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atasteofmir · 2 days ago

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I’m drooling 😩😩😩😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Drunk dick be hitting the best especially when it’s yo man 😘🤌🏽👏🏽

Heyyyyy!!! HERE ME OUT 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾. Terry x reader went out for the night and he gets a lil tipsy and by the end of the night he need dat😏😏. So so very nasty cuz he get real nasty after a few drinks🫣🫣

I Get Filthy

.summary. sanai and terry go out with their friends. between shot and music, terry let's loose, or was it all a game?

His breath was hot on the back of her neck and if it had been anyone else she would have cursed them out. Instead she was trying to push off her slightly drunk man and his wandering hands. They were in the middle of the club, bodies pressed together, while he downed another shot she had no idea he went and got. They were out with friends, celebrating a milestone for one of them and their career in medicine. She hadn't expected Terry to let loose, but when the third drink came to their table, and the two shots the flirty ass bartender passed were drunk, liquid courage filled his veins as the animal surfaced.

Currently swaying side to side, Terry had one hand on Sanai's breast, occasionally squeezing in time to the music. His thumb flicked across her nipple through the satin low cut material.

"Terry!" She hummed, turning her head to look up at him.

His eyes were low, a little bloodshot and his full lips were parted as he breathed and sung to the music. He looked down at her and tried to wink, both eyes closing instead of one. She let out a laugh and patted his leg.

"You're drunk,' she says. "Are you ready to go home?"

Instead, Terry let her go and found his way to the dance floor, hyped up by his equally drunk friends.

"I need that,' he grunted, ripping at her dress as soon as they stepped into their hotel suite.

Sanai almost tumbled backwards in her heels before he caught her, hoisted her up over his shoulder, and half stumbled to the bedroom. Sanai landed with a thud and Terry began a slow strip tease as she watched. No music, but he sung the lyrics to I'm In Love With A Stripper. The last song the club had played as she tried pulling him from the dance floor to the exit. His Marine friends, along with her girlfriends had hyped him up, passing him shots because they all knew Terry didn't get this lit.

"Need what?" She said, teasing him as she pulled the straps down of her dress.

"That pussy,' he slurred, giving her a cheeky grin.

He dropped a knee to the bed and began a slow crawl to her. His cheeks were flushed, face slightly tinted red from the alcohol running through his veins. The was the last thing they needed to be doing. Terry was an animal any other time in bed, able to flip her up and over at his will. But drunk Terry? A demon.

A hand grabbing her ankle pulled her from her thoughts. Terry pulled her downwards towards him and planted a long wet kiss to the corner of her mouth. Sanai laughed and adjusted his head, letting his long tongue pushed into her mouth. The kiss was nasty and wet. Their full lips smacking against each other as they took turns stripping each other down. Terry pulled his mouth away and pushed apart Sanai's legs, his dick was hard and heavy between his legs as it slipped free from his briefs.

"I've been wanting to fuck,' he starts, unable to finish as Sanai helps him by guiding his dick to her wet folds.

She rubs his tip up and down in her wetness, coating his length as she stroked him. She knew his balls were heavy and while he was trying to balance himself she reached beneath him and cupped them, her hand massaging them as precum leaked from his tip into her palm.

"Shit,' Terry hissed, 'let me, Nai, bay,' he stammered, his mind foggy as he tried to find the words to control the situation and her.

"Nah, you said you need that. Let me give it to you Daddy,' she purred. "You're so drunk,' she teased.

"No I…not,' he pushed her into the bed and hoisted her legs over his arms, letting them rest in the crook of his elbow. Splayed out, Sanai reached between her legs, playing with her pussy as his hooded hazel eyes watched her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his stomach muscles clenching at the thought of sinking into her pussy.

So he did.

Terry's first thrust was messy and hard. Sanai slapped her hands down on his shoulder, holding on as his hips drove forward. His thrusts were slopping and uncontrolled. The lack of coordination led to Sanai being able to push her thighs forward to drop them from his arms. Distracted, she wrapped them around his waist and flipped them over. Her hands fell on his chest, using him for balance as she began to rock her hips back and forth.

"Let me be in control,' Sanai says, her voice even as she sinks back down on his dick.

Terry grabs her hips, holding her for support as she rode him on her tiptoes, swirled her hips, and bounced until a white creamy mess was made between them. Terry was vocal. Panting and moaning about how tight her pussy was. How wet she was. How she wss wetting him up. Sanai reached up and grabbed his throat with one hand, his eyes shot open at her aggressive hold and she felt his dick twitch inside of her. Thick and pulsing, Terry lifted his hips, seeking out her warmth as she rode him.

"Like a mechanical bull,' he sung, Beyonce's lyrics replacing his moans. "Fuck it,' he giggled, changing the words. This wasn't even sex anymore, this was a show. "Look at that horse, look at that horse, look at that horse,' he said, slapping her thighs each time.

Sanai squeezed his neck tighter, he choked, and she leaned down to kiss him.

"I'm riding my steed,' she mumbled.

"For his seed,' he grunts out just before flipping them back over.

Terry pushed to the hilt, his hips rotating in circles as his voice deepened. "Aight,' he said, sounding more clear than he had since before they left the house. "Playtime over,' he smacked his lips against hers, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth before biting her lip.

He pushed his hips forwards, sinking deep into her pussy until squelching sounds fill the room. The scent of their combined sex fills the air around them, choking them both until they were gasping for air in time to his thrust. He laid on top of her, hugging her body close as he rocked his hips, pistoned them between her legs until her thighs were shaking. She could taste the hennessy on his lips, the lemon drop he stole from her lingered in the back of his mouth as her tongue explore his uvula.

He pulled his head away just enough to whispered in her ear.

I know my pussy creaming.

Wet that shit up for me.

That it's baby, take it. Take it. TAKE. IT.

Sanai was sure the people in the other rooms could hear them. The bed was smacking against the wall as she cried out for Terry to let up, his hips roughly pounding against hers.

