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Deep within the bronze and glass walls of one of Harlem’s most prestigious condominiums, rose an elevator filled with three, but headed to one. At the center of the group was Theo, a young man of means, propelled socially upward by a series of successes in the oil business, swept off from his rural ranchland home in Dallas, Texas, to his new sky-high loft in one of Harlem’s trendiest and most desirable neighborhoods and buildings. With him, in fact with one on each arm, rode Yvette and Yvonne, two African American women, blessed with bodies of a type written about by the great philosophe Sir Mix-A-Lot. The three had met at The Cherry Lounge, a local establishment owned by Dj Clue and Timbaland (two world famous producers).
Said club was one which Theo loved, despite the odd looks he got for being one of the only white men to enter through its well-guarded doors. It was the music he was after, though not necessarily the sound of it — as even though he had always had a certain obsessive affinity for rap music, he often found himself more taken by the culture that surrounded the genre, in particular the women who frequented the scene. It was a unique and oft-chided appreciation, one which clashed, at least in stereotype, with his being a jean-and-boot–wearing farmboy, from the heart of the Lonestar State.
And yet, there, in all his conflicting glory, as bass-filled music thumped loudly throughout the club, Theo sat unaccompanied, in an alcohol-rich VIP suite. He, as always, wore jeans and boots. The latter being brand new, and as expensive as he could find, just the latest in a series of conspicuous purchases, one that made him smirk, whenever he thought of it. Such a thought, and such a smirk ended however, replaced by another, when suddenly two women approached the velvet rope which separated his suite from the rest of the club.
“Hi!” Yvette half-shouted, trying to be heard over the loud din of the music pumping throughout the club.
“Yeah, hey!” Yvonne followed with an equally amplified voice.
“Howdy, ladies.” Theo responded loudly, as he used his hands to pat the open seats next to him on the red-leather couch on which he sat.
“Can I join you?” Yvonne asked, as she leaned over the rope which kept her from entering his suite uninvited.
“We! Can we join you!?” Yvette added, or more corrected, not wanting to be left out of a party with the club’s newest and most available baller, caucasian as he may be.
“Hell, why not! Let ’em in big guy.” The wide-smiling VIP responded, his instruction meant for the large, tight-shirted bouncer who held firmly to the opening end of the velvet rope. Once allowed in, the two busty and thick black women wasted no time in joining their host, each taking a position next to him, Yvette on his left, and Yvonne on his right. Both women wore dresses of an incredibly tight and form-fitting variety, which came down only a centimeter or two past their incredible round and supple asses. One might assume, due to his more rustic roots, that Theo would be ill-prepared to take advantage of such a situation, or perhaps that he would be too shy to capitalize on women who saw themselves as predators and not prey, in terms of sexual acquisition. But Theo suffered from no such faults, or frailties, for he had been the king of kings in Dallas, making bar hopping, and women wrangling his two most favorite, and successful hobbies. Stories could be told, books written, and even classes taught about his conquests — conquests which were won whilst he was still just a poor country boy — still just another Texan, with a cute smile, and butt that looked damn good in jeans.
Now, however, he was more, or at least had more. To offer. To use. To flaunt. And so he had, and so he did, enticing two women, of the type he wanted most, to take places, one under each of his arms. Neither wasted a moment with formalities or playing hard to get, making it clear what they wanted, and what they were willing to do for him — to him. And though he would take them up on their offer, he first wanted to enjoy the moment — the night — and in truth, a chance for them to get to know him. In such a venture, jokes were told, laughs had, smiles worn, and bonds formed. Surprised the two girls found themselves, that none of that fun and enjoyment was feigned or faked, even if that was the expectation and intent of each of them as they began their socializing.
For it was the case, that Yvette and Yvonne both saw Theo, before they even knew his name, as a rich white boy, who came down to a hood club to get his dick wet in some thick ebony booties. And in a way, they had pegged him right, but where they were wrong, was in thinking that they could navigate those familiar waters, with each other, without actually falling for him, his accent, and everything he brought to the table.
