#Terry richmond

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: getting off these drafts. btw i heard kelvin's next 😮‍💨

DILEMMA. | Aaron Pierre.

Rich! Terry Richmond x Black! Female Reader.

Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( fingering (fem receiving), penetrat!on (unprotected p in v, don't do that!), water sports, slapping/hitting, degradation), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) angst, guilt (you're a cheater, bitch) slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread. Terry referred to as Terrell.

Summary: in which an engaged woman and a rich man fall into a heavy affair, she's hesitant.

i be so in love with your girlfriend,

and she loves it too, and i love it too

when we rendezvous, we get comfortable.

"yeah, I miss you too," you cooed softly into the phone, your stomach churning at how honest your voice sounded despite your despicable actions.

You probably would've meant it if it were any other day, if you were any other place. Maybe if you were actually in London, like you told your fiancé you'd be before you landed in Toronto, you'd mean it. But every time you came back to this country—the city rather, you never meant it.

Your truths given to another man all at once, that you had no choice but to lie to the man you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with. You looked at the blinging engagement ring on your left hand and grimaced. You halfway listened to the man muttering on the other end of the phone and half of your attention, scoured through your head as you paced the small area of the hotel balcony you were standing on.

"Alright, babe," he hummed on the other line, "just wanted to make sure you landed alright, I love you."

You shuddered at how genuine he sounded. You loved him back too—but even you battled with that sentiment, you had another man making his way up to the hotel room in a country you weren't even supposed to be in.

Maybe if you'd forgiven him for all those mistakes he made over the course of your relationship—maybe if you went to counseling like your parents and friends advised you to you wouldn't be sneaking off on the love of your life.

"I love you too, baby," you feigned a smile, hoping that he could hear how genuine you tried to be, "can I call you back later? Everyone's checking in right now."

He subtly agreed with you on the other end, telling you to call him back later when you settled in before ending the call. Thank god for your job. Had you not been a flight attendant, this shit probably would've been a little harder to pull off.

That was the issue though, is that all this shit was getting harder to pull off. You loved your fiance, sure, but you were in love with Terrell. And that was never supposed to happen.

None of this was supposed to happen.

Six months ago you were supposed to go on a quick girls trip with your homegirls. Nowhere too far, but nowhere too close. So it was decided upon on Toronto. You'd been to Toronto countless times before on layovers and international flights, which is how you knew about how lively the city was. You and a few of your favorite coworkers leaving the hotel on the few nights you spent there, hitting up the clubs and after hour bars.

But you weren't supposed to meet Terry.

There you and your homegirls went, all strutting through Revival as if it wasn't the biggest club in Toronto. You'd been here once before, briefly with a few coworkers, but you still gawked how lovely it was. Looked straight out of a Vegas strip catalogue, and who owned that very busy, popular club? Terrell indeed.

Having drinks being sent to you and your homegirls section. And not just little shots—you had a bottle of Louis XIII sent to your table by a gorgeous bottle girl, you and your homegirls gaped at her. Who the fuck and how the fuck were yall about to pay for a $4,000 bottle of cognac? But she set your fears aside, claiming that it on the house, and was from the boss.

You and your homegirls bristled in happiness after that. Where the fuck was the boss on your first visit here? But nevertheless, you chalked it up to the people of Toronto being courteous to tourists. Up until you met Terrell on the dance floor. Oh, and you didn't fuck around when it came to that, you were two years fresh out of college, your party days were not behind you.

You thought he was simple club goer too, just finding you on the dance floor and making conversation, shouting in each other's ears over the music. He was handsome of course, eyes piercing, tall, full lips, dressed in nothing but designer. It wasn't until he asked you if you and homegirls liked the bottle of LOUIS XIII he sent to your section, that your slightly intoxicated mind put the dots together. You thanked him profusely, and told him how much all of you were enjoying his club.

And although he seemed happy to hear that, he seemed happier to know what exactly only you had planned after this. You'd been out the game so long you'd forgot what flirting looked like, but even you knew this was flirting. You told him about your Fiancé, and that seemed to slightly deter him (not really) but somehow you and your homegirls still managed to take turns hanging out the sunroof of his Mercedes Benz as he ripped through the streets of Toronto after the club closed.

And that was six months ago.

And within those six months you'd visited Toronto more times than you could remember, without coworkers, and without your homegirls, and simply with Terry.

At first it was fun. Harmless fun, you thought. Here you were, a man with far too much money fawning over you. You were far too loyal (at the time) to give him your number, and instead had given him your moderately sized instagram. There he damn near never missed a story, constant heart eyes, constant attention. Attention and flirting your man hadn't given to you since he courted you. That weakened you.

Before you knew it you were on constant first class flights from your city to Toronto, constant sex and low key outings were you and Terry's favorite pastimes when you did come for your brief visits.

But over the next few months you'd became invested. The little gifts had become more meaningful. Once just flowers, and cards and small designer items had become more than just materialistic and more like keepsakes. You cherished them. And although nothing had been concrete in your little affair, you assumed it was all through good fun. Here this man was, older, rich, single and fine—he could pick any single woman in Toronto, but he chose you. Engaged, committed. So maybe he knew he didn't have to commit?

You remembered the way he didn't even flinch when you told him you were engaged to be married, he simply just kept his lingering gaze on you and apologized. The conversation seemingly still seemed to flow, and he still asked you to ride with him afterward. You, not willing to leave your homegirls, and disrespect your engagement (at the time, slut) agreed, under the condition that your homegirls rode too.

Yet, here you were now. Riding him alone. And as bad as you wanted to cut it off, a part of you, bigger than you'd wanted to admit, didn't want to. You liked how free you felt with him, how natural and different things felt. How cherished you felt.