Tears prickled in her eyes and she turned her head into his neck, his sweat dripping onto her body as his hands wandered down to her waist. Brusingly, he held them and pulled upwards, holding her to him and impaling her on his length.

"Terry,' she stuttered, hands going down to push at his stomach. "Please!"

He smacked her hands away, his thumb finding her clit as he found his groove. Realization set in as they made eye contact and he winked. Bastard's alcohol tolerance was through the fucking roof. Of course it was, he was a fucking Marine.

"Nah,' he says, eyes never leaving the way his dick slid in and out of her pussy, 'you're gonna take this dick until I nut, then I'm going to fuck it back in until you do." He leaned down, the sudden push forward caused his dick to brush against her cervix, reminding her of how deep he could go if he wanted.

"Then you're gonna get on your knees and lick all that shit up."

Sanai's eyes rolled to the back of her head as he grabbed her chin in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I've been drinkin'' he hummed.

This is exactly what Beyonce wrote the song for.

Taglist

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo @virgomess @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

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atasteofmir · 5 days ago

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Goshhhhh everything about this got me blushing and I love me some role play. My girl thought she was in control whole time that man running the whole show!!!!! 😩😩😩😮‍💨😮‍💨

Everything about that man is so addicting!!! At this point im a build my own Terry 😂��.

The Games We Play | Aaron Pierre

pairing: aaron pierre x black reader

warnings: smut (18+), oral (f receiving), cuckholding adjacent teasing (if you squint), power play, lap dance, slight exhibitionism } lmk if you think i missed anything else

summary: a slow, smouldering game of seduction where only one man truly knows how the night will end.

word count: 2.4K

The club’s upstairs lounge was drenched in low, sultry lighting, a haze of deep red and gold reflecting off velvet-lined booths. A slow bassline throbbed through the air, thick and languid, setting the rhythm of the night. The space had been cleared out save for a few club workers lingering in the periphery, but none of them mattered.

Not to him.

Aaron sat in the farthest booth, nestled in shadow, the amber glow of his bourbon catching the light as he swirled it idly in his glass. He looked like a man at ease, posture draped in practiced indifference. But anyone watching closely would see the tension in his grip, the slight clench of his jaw. He wasn’t here for indulgence.

He was here for her.

And then—she arrived.

Moving through the room like liquid sin, she commanded attention without asking for it. A dress that sculpted every curve, heels that clicked against the floor in a slow, deliberate cadence. Eyes followed her. Men shifted in their seats, glances dark with intrigue, hunger.

She was a vision. A fantasy draped in silk.

But she only had eyes for one man. And he knew it.

A slow smirk curved against the rim of his glass as he took a measured sip, watching her, waiting. Letting the game unfold exactly the way it was meant to.

The moment she stepped into the light, she felt it—felt the weight of eyes tracing her every movement, felt the pulse of attention thick in the air.

She thrived in it.

Let them look. Let them hunger. Let them fantasise.

Because none of them would have her.

She moved like temptation incarnate, slow and deliberate, feeding the tension, drawing out the ache. She didn’t rush. No, the seduction was in the waiting, in the slow unraveling of control.

And across the room, in the corner, he sat.

Aaron hadn’t shifted an inch, hadn’t so much as twitched when she entered, but his silence was telling. A storm, deceptively still.

She met his gaze from across the room, let the heat of it settle over her skin like a brand. A challenge.

She wanted to see how long he could hold out.

Her next move was calculated—just the barest touch, fingers ghosting over the arm of a man in her path. Not enough to mean anything. Just enough to be noticed.

Aaron didn’t react. Didn’t tense, didn’t flinch.

But the slow, deliberate roll of the glass in his palm? That was all the confirmation she needed.

Threadbare restraint.

The power play sent a thrill through her, made her movements looser, more fluid, like liquid gold under the dim club lights. She teased the room, let herself be admired, but every shift of her hips, every flicker of her gaze was meant for him alone.

The way she tossed a glance over her shoulder, the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips—she knew he saw. She knew he felt it.

His grip tightened on his drink.

The muscles in his jaw flexed.

Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t break.

It was intoxicating—the way he let her have her moment, let her revel in the attention, without an ounce of insecurity. Because he knew.

She belonged to him.

And she knew it too. That was why she pushed it. Just a little.

Her fingers ghosted over another man’s wrist as she passed, a teasing brush, fleeting and meaningless—except in the way it wasn’t.

Aaron felt it.

Not in the touch itself, but in the way she wanted him to feel it.

His expression didn’t change, but his eyes? They burned into her with something molten.

The game had been set, and the moment she finally made her way to him, the tension snapped like a taut wire.

He never had to chase her.

She came to him. Every. Single. Time.

And when she did?

Oh, he was taking his time collecting his prize.

The moment she finally approached him, it was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline.

Aaron didn’t move, didn’t reach for her, but the air between them shifted. The game was ending, the tension about to snap.

She didn’t sit beside him. Didn’t ease into it.

No.

She swung a leg over his lap, straddling him with deliberate ease, her hands settling against the crisp fabric of his open jacket. Her nails scraped lightly along his jaw, guiding his gaze up to hers.

“You’ve been watching me all night,” she whispered, her voice thick with seduction.

His lips curled, the ghost of a smirk, dark and knowing. “I don’t have to watch.” His hands slid up the silk of her dress, fingers dragging along bare skin, his touch firm, claiming. “I already know how this ends.”

A spark of something wicked flickered in her eyes. “Do you?”

She moved against him then, a slow, teasing roll of her hips, testing his restraint, seeing how far she could push before he broke.

Aaron let out a slow exhale through his nose, his grip tightening, fingers flexing against her thighs like he was holding himself back. Barely.

She fed off that tension, the barely-leashed hunger in his eyes, the heat of his hands anchoring her in place. The room around them blurred—none of it mattered. Not the music, not the empty booths, not the distant hum of the club below.

It was just them.

Her body swayed in a sensual rhythm, every movement slow, deliberate, meant to torture. She leaned in, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “You look like you could use a distraction.”