For with every movement and expression Theo made, both Yvette and Yvonne fell deeper and deeper into the shackles of his country boy spell. His accent was beautiful, his smile was intoxicating, and his hands were work-worn and strong, squeezing and fondling in a way only a working bahis siteleri man could. In those same moments, Theo found himself falling too, not for one or the other, but for both — for they together. Their bodies were so similar. So thick and juicy. Yvette’s skin the color of a lighter caramel, and Yvonne’s the hue of rich dark chocolate. Their breasts looked as if reflections of the other’s, merely framed with different clothes, and painted different hues. Their asses no less similar, both round and big, in some places bouncy and others firm in exactly the way Theo wanted. There lips, oh how beautiful they were, full and plump — begging to be kissed with their every movement.
In that moment of mutual expectation-breaking mezmer, Theo luxuriated, ordering one drink after another for both he and they, absolutely gleeful at the prospect of finding not just one, but two women with whom he felt not only comfortable, but truly happy. Not alone was he in his appreciation for the moment either, as both Yvette and Yvonne had found their initial expectations shattered. Each having entered through the velvet rope believing that Theo was simply a mark from which they might drain cash and crystal, leaving him when his funds exhausted, or their eyes found another with better prospects. But now…. Now, as each of the girls stole quick and frustrated glances at one another, they found themselves falling deeper and deeper into the fit country boy’s trance. He was funny, cute, and rich — all things they wanted, not just for the night, but moving forward. Someone who could finally whisk them away from a life of chasing dollars, and drinks — riding dick for rent, and sucking it for to keep the lights on.
Those feelings, those desires, first surfaced and clashed, when each of the girl’s roaming hands met one another just over Theo’s sizeable cock, which still laid dormant beneath his bright, new blue jeans. There they grabbed, not for his member, but for the other’s hand, trying to tear it away from the cock they wanted all to themselves. Of course, neither was willing to accept such an interception of attention, both instead fighting back, by grabbing at each other, ending in their hands warring together not centimeters above Theo’s waiting rod.
Now some men might, out of a sense of fear or concern, try to stop the two from engaging in such a way — from struggling against each other, but not Theo. No, he had more than his fair share of cowgirls fight over him, both figuratively and literally, and was an expert at using such battles to his own benefit. A skill he intended to use, with the eventual goal of using the girls’ competition against one another, to bind them in a permanent fashion to him — not just the winner, but they two together. That plan in mind, he ignored their hand battle, instead using the thought of it to get himself hard, so that his dick would rise up as close as he could muster to the the middle of it. Given how exciting the thought of two women fighting over him was, and always had been, it didn’t take long for his focus to result in a rock-hard cock, one which struggled against his jeans, trying to stand up straight, though finding itself only barely restrained by the denim.
The sight of the country boy’s erect member, and their desire for it, drove both girls to release each other’s hands, and to instead latch onto it, or at least as much of it as they could under such a heavy material. Yvette took the top nearer the tip, and Yvonne took the bottom, nearer Theo’s balls. And though there was room for both to hold on, as soon as they tried to stroke, their hands ran right into each other, stopping any movement, either Yvonne up or Yvette down. It was that unintended collision that turned unspoken frustrations into spoken ones, and the two women’s cold war hot.
“Bitch, get off his dick!” Yvette spat, not yet willing to concede even a moment of sharing Theo’s body.
“You first, hoe! Theo’s mine!” Yvonne responded, her mind on sharing in no more charitable a place. The words being passed back and forth, as each woman clung tightly to his cock, brought a smirk to the country boy’s face, but no words yet to his lips, as he leaned back, and flexed his cock, trying to escalate the conflict between the two, by bringing what each wanted back into their minds.
“I’m ain’t playin’ wit’ you, bitch….” Triggered by the flex, and her desire to feel such deep within her, Yvette threatened, as she leaned over Theo, so that her face came to the exact center of his chest.
“Hoe, I ain’t playin’ wit’ you!” Matching her rival’s move as she responded, Yvonne leaned forward, bringing herself nose-to-nose with Yvette, their faces hovering only about a foot or two above Theo’s cock. The commotion, had caught the ear of the bouncer standing just off the suite, who turned to see what Theo wanted him to do about the escalating conflict between the two women. In response, Theo smiled, and waved him off, letting him know that he had the situation well under his own control. Oblivious to that wordless conversation, the two continued to argue.
“Yo lips ain’t even thick canlı bahis siteleri enough fo him.” Yvonne continued, moving her own face forward, so that her bottom lip was only an eyelash’s length away from that of her rival’s, intending for Theo to compare the two closely.
