Becy's Deal

I met Laurie when Becky, her daughter, was only two years old. Only a couple of months ago we celebrated Becky's college graduation. It was a proud moment for both of us. Becky had been a wonderful stepdaughter and great student until she graduated from high school. Then, as if all thirteen years of strict parochial school just evaporated; she started college as a drinking party girl.

Becky survived her first year away but her scholarship didn't. So, at my urging, she left her first choice school and came home to finish her degree. The local college didn't have the same prestige or name recognition but it did have lower tuition and classes close to our house.

Being forced to move home must have been a blow to Becky's pride. She stayed with Laurie and I for a year then moved into an apartment with three other girls. The apartment was in a bad section of town but it was clean and her roommates were more interested in their GPAs than boys and booze. In this new environment, Becky redoubled her efforts and graduated at the top of her class.

Laurie and I took great pride in Becky's apparent turn around. That bursting pride wasn't nearly has great, though, as the pride I felt when I saw the job offer Becky was entertaining. A large pharmaceutical company made her an offer with a starting salary that was nearly as big as my current income. It was an unthinkable opportunity. Maybe that's why Becky made her deal with Mr. Jackson.

Bradley Jackson lives three doors down from us. He's an elderly African American widower who raised his three sons before he moved onto our street. Though, I really never knew him very well, Brad appeared to be a pretty descent guy.

A week ago last Tuesday, around nine o'clock, I got a call from Becky. I was in my morning Quality Assurance meeting. The departmental assistant broke into the meeting and told me that I had an emergency phone call. Fortunately, the emergency was limited to a car accident involving Brad and Becky. No one was hurt. Evidently, Brad was pulling around a construction crew and hit our Lexus that Becky was driving. Becky called because she needed our insurance agent's phone number.

When I got home, Becky told me that she had spoken with our insurance agent and since the accident was Mr. Jackson's fault, his insurance was responsible for the repairs to the Lexus. I was so relieved that I didn't bother to ask very many questions. After all, it seemed pretty straightforward to me.

Even though the body shop was closed, we drove over to take a look. The car was in the middle of the lot, parked alongside a cinder block garage. The front driver side quarter panel was smashed in and there was an ugly dent from the front of the driver's door to the tail light. After walking up and down the fence line, getting the best view of the car I could, I asked Becky if she was sure she wasn't hurt. Becky replied solemnly, "I'm fine. I had the car at a dead stop and Mr Jackson came around and hit the side. I had my seat belt on. The airbags didn't even deploy. I'm fine."

The next evening I thought I would be a good neighbor and check in on Brad. I explained that I just wanted to make sure he was okay. Under his breath he said that he was fine and asked how my stepdaughter was doing. I told him Becky was fine. He nodded and breathed sibilantly "that's good, that's good." I felt sorry for him. He must have felt awful that he had caused the accident. He's a big man, with a good sized belly and a head of graying hair. He moved slowly almost painfully. Not doubt the jolt was hard on him. We didn't talk much about the accident, each time I said something about it he invariably changed to topic to Becky. Her college education, how she looked like her mother, Laurie, and that I must be proud to have such a beautiful and smart stepdaughter. I nodded but before I could continue he said that his oldest son was like Becky, a real go getter. He and his wife had three boys the same age as Becky. One, Darren, had a learning disorder. He comes around every now and again. I listened to him for awhile and then bowed my head and began to leave. That's when Brad said something that didn't mean anything until yesterday. "Starting a new job and all, she don't need an accident and all that stuff on her record."

"Well accidents happen. I'm sure the insurance will to take care of it." I interjected as a way of derailing any accusation aimed at Becky.

Brad stopped and smiled hard at me. He softened a bit as I stuttered through an explanation of accidents and how they were never really anyone's fault.

With that soft smile, he bade me goodbye and turned to go back into his house.

I heard Brad's words again yesterday when he spoke them in my house to Becky. I had taken a half day at work so I could pick up the insurance check and get the repair process rolling. Becky's rental car was in the driveway of our house, so I parked on the street. I entered the hallway through the open garage.

Before I could announce that I was home, I heard "This'll be a good agreement. Your folks don't need to know about your drinking and smoking. You don't need all that stuff on your record."

