Cleaned 24 By timos111@hotmail.com Brad had been increasingly making himself scarce these past few weeks. It seemed he had fallen in with a bunch of musically like-minded guys, and they were working on something big. To Brad, Doug's apartment was now just a place to shit-shower-shave and gobble some cornflakes before dashing off across town for yet another practice session or gig. This suited Janelle just fine, 'cos then the coast would be clear for her to brutalize Doug at her leisure. But on the occasions their paths did cross, Brad would wheedle and whine about Auntie Nerissa's promise to him. "Has she called?" "Who?" "Auntie N. Any message?" "Nope." "But she did mean it, right?" "Mean what?" "About hooking me up with some producers. Some music moguls. She did mean it, right?" "How da fuck should I know?" This kind of response was guaranteed to leave him surly and morose. But amazingly, about three weeks after Hurricane Nerissa had struck the apartment, Janelle was phoned by her and asked to pass on a message to Brad. It was tantalizingly brief. "Be ready at 10.00pm this Friday. Bring your guitar." "Just me? What about my buddies?" "How da fuck should I know?" Janelle was seriously thinking of having that printed as a slogan on a t-shirt, so she could wear it around the apartment and just point at it every time he asked another question. Friday night, at last. Doug was boring the other two stupid by watching CNN. Brad, who'd got himself ready hours before, went to the fridge for a coke. Janelle appeared suddenly beside him in the kitchen, and deftly unzipped the fly of his artfully ripped jeans. He jumped, and nearly dropped his cola. "Janelle!" he hissed so Doug wouldn't hear, "Give it a rest, will ya?" "What undies you got on? I wanna see." "Please! Gimme a break, tonight of all nights!" But he secretly thrilled that her hand was rummaging right next to his dick, which went almost instantly hard. "Brad! You're supposed to be wearing the panties I gave you! Get rid of these briefs at once!" "But ..." "NOW! And I shall want to inspect once you're done changing them." That was more like it. He wouldn't easily forgo another chance to have her fumble with his prick. He was back in an instant, and even undid his fly for her. Janelle inserted her hand to verify from the slippery feel of the fabric that the swap she'd ordered had indeed taken place. She took care to leave her hand against his boner for perhaps a fraction longer than was really necessary. God, the boy was big! But to her, that was completely beside the point. The point was, tonight might be his night. Tonight he'd be strutting his stuff on stage, trying to prove he had the chops to go far in the music biz as a macho gee-tar hero. And all the while he'd have a pair of her own silky, dainty knickers adorning his nether regions. The thought of it was just too delicious! At the appointed time, Auntie N's voice crackled in the apartment speakerphone. "Brad? You ready, boy? Git yer ass on down here!" He shot out the door, with battered Fender guitarcase trailing behind him. Down at street level, Nerissa's imposing bulk was leaning casually against an enormous white stretch- limo pulled up next to the curb. She had party gear on, as did three other black chicks talking and giggling inside. These companions were of far more svelte proportions than Nerissa, which was just as well because there was still quite a log-jam of long dark legs filling the cabin space by the time they had all piled in. Brad tried, fairly unsuccessfully, to avoid glancing up any of their miniskirts. They tittered at his obvious discomfort. "Girls! This is Brad. He wants to be a star." "Hi Braaad!" they all chorussed, and he blushed. He was squashed up hard against Nerissa's meaty thigh. She took up as much seatroom as two of the other ladies combined. They didn't need to be driven all that far, just to the other end of the downtown district. Into a private parking building and then, girls giggling and tottering along on very spiky heels, they crammed into an elevator. They emerged into a lobby, which was full of people. Noisy people. Party people. Young girls, black, white and Asian, in outrageous outfits. Guys ranging from young and cool to middle-aged and moneyed. The drinks had been flowing for a while already, it seemed. Behind them all, he could see through long mid-level windows into inner rooms. Guitars, amplifiers and assorted band gear were set up in there. Tangled black thickets of electric leads dangled and ran everywhere. So - it was a recording studio. Self-consciously he slid his guitar case behind a reception desk to get it out of sight. Over the din and hub-bub, Nerissa spoke in his ear. "They just completed an album." "Who?" She pointed out some faces in the room, and he recognised them at once as a well-respected and already-established hard-rock act. "They finally got it all in the can this afternoon, so they ready to let off some steam now. It's always a milestone, even if that's mostly the easy part." "What is?" "Laying down the tracks. That