You hadn't even realized that he'd came in, finally, it was his hotel suite after all, paid and reserved for by him. But he was courteous enough to tell the Ritz Carlton front desk employees that his girlfriend would be arriving before him, securing you a keycard of your own.

"How long you got?"

You jumped at the sound of his voice shaking you from your own wandering mind, eyes flickering over to Terry leaning on the frame of the open sliding door. You understood his absence of pleasantries and greetings, y'all were way past that.



He looked so handsome though, per usual. He was always dressed to T's. Even now, black durag adorning his head, a black long sleeved Under Armor compression shirt enhanced his already perfect physique, a pair of matching compression pants under the mismatch Nike basketball shorts he wore. Or maybe he just made everything he wore look good.

"Two days," you said slowly hands gripping the railing of the balcony, averting your attention back out onto the view of downtown Toronto in front of you.

A small bout of silence stretched between the two of you, the air charged with a little bit of everything. Sexual tension, apprehension, passion—like always. But, your hesitance and distance added onto that, and Terry could feel that.

You sighed in contentment against him when he wrapped his broad arms around your waist, pressing your shorter frame into his from behind. His lips finding that sweet spot just behind your ear. "You good?" He mumbled against your skin, persisting kisses there.

You rested your head against his lowered shoulder, his face tucked into the crook of your neck as you hesitantly answered him, giving him a small "yes". To which he knew wasn't true.

And in his mind when you were with him, thinking was void. That's why he handled everything, from the travel, to the hotels, to the outings. He made sure he was your escape. He knew the wifely duties you had back in the states, cooking, cleaning, working—that's the shit your main man put you through. He didn't.

He could tell the night met you, you needed a well deserved break. You seemed tense from the moment he approached you, he literally watched it all melt away during the duration of your conversation, you were already pretty, too pretty. But you looked even prettier when you were relaxed. So, that's what he strived to see.

"What you thinkin' about, mama?" He hummed against your already hot flesh. "You know I don't condone that shit."

You laughed at how serious he sounded, prompting him to chuckle right behind you. You raised your shoulder from his head, craning your head up at his now lifted frame behind yours with furrowed brows, "you don't condone that? Me thinking?"

"You know that," he casually responded, "why you think I handle everything? You do that shit back home with that nigga. Here, I don't need all that." He mumbled before using his opposing hand to tap lightly against your temple, softly kissing your lips.

And that was the problem. Him handling everything. Not wanting you to think and enjoy your time together. That's what made you feel free, that's what had you feeling all types of feelings about him. But you couldn't voice that, just staring back up at him with that dazed stare you gave him every time he kissed you.

You didn't speak until he led you back into the spacious suite, back to the bedroom where the huge king bed was that you belly flopped on when you first arrived. You didn't speak until he started removing the Swarvorski pumps he'd bought you on your last visit, grasping your left ankle and lifting it up to his lips, pressing summer kisses up your calves. You teeth sinker into your bottom lip, watching him as he watched you. Everything else melted away for a moment. Just a moment though.

"Terrell," you huffed as your thoughts overcrowded your mind again, jerking your leg away from his lips, though it still remained secure in his grasp, "this is wrong." If only your fiancé hadn't called and ruined the very sexy mood you were in, you could do this. You would've done this.

Terry recoiled at the reference of his real name with you, and the fact that you were back with this again. He hadn't heard those three words up until the third month, and here you hear three months later singing the same tune again. He sat your leg down gently, getting up from his kneeled position on the floor. "Nah, don't start that," he firmly replied joining you on the bed in one swift motion. Pressing his lips against your non-responsive ones, trailing his kisses over to your cheek, jawline and then finally your neck before you pushed away from him.

"I'm serious," you muttered quietly, folding your arms over your chest, "I can't keep doing this to my fiancé, I'm about to get married in a few months. This shit is wrong, and you know that." You gave him a side glance, chewing anxiously on your bottom lip.

Terry sighed, his eyes on you in a near blank stare. This shit was tuning him out. Where was all this shit coming from again? "You came all the way out here to tell me that? What you sayin'?" He asked you, brows slightly furrowed as he looked over your solemn side profile.

You were silent for a moment, mind racing. You dropped your arms from their folded position, fiddling with your fingers and wringing them out in nervous jitters. "We can't do this...any more." You said slowly. You weren't strong enough to do this three months ago, but maybe now? Terry's brows now no longer furrowed, he looked at you with now a completely blank stare, almost like your words weren't toward him. He nodded slowly as you continued though. "But that doesn't mean that I don't wanna see you anymore—we can still be friends, I can still come see you sometimes." You foolishly said.

"Yeah?" Terry asked eyes trailing over your seated figure, hungrily. His hand didn't hesitate to retreat to your thigh, rubbing the thin material of your dress up your thighs. "We can be friends?"

Your eyes dropped from his gaze, to his wandering hands. Skin feeling hot all over again, you resisted the urge to close your eyes, not trusting yourself to speak you nodded slowly. Silly girl, really.

"Yeah?" He asked you once again, brow raising in mock surprise. "You sound so sure, mama. How can we be friends and I can't even keep my hands off of you?" His hands trailing up, up, till they got to the waistband of your pretty images, his long digits slipping inside.

You huffed as soon as his middle finger started circling your hard clit, eyes fluttering closed as you fought to give him a response in return, "you'll learn," you huffed through his subtle, teasing on your clit.

He laughed in response to your statement, "you know that shit ain't true. Don't even know why you fightin' this shit to be honest," he coyly responded, finger sliding up and down slowly from the hood of your clit down to your entrance before slowly slipping his finger inside of you, feeling how snug you felt around him. He mocked your moan of pleasure, watching as your head fell against his shoulder, a small whimper slipping past your lips.

