A Big Girl's Revenge

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A Big Girl's Revenge Page 2

by Ms. Michel Moore


  Keisha had discovered Rico was bipolar shortly after their first meeting. However, his chiseled body and the long, thick-tongue work he’d put in between her thighs when in the mood was more than she could or would be able to resist. Those factors, along with the wishful thinking she could miraculously change Rico into a nine-to-five working dude instead of a petty, irresponsible street corner hustler kept her hanging on.

  “Just hurry up,” she whined, bracing herself for what was coming next. “I’m tired of this mess! I swear I’m tired! I’m fucking tired!”

  “What’d you say? I know you ain’t telling me what to do!” Pre-cum moisture formed on the tip as he roughly shoved his fully erect meat in her already moist hole from the rear. With his shorts now down past his knees resting on top of his boots, Rico showed her no mercy. “I call the shots! I done told your fat ass, I’m running the show! Now beg daddy to fuck you harder!”

  “Noooooo . . . .stop!” The hairy lips surrounding Keisha’s pussy spread as Rico’s body rammed hers with fast, penetrating strokes followed by slow, deep strokes to the left and right, then accelerating again.

  “No? Fuck no! What I tell you about telling me no?” He went in deeper, waiting for an answer. “I can’t hear you. Huh? What?” Shirtless, a tattoo-covered, muscular Rico watched himself in the mirror savagely punish Keisha’s already sore cunt. “You want me to run up in your ass instead? Huh? You want all this good black dick in that tight hole. Is that what you want? Huh, is it?”

  “Wait, Rico. Wait. Slow down,” Keisha begged while panting, short of breath.

  Every deep-rooted thrust he took, his facial expression changed as if he were performing for an audience or making a low-budget porno. Using his strong calves for support, Rico showed Keisha exactly who was boss in their small household. In and out, out and in. Slow stroking, then fast as hell, his loud moans and grunts intensified.

  “Yeah, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Give all that shit to daddy, you stanking-ass, nasty-mouthed bitch! Give daddy all that cat.” Sweat pouring off his forehead, Rico pounded her pussy to the left then to the right. With no regard for the sexual pain he was inflicting, Rico treated Keisha’s hairy snatch no better than he would a five-dollar whore in the street.

  With each position change of his harsh, penetrating movements, Keisha could feel his pipe stabbing the raw inner walls of her shivering body. It was if she could feel him in her womb and touching her spine. Getting tingling chills when Rico’s big nut sac touched her skin, she wanted to scream out in pain and, strangely, maybe a little in passion; but she refused to give Rico’s disrespectful ass the satisfaction.

  Easily caught up in his own arrogant world, his huge ego needed no encouragement. Squeezing his left hand around her thick waist, he had malice in his heart. Disrespectfully, Rico used his right hand to twist Keisha’s weave in between his fingers.

  “Urr, urr, yeah, hell yeah! Don’t move, bitch. Right there—right fucking there. You like this big black log daddy got, don’t you? Don’t you?” He grunted as if he would really get a response to his strong-arm tactics, which were nothing short of rape. “Tell daddy you love his good dick. Tell me you want it, bitch. Tell me.”

  Keisha couldn’t catch her breath to respond. Even if she could, what would she say to the man she once proclaimed to love so much? Frustrated and tortured, as Rico mounted her like a wild dog, her upper body broke down and collapsed. No longer squirming or fighting the inevitable, she gave up. Every hole in her body belonged to Rico, and before the morning was over, she knew his freaky ass would abuse them all with his dick, his finger, his tongue, or whatever other object he chose to violate her with.

  With her arms stretched out, Keisha’s perfectly manicured, square-shaped nails clawed the sides of the wooden dresser that was now rocking back and forth. The more brutal force Rico used in banging the cow shit out of her, the weaker her knees and ankles became. Realizing she was going to be once again late for work, Keisha zoned out as Rico smushed the side of her jaw onto the top of the dresser.

  Face to face with a hairbrush, a bottle of cheap knockoff perfume, a can of oil sheen, and a small tube of vanilla-scented lotion, the newly promoted assistant office manager at Compuware knew she was as good as fired.