can happen pretty quick, if they got their shit together. It's the mixing and post-production that takes the time." "But they don't hafta do that, right? They got engineers to do all that." "If they got any sense, they'll stick around for the mixing. It's a critical part of the artistic process." He nodded sagely, as if he already knew that. One of the other chicky-babes re-appeared and pressed a drink into his hand. Bourbon and coke, it tasted like. He barely sipped at it. Gotta stay alert for his big chance. "Tommy!" Nerissa yelled at a paunchy guy walking past. Balding on top, he had long greying hair tied back in a ponytail. "Nerissa!" he acknowledged, "How ya doin'? Thanks for helpin' me keep these guys organised this past week." "Thanks for use of your limo." "You're most welcome." "Tommy this is Brad, the kid I was tellin' ya about the other day." Tommy gave Brad a look up and down, but didn't address him directly. "You said he can play? You heard him already?" "Not yet" Nerissa acknowledged, "but he's keen to jam. I tole him if he falls flat on his ass then that's his own lookout." "Yeah, why not? They'll probably want to crank up some amps in a little while. They're happy to jam with all-comers, so long as you can hold your own." Sure enough, after about another hour of indulgence in alcohol and perhaps one or two other substances, a couple of the guys Nerissa'd pointed out made their way to some instruments set up at the far end of the lobby. They took up the bass, drums and keyboard slots, while the guitars got picked up by people Brad didn't recognise. A blizzard of fat-sounding licks from one of the guitars hushed the room momentarily, then they eased into that staple of all jam sessions, a slow blues. Pretty soon the din from the other merrymakers had risen back to its previous level, but was as nothing now compared to the band as they picked up momentum. The players were slick and professional, yet relaxed and having fun. Playing with humour, almost. And very fucking good. Brad wondered who the guitarists were. He knew they were not members of this particular band. "Where's ya gee-tar?" It was Nerissa that was yelling in his ear. He pointed. "Get it out, and go stand by the speaker stack." "Huh?" "They'll see you, and ask you up." "But ... will they know my stuff? I want to play my stuff!" "Fuck your stuff! If ya wanna get noticed, ya first gotta play well on their stuff! It's their jam!" With these words, she poked him forwards. He was nervous as he stood there waiting. Impatient, too. He wanted to be up and running. They did three numbers before the drummer finally yelled something at one of the guitarists, who un- slung his axe and proffered the jack-plug of its lead to Brad. He stepped up, plugged in, and waited expectantly as the drummer counted them in. It was fast and furious, and he sat out for the first few bars until he'd found his bearings within the tune. As soon as he'd got it he took over the rhythm, blocking in the chords so the other guy could go noodling off into the stratosphere. It was a simple enough tune, built on pretty standard changes. So simple, he really had to do something different with it. These guys were good, and well- respected and everything, but they obviously hadn't yet heard what an unknown bunch of young, pimply and out-of-work teenagers had been brewing lately in the garages of this city. So when it was his turn to blow, it came out like pent-up fury. Fuck tasteful licks, here comes the next New Thing! There was a fuzz-box on the rack in front of him, and he'd kicked it in as soon as he was ready for single-note lines. Jagged, angular phrases, weird tonality that pushed at the boundaries of tunefulness, swooping up to chiming arpeggios that created a massive wall of sound. This boy had been very busy these past few weeks! It was getting attention. Quite a few of the jaded party people there had perked up to check out what was happening. Not that he knew it yet. He could literally play with his eyes closed, and often did just that. His solo reached its crescendo, and burst in an orgasmic rush. Then he eased back into rhythm mode so the keyboard could have a go. He caught the bass player nodding in a grudging approval. It'd come across as kinda weird, but it had worked. This kid could certainly play, and had his own style. Something really fresh. Brad stayed for another tune after that, then the drummer was urging him to unplug for someone else waiting in the wings. He scuttled back to the reception area and stowed his guitar in its case again. Nerissa was there. "What da fuck d'ya call that? I ain't never heard nobody play like that before!" Now Brad may still be young and lacking in confidence on certain matters in life, but on musical issues he had unshakable convictions. "I don't EVER wanna play like anybody you've heard before!" Tommy the Producer sidled up at that moment. "Nice one, kid. That was ... different." "Thanks." "There's more than just the one of you, am I right?" "Yeah, there is." "Are any of you writing at