"It's wrong, can't do this, you 'bout to get married," he repeated your phrases back to him, tone patronizing, "but this pussy so wet for me," he mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there before slipping another finger in, eyes darting between your expression and his hand in your panties.

Fingers curling and pushing so deliciously deep, your brows furrowed as you gasped sharply, a soft pretty moan following right after. Terry persisted his soft kisses against your forehead as he continued his assault with his fingers, pace picking up ever so slightly, sounds of your sticky arousal coating his fingers filled the spacious bedroom. You nodded your head at the immense pleasure you felt, soft gasps slipping past your lips with every thrust, "yes, yes, yesss," you chanted to nothing in particular, eyes squeezed shut as your hands instinctively wrapping around his working wrist.

His free hand lazily knocking them away, almost as if you were disturbing him. You whined, feeling his fingers increase in speed, the sound of nothing but your arousal filling your ears as your moans and chanting became silenced behind your quickly approaching orgasm.

Terry took note of your shallow breathing, frozen figure and agape mouth, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead, "there we go," he mumbled against your skin, "cum. Cum for me," he rushed out, fingers slipping out of you to rub in rapid, vigorous circles against your clit. Juices spurting out of you seemingly on command. "Gimme all that shit, stop playin' wimme." He hummed grabbing your slackened jaw, fingers still effortlessly working against you, juices still squirting out of you wildly. Capturing the moans you were finally able to let out right into his mouth.

He didn't stop kissing you, or his lewd actions with his finger until he was sure you had finally rode out your orgasm, trembling and all. He slipped his hand out of your panties, fingers dripping in your essence as you both watched. "Look at that," he mumbled, "came so fuckin' hard." He said before rubbing his fingers against your parted, swollen lips, before slipping them inside your wet mouth. Fingers fucking your wet mouth and throat as he watched, teeth sunken into his bottom lip looking at you with hungry eyes at you tasting yourself.

He slipped his fingers out of your mouth all at once, immediately slapping them against the seat of your nose soaked panties. "Can't make you do that if we just friends."

You hadn't got a chance tip properly take off any of your clothes. He didn't give you a chance. Your dress pushed up above your exposed titties, bra hanging lazily off of one arm, panties pushed to the side. He was so hungry to ravage you, almost like if he'd given you a chance to undress you could change your mind. You were a lost cause as soon as he got you to that bed tbh.

"Stop playin' wimme," he looked up at you, face stern, a stern look in his eyes, hand slapping against your left ass cheek with a hard force, leaving a lasting sting behind you would've cried at hadn't you been so turned on, a needy moan leaving your lips as you slumped against him, "ride that dick right."

You whimpered as he pushed you back, your hands grasping both of his shoulders as you stabilized yourself on the tips of your toes before lifting and slowly lowering yourself onto him, you didn't dare take all of him, what you were taking was just enough, hitting that spot that you liked so much. You kept this up for as long as you could, avoiding his impatient glare.

"Yeah, you playin' with that dick," he mumbled irritancy clear in his tone, both hands gripping either sides of your fleshy hips forcing you down onto him, the stretch coming with that perfect sting, the force of him filling you hurt so good, a guttural moan erupted from you, eyes glazing over as you stared down at him with parted lips, "you know who you with, ride that shit how I like."

The casualty in his tone was abstract to the dirty things he was saying to you, that alone had you leaking all over him. Your whimpers and moans fell into synchronization with the creaking bed, squelching of your pussy and your skin slapping together as you took all of him. Terry's grunts and groans matching yours, his eyes averting back and forth between your pleasurably contorted expressions to where you met at the base of his dick. You felt your self started to slink against his upright figure, arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his neck muffling your audible moans as you continued your rushed pace.

But he had to see you. Had to watch all the pretty faces you made when he made you take him deep like this. Both his hands grasped your torso, lightly pushing you away from him, halting your movements causing him to furrow his brows. "I ain't say stop, keep ridin' that dick," he affirmed, sending another sharp slap to your ass. You whined at the sting, starting to bounce again, ignoring the aching in your calves. Him filling you up once again making your mind a fuzzy mess.

"Just like that," he groaned, looking up at you leaning forward to catch one of your pierced mounds into his mouth, lips latching on softly, the sight making you huff through a moan your own eyes fluttering closed as you continued riding him. He pulled back with a loud pop, eyes watching you intently. "Look at you, fuckin' yourself on my dick like this. But you done with me, yeah?" He asked voice low and uneven as you sunk yourself down to his sticky base where you met, a shallow breath slipping past your parted lips. "You done with me?" He asked a bit louder, his eyes boring into your soft ones.

You could barely answer, mind fuzzy as you fucked your self into an empty oblivion. Eyes closing and then promptly opening, only to roll back. His hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making your brown eyes flutter open, a series of heavy breaths slipping past your lips as you tried to focus on his gaze. "Say the wrong thing and watch I don't let you cum on this dick, you heard me."

"I'm not done," you managed to slur out, voice small and breathy as your hands wrapping around his wrist, for leverage at your now burning knees.

Your quiet response obviously not satisfactory to Terry. "You wanna cum on this dick?" He asked you, still holding onto your slackened jaw.

"Yesss!"

"So let me hear you say that shit. You done with me?" He repeated more firmly.

"Im not done, daddy!" You cried out shaking your head in his grasp vigorously, the tears burning behind your now shut eyes threatening to spill over as you continued trying to fight off your quickly approaching orgasm.

"I know," he cooed, pressing open mouthed kisses all over chest, "I know, baby. You love fuckin' this dick don't you?" He muttered against your skin. Hand dropping from your jaw to join his other in wandering all over your body. You felt so hot, everywhere. Everything felt so good and like too much all at once.

"Yessss!"

"Yeah you do," he hummed through a moan of his own, "keep fuckin' me just like that. Such a nasty lil bitch, keep goin," he groaned.