Aaron exhaled sharply, his jaw ticking. “That what you’re offering?”

A soft hum, teasing. She pulled back, dragging her fingers down the front of his shirt, her eyes glinting with something dark, something playful. “Come find out.”

She slid off his lap, taking his hand in hers, leading him past velvet ropes, through the dimly lit corridor, until they reached the secluded upstairs section—completely private.

The air between them was charged, thick with expectation.

She turned to him slowly, letting the moment breathe, letting the anticipation settle deep in his bones. The soft glow of the overhead lights bathed her in gold, casting long shadows as she swayed, circling him like a predator playing with her prey.

Aaron sat back in the plush chair, legs spread, arms resting on the armrests, watching. Waiting.

She moved for him—only for him.

A slow, torturous lap dance. A tease. A promise.

Every movement was an offering, every roll of her hips, every languid touch along her own body meant to unravel him piece by piece.

His hands never left her.

Gripping. Kneading. Holding.

Like he was barely keeping himself from ruining the night’s game.

And then she leaned in, lips just ghosting his ear, her breath hot, her voice a whisper of sin.

Aaron’s control snapped.

His grip was bruising when he grabbed her thigh, pulling her flush against him.

It was about to spill over.

They barely made it out of the club before they were on each other again.

The cool night air did little to soothe the heat between them as they slipped into the back of a cab, breathless, hands greedy. The moment the door shut, Aaron gave the driver a pointed look. Without a word, the partition slid up.

Good.

Her lips were on his before he could smirk, her hands tangling in his shirt, tugging him closer, like the mere inches between them were unbearable. His fingers found her thigh, pushing beneath the silk of her dress, touch slow, teasing.

She gasped against his lips, whispering something wicked—something about how he was taking too damn long.

Aaron chuckled lowly, dragging his mouth down to her jaw, her neck. “Patience, sweetheart.”

The air between them crackled. This wasn’t new. This was well-rehearsed. A dance they’d performed countless times before, and yet, it never got old.

Her nails dug into his arm as he traced his fingers higher, just to hear that quiet hitch in her breath. He lived for that sound.

Every red light was a blessing and a curse. A stolen moment to let his hands roam, to pull her closer, to tease her just enough. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Not until he had her where he wanted her.

And when they finally reached their building?

They didn’t make it past the door before their clothes started hitting the floor.

Her back hit the door, a breathless laugh escaping as Aaron’s mouth crushed against hers, hands greedy, starved. The night had been one long, drawn-out tease, but now? Now, he was done playing.

His hands roamed—gripping, tugging, stripping away the layers she’d used to drive him mad. That dress? It pooled at her feet in seconds. Her heels? He left them on, because fuck, she knew what that did to him.

He guided her toward the bed, but before she could climb onto it, he yanked her back against him. His mouth was at her ear, his voice thick, ragged.

“You’ve had your fun,” he murmured. “Now, it’s my turn.”

Then he was sinking to his knees.

She barely had time to gasp before his hands were gripping the backs of her thighs, spreading her for him. The heat of his breath kissed her inner thighs before his tongue did, tracing slow, torturous circles—teasing, not giving her what she needed.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her body trembling. “Aaron—”

“Shhh.” He chuckled against her skin, dragging his tongue higher, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just shy of where she ached for him. “You wanted to put on a show, baby?” He glanced up at her, eyes dark, glittering. “Then I wanna hear you.”

And then? He devoured her.

His tongue worked her like he had all the time in the world, long, lazy strokes that had her legs shaking, her body trembling under the sheer weight of pleasure. His grip tightened when she tried to move, tried to grind against his face, but he held her there, pinned, forcing her to take every bit of his slow, thorough worship.

She whimpered, hips bucking, her hands fisting in his short-cropped hair—or at least trying to, nails scraping against his scalp, his shoulders, anything to ground herself.

He loved that.

She was unravelling for him. Because of him.

He kept her there, kept her dancing on the razor’s edge, until her moans turned desperate, until she was gasping, pleading—

And just when she thought she would shatter?

He stopped.

Her eyes flew open. “Aaron—”

He licked his lips, amusement flickering across his face as he leaned back, dragging a palm up her thigh. “You wanna come?” His voice was low, teasing, fingers dancing right where she needed him.

She nodded frantically, her breath ragged. “Yes—please—”

He hummed, considering. Then, with one last, slow kiss against her inner thigh, he leaned back, settling against the headboard like a king waiting for his queen to take her place.

“Then get up here.” He spread his legs, eyes hooded, dark, filled with promise. “Ride me, earn it.”

She didn’t hesitate.

The second she climbed onto his lap, Aaron grabbed her—one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding up her back, pressing her flush against him.

And then?

She sank down.

A choked groan ripped from his throat as she took him inch by inch, the stretch burning in the best way, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted.

And Aaron? He just watched.

One arm draped over the back of the bed, the other hand resting possessively on her thigh. Relaxed. Controlled. Like he wasn’t buried deep inside her, like she wasn’t clenching around him so tight, so wet—

Her hands pressed against his chest, nails raking lightly as she rolled her hips, slow, steady.

Aaron hissed through his teeth. “That’s it, baby. Show me.”

She took her time. Drawing it out. Making him feel it. Every roll of her hips, every flutter of her walls around him—it was deliberate.

His fingers flexed on her thigh, tightening. His breathing turned rough, that lazy exterior starting to crack.

And that? That made her bold.

She braced herself against his chest and rode him harder, sharper, setting a pace that had him groaning, his hands flying to her waist to hold her there.

“Fuck—” His head tipped back, the veins in his neck straining. “You’re—” His voice broke off into a moan, the sound sending a sharp bolt of heat down her spine.

He was losing it.

And she loved it.

Her lips curled into a smirk, hands sliding up his chest, to his throat, nails scratching lightly against his pulse. “What’s wrong, baby?” Her voice was honeyed, teasing. “You wanted to watch me?”

