Dhoodhi Dhood
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Pretty Hood Bitch free porn video
The Negro sat up and pulled the fellatrix off his dick by grabbing a bunch of the platinum, neon green, & jet black box braids. He stretched his arm placing a hand around the knob gobbler’s neck. “I can’t fuckin’ take it,” he groaned.
“Oh, baby,” purred the doe-eyed, mahogany brown vixen. “Let me suck it!”
“I can’t fuckin’ take it,” he reiterated still gripping.
“Bae, stop choking me,” whined the eager pleasure artist. “You play too much!”
“It feel too good!”
“Come on, Daddy. It’s already 5:00 in the morning.”
“So?”
“You know I gotta work.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled removing his hand.
His 8-inch rod jerked about as he flexed his loins. With that, the suck slut was back on his pole. “Fuck, baby! Awwww, fuck!” He was about to blow. “I’ma nut,” he warned. “I’m finna nut!” His body quaked as he shot gobs of gooey, sticky cum on the tart’s face. “Got dayum, bitch!”
“You like that,” giggled the jizz-covered cute.
“Hell yeah,” he huffed. “Damn! You’s a pretty muthafucka.”
“Thank you, bae!”
“Next time I’ma fuck dat ass,” he pinched one of the pierced nipples.
The host gave the guest a warm washcloth. He cleaned up and left. The resident showered quickly, set the alarm, and drifted to sleep.
The slumbering homeowner was Jarrell Nixon also known as J.J. He lived smack dab in the middle of the hood. Because of this, he was a minimalist. He drove an old Honda Accord. He had a ‘not smart’ 42-inch HDTV. Most of his furniture was second hand. He did have a decent desktop computer which was required for work. He wanted to attract as little attention as possible from crackheads, would be burglars, and dumb k**s.
J.J. held a bachelor’s degree in middle grades education and currently taught science for a virtual school.
J.J. woke up and brewed a pot of coffee. He ate a toaster pastry and logged in to the system. He checked & responded to emails then reviewed the lesson plans. Today, he only had 2 live sessions - one covering natural selection & adaptation, the other space systems. The rest of his time would be spent conducting 1:1 calls with students, grading assignments, and fielding whatever else popped up.
At 8:58 a.m., he turned on the camera and began broadcasting. “Good morning, class,” he smiled.
After a productive and lengthy day, the hood loving sissy wanted a drink. He decided to go down to a local bar for happy hour. He completed a preemptive round of douching and took a shower. He didn’t want to have any issues giving up his pum-pum in the case of an impromptu quickie. His personal policy was ‘no painting’. He toweled off and lathered on scented body lotion.
J.J. wore fake lashes, bright pink lipstick, bangle bracelets, big hoop earrings. His outfit consisted of a lavender paisley one-piece skin-tight jumper that showcased his well-rounded rump. He had on a pair of black strappy heels. His toes were glossy with the French tip finish. His fingernails were long spikes painted in various fruity shades with an accent nail, covered in rhinestones, on either hand.
J.J. looked in the mirror. He smacked his lips and said, “You’re such a pretty ass hood bitch!” He grabbed his bedazzled phone case and put the shoulder strap across his body. He locked the door behind him. He strutted down the street.
He passed a group of guys gathered on a porch across the street. “What’s up, J.J.,” one of them yelled. He waved and kept on switching. Four of the five dudes had messed around with him - one multiple times, two just a blowjob or two, and the last a one-night stand till this point.
Once he made it to the second corner, he waited for the light to change. Traffic was light, but he wanted to see what happened as he stood with butt tooted out. A speeding, shimmering Cadillac Brougham with flashy rims rolled past. It’s driver honked the horn. A dude walked and said, “You know you shakin’ dat ass!”
“Thanks,” giggled J.J.
“I hear it’s good,” the scraggly, thick brotha shared.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! Gimme your number.”
“I will on my way back. I’m running late.”
J.J. arrived at the lounge. He walked inside and saw the crowd was thin. It was fine for a Wednesday. He went to the bar and ordered a vodka cranberry. He took a seat at a hightop table and chilled. A couple guys were playing pool.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar raspy voice approached him from behind.
J.J. swiveled around. “Archie,” he beamed. “How are you?”
“I’m good! And you?”
“I’m well. Have a seat.”
“I can’t right now, but just wanted to say hey. You still lookin’ good I see.”