You opened your tear filled eyes, soft and unfocused as you gazed down at him almost pathetically, "wanna cum daddy. wanna cum so bad," you whimpered.

"m' almost there, baby," he rushed out, eyes focused on the mess you were currently making on him, breathing ragged, "keep goin."

You could tell exactly how close he was when he started thrusting into you, luckily for you anyways, your knees were burning, calves aching, you didn't know how much longer you could've kept up.

"Oh my god," you repeated over and over through a series of heavy breaths and moans, your eyes low, vision blurred as tears ran down your soaked cheeks, "I'm gonna cum! Daddy im gonna—"

"Cum," he breathlessly mumbled, lips parted, "cum on my dick. Let me cum in you, mama."

"Cum in me daddy!" You rushed out, mind completely fuzzy and blank. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You frantically announced, slouching against Terry's broad figure as he continued his sloppy, hard thrusts groaning and grunting as he filled your sensitive pussy with his warm cum. Your ears muffling the sounds of him announcing his orgasm, late of course.

Soft kisses covered your neck and chest as you came down from your orgasm, his strokes now slow and relaxed. But as you came back down you noticed your horrible mistake.

"Cum in me daddy!" Your words echoed in your now stable mind. Canada had to sell plan B's, surely. Right?

Hope you enjoyed <3

tag list: @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @nickidub718 @keehendrixx @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @b2hotty @partypoison00 @grooveoftiro @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @dxddykenn @motheroffae @kaylaahisthebestest- - @hello-therree @simplyzeeka

[keyaho]

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

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Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

[yassbishimvintage]

Ain't Got Shit On Me

MDNI!!!

A/N: @avoidthings be clocking me on all of my shit :). Thanks you bookie.

Warnings: Little fluff if you squint, but smutty smut

It was a quiet night. Terry is busy organizing their room. Something to help with the noise in his head. Terry looked up from the dresser, his brows raised slightly in curiosity. "What’s on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning back against the counter, giving her his full attention. Imani hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt before she took a breath. "Do you ever think about what life would’ve been like if we hadn’t met? If... things didn’t happen the way they did?"

Terry’s expression softened as he set the monitor down and crossed the space between them. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly against her cheeks. "I don’t like to think about that, Imani," he admitted. "Because if we hadn’t met, I wouldn’t have the life I have now. No you. No us. None of this."

His voice dropped, filled with quiet intensity. "You changed everything for me. You gave me purpose, love, and a family. So, no, I don’t let myself imagine a life without you because it’s not a life I’d want to live."

Imani’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling at his words. "You always know what to say to make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world," she said softly.

Terry smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "That’s because you are," he teased lightly, before adding with sincerity, "and so am I."

He smiles. “Now. My real question is. I still don’t know all of you're sex kinks.” She says.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he crossed his arms. "Oh, is that so?" he said, his voice low and teasing. "You mean to tell me you still haven’t figured me out after all this time?"

Imani shrugged, feigning innocence, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her playful intent. "Well, you’re full of surprises, Mr. Richmond. I’m just making sure I’m not missing anything... important," she said, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

Terry stepped closer, his hands finding her waist, pulling her gently against him. "Alright, Mrs. Richmond," he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing her ear. "How about this? I tell you one of my kinks... but you have to tell me one of yours right after. Deal?"

Imani bit her lip, her cheeks warming under his gaze, but she nodded. "Deal," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Terry grinned, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes. "Okay, here’s one: I love it when you’re completely in charge," he confessed, his tone both honest and flirtatious. "Something about seeing you take control drives me crazy."

Imani blinked in surprise before a slow, mischievous smile spread across her face. "Really?" she asked, her confidence growing as she processed his words. "Good to know... because I happen to like it when you let me take the lead."

Terry chuckled, his hands slipping down to her hips. "Looks like we’re on the same page then," he said, his voice deep with amusement. "Your turn, though. What’s something I don’t know about you?"

Imani hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to the side before she met his gaze again. "Alright," she said, a hint of shyness in her tone. "I love it when you whisper in my ear during... well, you know."

Terry’s grin widened as he leaned in, his lips grazing her ear once more. "You mean like this?" he whispered, his voice a seductive rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Imani laughed softly, her hands pressing against his chest. "You’re impossible," she said, shaking her head, though her smile never faded.

"And you love it," Terry replied confidently, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss. "Guess we’ll just have to keep discovering more about each other, huh?"

"Guess so," Imani murmured against his lips, her heart fluttering at the thought.

“And I know you’re a panty sniffer.” She says as she walks away from him with a smile. Terry froze mid-step, blinking in surprise at Imani's bold statement. A slow, mischievous grin crept across his face as he watched her saunter away, her hips swaying just enough to taunt him.

"Excuse me?" he called out, his tone a mix of amusement and mock indignation.

Imani glanced over her shoulder, her smile playful and teasing. "You heard me, Mr. Richmond," she said, her voice lilting with humor. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed."

Terry shook his head, chuckling as he crossed his arms. "Alright, Ms. Carter, you got jokes today," he said, his gaze fixed on her with a smirk. "But you’re not exactly innocent yourself, are you?"

Imani turned fully to face him, her arms crossed and her expression feigning innocence. "Oh? And what exactly are you accusing me of?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Terry took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned in. "Let’s not forget the time I caught you ‘borrowing’ one of my shirts because it smelled like me," he teased. "Or the fact that you still wear it to bed sometimes."

Imani rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed slightly. "That’s completely different," she argued, waving him off.

"Different? How?" Terry pressed, clearly enjoying the exchange.

"Because it’s cute when I do it," Imani quipped, her grin widening as she turned to walk away again.

Terry laughed, shaking his head as he followed her. "Alright, you win this round," he conceded. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with calling me out like that."