Aaron’s grip tightened.

And that was his breaking point.

With one sharp, effortless movement, he flipped her, pressing her deep into the mattress.

Before she could catch her breath, he was slamming into her, hard, deep, knocking the air from her lungs.

She cried out, back arching, legs wrapping around his waist—

And Aaron? He grinned.

“Thought you were in control, huh?” He kissed along her jaw, his pace slow, torturous. “That’s cute.”

He rolled his hips, grinding deep, and she gasped, her hands clawing at his back.

“But let’s get one thing straight, baby.” He dragged his lips to her ear, voice thick with pleasure, with possession. “You always come home to me.”

And then?

He ruined her.

They collapsed together, bodies tangled, skin slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.

Her cheek pressed against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling her into something soft, something tender after all the fire.

And then—

She laughed.

A breathless, sated little chuckle against his skin as she lazily traced patterns along his chest. “We really committed to that, huh?”

Aaron smirked, his fingers brushing along her spine, dragging her closer. “Would’ve been a shame if I let anyone else think they had a chance.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, warm and heavy with satisfaction. His hand found her chin, tilting her face up just enough for him to press a lingering kiss to her temple.

His voice was low, rasping, filled with something deeper than lust, something timeless.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @theogbadbitch @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

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atasteofmir · 7 days ago

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Goodies. A-Town down, 2004

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atasteofmir · 7 days ago

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😍💗

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atasteofmir · 7 days ago

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Coming To America (1988)

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atasteofmir · 7 days ago

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Some would consider heaven to be the view of the morning sun migrating from beneath the horizon to shine its light over the country of Maldives but to Terry, heaven was the sight of Camille in bed beside him. A few strands of her dark brown curls covered her face that appeared peaceful as she slept. Camille still resided in the dream world when he slipped underneath the comforter, gently parted her legs, and dove in for his first meal of the day. Her body automatically reacted to the sensation of his tongue on her folds. Yet, Terry hooked his arms underneath her thighs, rested his hands on her lower belly, and continued to taste her.

Camille awoke with a faint moan and his name spilling from her lips. The back of her hand rubbed the sleep from her eyes and she blinked open to see the outline of Terry’s body underneath the comforter. His head shook back and forth as he concentrated on providing pleasure to her clit.

“Ooh, shit…”

Camille leaned up on her elbows. She took the end of the comforter into her hands and lifted it. The sight was erotic. Terry’s eyes were shut as he enjoyed the taste of her sweetness.

The last scene that Camille saw in her mind’s eyes was Camille’s arrival at the peak. Terry’s eyes opened to latch onto hers and his tongue emerged to deliver quick licks to her clit. Camille flooded his face, shouted his name, and submitted to the wave pleasure.

Camille was thrusted back into reality at the call of her name.

“Did you hear what I said?” Her boss questioned through the speaker of Camille’s designated work phone..

“Ye-Yeah. I’ll put the date into my reminders and make sure I have all the paperwork ready.”

Camille pushed the flashback out of her head and concentrated on her desktop. She clicked on her calendar and added a reminder for the travel business meeting that her boss had assigned.

“I think I’m going to have Richmond join you. It’s better to have two representatives at events like this.”

Camille’s fingers paused her on the keyboard. “Huh?”

“I’m going to have Richmond go with you.”

Camille heard her the first time but she needed her to repeat it to make sure she wasn’t losing it. Camille couldn’t respond with a resounding “No.” like she wanted to. This was her boss that she was on the phone with. However, that didn’t stop her from performing a silent tantrum in her home office.

“That’s fine.” No it wasn’t.

“Good, I’ll send you both all of the information, travel dates, and hotel arrangements through email.”

After the call came to an end, Camille shut down her desktop and powered off her phone. She rested her head in her hands, releasing a scream. She wanted nothing to do with Terry Richmond, let alone accompany him on a business trip. Memories of that disastrous night coursed through her mind. She became livid all over again. Then, she thought about their run-in at the charity event. Camille hated the contradicting feelings that she had experienced while seeing him for the first time in a while. "Why did he have to be so fine?", was the question she asked then the question of “Why did he do it?” would appear right after and bring her back to the real world.

No matter how Camille felt towards Terry, this was work. A bag came before any man. Could she set aside the personal to be professional. Yes. How long it will last is yet to have an answer.

•°. *࿐

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atasteofmir · 7 days ago

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Sneak preview! "The Tomboy"

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit & Unprotected Sex, Bisexual Female OC, Teacher/Student Dynamic, Small Age Gap, Dom/Sub/Switch dynamic, Alpha Submissive, Dub-Con, BDE & BCE (Big Clit Energy)

Summary: Terry Richmond returns to his hometown for a long deserved rest and runs into his old neighborhood tomboy who used to follow him around like a puppy when he was a teenager. Times have changed and the tomboy has come into her own, bending men and women her way...and he likes it.

youtube

“Madness, mad

Got no respect

Madness, mad

Maybe I just fantasize this one

Stay on my mind thеn no damage done

'Cause no turning back if it's onе-on-one

Me on my back then done-and-done”

Amanda Reifer – “Woman Now”

Yesterday Was An Old Spring Day

Terry’s father’s voice boomed up through his bedroom floor. He winced at the slurring of harsh words toward his mother. Another Saturday night. Another drinking binge that disrupted the harmony of their home.

“You’re not going to tell me what I can do or not do in my own goddamn house, Carmen!” Terry Sr. barked out.

“All this drinking you’re doing will mess up your liver. Or would you rather get wet-brain like your uncle?!”

His mother’s tone had passed her usual placating. She sounded pissed and tired.

“I’m trying to study up here!” Terry called out to them both.

A thick pre-calculus book and notebook paper filled with his notes spread before him on his wobbly student desk. His last semester of highschool ending well depended on passing his best class with flying colors and his parents were causing him to lose focus.

A loud crash of broken glass jolted Terry, and he ran downstairs to see if his father had gone crazy.