“My lips ain’t no different than yours, hoe, feel.” As the last word passed her lips, Yvette too pushed herself forward, pressing her lips into Yvonne’s, not in a kiss, but instead in such a way that the very tips of both sets touched only lightly. At first, Yvonne wanted to pull back, and away, not wanting to kiss her rival, or even have their lips touch in such a way that someone might think they were kissing. But just as she went to withdraw her lips, the sound of the VIP privacy curtain being pulled closed by the bouncer hit her ears, and gave her the feeling of just enough security not to pull away.
“Bitch.” Yvonne insulted in a barely audible whisper, making sure to keep her lips firmly affixed to those of her rival’s, now more than committed to the comparison, and almost ashamed that it was she who almost conceded such a battle.
“Fuck you, trick.” Came in an equally suppressed volume, Yvette too keeping her lips engaged, as she stared deeply and angrily into her foe’s eyes. The moment was intense, for sure, and their glare hateful, but just as the two seemed to be mere seconds away from attacking each other, Theo took control.
“Girls, it’s time to go.” The country boy stated firmly, as he wrapped his arms around both, and stood up, bringing them both with him, the two only allowing their lips to separate when they could no longer physically keep them touching. Not long after, they each found themselves in an elevator, the elevator in which we first found our group of three.
“I don’t know why you coming, less you just gonna watch me fuck him.” The statement of confusion came from Yvonne, who like her counterpart, clung to one of Theo’s arms as the elevator continued upward. As she spoke, she began to linger forward, wanting more than she ever would have expected to engage her rival lip-to-lip again with her competition.
“The only one who goin’ be watching fucking is you. I’ll make sure you jus’ laying there next to us, trick, so you can see how good I do ’em.” Having noticed her enemy’s forward move, Yvette followed suit, not just because she felt that she had to, but instead because she too wanted to continue their comparison, confident that her lips were the better set.
“Please … girl … I wouldn’t want watch you fuck anybody, especially with your body looking like that.” The insult was spoken by Yvonne, as she again, drifted forward, challenging her rival to meet her.
“Your body ain’t no better than mine, bitch. Imma ’bout to show yo ass.” Threat issued, Yvette accepted her enemy’s challenge, she too moving forward, expecting to meet her opponent’s lips with her own, but instead finding Theo’s, who had leaned forward and engaged both girls in a passionate threeway kiss. Tongues lashed back and forth against one another, as each lost track of whose was whose, and who they hated and who they wanted to call their own. The moment, and Theo’s decision to intervene was perfect, causing he and his two warring women to pull close to one another in a tight embrace. There, standing between their molten hot figures, he used his hands to grab their asses, which to the touch jiggled like jello, a perfect mixture of muscle and flesh, slapping, tapping, and pushing them, to compare their near identical consistencies. With and amongst his thorough booty examinations, he pushed their bodies and breasts together, before suddenly pulling back, upon reaching his personal floor. There, and once the doors to the elevator had opened, the country boy pulled himself completely away from they two, leaving them still locked together from head to toe, tongues still swirling in each other’s mouths. .
One might expect that with his withdrawal, the two would immediately break away from each other, both in kiss and embrace, but Theo knew better. Knew that once he brought their tongues and bodies together, that they would not be able to resist the urge to taste the flavor of what their rival’s offered, and to test their own against it. And that they did indeed, with hands running up and down each other’s curvaceous bodies, tightly clinging to one another, with their tongues moving in and out of each other’s mouths. It was only as the doors began to close that the two finally broke apart, near breathless, and turned back to Theo, and his condo’s entrance, in a dizzy almost lust-drunk confusion.
“Y’all coming!?” Theo shouted from within the loft, though neither could see him.
Quickly each began to search for Theo, unsure where he was, or why he left them so abruptly. Despite that confusion, they found him lying on his center-loft bed, his large erect cock pulled out of his fly, and his eyes looking hungrily at each of them. Knowing what Theo wanted, Yvette and Yvonne shot each other a challenging glare, before they rushed over to him, as if racing canlı bahis to take their place first. Once they arrived, near simultaneously, they each dropped down to their knees on either side of him on the bed, before looking to Theo for instruction.