“So are you!”
“Thank you! Maybe we can talk in a few.”
“I’ll be here for an hour.”
“I’ll be back.”
J.J. tingled as he remembered how good Archie’s dick felt in his pussy. The last time they fucked was nearly three years ago. The bald, medium-brown man was 25 years older and still in nice shape.They guy got married and moved away, but lo and behold he had returned.
A sexy Negro with freeform locs entered the lounge. He smiled at someone. J.J. looked down at his phone. Two nights ago he had his legs on that nigga’s shoulders taking his dick. The dude brushed by J.J. on his way to a pool table. “Sup, kitty cat?”
“Hey, Big Daddy!”
The lanky mandingo paused and leaned back slightly. “Dat pussy was good! When I’ma git some more?”
“You tell me. I’ma hit you up this weekend den.”
“Very cool!”
Out of the 16 or so Negroes in the place, just over half of them had gotten their dingalings sucked by J.J. before. Some of them knew it. Others chose to ignore the idea altogether. But all of them wondered who would get in between those solid, substantial bodacious butt cheeks. Very few of them would be willing to walk up and leave out the club with him. So, they texted him. God bless technology.
J.J. had another drink while flirting with the niggas via messaging. He told Archie he wanted some throwback dick. Archie said he would be there in an hour. J.J. gulped down the remainder of the beverage and hailed a ride back home.
J.J. ran inside and took a leak. He poured some vodka to which he added lemonade. He sipped on the concoction as he changed clothes. Eventually, Archie texted letting him know he was about to head that way.
“Come on in,” the host smiled.
“Wow! You still look great,” remarked the older man.
“Thanks, Daddy! So do you! Want a drink?”
“Just a cup and some ice. By the way, you wearin’ that catsuit.”
“You like it,” he twirled.
“Oh yeah! Daddy love that on you.”
J.J. tossed a couple cubes of ice into a clear plastic cup. Archie pulled out a flask and poured in a brown liquid.
“What you drinkin’ on, sexy,” inquired the soul brother.
“You know me. Vodka lemonade, boo,” lisped J.J.
“I see you got a li’l bit thicker.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! It look good on you!”
“Why thank you!”
“When I saw you tonight, my dick got so hard,” confessed Archie.
“You missed me?”
“You one of a kind.”
“Thank god, right?”
“Naw! You laid back, sexy, smart, & good in bed. I should’ve wifed you up instead of the bougie bitch.”
J.J. rolled his eyes. It was the story of his life. Yet another man who realized years after the fact that he could’ve been happy being partnered with J.J. “Is that so?”
“Yeah! Daddy missed this good puss! Can I have some?”
“Of course,” the science teacher nodded.
They went to the master bedroom. Archie fed his hefty ding dong to J.J. he liked the gagging sounds coming from the depths of the humming dicksmoker’s throat. The saliva felt like a warm sponge bath on his coclk. “Damn, gurl! Daddy needed this. Now poke that ass out.”
J.J. bent over the edge of the bed.
Archie examined the round glutes and smacked them. He spread the cheeks apart and spat in the hole. He worked it in with his tongue. Then, he entered J.J.’s rectum.
“Owwwww,” the gayby whined.
“This ass still feel like pussy,” he praised.
“You made it a pussy, Daddy!”
“I damn sho did!” He hammered with full, carefully metered strokes.
“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me, Archie!”
“That’s a good faggit! Open that puss for Daddy!”
“Yes, sir! Oh my god!”
“Mmhmm. Give Daddy that puss, faggit!”
“You like my boipussy!”
“It’s my boipussy! This puss belong to Daddy!”
“Yes, Archie. It’s yours.”
J.J. purred as Archie humped faster and harder.
“Get up on the bed,” the man ordered.
J.J. crawled forward.
Archie pushed the ghetto punk’s face into the mattress. He long-stroked the boogina.
“Oh, Daddy! Fuck me,” wailed J.J.
“Yeah, baby! Daddy gettin’ this puss!”
“I love it!”
“I love you, faggit!”
“I love you too, Daddy!”
“I’m gon’ give you a baby tonight!”
J.J. accepting the onslaught of his tender hole. It was open and slurping.
Archie tensed. His butt flexed. His balls ached and burned. His big dick erupted in J.J.’s warmth.