“See what you did?” Carmen scolded, lifting pieces of a bourbon bottle.

They both fussed back and forth, ignoring Terry completely. His father tottered next to the built-in bar sink that housed a bounty of adult libations of the fiery throat kind. He held a crystal tumbler filled to the lip with dark amber liquid. Eventually, his mother started cursing a blue streak, threatening to leave Terry Sr.

They continued to ignore Terry’s presence.

He had enough and went outside to sit on his porch steps to get some air. Their continued arguing irritated him more, and he booked it towards the woods.

“Terry! Where ya going?”

His young neighbor, Jaliya, ran toward him from the baseball game she abandoned. Earlier she’d been crying that the older boys didn’t want her to play with them because they’d already picked even teams. Terry bossed them into letting her be the pitcher for both teams. Ten unhappy male faces grumbled, but he was older and cooler, so they agreed. Plus, Jaliya had a decent arm for a twelve-year-old.

“Can’t leave the game, Jaliya!” Logan Phelps called out.

Logan was fourteen, and Jaliya’s most ardent foe in denying her fun with the boys. Terry had glanced at the older girls on their street playing double dutch and hanging near a light pole. Jaliya didn’t want to play with them. Her eyes shined behind pink glasses, and her teeth gleamed with light green braces. She tried keeping up with his long strides.

“Not now, Lil Bit,” he yelled, using the nickname he gave her. He waved an arm for her to stay back.

His body stayed rigid from the encounter with his parents. They’d been fighting each other for months and he was terrified of them divorcing. The thought pricked his eyes with tears and he sprinted into the woods.

After five minutes of running blindly at full speed, he gripped his side from exertion. Gasping, he heard the familiar tick-tick-tick-tick sound of Jaliya’s dirt bike wheel spoke smacked by the Ace of Spades card he put there for her because she wanted to copy his ten-speed.

“You okay, Terry?”

“I told you to stay back there,” he said.

He rose to his full height and held his hands on his hips. Sweat poured through his basketball shorts and mesh tank vest. Jaliya shifted her sneaker’d feet and the beads in her copper-brown braided hair jangled on her shoulders. He wiped his eyes, but she’d already peeped the angry tears of frustration on him. She put down her bike and walked over to him quietly, throwing her arms around his waist.

“Don’t be sad,” she said into his stomach.

Her little chunky body felt warm and comforting. He patted the top of her head and pulled back from her.

“I’m okay.”

“My parents fight sometimes, too.”

He gulped and averted his gaze to look at a tree. His parents were loud enough for everyone to hear outside. Embarrassing.

“I’m good, Jaliya. Gonna take a walk…clear my head.”

“I’ll walk with you. I’ll be real quiet, too.”

“Go finish your game.”

“It’s pretty much over.”

She lifted her bike and pushed it alongside him without talking. The tick-tick-ticking of her bike spokes broke the silence with each step. He laughed at the absurdity of her trying to push the bike slowly to stifle the sound. She grinned green metal.

“Sorry.”

“No worries.”

They strolled together quietly as the sun dropped lower behind the canopy of mixed conifers. The crunch of leaves under their feet became a soothing way for Terry to ease his mind of worry over his parents.

“Is it true you’re joining the marines instead of going to college like Montez?”

“Yeah. My dad signed my enlistment papers today. I leave right after I graduate.”

Terry had been an overachiever in school. Pushed a grade ahead, he excelled in extracurricular activities like wrestling and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. A wrestling scholarship was within his grasp, but he chose his father’s military footsteps. Terry Richmond Sr. was a brown belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and taught his son the art at a young age. The discipline kept the younger Terry out of trouble, unlike his cousin Mike, who squandered his athletic gifts hanging with the wrong crowd.

Jaliya sucked in a breath.

“You won’t go camping with all of us this summer?”

“Nope. Not this year. You’ll be fishing and canoeing while I’ll be going through boot camp.”

“It won’t be fun without you there!”

A slight whine colored her complaint.

“I’ll miss you, too, Lil Bit.”

“I didn’t say I’d miss you.”

“Sure.”

“I won’t. You know why?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna write to you. I’ll send you letters, cookies, and even postcards from the camping trip…and Christmas cards!”

“You’ll start junior high in the fall. Trust me, you’ll be busy making new friends and won’t have time to write.”

“Are you saying I’d forget about you?”

Her bushy eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m saying your life is going to change and you don’t have to worry about writing to me all the time. I’ll be coming home to visit occasionally when I can.”

They curved around an ancient maple tree and headed back home. Their houses were next door to each other.

“Oh, shit!” Jaliya shouted.

The streetlights were on.

She rode her bike ahead as her mother parked a sedan on the street. Tossing her bike on the side of her house, Jaliya ran to the pine oak that divided their properties and had a cut branch that led to her bedroom window. She hoisted herself up, crawled along a twisted brown limb, and bravely hurtled herself through a window kept partially open by a stick.

Terry walked to the front of his house and sat on his porch wall again, watching Jaliya’s mother Patti and older sister Montez head up to their porch carrying a pizza box and bags of groceries.

“Hey, Terry,” Montez said.

He waved, eyeing the fellow highschool senior up and down. She’d finally started talking to him again after he dated one of her friends. Rumors of him banging the friend in the park, all true, had reached Montez, and she started acting snippy with him, even though she went with a bum ass dude from his calculus class. Montez always gave him mixed signals. She walked around their high school like some glamorous model with her lithe frame and long legs, her skin the perfect shade of pre-summer brown from hours outdoors sunbathing by her pool. Her hair cascaded past her shoulders with a light pressing, and she moved like a graceful swan. He would’ve preferred Montez’s legs up in the air at the park instead of the other girl.

Jaliya swung open their front door with a boisterous energy, pretending to have been inside before the streetlights flickered on.

“Ooh, you smell musty,” Montez said, crinkling her nose.

Jaliya sniffed her armpits.

“I don’t smell nothin’,” Jaliya said.

Patti pushed Jaliya back indoors.