The voice was soft, deep and drawn out as if the words were pushed through clenched teeth. Then a response came, this voice I knew because I heard it every day.

Becky said "Well, it's not going on my record. You saw to that. So let me see it."

Our downstairs hallway ends in the foyer. To the left is the living room and to my right was the big mirror Laurie bought last Christmas. I moved forward just enough to look through the mirror.

Becky was standing in the middle of the room talking to Bradley who was sitting down on the couch. I'd never seen Becky like this. Her dark red hair was in loose waves over her shoulders. She had heavy eyeliner, lipstick and probably blush. My eyes weren't drawn to her face. She was wearing a tight, one piece black dress that accentuated her assets like Christmas wrap on an expensive present.

Bradley was wearing a big yellow tooth smile. He ran his thick tongue between his lips and chuckled. "This is your..." Bradley stopped, licked his lips again and gave Becky a slow visual appraisal. He then continued with his speech by saying, "This is your bargain. You offered me, whatever I wanted if I'd keep your dark little secret. You told me that I would have whatever I wanted. Whatever I wanted."

"What do you want?" Becky quickly countered.

"First I ask the questions." Bradley said. Becky looked to the floor pressed her lips hard together and nodded.

"That's good, now you had it right. Let's see it. Take that tiny little thing off" Bradley said with a point and wave toward Becky's thin dress.

Bradley reached behind her. I heard the zipper slide down her back. In one motion she shrugged off the slutty attire and for a moment I stared into the mirror at the image of a ripe voluptuous woman. Becky's big breasts were capped with beautiful pink nipples that pointed slightly upward. Her tight, shapely ass was a perfect counter point to her huge tits. Just like Bradley, I let my eyes trace the line of Becky's flat stomach down to her perfectly shaped thighs and calves. She was standing perfectly still in a pair of shiny black 'fuck me' pumps

My mind was blank. I couldn't stop them any more than I could stop looking. And I did look. Bradley lifted his ass up from the couch and unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. Still sitting on the couch he hauled out a huge uncircumcised cock that I could see even over the arm of the overstuffed couch. Becky stared open mouthed at the thick black meat. Watching her reaction, Bradley's face creased with a wide toothless grin.

Becky licked her lips grinned and stepped between the man's two big legs. Without direction or prodding she dropped to her knees. After a few seconds, her head began to slowly bob up and down over his lap.

"Oh yeah girl, you do that real nice. My boy hasn't had any attention for a long time. Keep that up, you're a fine girl a fine girl and a hell of a slut."

In spite of the subtle insult, Becky quickened her pace. She extended the soft tunnel of her mouth by wrapping her hands around the old man's shaft. Her head and mouth moved as one. Becky's head moved faster up and down. Her hips began to move from side to side and a deep moan emerged from her like a slow inexorable flood. It got louder and louder. It was an emblem of her pleasure. She loved what she was doing.

Bradley took a fistful of Becky's hair and pulled her down onto his crotch. With Bradley's thick elderly cock buried in her throat, Becky began to convulse. He let her gag a couple of times before releasing her hair. Becky fell back on her haunches. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Bradley bellowed "I ain't interested in filling your belly with cum. Get up so we can do this right."

Becky looked up at him blankly. For his age, Bradley is in pretty good shape. He has a bit of a paunch with two large jagged scars on either side of his navel. His large uncircumcised cock hung like a fire hose below a thatch of gray pubic hair. He walked over to my chair and pointed down at it.

"Come on, get your ass over here, we don't have all day." He said flatly.

Becky smiled wickedly, got up and walked seductively over to the recliner.

"Do you want me to ride you while you sit in my Daddy's chair?" Becky asked with a finger playing at the edge of her lip.

Bradley just said, "No" and grabbed my stepdaughter's arm and pulled her in front of him. Her back was flat up against his gut. Almost instantly she began to undulate her hips and abdomen so that her pussy rubbed his big cock.

"That's it baby. You know how to turn a black man on. Yeah keep doing it. You've had a black man before haven't you?" Bradley asked tauntingly through clenched teeth.