“Now girls, I know y’all don’t want to share little old me, but in this bedroom, I am the man. The MAN! Which means, I’m in charge. And so I don’t care if you two fight, go right ahead, as long as you do what I say. Got it?”
“This trick ain’t no fight! She ain’t worth yo time, or mine!” Yvette blurted out from her knees, as she snapped her head back and forth, keeping her gaze locked on her rival’s.
“Fuck you…. She just scared. See, I’m devoted, Theo. Whatever you want, baby, I’mma do.” Yvonne countered, as she used her hands to take off Theo’s belt.
“I ain’t afraid, bitch! And you best believe I’ll do whatever Theo says too. What do you want us to do, baby? Hmm…?” Not willing to be seen as resistant or uncommitted, Yvette quickly gave her assent, as she began to aid Yvonne in taking off Theo’s belt and blue jeans.
“Alright….” Once his pants had been taken off by the girls, Theo pulled off his own shirt, and laid back on elbows, angled upwards, while still lying on his bed. “Take off your dresses, both of you.” His command wasn’t cold, per se, but instead determined. He knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly how he was going to play the situation to get it. For their part, the competing black girls quickly complied, reaching down, and pulling their dresses up, and over their heads. “Mmmm, nice. Now, take off yer bras, even though yer lookin mighty fine in em.” Despite being off-put by the inclusion of the other in the complement, they again did as told, each removing their bras, in so doing each let their massive tits loose, nipples already hard — ready for what was to come.
And though things seemed to be going smoothly, the two girl’s eyes locked, when their clasps came undone, and a momentarily-suppressed fire again began to burn within them once again — a fire which was made evident when Yvette threw her bra in Yvonne’s face. Yvonne, not willing to take even the smallest provocation without reprisal, threw her own bra at Yvonne, leaving both girls caught in a mutual glare as their rival’s bra slowly fell from their face, to their large and now unrestricted chests, and then down to the floor.
“Ok, girls, you want it that way? Let’s have a little ‘wrassling’ match then. Whoever can take the other’s panties off first, gets the inaugural ride of this cowboy. But I ain’t talking ’bout no fight. Just ‘wrassling’, No punches. No kicks. Not even hair pulling too hard. I want to see who can use their body better, if ya know what I mean.”
As Theo spoke, his two little chocolate went with on an emotional roller coaster. You see, both girls sounded street. Looked street. And wanted to world to think, they were street, but in reality, they couldn’t have been less so. Yvette and Yvonne had both grown up in a nice house, in a white neighborhood, and were actually cheerleaders at their high schools, though they hadn’t told anyone that in years. It wasn’t cool. It didn’t fit the scene. And so when Theo seemed to be suggesting that the two fight, a cold chill ran up their spines. Because despite all the curse words, and ebonic talk, neither had ever been in a fight, or even close to being in one. That fear however, was quickly alleviated, as their country boy explained his rules. Still though, even in their state of relief, they were each still worried. What if they looked silly? What if they lost to the other? Was that it? Was the night over for them? Would they be thrown out into the hallway naked or something? It didn’t matter, for they each had no choice but to do what they were told, or risk losing, without even a chance to play the game.
“Alright, let’s see it, girls.” Theo prodded in a comment that started both women towards one another, their hands out to their sides, fingers spread, in an almost sad, but honestly adorable emulation of what they had each seen other girls do in the movies when combat between them began. Finally, despite the intentional slowness of their movements, the two met just at the foot of the bed, clasping hands, and pressing tits together. And though each felt a burning and intense passion for Theo, and winning his heart for themselves, such was not fully revealed in their ‘wrassling’ struggle, for a multitude of reasons.
One, they had no idea what they were doing, or how they could effectively use their strength, even if they brought it to bear. Two, each was mortified that they would take things too far, and be admonished by Theo for turning things into a fight, when he wanted something far less violent. Three, the two women made the bet, without discussing it, that what Theo really wanted to see, was a show. To see them writhe together. Giant breasts, pressing against the same of their opponent. Thick thighs wrapping around the same of their rival. Perfectly round and ample butts giggling, as the two wrestled each other for control. And so rather than let out their anger, frustration, and jealousy now, they decided in an unspoken agreement, communicated by a lack of resistance alone, to give him what he wanted, saving their energy and true passions for the battles that would come afterward.
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