all?" "Yeah, it's totally our own stuff." Tommy pressed a business card into Brad's hand. "Call me when you next got a gig, so's I can check y'all out." "I'll definitely do that." Tommy patted him on his shoulder, then moved on. "Wow!" Brad exclaimed to Nerissa, "Is he serious!" "On music and money, Tommy is always serious." Nerissa replied and added wistfully, "On women, he is never serious." After that Brad relaxed and began to enjoy himself. He felt the way you do at school when exams have just ended. The next six bourbons slid down so nice and easy that he scarcely felt their impact. Then he went to the bathroom for a pee. In order to wash his hands after, he had to jostle for space at the wash-stand. They had a piece of mirror laying flat there, with some lines of powder on it. "Are ya on for some blow?" they asked him, having all just indulged and finding there were a couple of lines left over. Well that's mighty hospitable of them, he thought, and felt too polite to spurn such a gesture. Inexpertly he snorted up a line with the silver tube they'd held out to him, then started on another. "Hey, take it easy!" he was told. "Fuck, you'll be going ape-shit if ya don't watch out!" Back at the party, his glass of bourbon seemed to keep re-filling itself by magic thanks to the attentions of chicky-babe number-two, Darlene. He felt energised. Perceptions clear, and thoughts profound. All systems go. The jam session was roaring full-tilt, yet he could swear he'd still be able to hear a pin drop. Nerissa was saying something to him, but it sounded tiny and far away. He got the urge to be outta there, somewhere clear, somewhere fresh. Somewhere dark. Wandering about the room, he saw a small group head down a corridor and he followed. Through a sliding glass door the corridor opened out onto a roof-top terrace. This was more like it! The breeze was cool and invigorating. The lights of the city looked magical. The higher storeys, with their rooftop superstructure of aerials and dishes, were lit up like an ancient Greek temple. He got close to the edge of the parapet and stood there, pointed up into the breeze. At this altitude the wind had considerable force, and he felt moved to lift his outstretched arms like an albatross ready to take flight. He stood there, transfixed, arms out, bourbon glass still clutched in one hand, and looking for all the world like Christ on Calvary. And that was the way Nerissa found him, after sending out the search parties. She approached him. "Brad? You okay?" To him her voice was still faraway, and it barely registered. He himself seemed incapable of speech. "Brad?" One by one Nerissa uncurled his fingers from the glass in his hand and took it, sniffing its contents suspiciously. She hurled it from the building, making a mental note to interrogate Darlene as to whether she'd been up to any of her tricks again. Then she tried to get his arms back down to his sides. She had to use considerable force. He didn't react at all to being manhandled like this. "Brad! We better go. Can you walk?" Brad didn't answer, and just stared ahead fixedly. Nerissa got her arms around him in a bear-hug and tried to lift him with a view to physically carrying him back in the building. This brought home to her two facts. First, she ain't gonna be able to lift him that way, 'cos he's a big lad. Second, there seemed to be an obstruction that one needed work around, when trying to lift him like that. An obstruction because, well ... because he's a big lad. Just how big, Nerissa suddenly felt honour-bound to ascertain. What was with this colossal boner? Had she herself been the cause of it just now, or was he thinking of something else altogether? Just what he was thinking was impossible to discern, as his mind seemed very far away. Yet that mighty ridge in his trouser front was extremely tangible. She laid a hand upon it to re- check her earlier finding. Yup, that's a boner all right. It must be so confining in there! Such cruel, tight jeans. It must be begging for release! In a trice Nerissa had him undone and sent in an exploratory hand. Weird briefs, kinda slippery- feeling for a guy's, and of dimensions woefully inadequate to contain all of that cock. She fished it out. Fuck! Nerissa had a long familiarity with cocks. In fact, she and cocks go way back. But this one took the cake. Fuck! Look-it the size o' that thang! She sank to her knees, and gazed in awe. Wonderful cock! So big, so strong! So ... so ... To hell with superlatives, actions always spoke louder than words. She fell upon it. Wrapped her full lips around it. Slurped it in, and devoured it. She was at it for some considerable time. It got harder, bigger, if that were possible. She was blowing him as vigorously as she'd ever done to anyone in her life, really going to town on it. She felt possessed by a strong urge to make him spurt, to have him shoot all over her billowy boobs, to watch his reactions as she held his life in her hands and extracted every last drop of his very essence. To test her power to reduce that mighty