  Maybe I can suck my boss’s dick again in his office or let him watch me eat his wife’s pussy like last time I was late. Thoughts ran through Keisha’s mind at a fast rate, wondering how she could keep her paycheck. Unbelievably, if she were fired this time, it would be the third job she’d lost since originally hooking up with Rico and ultimately leaving the carefree lifestyle of her parents’ house. Why me? I try so hard, God, so why me? I hate him so much!

  Maybe if Rico hadn’t totaled her truck, she’d have a chance to make it to work on time. Possibly, if she wasn’t responsible for paying all the bills, she could afford to take a cab. But, thanks to her so-called man and his roguish behavior, it was a wrap. She’d definitely miss her bus, probably ending another hard-earned, much-needed job.

  “You like this good black dick, don’t you? You daddy’s little slut, ain’t you?” He pounded as sweat poured down from his forehead, dripping onto her spread-wide ass cheeks. “Ain’t you?”

  Keisha didn’t respond, causing a good shit-talking Rico to go in even harder with his banging and the hurtful, cruel insults.

  I hate everything about him. I swear I do. I just wonder why I keep allowing all this bullshit. I wonder why I put up with him. I had so much good going on in my life before I met his silly ass. So what I’m a little thick? I know I could’ve still did better than him. One day he gonna pay for treating me no better than shit on a stick. I don’t deserve this. I’m better than this no matter what in the hell he say. Keisha’s mind was racing with thoughts of resentment. With every movement, she felt enraged.

  Rico was, of course, in the dark. Having been the dominant leader throughout their troubled relationship, he knew Keisha would never plot on him, let alone have enough courage to call herself leaving him.

  “Why you so quiet, big girl? Huh? Huh? You usually a loud-talking bitch. Where’s all that lip, with ya bumpy-faced ass? Where it’s at?” He eased his dick out her hole, looking down on the thick, creamy cum that had accumulated on the shaft. Roughly, he slammed it back in, making her body shake and the dresser move. “You wasn’t quiet when my boy and his ho-ass cousin was running up in you, was you? You was screaming and hollering like there ain’t no tomorrow—begging for more.”

  With their red nose pit-bull, Kilo, now in the bedroom with his tongue hanging to the side, watching his master beat it up, Keisha didn’t want to say anything out of the way to her so-called man to piss him off any further. Last time she did, Rico let the dog lick her pussy while he recorded it on his cell phone. Rico coldheartedly sent it to all his friends and hers. He even posted it on YouTube, but thankfully, someone reported it as obscene before it received a lot of views.

  I can’t keep living like this! I just can’t! I’d rather be dead. Ashamed of the true freak she’d become and still very much relentlessly addicted to Rico’s perverted dick game, the once good girl was speechless. Struggling to endure all eight rock-hard, curved inches of the DLA-CERTIFIED thug beating it up from the rear, Keisha Jackson tightly shut her eyes. Lost in the darkness, her mind drifted back almost a year prior; back to the day she first met her supposed soul mate and man of her dreams, Rico Campbell; back to the day she wasn’t considered a slut, a tramp, and a ho.

  Chapter Two

  I think I’m Big Meech . . . Larry Hoover . . . whipping work . . . hallelujah.

  It was the hottest day of the summer season. The sounds at River Rouge Park were banging from every car and rimmed-up truck that crept through the main strip. Half-dressed females and wanna-be thugs were out and about. The three-day weekend Detroit’s own homegrown rap group Rock Bottom was famous for sponsoring was finally winding down. The first night was an off the chain concert at Chene Park, followed by the annual picnic.

/>   Dressed in beige-colored army fatigues and Timberland boots, the tightly knit DLA clique was representing in full force. Sure, there were people hailing from the Eastside as well as the West, but Dexter Linwood Area guys were definitely holding the spot down. That’s what they did in Detroit . . . held wherever they went down.

  Rico Campbell, Swazy, and the rest of the crew posted up on the north end of the crowded festivities. Packing chromed-plated nines in their waistbands just in case a nigga wanted some, they downed the rest of the keg they’d chipped in for. Belching three or four times in a row, an out-his-mind Rico quickly sobered up at the sight of one of the roundest, most perfectly shaped asses he’d seen all afternoon.