"Oh, I’m counting on it," Imani called back, her voice full of playful confidence as she disappeared into the next room.

“So what’s the reason for it?” She asks.

Terry followed her into the next room, his smirk still in place as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.

"The reason for what?" he asked, though the knowing glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Imani turned to face him fully, arms crossed and a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You know what I mean," she said. "What’s the reason for the whole…panty-sniffing thing?"

Terry laughed, the sound low and rich as he pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her. "You really want to know?" he asked, his voice dropping just enough to make her heart skip.

She nodded, her curiosity genuine despite the teasing nature of the conversation. "Yes, I want to know."

He stopped in front of her, his hands settling on her hips as he looked down into her eyes. "It’s simple," he said softly. "It’s you."

"Me?" she repeated, her voice quieter now.

"Yeah," he replied, his gaze steady. "It’s the way everything about you—your scent, your touch, your presence—drives me crazy. It’s like…a reminder of how close we are, how much I love every part of you."

Imani felt her cheeks flush, her teasing demeanor giving way to a softer expression. "Oh," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Terry leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead before pulling back to meet her eyes again. "So, there’s your answer," he said with a small smile. "It’s not just a kink. It’s…you."

Imani smiled back, her arms winding around his neck as she leaned into him. "You’re lucky I love you," she teased, though her voice was warm.

"I’m the luckiest man in the world," Terry replied, his tone sincere as he held her close.

She smirks as she steps out of her shorts. She slides down her lace panties. 

Terry’s gaze followed her every movement, his breath hitching slightly as she let the lace fabric fall to the floor. She stood there, her smirk unwavering, her confidence radiating through the room.

"Now, Mr. Richmond," she teased, stepping closer to him, "since you’re so fascinated, why don’t you show me just how much you love me?"

Terry swallowed hard, his smirk turning into a full grin. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Mrs. Richmond," he said, his voice low and gravelly as his hands reached out to grip her hips.

"Am I?" she challenged, tilting her head as her fingers lightly trailed along his jawline.

Without another word, Terry scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her over to the bed. He set her down gently, his body hovering over hers as he locked eyes with her. "You have no idea what you just started," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers.

Imani's laughter filled the room, light and teasing. "Oh, I think I do," she whispered, pulling him down to meet her in a kiss that left no doubt about where the rest of their evening was heading

He picks up the lace panties. Terry leaned down and picked up the delicate lace panties from the floor, twirling them around his finger as he shot Imani a playful, yet devilish, grin.

"You know," he began, his voice smooth and teasing, "these might just be my favorite pair yet. Not because of how they look—but because of what they just witnessed."

Imani raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she lounged on the bed, clearly amused. "You’re ridiculous, Terry," she said with a smirk, through her eyes sparkled with affection.

He stepped closer, dangling the lace in front of her. "Oh, come on now, Mrs. Richmond. Admit it—you left them on purpose. You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist."

She laughed softly, pulling him down by his shirt. "Maybe I did. Or maybe I just know my boyfriend too well."

Terry leaned in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "Either way, you know what this does to me."

Before she could respond, he kissed her neck, trailing his hands over her waist as he tossed the lace aside. His voice dropped to a husky tone. "Now, let me show you exactly how much I appreciate your little game."

He slowly laid her down on the bed and lowered his head. “Tell me to stop.” his voice dangerously low. She smiles and tosses her head back. “Just shut up and eat me out already.” she responds.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmyextragum

[earthchica]

Everything I Ever Wanted

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: It's been a month since you and Terry welcomed your son, Elijah; both of you have been adapting to parenthood pretty amazingly. However, five months in, tensions arise as you feel overwhelmed by handling most household responsibilities and caring for your son. This imbalance leads to a big argument between you and Terry.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), oral (m), loving making, birthday sex, rough sex, praise kink, choking kink, fluff, domestic life, time skip, angst, mention of postpartum depression, slight communications issues, foul language, argument, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, pretty girl & more ] words: 7k

note: I don't know...I really love writing these two, so we're continuing their story. please enjoy and there may be some errors.

sequel mini series to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist

-

It's been a few weeks since you two brought your precious son, Elijah, home, and the transition has been exciting and challenging, but you and Terry have worked seamlessly as a team, diligently tackling every sleepless night and diaper change.

Besides that, Elijah is an easy baby, though he tends to wake up frequently during the night, yet somehow manages to sleep through much of the morning and into the afternoon. This odd schedule has led you and Terry to refine it soon.

Today had unfolded beautifully, with the late afternoon sun streaming through the living room windows, bathing the space in a soft, golden light. The warmth of the sun felt comforting, creating an inviting atmosphere.

Your parents had come over for a visit, eager to spend time with Elijah again. Laughter and joyful chatter filled the air as they engaged with him, delighting in his coos and how his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Look at you, Eli, such a cutie pie! Yes, you are!” Your mom coos lovingly at her grandson, her voice filled with warmth. Beside her, your dad beams with pride, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"I can't help but agree with you, honey. He's absolutely precious," your dad remarked with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with affection. You glanced over at Terry, and in that moment, you exchanged knowing smiles, both delighting.

“You both did such a wonderful job! You made such a beautiful, healthy baby boy, our first grandson," your mom adds, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness.

“Oh, don’t cry, Mama,” you said gently, moving to rub her shoulder reassuringly. She wipes away a tear and nods, her smile returning, a reflection of the love that fills the room.

“I just can’t believe how fast time flies,” she continues, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “One minute I was holding you as a baby, and now I’m here holding your little one. It feels surreal.”

Terry smiles, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re just so thankful he’s here, and we couldn’t have done it without both of you. Your support means the world to us.”

Your mom beams and then adds, “You know if you two ever need a break or some extra hands, your dad and I are here for you. We can help with babysitting, cooking—whatever you might need! I’d love to take care of my grandson.”