weapon back down to cute-n-cuddly mode. She glanced up to give him what she considered to be one of her most smouldering looks, and saw ... no reaction. He was still staring fixedly forward. Fuck, was this boy ever gonna cum? Didn't look like it. Exasperated, she gave up and stowed his tackle back in his trousers. This was obviously going to take time. Her urge was nevertheless increased rather than lessened by this set-back. Better go get help. Gotta get the boy into the right environment. She returned in a jiffy with one of the roadies, and between the two of them they got Brad back inside to the elevator. No one paid them any attention - bodies being carried out were obviously a familiar sight at these functions. They bundled Brad into the limo, and Nerissa thanked the roadie for his assistance. Then it was "Home, James!" to the driver. They got him up to her apartment by the same method, and she tipped James handsomely by the time he was done. After locking the apartment door she turned, laced her fingers together, and flexed her chubby arms out in front of her to make her knuckles crack. Well Nerissa, this is going to be a challenge! She tugged and rolled him about the bed until his shirt was off and his jeans were partway down. Goddam! What the hell are those? Girl's panties! Well I'll be darned, Nerissa thought to herself. She pulled them down his thighs a tad, then did another double-take. He had absolutely no pubic hair. His cock and balls were as bare and smooth as a baby's bottom. This kid is obviously weirder than she thought. She got rid of the panties along with his jeans, thus rendering him completely naked. Then she poured herself out of her own slinky outfit. Her colossal boobs were heaving from all of this exertion, so she paused to catch some breath and admire her handiwork. He appeared to be conscious, but remained passive. He looked beautiful - a true Adonis. Wonderfully sculptured physique, nil body hair, milk-white complexion. And that enormous phallus, still fully erect. She was going to take her time and enjoy this. He must surely succumb. Ain't no cock had ever got her beat before now! She got on the bed beside him, making the mattress sink down by about two feet. Her huge brown butt rose up like a mountain, while her stomach hung down completely hiding her pussy from view. Build him up slowly, that'd be the way to go. She ran her hands lightly all over his chest and washboard stomach, and circled his inner thighs. She kept looking for a reaction, but got none. She grasped that enormous dick, and started gently tugging its foreskin back and forth over the glans. He was uncircumcised, so ought to be sensitive. She leaned over a bit so her tongue could now tease his nipple. If he liked that, he didn't show it. This ought to be getting him worked up. Ought to have him wanting to touch her in return, fondle her, man- handle her, mount her, pound her to a ... Nope. He was still a zombie. She leaned across him further and flopped a tit over his face, contriving to have its nipple gently rub across his lips. She took his hand and pressed it to her snatch, trapping it there between her huge and dimpled thighs. Still nothing. That prick was hard in the extreme, though. Something must be getting through. And she was horny. Ya don't see a cock like that every day! Be a shame not to use it! She got up and straddled him, holding his dick up to herself and gingerly inserting it. Nerissa was certainly no tight virgin, but she had to really take care with this particular donger. God, it was a snug fit! She steadily lowered herself until she reached its hilt. She felt stretched, really filled by him. She began some gentle fuck motions, to get her insides accustomed to his size. It was amazing how the human body can adapt! He still hadn't batted an eyelid. Nor did he as Nerissa began humping him harder. Tits flailing, rump heaving back and forth, she hurled herself against him time and again. She kept this up until she reached the limits of exhaustion, by which time she had achieved a total of three orgasms. Finally she had to roll off him and lay there, panting and spent. His fully-erect dick glistened with her juices in the glow of the bedside night-light. His eyes were open, but still nothing seemed to register. And he still hadn't cum. Nerissa had to admit defeat. Tired and sated, she dozed off and left him to it. She awoke from a feeling that she was being watched. It was now morning - there was daylight streaming through a small gap in the drapes. Brad had his head propped up on one elbow, and was gazing down at her. How long he'd been doing that, she had no way of knowing. She was naked as a jaybird, but hey, what the hell, so was he. "Good morning, Auntie N." "It talks! A fuckin' miracle!" Her next thought was to glance down at his cock. It was now soft and flaccid, yet still bigger while down than most men when up. "This dick of yours, does it work properly?" "Sure. It works fine." "It didn't work last night. I nearly had a hernia tryin' ta get you to jizz!" "You looked to