Becky bent slowly over the arm of my recliner. As her elbows came to rest on the arm of the chair she arched her back so her pussy was in line with the old black man's huge, cock. When she was finally nestled into her mating position she looked back at Bradley with half closed eyes and said, "My Mom and Dad don't know it but yes, I've been with a black man. A couple really; I had a black boyfriend my first year at school. He introduced me to one of his friends and the three of us had a lot of fun. They taught me how to please a man. But, I guess we just partied too much. Oh, Mister Jackson I feel that big cock of yours. It must be aching to get inside me. Why are you waiting, fuck me. I'm all yours."

Bradley pushed forward and then suddenly stopped. "Now hold on girl. It's been awhile for me. I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me cum quick so this will be over for you. But it aint going to be over."

Still bent over the side of the chair and deeply impaled by his prodigious manhood and his belly resting on her ass, Becky twisted around and stared balefully at Bradley.

Bradley didn't seem to notice her anger. Instead of addressing her hard gaze Bradley continued his soliloquy about his old penis. "My boy needs to learn how to love a woman. He's a shy one, nothing wrong with him, he's just a little backward around the women. So how far are you willing to go?"

Bradley was pressing against Becky, burying his meat deep inside her femininity. He bent over her, laying his weight across her white back, grabbed a handful of her hair, bared his teeth and growled, "How far are you willing to go?"

He repeated the question several times. Then his hips began to thrust viciously into Becky. Becky braced herself across the chair. At first, it appeared that she was just trying to keep from being knocked over but then she twisted her back and arched it upward and her expression changed. Gone was her furrowed brow and hard stare that had been stubbornly focused on the floor. Now her mouth was in the middle of a moan.

"How far is you willing to go? I never had so much as a ticket until you came along. Now I got people eyeing me, thinking I'm too old to be driving around. I'm not too old to fuck, so I'm not too old to drive. I've taken this shit all because a pretty girl doesn't want her Mom and Daddy to find out her drinking and drugging ways. Well, tell me bitch, how far are you willing to go? You said you'd do anything. Well what is anything. What is it?"

Bradley was gritting his teeth and pulling Becky's hair. To accommodate his vicious thrusts she had spread her legs. Now the old man had total access to her bare sex. But that wasn't enough for him. He shoved his cock all of the way into my stepdaughter and then held himself there. In a low growl he asked "How far are going to go, to keep this secret from that nice fancy new job of yours?"

Fear flashed across her face but only for a moment and then she was back in control and she said "I'll do whatever you want." Her face was red and she was breathing hard. It was clear that Bradley had gotten it right. Her parents, friends and Church be damned; Becky was only worried about her new high paying career.

"Say it again. Come on bitch, say it again. Say it!" Bradley goaded with a snort.

Bradley's face broke into a huge nasty grin when Becky said in a meek voice, "I'll do anything you want."

Bradley's voice changed into an intimidating growl and he thundered. "Now we are talking. I'm going to get more than just a little stank."

Bradley shoved his hips forward so he looked like a rutting seal on the beach. Becky must have liked it, her eyes became slits and she exhaled another long low moan. Bradley jerked and made a beckoning gesture with his hand.

Oh my God, he saw me! What the hell am I going to do? What am I going to do? What am I going to do? I can't go out there. I can't go out there. Pure terror stole the breathe from my lungs and all of the thoughts from my head. My life was over.

Just as the rigor was draining from my tissues and a deepening resignation of my fate filled my soul, I noticed a movement. Bradley wasn't looking at me. No one was looking at me. What the fuck; there was someone else in the room with Becky and Bradley.

Just then, another old black man strode over to Becky. I didn't know him but he was a physical opposite to Bradley. Where Brad was heavy with gray hair on his head, chest and around the root of his cock, this man was thin and bald. His head shone like a polished bowling ball. He was still wearing his pants and shirt but when he stood in front of my stepdaughter's face he methodically undid his pants and eased the zipper down.

His pants fell to the floor showing a pair of white boxers above two impossibly thin, stick legs. He fumbled at the waistband of his underwear. His lips quivered as his head trembled and shook slightly from side to side.