You look at Terry and see the relief in his eyes. “That’s really generous of you, Mama. We would appreciate that a lot. It’s been overwhelming, but we’re figuring it out.”

“Of course! Don’t hesitate to ask, honey,” Your mom says, her enthusiasm unwavering. “I know how challenging those first few months can be. I remember when we had you; the sleepless nights were brutal. But it was all worth it, seeing you grow.”

“We’d love to have you two over whenever you can; the door is always open,” Terry said with a light smile. “We could use a little break now and then,” He added.

"Yeah, you don't forget to find a good balance. Make sure to carve out some quality time together, maybe plan regular date nights every so often to keep that connection strong between you two," your dad suggested, offering his wisdom.

Terry turned to you, a contemplative expression on his face. “That’s true,” he acknowledged. “Yeah, but I'm still a bit scared about leaving him. We’re also just figuring this all out as we go along.” You sighed, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders.

Your mom, ever the pillar of support, gently patted your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “That’s completely natural, honey! You’re navigating a lot right now but doing wonderfully already. Trust your instincts and know your limits; always listen to what feels right for you.”

Her eyes sparkled with comfort and encouragement. “Remember, we’re just a phone call away if you need us. We want to be involved and support you as best as possible.”

“Thanks, Mama. That really means a lot to me,” you replied, feeling gratitude and comfort wash over you. At that moment, wrapped in this bubble of love and support from your family, you couldn’t help but feel reassured

After their visit, you and Terry finally settled down for dinner. You had already fed Elijah before the family arrived, and while he dozed peacefully in his tiny bassinet by you, both of you enjoyed a quiet meal.

You cut into your chicken, glancing over at Terry, who adores Elijah sleeping. “yo, I still can’t believe how well Eli took to his new sleep routine,” Terry said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Like...remember those first few nights? We were both so damn exhausted!” He added, making a silly expression.

You chuckled. “Yeah, it felt like we had entered a marathon. But now, we’re finally getting the hang of it. It’s great seeing him so peaceful.” You nodded toward the bassinet, where Elijah stirred slightly but remained asleep.

Terry smiled. “He really is an easy baby. I heard some parents struggle for months. We really lucked out.” He paused, and his expression turned serious.

"I was talking to my mom earlier, and she mentioned how she felt depressed after I was born; she didn't think she would get out of it if it wasn't for my dad and proper therapy. It made me wonder if you are feeling like too?” He asked, looking at me curious.

You set down your fork, the question hanging in the air, and you took a deep breath, feeling guilt wash over you. You hadn't intended to hide your feelings from Terry, but the whirlwind of emotions that came with new parenthood had left you feeling unmoored.

“I… I did feel a bit overwhelmed in those first few weeks,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze momentarily. “There were nights when I hid in the bathroom downstairs, just couldn’t stop crying, you know? It was like all the stress and exhaustion piled on top of the joy of having our baby.”

Terry’s brow furrowed with concern, but he nodded. “I wish you would’ve told me, baby. I wouldn’t have been upset; I just want to be here for you, especially now that we’re married and we have a family. We’re a team.”

The warmth in his voice made your heart swell. “I know, Terry. I didn’t want to add to your worries, especially with everything else happening. I thought I could manage it alone, and it felt… silly to feel that way when we have this beautiful son.”

Terry reached across the table, taking your hand gently. “It’s not silly at all, baby. It’s a huge transition; you don’t have to pretend everything’s always okay. I’m your husband, and I want us to share the good moments and the tough ones, too.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit of the weight lift. “You’re right. I should be more open; I'm still learning that, but I’m relieved to say I’m not feeling that way anymore. It’s getting easier every day. I think I was shocked at first and scared… but I want you to know that I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Terry said, his expression softening. “But please promise me that you'll talk to me if you start feeling like that again or any kind of way. We gotta be completely honest with each other. We can face anything as long as we’re open about it.”

You nodded, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. “I promise. It’s just… this new journey we’re in, it’s like it’s made up of all these conflicting emotions. I love being a wife and mother, but it’s also a lot of pressure.”

Terry smiled gently. “It is. And we’re figuring it out together. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. If you ever need to vent or cry or just take a break, I’m here, baby, and I love you. We’ll make it through all of it, hand in hand.”

Feeling reassured, "I love you, too, Terry, so much." A soft smile crossed your face, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the depth of your strong connection.

Once dinner concluded, and after indulging in a few light-hearted movies, you noticed that Elijah was still curled up, sound asleep. Deciding it was time for him to be tucked in, Terry gently picked him up to carry him to the nursery.

The soft coos and gentle sounds from the baby monitor filled the air, and a warmth spread through your heart as you listened to Terry's soothing voice.

“Goodnight, little man; Daddy loves you so much,” Terry whispered tenderly, gently kissing Elijah's forehead before quietly retreating from the nursery, leaving the door slightly ajar.

With a soft smile still lingering on your face, you walked to the bathroom to complete your nightly routine. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and carefully wrapped your hair in a bonnet, feeling the day's exhaustion wash over you.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Terry already settled in bed, waiting for you. You crawled under the covers and snuggled into his chest, feeling safe and content as he leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into comforting darkness.

As the gentle glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light in the room, Terry leans closer, brushing a soft kiss against your cheek. With a tender whisper, he softly says, "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,"

His voice is warm and soothing, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You turn to him, a smile spreading across your face, and reply, "Goodnight, baby. I love you too!"

-

three months later.

As the soft light of dawn began to spill into the room, you stirred awake, feeling the cool sheets beside you and realizing Terry was already up.

The familiar hum of bike tires on pavement whispered through the open window, reminding you of his early morning routine. A smile crept across your face as you realized today felt extra special

— it was Terry's birthday.