“Upstairs. Bath…now. Bringing that wild smell in here. Funky like all them boys,” Patti teased.

Terry grinned, watching his neighbors. He inhaled the spring air and his mother came outside, handing him a Pepsi.

“I’m sorry, baby. We’ll get through this…your dad and I get to disagreeing about things, and his drinking makes it worse. He said he’s going to do better.”

Carmen’s voice sounded hopeful. She stroked his hair, which was the same texture as hers. Thick curls that needed clipping for his new career.

Terry kissed her cheek, and she left him alone.

He finished his soda and wandered into his home. His father watched TV in their den and his mother flitted about much calmer. He climbed the stairs to his room and sat on his bed. There were only a couple of months left before he’d sleep in a new place. Experience new things. He would step into the manhood awaiting him. He wanted to make his parents proud. Prayed they’d stay together and weather any storm while he was away.

A flickering red light captured his attention on his wall.

Terry looked out through his window. Jaliya’s bedroom light was on. He could see into her messy room. She held a small flashlight and used the Morse Code he taught her two years ago. He and his homeboys played capture the flag in the woods using it at night, and she wanted to learn so she could play secret spy with her friends at school by passing notes in code.

Grabbing a pen and some notebook paper, he jotted down the message.

I LIED. I WILL MISS YOU. DON’T FORGET ME.

It was a sweet message from a sweet kid.

Today is a New Summer Day

Terry’s first time home in eight years for a long length of time was a celebration to his parents. His mother stayed a happy homemaker and his father finally retired as a marine Sergeant Major. They worked through their past problems and committed to living their golden years in peace. His three older sisters were all married and scattered around town, and he was the only child in the family unattached. A happy bachelor, to the displeasure of his mother. He had nieces and nephews he wanted to see, and his parents planned a homecoming weekend for their entire family.

He’d finished a grueling training stint teaching, and was due two months of downtime before returning to Parris Island, South Carolina. He spent long hours at the MCRD site, training new recruits as a MCMAP instructor. Instead of traveling out of the country, he opted to go back to the family nest and decompress with his momma’s home-cooking and fishing with his dad.

Part of his desire coming home was to see his childhood neighbor Montez. Word got to him through his momma that she recently divorced — no kids—and he wanted a chance to reconnect. He’d scrolled through her social media pages and ogled her pictures. She still looked as good as he remembered before he joined the military at seventeen. They’d almost hooked up his last week before graduation, but the timing and his goal of becoming a marine like his dad took precedence. Montez ended up marrying her college sweetheart. The marriage was short-lived, and Montez returned to Louisiana to start over. She’d wiped all traces of her ex husband and there was nothing giving hints to a current boyfriend, so maybe this would be his chance to have a fling if nothing more. His mother probably already plotted some type of barbecue or pool party with Montez’s mother Patti, hoping to play Cupid.

His parents picked him up from the Lafayette Regional Airport, an hour's drive round-trip from their home in New Iberia. They rolled in front of their house just after midnight in the old family mini-van, and he carried his camo duffle bag and backpack up the stairs to his old bedroom that his mother kept clean and unchanged from when he left as a teenager.

Not yet sleepy from his late flight, Terry opened the bedroom window and then sat on his bed with just a nightlight on that cast a soft yellow glow in the room.

Home.

His room smelled the same, the scent of lavender sachets in his bureau drawers that his mother made, along with the old odor of an overly-cleaned sneaker collection lined up against the wall next to his closet. As the only boy, he had the smallest room to himself and had to be creative with the space that he used up. That meant keeping everything neat and in order. His father drummed that into him and his sisters.

“Shhh! Shhh!!”

Low voices from outside drew his eyes toward the window. Down below in the darkness, two figures giggled and shushed each other. Then they kissed, their hands groping asses and two sets of breasts. After a time, one woman parted, slinking off toward the street and the other climbed the old pine oak.

It had to be Jaliya.

Terry grinned, watching the ambiguous shape climb onto part of the roof before crawling through the window…and getting stuck. Two legs flailed and her midsection moved up and down, trying to loosen the window. For a moment, Terry thought he’d have to go outside and climb the tree to help her, but she somehow got enough room to slither in and fall on the floor. She pulled down a blind, and when a light popped on, only her silhouette was visible.

Twenty years old and still sneaking in the house.

He chuckled, happy to know Lil Bit was in town. Last he heard was that she was in college and doing a student exchange in Europe somewhere. As he predicted, she came into her own and stopped writing to him after her second year of junior high. Like most of the kids from their neighborhood that moved away, all updates came from parents bragging about accomplishments or lamenting the fact that there weren’t as many visits home.

Jaliya’s bedroom light went out. He looked forward to catching up with her and Montez.

Sleep came easy. The humidity didn’t even stop his rest. He awoke the next morning refreshed and ate a hearty late breakfast with his parents. Hash browns and fried eggs with thick ham slices covered his enormous plate. They hung onto every word he shared and his father looked proud to have a drill master in the family leading the new breed of soldiers.

Two hours after their meal, his parents left to go shop for home items on sale at a sporting goods depot. His mother wanted a new lawn furniture set, and his father needed new fishing tackles. He went outside to see them off and Patti Brown from next door sauntered over and hugged him, inviting him for a swim to beat the heat that brought sweat to his face and neck.

Terry accepted the invite, eager to see Montez.

He groomed himself well, excited to let his facial hair grow in to form a nice mustache and goatee that he’d have to shave off in two months back on base. He brushed waves in his short cut, and used subtle aftershave cologne. His old swim trunks still fit and he climbed into a snug fitting orange one that showed more of a bulge up front than when he was younger. He’d gone through another growth spurt in his early twenties. The other trunks looked a little ratty, and it was better to let Montez see what he was packing as open advertisement. He threw on a t-shirt and grabbed a thick blue towel from the upstairs linen closet.

Patti threw open her front door after the second knock and ushered him into an air-conditioned paradise. His parents still used fans and a swamp cooler.