The man was angled away from me as he slid the boxers down his legs and Becky's eyes widened. She stared at the mute man's cock and didn't say a word as he stepped out of his boxers. He bent down to pick them up and turned to throw them back where he had come. I stepped to the left and put a hand on the wall in front of me. My heart was racing, I tried to calm my breathing, I was breathing like I had just run a marathon. I focused on the pattern in the wallpaper and slowly my breathing returned to normal. I ran my sweaty palms down my shirt and over the front of my pants. My cock was hard as a rock. I was too aroused for thoughts of propriety. I needed to see more.

With both hands on the wall I leaned sideways until once again my eyes were full of my stepdaughter's debauchery. The skinny man was still angled away from me. His small, wrinkled black ass was hunched tight as he was leaning forward. I could see Becky's head bobbing up and down in front of him. She was still bent over the side of my chair with Bradley's meaty black cock buried in her pussy.

My slim pale skinned stepdaughter was taking Bradley's portly manhood into her pussy while she sucked on the skinny black man's meat. She had shown little if any hesitation in accepting two large black cocks. The image of my stepdaughter as a pristine vessel was excoriated from my mind. The raw energy and unbridled enthusiasm showed me that she was enjoying the fucking she was receiving. Her unperturbed attitude and full acceptance of her base status evinced a hidden experience. Becky was an accomplished whore.

The skinny black man began to moan. It was a low deep exhale that rattled his whole body.

"My boy, don't you cum. Don't you dare cum." Bradley yelled suddenly.

The skinny black man stepped back. In that moment I saw Becky's face. It was a mask of lust and desire. Her eyes never left the cock that she had been worshipping. In those eyes was the sorrow of a broken promise.

The promise was bouncing in front of her. The skinny old black man's cock seemed to stretch from her chin to the top of her head. Unlike his body, his uncircumcised cock was thick with plum sized testicles hanging low below it. A long string of spit slowly fell from the base of the shaft onto the front of my chair.

Bradley wagged his finger at the other man. "Don't you want to fuck this bitch?"

The skinny man nodded quickly so Bradley pulled his dick out of Becky's pussy and backed up, then motioned for the other man to take his place. The skinny man shuffled over and grabbed his cock with his hand and rubbed it up and down her soaking slit.

Becky sucked lightly on her lower lip. Brad moved in front of her but was too far away for her to orally service his fat cock. It stuck out in front of him like an extra arm attached at the elbow beneath his belly.

Becky's eyes widened as the man in front of her surged forward; forcing himself deep inside her with one brutal thrust. I looked at the man. He was skinny, his face was clean shaven and his bottom lip was wide and curled sharply down below his open mouth. I could have counted his ribs through the skin on his chest. He must have been around the same age as Bradley. His age showed in the wrinkles around wrists and the thin bags beneath his eyes. His elbows and knees were ashen. He seemed normal except that he obviously was not; there was something wrong that was not a part of his appearance. His thinking or demeanor kept him from being solid on his feet.

The skinny man was mentally ill; that must have been why Bradley was defending him. He was shy around women but fine otherwise. That meant Becky was most likely his first or certainly one of the few woman he had ever stuck that hard black stick of a cock into. Bradley was sharing Becky with his mentally disabled "boy".

"Tell me girl what are you doing?" Bradley asked in a booming voice.

My eyes found him in the middle of the dining room. He was naked. His cock was gleaming from Becky's juices that hadn't dried yet. My God he was holding a video recorder. As he moved it front of his face his huge cock swayed like a tree limb caught by a sudden breeze.

"What are you doing?" Becky asked. I'm sure she tried to sound demanding but just as she began talking the man behind her shoved his cock hard into her sex and began to fuck her relentlessly. The skinny old man looked down at her but seemed no more cognizant of her feelings than he probably was of her name.

"I want to commemorate the moment." Bradley said without taking his eyes off the camera's display.

Bradley began to wheedle Becky in a cloying sweet voice. "Now look up here into the camera. Don't be shy, come on girl look up into the camera.".

Becky had dropped her head down between her arms and was moaning like she was getting a deep, full body massage. I guess, in a sense, that's what was happening and maybe that was why she stopped protesting. Keeping her face down, she swayed it from side to side. She suddenly stopped, faced the camera and said, "Mr. Bradley Jackson, shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself taking advantage of a young girl like me?" Becky's eyes became slits as she blew a kiss.