be having fun, though." "You swine! You were hip to what was happenin' the whole goddam time?" "Yeah, sort of. I mean, I was pretty wasted. But you do make a strong impression on a fella." "I kin make a strong impression on your face with a bunch of fives, you contrary, no-good, dumb-ass white boy! You had me workin' like a niggah for every last orgasm! Poundin' my pussy is supposed to be the man's job!" "Sorry. But at least you had an orgasm!" "Don't tell me, you still haven't cum? I would’a thought you’d have jerked yourself off by now, the way you been spyin' on me in my sleep!" "No, honest! I been waiting for you to wake up." "Waiting?" she taunted. "Waiting for ... what?" Brad blushed crimson, and remained silent. "And another thing. What the hell are these?" She held up the pair of panties she'd found him wearing. He blushed even deeper crimson. Oh fuck, he'd forgotten about those. "C'mon! The truth now!" "I ... ah ... well ... Janelle wanted me to wear them." "WHAT!??!" "Janelle. She gave me instructions to put them on." "Since when does Janelle give you instructions?" "Since she ... ah ... caught me jackin' off with a pair of hers I took from the laundry basket. She says I now have to wear 'em all the time, or she'll tell Doug on me." "Did she now, the little bitch!" Nerissa's mind was reeling with this new information about her niece. In fact, she was almost in a state of shock. "And what else does she instruct you to do?" "A coupla times she's made me jack off in front of her. And lately she made me shave off my crutch hair." "Anything else?" "No, that's it." Poor, naïve kid, Nerissa reflected. She was certainly going to chew out a piece of Janelle next time they got together. Cradle-snatcher! Inflicting God knows what kind of kink on a mere boy! She should pick on somebody her own size! And speaking of size ... she found herself glancing at his dick again. There was unfinished business here. And she found that she still had an appetite. It'd better be different from last night though! Could she make a man of him yet? It was worth a try. She slithered right the way across to him, and found him expectant, hopeful. They immediately went into a clinch, and her mouth found his. Their lips mashed together, tongues swirling frantically as each made strong efforts to penetrate the other's mouth. Hands were going everywhere, groping, grabbing, tugging, teasing. He grappled with her fat pussy, sliding his fingers along the deep trench surrounding her slit. Her hands were at his cock, naturally. It swelled and throbbed under her touch. It felt enormous. Nerissa came up for some air. "Skip the foreplay. Just fuck me." She rolled onto her back, flung her massive legs as far apart as they could go, and pulled her stomach up out of the way. He reared above her and literally dived on top. He wasn't very gentle about entering her. His cock slid in with the easy force of a hydraulic ram, and he heard her go "Ooooof!" She didn't complain though, and grabbed two fist-fulls of his pale buttocks in an effort to force him in deeper. He responded in good measure. Starting out slowly owing to the tightness of the fit, he soon found the grip of her fanny upon him so delicious that it seemingly urged him to go faster. For her part, she did not often come across a dick as satisfying as this one. Who said size doesn't matter? Bullshit. This was fuckin' glorious. She felt possessed, ravished. Stretched wide open and pinned to the bed. Oh wonderful schoolboy! Go harder! Fuck me harder! Fuck me 'til it hurts! Nerissa was quaking like a jelly, big boobs rolling loosely about her chest. Each of Brad's powerful thrusts sent big waves rippling through her brown flesh, as if boulders were being dropped into a pool of molten chocolate. "Oh Brad! Ohhhhhh faaaaarrrrk! Nnnggggghhhhh! Ohhhh-oh!" He in turn gasped repeatedly, and even gave out a few grunts as his buttocks went into overdrive. The convulsions of her orgasm squeezed upon his cock, which was now itself in spasms. His cum flowed everywhere, in her and dripping out of her. It was massive. He hadn't known his balls could even hold so much cum. But then again, it had been ... ahem ... a long time cumming! Chest heaving, the beautiful boy rolled off her and collapsed at her side. The smell of sex hung heavy in the room. Jeezuz! So this is what's meant by "a woman of passion"! A far cry indeed from the timid and nervous white girls he'd dated in high school, who always treated his dick as warily as if it were a rattlesnake! Nerissa recovered her breath and re-focussed her vision, turning to look at Brad in wonder. She felt very sticky and messy down there right now, and more than a little tender. How long might it be before she could walk properly again? She reached out a hand and encircled his now deflated dick. "Lovely boy. This prick is gonna be mine from now on." He gazed into her soft brown eyes. "Y'know, Auntie N, I watched you for ages while you were sleeping. You look so beautiful." Ah, Brad! She felt sure she was going to bless the day she found him!