“Damn,” he collapsed. “I needed that, baby!”
“Me too, Daddy!”
Archie rolled onto his side and pulled J.J. close. They lay there spooning then drifted off to sleep.
“Oh, baby,” purred the doe-eyed, mahogany brown vixen. “Let me suck it!”
“I can’t fuckin’ take it,” he reiterated still gripping.
“Bae, stop choking me,” whined the eager pleasure artist. “You play too much!”
“It feel too good!”
“Come on, Daddy. It’s already 5:00 in the morning.”
“So?”
“You know I gotta work.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled removing his hand.
His 8-inch rod jerked about as he flexed his loins. With that, the suck slut was back on his pole. “Fuck, baby! Awwww, fuck!” He was about to blow. “I’ma nut,” he warned. “I’m finna nut!” His body quaked as he shot gobs of gooey, sticky cum on the tart’s face. “Got dayum, bitch!”
“You like that,” giggled the jizz-covered cute.
“Hell yeah,” he huffed. “Damn! You’s a pretty muthafucka.”
“Thank you, bae!”
“Next time I’ma fuck dat ass,” he pinched one of the pierced nipples.
The host gave the guest a warm washcloth. He cleaned up and left. The resident showered quickly, set the alarm, and drifted to sleep.
The slumbering homeowner was Jarrell Nixon also known as J.J. He lived smack dab in the middle of the hood. Because of this, he was a minimalist. He drove an old Honda Accord. He had a ‘not smart’ 42-inch HDTV. Most of his furniture was second hand. He did have a decent desktop computer which was required for work. He wanted to attract as little attention as possible from crackheads, would be burglars, and dumb k**s.
J.J. held a bachelor’s degree in middle grades education and currently taught science for a virtual school.
J.J. woke up and brewed a pot of coffee. He ate a toaster pastry and logged in to the system. He checked & responded to emails then reviewed the lesson plans. Today, he only had 2 live sessions - one covering natural selection & adaptation, the other space systems. The rest of his time would be spent conducting 1:1 calls with students, grading assignments, and fielding whatever else popped up.
At 8:58 a.m., he turned on the camera and began broadcasting. “Good morning, class,” he smiled.
After a productive and lengthy day, the hood loving sissy wanted a drink. He decided to go down to a local bar for happy hour. He completed a preemptive round of douching and took a shower. He didn’t want to have any issues giving up his pum-pum in the case of an impromptu quickie. His personal policy was ‘no painting’. He toweled off and lathered on scented body lotion.
J.J. wore fake lashes, bright pink lipstick, bangle bracelets, big hoop earrings. His outfit consisted of a lavender paisley one-piece skin-tight jumper that showcased his well-rounded rump. He had on a pair of black strappy heels. His toes were glossy with the French tip finish. His fingernails were long spikes painted in various fruity shades with an accent nail, covered in rhinestones, on either hand.
J.J. looked in the mirror. He smacked his lips and said, “You’re such a pretty ass hood bitch!” He grabbed his bedazzled phone case and put the shoulder strap across his body. He locked the door behind him. He strutted down the street.
He passed a group of guys gathered on a porch across the street. “What’s up, J.J.,” one of them yelled. He waved and kept on switching. Four of the five dudes had messed around with him - one multiple times, two just a blowjob or two, and the last a one-night stand till this point.
Once he made it to the second corner, he waited for the light to change. Traffic was light, but he wanted to see what happened as he stood with butt tooted out. A speeding, shimmering Cadillac Brougham with flashy rims rolled past. It’s driver honked the horn. A dude walked and said, “You know you shakin’ dat ass!”
“Thanks,” giggled J.J.
“I hear it’s good,” the scraggly, thick brotha shared.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! Gimme your number.”
“I will on my way back. I’m running late.”
J.J. arrived at the lounge. He walked inside and saw the crowd was thin. It was fine for a Wednesday. He went to the bar and ordered a vodka cranberry. He took a seat at a hightop table and chilled. A couple guys were playing pool.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar raspy voice approached him from behind.
J.J. swiveled around. “Archie,” he beamed. “How are you?”
“I’m good! And you?”
“I’m well. Have a seat.”
“I can’t right now, but just wanted to say hey. You still lookin’ good I see.”
“So are you!”
“Thank you! Maybe we can talk in a few.”
“I’ll be here for an hour.”
“I’ll be back.”