You stretched and yawned, the warmth of anticipation bubbling up within you. With a silent promise to keep the surprises under wraps, you slipped out of bed and quietly padded downstairs to the living room.

The air was fresh and crisp, and you began carefully arranging the decorations you had picked out over the past few days. Balloons of black and green adorned the walls, while a “Happy Birthday Terry” banner hung cheerfully above the couch.

Nearby, you carefully placed the birthday gifts, ensuring each was perfectly wrapped and waiting for his eager eyes. Once the decorations were set, you decided to get Elijah from his crib.

You breathed before going upstairs and down the hallway, your heart swelling with excitement. Opening the nursery door gently, you peeked in to find him peacefully sleeping, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

You couldn’t resist leaning over to press a soft kiss on his forehead, eliciting a small sigh from him as he stirred. “Good morning, my beautiful boy,” you whispered gently.

You lifted him from his crib. Elijah blinked sleepily at you, his eyes wide and bright, sparkling with joy at the sight of you. “Look who’s awake!” you said with a cheer, cradling him against your chest as he stretched his little arms and let out a delighted coo.

“Did you know it’s Daddy’s birthday today?” you beamed at him, your heart melting at his baby gurgles. “We have some fun surprises planned, little man!”

Elijah’s face broke into an adorable smile, his eyes dancing with delight as you continued talking to him, explaining everything you had planned for his father's special day.

As you carried him back into the living room, he kicked his legs, clearly excited about the decorations, reaching out to touch the balloons as they floated gently on the ceiling.

Once settled on the couch, you nestled Elijah against you, pointing out the colors. “Look, Eli! Black and green!” He babbled back as if he understood and wanted to join the conversation, his eyes reflecting pure happiness.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention, and you glanced up to see Terry walk in. His body was slightly shaking from the morning cold, and a bright smile lit up his face as he quickly glanced at you.

“Hey there, Birthday King!” you cheered, lifting Elijah slightly to catch his father’s attention. His eyes widened in disbelief as he absorbed the decorations fluttering in the morning light.

Terry’s eyes traveled from you to Elijah, and his smile widened even more.

“Yo, you did all this for me?” Terry exclaimed, a laugh escaping him as surprise painted his features. "Yeah, of course, happy birthday, baby. I wanted to make today special for you. You deserve it all and more.

“Also, someone who wants to say ‘Happy Birthday’!” You leaned down, holding Elijah out toward him, and the sight of Terry's boyish grin melting into a look of pure love made your heart swell.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy! I love you so much!” you said in a baby voice. Terry laughed and gently took Elijah in his arms, peppering him with kisses as the baby squealed in response, his tiny hands reaching for his father’s face.

“This is amazing! Thank you, sweetheart!” He said, leaning down to give you a soft kiss, the warmth of his lips lingering just a moment longer, filling you with warmth.

“Glad you like it,” you replied shyly, “I wanted to surprise you right after your bicycle ride.”

“Nah, I love it, and I appreciate it; I appreciate you,” Terry chuckled, looking back at the decorations with pure gratitude. You felt a surge of happiness that today was all about him.

“Haha, good...Now Terry, let’s have breakfast!” you started with a giggle. “How does breakfast burrito sound?” You asked, guiding him to the kitchen and putting Elijah in his cute little high chair.

“Mmm...breakfast burrito sounds good!” Terry replied enthusiastically. “if I'm being honest, I could eat a mountain of them right now.”

“I’ll whip them up, and you can handle Elijah’s breakfast,” you suggested, glancing down at him. Elijah watched, his big hazel eyes touching the joyful atmosphere, cooing softly.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart!” Terry said, turning towards the bottle warmer and preparing Elijah’s bottle. He expertly filled it, the familiar routine filling the air with comfort.

“You know, I’m grateful,” he said, glancing back at you with a soft sparkle in his eyes. “Not just because of my wonderful birthday surprise, but because I wake up every day to my beautiful family.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a fluttering warmth spreading as you started making the ingredients for the breakfast burritos. “Well, we’re grateful to have you, too,” you replied, smiling at him.

“You’re the best dad and husband anyone could ask for, T,” You said, reaching over to kiss his cheek, and he shyly smiled. “I do my best,” he said with a light chuckle, holding the bottle to Elijah’s mouth.

The baby eagerly latched on, and as you watched the two of them, your heart felt full. With the smell of bacon and eggs beginning to waft through the kitchen.

You flipped the first burritos, the golden brown surface looking just right. Elijah finished his bottle, and Terry gently patted his back. A small burp echoed, causing both you and Terry to laugh.

“That's my little man,” Terry said, kissing Elijah’s forehead again. The burritos were done with excitement and love. Terry placed a smiling Elijah back in his high chair, positioning the bib around him.

"Was it good, Eli?” you asked, smoothing his curly hair as the three of you gathered around the table. Terry grabbed burritos and turned back to you.

“Thank you for this. This morning is already one of my favorites.” He said, and you smiled, your heart swelling once more. “You're welcome, baby.”

"Was it good, Eli?" you asked, smoothing his curly hair as the three of you gathered around the table. Terry grabbed burritos and turned back to you.

"Thank you for this. This morning is already one of my favorites, " he said, and you smiled, your heart swelling again. "You're welcome, baby."

After breakfast, Terry cleared the table, and you picked up Elijah since he wanted to be held by you. Once he finished the dishes, you three moved into the living room.

"So what do you want to do for your birthday, today?" You asked softly, and he turned to you with a light smile on his face as he gave it a thought.

“You know, I was hoping we could sneak away for a bit—maybe see that movie we’ve been discussing? Just the two of us.” Terry answered with a nod.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also a bit hesitant. “But what about Elijah? He’s still so little…” You said with a sigh, and Terry still smiled warmly, leaning in closer.