  “Shit, where you been all day?” Rico leaned off the grill of the silver-and-red-trimmed F-150 he was pushing. Moving his thick, freshly twisted dreads out his face, he made his way over to the small group of giggling females. Not sure of exactly who he was talking to, all the girls blushed while praying they were the lucky one in question.

  “You fine as a motherfucker,” he slurred, half out his mind.

  “Who, me? You talking to me?” Keisha was admittedly shocked, to say the least, when Rico grabbed her hand, turning her completely around, inspecting the total package.

  Lusting at her wide hips and extra plump blessing from God, Rico, always horny, grinned. He tugged at his pole that was bulging through his camouflage pants. “Yeah you, ma. Damn, what’s your name, big girl?”

  “Keisha,” she nervously answered as her heart raced.

  “Well damn, Keisha, what you got up when you leave here?” Rico was drunk as shit and high as hell. He’d been talking trash to women all afternoon and collecting numbers. Now, the three-day Rock Bottom weekend was ending, and he needed a hot and ready bed warmer for the night.

  Rico never had a problem getting a female to give up her goodies, but keeping them around was a different thing altogether. Even though he was more than official in the bedroom department, his ridiculous, rude, and most times over-the-top behavior would result in any half decent, self-respecting, sensible female to get the fuck on. So, whether light-brown-chocolate-complexion-with-a bad-case-of-acne, slightly overweight Keisha was his type or not—it was the chase of the game Rico loved. He collected pussy like some people collected loose change in ajar.

  “Umm, me and my girls going down to the IHOP on Jefferson near the Isle, then maybe the casino.” She sheepishly twirled her long micro-braids around her fat fingers, hoping his attention was not a joke.

  “Oh yeah, for real?” Rico took the time to check out her friends, quickly sizing each female up one by one.

  Damn, these some huge hoes. No wonder they going to eat. That’s probably all they hungry asses do. He realized they were all pretty much big-boned, to put it nicely, but at that point, it didn’t matter. He wanted to run up in Keisha’s wide ass from the back, so he thought he’d give it a shot with the fellas.

  “Well, umm, let me see what my dudes got up. We might roll out with y’all.”

  “Okay.” Keisha giggled with her girlfriends at his suggestion. They all hoped for the best response, but expected the worst.

  As the anxious, chunky clique, dressed in their summer’s best Lane Bryant outfits, waited underneath the cool shade of the tree, Rico went to work on his crew.

  “Come on, y’all. Niggas is bailing up out this motherfucker left and right with bitches,” he reasoned while pulling up on his sagging fatigues. “We might as well chill with that big-booty freak over there and her girls. Look at they desperate asses,” Rico whispered low key in an attempt to persuade them. “You know we can all hit tonight. Come on, now. Don’t leave ya manz hanging.”

  Swazy, Rico’s main man and the soberest out the crew, laughed out loud, not giving two shits if the big-boned bitches heard him or not. “Dawg, is you blind or what? That last cup of Old E got you blew back way too far. Big girl that need the Proactiv and ’em is some ugly throwaways. I ain’t sticking my dick up in none of they big-bear husky asses. You can forget that, my dude. On everything I love, you on your own on smashing that.”

  Keisha and her friends might have been overweight and not missing any meals, but the group definitely wasn’t deaf. Catching serious attitudes, they were immediately offended by Swazy’s insensitive name-calling. Used to playing second fiddle to all the extra-skinny, model-type chicks that ran the streets of Detroit, they didn’t say a single word. Instead, rolling their eyes, they all turned away, heading toward the parking lot. Rico, stalking Keisha’s wide hips swinging from side to side, felt his little head swell, convincing his big head she really wasn’t that tore up in the face.

  “Yo, wait up, girl.”

  “For what?” Keisha momentarily paused as her girls continued walking. “So your boy can say more rude, outlandish garbage?”

  Rico jogged over to her. Standing face to face, he moved his dreads out his eyes. Shit! What the fuck! In the sunlight, he realized Swazy was right. Ole girl wasn’t all that cute, but still, her thick body was kinda slamming.

  “Damn, girl, why is you tripping? I ain’t say that shit. I still wanna hang with you.”

  “You do?” Keisha, 22 and still somewhat a virgin, was overjoyed a guy as handsome as Rico was interested in her. “Well, do you wanna meet us down there at IHOP?”

