help me make some of that money?" I was pretty sure Porsha already knew the answer to that question.

She led me down to the smaller bedroom she ended up with after Deanna already snagged the larger of the two citing her familial relation to Hettie Mae as leverage in negotiations beforehand. Porsha's room turned out to be worse than my cousin's with mountains of clothing and partially torn cardboard boxes all over the place. Adjacent to the doorway was this really long dresser that looked dilapidated with some drawers missing, their voids stuffed with papers and various odds and ends. An old style television sat precariously on top of the dresser, rabbit ear antennas and all with a Blue Ray player attached. All this shit made the room look smaller than it was leading me to suspect both girls of being hoarders in some respect.