J.J. tingled as he remembered how good Archie’s dick felt in his pussy. The last time they fucked was nearly three years ago. The bald, medium-brown man was 25 years older and still in nice shape.They guy got married and moved away, but lo and behold he had returned.
A sexy Negro with freeform locs entered the lounge. He smiled at someone. J.J. looked down at his phone. Two nights ago he had his legs on that nigga’s shoulders taking his dick. The dude brushed by J.J. on his way to a pool table. “Sup, kitty cat?”
“Hey, Big Daddy!”
The lanky mandingo paused and leaned back slightly. “Dat pussy was good! When I’ma git some more?”
“You tell me. I’ma hit you up this weekend den.”
“Very cool!”
Out of the 16 or so Negroes in the place, just over half of them had gotten their dingalings sucked by J.J. before. Some of them knew it. Others chose to ignore the idea altogether. But all of them wondered who would get in between those solid, substantial bodacious butt cheeks. Very few of them would be willing to walk up and leave out the club with him. So, they texted him. God bless technology.
J.J. had another drink while flirting with the niggas via messaging. He told Archie he wanted some throwback dick. Archie said he would be there in an hour. J.J. gulped down the remainder of the beverage and hailed a ride back home.
J.J. ran inside and took a leak. He poured some vodka to which he added lemonade. He sipped on the concoction as he changed clothes. Eventually, Archie texted letting him know he was about to head that way.
“Come on in,” the host smiled.
“Wow! You still look great,” remarked the older man.
“Thanks, Daddy! So do you! Want a drink?”
“Just a cup and some ice. By the way, you wearin’ that catsuit.”
“You like it,” he twirled.
“Oh yeah! Daddy love that on you.”
J.J. tossed a couple cubes of ice into a clear plastic cup. Archie pulled out a flask and poured in a brown liquid.
“What you drinkin’ on, sexy,” inquired the soul brother.
“You know me. Vodka lemonade, boo,” lisped J.J.
“I see you got a li’l bit thicker.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! It look good on you!”
“Why thank you!”
“When I saw you tonight, my dick got so hard,” confessed Archie.
“You missed me?”
“You one of a kind.”
“Thank god, right?”
“Naw! You laid back, sexy, smart, & good in bed. I should’ve wifed you up instead of the bougie bitch.”
J.J. rolled his eyes. It was the story of his life. Yet another man who realized years after the fact that he could’ve been happy being partnered with J.J. “Is that so?”
“Yeah! Daddy missed this good puss! Can I have some?”
“Of course,” the science teacher nodded.
They went to the master bedroom. Archie fed his hefty ding dong to J.J. he liked the gagging sounds coming from the depths of the humming dicksmoker’s throat. The saliva felt like a warm sponge bath on his coclk. “Damn, gurl! Daddy needed this. Now poke that ass out.”
J.J. bent over the edge of the bed.
Archie examined the round glutes and smacked them. He spread the cheeks apart and spat in the hole. He worked it in with his tongue. Then, he entered J.J.’s rectum.
“Owwwww,” the gayby whined.
“This ass still feel like pussy,” he praised.
“You made it a pussy, Daddy!”
“I damn sho did!” He hammered with full, carefully metered strokes.
“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me, Archie!”
“That’s a good faggit! Open that puss for Daddy!”
“Yes, sir! Oh my god!”
“Mmhmm. Give Daddy that puss, faggit!”
“You like my boipussy!”
“It’s my boipussy! This puss belong to Daddy!”
“Yes, Archie. It’s yours.”
J.J. purred as Archie humped faster and harder.
“Get up on the bed,” the man ordered.
J.J. crawled forward.
Archie pushed the ghetto punk’s face into the mattress. He long-stroked the boogina.
“Oh, Daddy! Fuck me,” wailed J.J.
“Yeah, baby! Daddy gettin’ this puss!”
“I love it!”
“I love you, faggit!”
“I love you too, Daddy!”
“I’m gon’ give you a baby tonight!”
J.J. accepting the onslaught of his tender hole. It was open and slurping.
Archie tensed. His butt flexed. His balls ached and burned. His big dick erupted in J.J.’s warmth.
“Damn,” he collapsed. “I needed that, baby!”
“Me too, Daddy!”
Archie rolled onto his side and pulled J.J. close. They lay there spooning then drifted off to sleep.
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