  “Listen, I need to dip to the crib for a few, then I’ma get back up with you. Just put your number in my cell.” He handed her his iPhone. “And put Sexy Key for your name.”

  Practically snatching the cell out his hands, Keisha happily did as instructed with her “big girl crew” looking on with anger and disgust. “Well, call me later. I’m gonna go drop them off as soon as we finish eating.”

  “Oh, that’s you?” Shocked, Rico motioned toward the gold-colored Yukon Denali the now disgruntled clique of women were standing next to.

  “Yeah, that’s me.” Keisha, Grosse-Pointe-raised and spoiled by her rich parents, was used to brothers from around the way only caring about her plump, oversized ass or the whip she was driving. So, his reaction to the costly truck or his boys’ comments about her overall appearance was nothing new. Although, by the looks of the expensive jewelry Rico was rocking and the shiny F-150 he was posted on, Keisha assumed he had his own share of hood riches. Fine as he was in her eyes, even if Rico sold crack to pregnant women and small kids on the playground to get his money or set innocent animals on fire, Keisha couldn’t care less. He seemed to want her, and desperate to be loved, nothing else mattered.

  Saying their temporary goodbyes, Rico schemed while watching Keisha walk away and then roar off in her truck.

  Damn, what these niggas talking about? I’ma be pushing that motherfucker quick, fast, and in a hurry. Ole girl seem like she got that serious bread. I’m about to use the shit outta her dumb ass! If she wanna be with a guy like me, she gotta be dropping that bread. Her goofy ass gotta pay like she weigh.

  * * *

  Once in her truck, Keisha exhaled. Her heart was racing and her throat was dry. She felt chill bumps. She couldn’t believe she’d just been chosen like that. She always dressed nice, and a few guys from her father’s job used to try to push up on her, but to her it was all fun and games. Their whistles or failed attempts of flirting were just that: fails. Keisha didn’t know if they meant it or were just trying to low-key get on her dad’s good side. Nevertheless, this experience was different, much different. As she drove, she gripped the steering wheel, feeling as if she’d just hit the lottery. Naïve to real game, she had no idea that it was just the opposite.

  “Girl, I know damn well you didn’t give that two-bit-ass thug your real number!”

  “What you mean?” Keisha raised her brow.

  “I mean after all that foul-mouth shit he was talking on the sly, I wanted to slap the fire outta his mouth my damn self. So, I know you was offended, ’cause he was directing that garbage basically directly at you,” one of Keisha’s friends protested. “Big girl this, big girl that. I swear dudes these
days be killing me. Running around Instagram liking all those skinny females’ pictures when they know all along they trying to go large.”

  “Yeah, I guess you right, but—”

  “But nothing. Old boy was trying to pretend he all right with thick-boned females, but him and his boys was laughing. Like we all some sort of jokes or something.”

  “He seemed nice. And real talk, I am a big girl, and so are you. So, what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nice? Is that what you call some drunk, random-ass thug that called you a big girl to your face? Ain’t a damn thing wrong with being thick. I love all my curves. But that fool wasn’t trying to be cool. He called himself dissing you and all of us.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Girl, I know so. I can’t believe after all that money your parents wasted on school you can’t see that bullshit! I’m shocked you ain’t peeped that out.”

  Keisha was tired of the impromptu lecture. Reaching over, she turned up the radio. Allowing the loud music to drown out her friend’s negative, ill-toned conversation, she maneuvered her way through traffic and out of the park. Finally coming to a red light, Keisha glanced up in the rearview mirror on the sly, then over at her best friend.

  Hmph, she just jealous he didn’t step to her. For once, the fine-ass nigga chose me and not her. Bitches can’t never be happy for the next female. What’s wrong with him calling me that? I’m fly as fuck anyway it goes.

  * * *

  The next few days, the ill-matched pair was practically inseparable. It didn’t take ladies’ man Rico long to discover his assumptions were one-hundred percent correct. Keisha did have a bankroll. Having a good paying job, her finances were in order and her credit was A1. Growing up on the streets of Detroit, Rico was gonna get his by any means necessary. The fact that Keisha was getting most of her dough from her well-off parents still didn’t matter to him. Their money spent just as well as hers, and his main objective was self-satisfaction.

 

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