“My, my, my, you look so handsome, Terry! Your momma said you work in South Carolina now.”

“Yes, ma’am. Been there two years as a Gunnery Sergeant. I’ll do another year and transfer back to Camp Lejeune.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Patti was already sipping on some rosé wine and her long yellow caftan looked cool and comfortable.

“Go on out back. Montez is out there.”

Patti smiled when she noticed the gleam in his eyes at the mention of Montez.

“You want some wine?” she offered.

“Maybe later. I’ll swim first.”

“Smart man. Off you go.”

Patti’s fair skin looked blotchy from the sun and there were more wrinkles on her face that gave her a vintage beauty. He could see exactly what Montez would look like in her early sixties. Cool air swirled around him as he headed to the back sliding doors that led to the backyard and pool. A recent addition to the property was a small sauna room set in the far back corner of the pool area.

“Oh my God, Terry!”

Montez jumped up from her lounge chair in a two-toned green and yellow bikini, her long hair swept up into a messy bun that looked curly from swimming. The sun had slightly burned and peeled her nose. She looked nearly the same as she did at seventeen. He hugged her tight, bringing her in close. Her perfume smelled sweet, like roses in bloom. She elevator’d her eyes on him, noting the trunks and he caught the imperceptible puckering of her lips.

“You look good, girl,” he said.

“Me? You walked out here all grown-looking and confident. Marine life suited you well.”

“Can’t complain.”

“C’mon, sit down…talk to me.”

They caught up for a time.

He hadn’t expected her to go right into the dissolution of her marriage, but she spent the first half hour ruminating on it before asking about his life. She offered him lemonade from the pitcher on the small table between their seats, and he bragged on his career. He used her smartphone to share his picture on the marine website instructing young soldiers how to throw each other on a mat.

“So you train soldiers how to be the few and the proud?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Sir, I am only a year older than you. Still young. Not someone’s ma’am, yet.”

She leaned in toward him as they spoke face to face. Montez gave him the ‘I’m interested in you for real’ vibes and he relaxed more.

“How long are you here for? Are you going on the annual camping trip?” he asked.

Her nose scrunched up.

“No, I probably won’t do it. I’m using up my vacation days from my last job and then I have to start looking for new work. I have a friend in New Orleans who will hook me up with a temp job at her insurance company. After my divorce, I’ve been starting over with everything and I think New Orleans is a nice change for me. How long are you here for?”

“Two months.”

“Wow. I may actually reconsider going to New Orleans so soon.”

“You should.”

He reached for his glass of lemonade and a loud splash drew their attention to the pool. A sleek form swam under the surface the full length of the pool.

“Here she comes. Lil Miss Troublemaker,” Montez muttered in a spiteful tone.

“Troublemaker?”

“Jaliya. She dropped out of school and our parents are pissed. Had a whole scandal in France. Our parents had to bust her out of jail over there. I’ll tell you about it another time.”

Jaliya broke the surface, swiping water from her face as she tread near the edge.

“Terry Richmond.”

Jaliya’s silky voice struck him, but not as hard as her face.

All that coppery, chestnut brown bushy hair was gone and in its place was a sleek honey-blonde fade cut that made her face the center of attention. No more braces pushing back her overbite. No glasses rounding her slanted eyes. Her top lip no longer poked out like it used to and it lined up evenly with her smaller bottom lip, giving her a natural pouty look.

She lifted out of the pool and the mint-green string bikini barely hiding her shape had his eyes popping out like some Looney Tunes cartoon wolf. Flat-chested no more, she padded over to him, dripping wet, and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing her dampness into him.

“Hey,” he gushed in her ear, lifting her up.

He stopped from squeezing her back, very much aware of the softness pressed into him, and put her back on her feet.

She took the seat next to Montez and grabbed a towel. When she bent over, he admired the thin g-string of the bikini bottom swallowed by the golden brown of her upside down heart-shaped ass.

Jaliya was still compact compared to her taller sister. All it took was a few extra inches stretching her height to turn the chunky baby fat into smoothed out curves on a still very athletic-looking frame. Front to back, Lil Bit was what he considered a fun-sized beauty for his own height and weight. Had Montez not been there, he would’ve wiped his mouth because it watered so badly staring at her sister. Subconsciously, he questioned the adverse feelings that welled up within him. His entire life knowing her had been that of a protector. The big brother she never had who understood her ambivalence at becoming a woman.

She’d come to him and his cousin Mike crying about her mother forcing her to take etiquette classes like Montez did. Bitched about never wanting to grow breasts because the boys would treat her different. How many times had he snatched her up from beating a boy’s ass in the street when they made fun of her teeth before she had braces? She was a quick-to-fight little badger back then, readily throwing punches at boys twice her size, but she’d blubber like a crybaby if forced to be girly or left out of football games.

It felt weird to view her as a sexy young woman now. Her attractiveness unnerved him. What happened to that goofy little chunky grade school pipsqueak that followed him around with his rowdy male friends as the neighborhood tomboy?

Terry tightened up, not wanting to offend Montez, who had already tensed up with Jaliya’s sudden presence in the water.

“Lil Bit,” he finally huffed out.

“In the flesh,” Jaliya said, plopping down on the chair and using the towel to dry her hair.

So different. So grown.

Terry’s mind swam with the shock of seeing the tomboy next door blossom into a dime piece. Jaliya looked like the baddies his fellow soldiers jumped into DM’s recklessly for.

She reached over to the small patio table and lifted a pair of glasses to wear. He stared at a fucking bombshell. Her glow-up rivaled Montez’s normally unrivaled beauty.

“I’ll go make some more lemonade and let you two catch up,” Montez said.

She grabbed the empty clear pitcher with melted ice.

“Are you hungry? I can make some sandwiches.”

“That would be cool. Thanks, Montez,” he said.

She nodded and walked away. Jaliya slipped into her sister’s seat.

“Look at you! All muscles and shit!”

Jaliya reached out and poked his chest through his shirt.

“Who you showing out for? Her?” she quipped.

“What?”

“Oh, you’re not hip to the set-up? Our mommas want you and my insufferable sister to become a thing. Honestly, you’d be a rebound, but who am I to judge?”

Terry burst out laughing when she rolled her eyes. She acted the same way. Even as a grown ass woman, Jaliya was still Jaliya.

But her bathing suit…

The triangular scrap of mint-green barely covered her vulva.

He shifted in his seat and tugged down on his shirt. His attraction was visceral, and it scared him at the suddenness. The bulge in his trunks thickened.

“I like that,” she said.

“Huh?”

She pointed to his face.

“Your mustache and goatee.”

Her fingers reached out.

“Can I touch it?”

Her soft tone and choice of words charged the air around him.

“Yeah,” he said.

She stood and dropped two fingers down to his chin first, and stroked the hair there. She traced her index finger around his mouth and up to his mustache.

“You look sophisticated with facial hair.”

“Think so?” he said.

The warmth of his breath blew against her finger and she did something that caught him off guard. She took her index and pointer finger and rubbed them across his lips. He froze, and their eyes locked.

She inserted the tips of her fingers inside his mouth. His resistance was nowhere to be found as his lips parted without him even thinking about it.

She fucked his mouth with those fingers.

“Such a good boy,” she whispered.

He stared up at her, letting her slowly move her digits in and out. All across his wet tongue. A groan escaped from him and his dick grew stiff like a flagpole.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He sucked on her fingers.

“I always wondered if you had a big dick when I was in highschool. You walk like it’s heavy,” she sighed.

He moaned on her fingers, and his dick jumped in his trunks.

“Oh, wow…you are big,” she said.

His dick had swollen so much in size that it slipped out from the left bottom leg of his trunks. It sat hot and heavy against his thigh, and Jaliya kept inserting her fingers in his mouth.

“You’re making me sticky,” she sighed.

She removed her fingers from between his lips and slid her bikini bottom to the side. A thin triangular strip of soft pubic hairs led down to puffy labia that glistened.

“Oh shit, Jaliya…” he moaned.

He thought he pissed on himself, but his dick leaked a continuous stream of pre-cum onto his thigh, and the cement under their feet. She touched her pussy lips and wiped away her slickness, stuffing her fingers back into his mouth.

“I know you like how that tastes, huh?”

He nodded.

“Go get in the pool. Now,” she hissed, sliding her bikini bottom back in place.

He heard the backyard sliding doors open. Kicking off his slides, he pulled off his t-shirt, flinging it on the chair. He dove head-first into the pool. The cool water shocked his skin and his dick, dampening his ardor.

What the fuck just happened?

He stayed under water until he reached the far side of the pool, giving himself distance and time for his erection to shrink back to respectable flaccidness. It took longer than he expected. The pressure on his leg from his dick and the material of his trunks holding it against his thigh spelled out the heft that Jaliya witnessed up close.

He could still savor the taste of her pussy on his tongue, and it made him feverish for more. His entire body throbbed with sexual need. He couldn’t understand the erotic urgency she brought out in him with just fingers in his mouth.

No lead up, no teasing…hell, she didn’t even ask him if she could stick her fingers in his mouth. Had she been able to read his attraction to her? If any other woman had done that, he would’ve slapped her hand away and jumped up. Instead, he sat there willingly, letting her do what she wanted without protest.

Terry splashed around until he felt secure enough to rejoin Montez and Jaliya. Montez brought out a tray with the new batch of lemonade and two turkey sandwiches cut in half. There were two glasses of rosé wine, too.

“Can I have one?” Jaliya asked, reaching for one of the large sandwich halves.

Montez put the tray on the table and slapped her sister’s hand away.

“I made these for me and Terry.”

“She can have half of mine,” he said, not wanting them to fight over it.

She had him in a trance. Whatever sorcery she pulled, he let her do whatever she wanted. If she had wanted to climb on top of his dick he would have let her… and fucked her in front of her momma and sister. Her daddy, too.

A delirious energy enveloped him like a high without being high on anything but her.

Jaliya took a sandwich half from the plate, then handed him the other. He accepted and took a bite after she did first. She reached for a glass of wine and Montez took it away.

“You aren’t old enough for that,” Montez spat.

Jaliya leaned back in her seat and continued nibbling on the turkey sandwich.

“So stupid,” Jaliya said. “Terry, I was in France for a semester and I could drink all I wanted over there. Eighteen is the legal age. They treated me like an adult—”

“But you weren’t acting like an adult over there, now were you?” Montez snapped at her.

Jaliya glanced at him.

“She’s trying to embarrass me like I give a damn.”

“You should be embarrassed—”

Terry put his half-eaten sandwich back on the tray.

“Maybe I should head back home. You two have some things to work out, and I don’t want to get caught in the middle.”

Montez grabbed his arm, then handed him the plate with his food on it.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my manners,” Montez said.

Jaliya grinned and ate her food. She broke a piece of tomato off from her bread and looked over at him.

“You’re curious now, huh?” Jaliya said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“What’s a trip to Europe without a little carrying on?” he joked, trying to smooth over the tension.

“Exactly, Terry,” Jaliya said.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Montez said.

“Why? You brought it up attempting to make him not like me.”

“Just hush, Jaliya,” Montez said, ducking Terry’s gaze.

Terry shook his head at Jaliya and she curled her lips, taking the hint to keep quiet for him. He tilted his head to add emphasis.

“Alright…I’ll be quiet.”

Terry cleared his throat and asked about the new addition to the backyard.

“Oh, that’s daddy’s new family sauna. It fits four people at a time. Come, let me show you what it looks like inside! It’s great for sore muscles and feels fabulous after a good swim.”

Terry tossed the last piece of his food in his mouth and brushed his hands together. He followed Montez to the sauna. From the corner of his eye, he watched Jaliya take a glass of wine and head indoors.

A.N.:

The rest coming after I drop my "Sinners" fic!

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