“That’s why I thought we could call your parents and see if they could take him for a few hours. I know they love spending time with him, and it would give us some much-needed alone time.”

You considered it momentarily, biting your lip as you glanced at Elijah, who was now giggling at the little plush toys hanging from his play gym

“You know what? Let's do it, shit, it's your birthday. They'll actually be thrilled to have a little time with him,” you said with a nod, trying to shake off any lingering doubts.

“Let's go!!!! I’ll call them right now,” Terry said, his excitement contagious. You watched as he grabbed his phone, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Terry stepped a bit away to talk, leaving you to play with Elijah, who was happy cooing and made it hard not to smile. A few minutes later, Terry returned, his expression lit up.

“They’re on their way! Said they can’t wait to see him,” he said, and the both of you chuckled at how eager your parents were to dote on their grandson.

-

When your parents arrived, they walked in with greetings of warm hugs and kisses on the cheek and happy birthdays to Terry, instantly melting your heart as they fussed over Elijah.

“Look at our big boy!” your mom said, tickling him lightly, which sent him into fits of giggles. You grab all the stuff that you think they would need.

Before they left, they turned to you, sensing a little of your worry. “You know we’ve got this,” your dad said reassuringly, giving you a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

“Don’t stress. You two deserve some time together; enjoy your birthday, Terry. Elijah will be just fine with us.” He added more, and your mom chimed in as well.

“And we promise to take lots of pictures! You’ll see; everything is going to be just great,” She said with a smile, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

“Thank you, Mama and Dad. It means a lot to us that you’re willing to take him,” you said, your voice sincere as Terry stood beside you, wrapping an arm around your plump waist.

After they left, you and Terry got ready and were on your way out for his birthday. The car ride to the movie theater felt like a burst of fresh air, filled with light-hearted banter between you and Terry.

“What do you think? You think this movie is gonna be any good?” Terry asked, pulled smoothly into the parking lot. You could hardly contain your enthusiasm.

“Definitely! I’ve heard some really good things about it,” you replied, a joyful flutter in your chest. You and Terry got out of the car and eagerly made your way toward the grand entrance of the theater.

The excitement in the air was palpable as you purchased two tickets, Next, you approached the concession stand, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly popped popcorn enveloping you two.

You and Terry grabbed a large bag of fluffy popcorn, skittles, M&M's, and two icy drinks, each clinking lightly as you and Terry juggled them toward the screening room.

As you stepped into the dimly lit theater, the soft glow of the screen illuminated the space, and you could hear the low hum of chatter mixed with the sound of previews playing in the background.

You chose a comfortable seat, sinking into the plush cushioning beside him. You couldn't help but feel giddy with anticipation for the movie to start.

The movie was a hilarious romantic comedy. During the funny moments, you found yourselves laughing, giggling, and playful nudges, Terry; you enjoyed this time you both had togather.

“That was so good!” Terry exclaimed, turning to you with a sparkling grin, and you nodded. You nodded in agreement, still buzzing from the excitement of the film.

As you stepped out of the theater into the cool evening air, you pulled out your phone and noticed several messages from your mom, each accompanied by adorable pictures of Elijah.

Eagerly, you swiped through the images, each capturing the little moments of his day—his cherubic smile, tiny fingers curled around a toy, and that sweet, peaceful expression he wore while napping.

You turned the screen towards Terry, who leaned in to get a better look. he smiled and gazed at the photos. “See, there’s nothing to worry about!” he said, a look of relief washing over him.

“Yeah!....So where to next, my king?” you asked, flashing a playful smile that lit up your face. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow around you, and the excitement in the air was palpable.

“How about Dave & Buster's?” Terry suggested, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled, making you wonder if he could no longer contain his excitement.

“I can’t wait to beat your high score in air hockey,” he declared confidently, a mischievous glint in his eye. You gasped in mock disbelief, tilting your head as if contemplating his challenge seriously.

“Oh, nah, baby! Good luck with that, haha! You do realize I’m the reigning champion, right?” you teased, laughter bubbling up as you struck a pose, pretending to bask in your glory.

“We’ll see about that,” Terry replied, a smirk playing on his lips, his competitive spirit ignited. It was clear that the rivalry was only beginning, and you couldn’t wait to see how it unfolded.

-

Once at Dave & Buster's, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The two of you dived into the arcade, trying your hands at different games. The sound of laughter and the clinking of tokens filled the air as you challenged each other to various contests.

You spent more time than you’d like to admit racing against each other in virtual go-karts and trying to win substantial stuffed animals from claw machines.

You even shared a few sweet moments, like when Terry won a miniature robot and presented it to you with an exaggerated bow.

“For my beautiful queen, from the finest arcade in town,” he declared dramatically, and you giggled, kissing his cheek.

As a final showdown, you headed to the air hockey table. The chatter around faded as you focused on each hit, your competitiveness fueling both your laughter and playful banter.

“Prepare to be dethroned!” Terry joked, his eyes gleaming with determination, but you managed to outscore him again. As the game ended, you jumped up victoriously, doing a little dance.

“Once again, I’m the queen of air hockey!” you teased, doing the running man dance, and he playfully pretended to sulk. “Alright, alright, you win this time,” he laughed, pulling you into an embrace.

“But next time, I’m definitely coming for that crown!” Terry said, wrapping his arms around your shoulder.

After enjoying some food and a few more games, you both left with big smiles and full hearts, reminiscing about all the fun you had that day.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in beautiful hues of pink and orange as you made your way back home, still buzzing with joy.

When you arrived home, you gently opened the door, revealing your cozy living room. “You know, I think this might have been the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Terry said, wrapping an arm around your plump waist as you walked inside.

“Wait, there’s one more surprise,” you said, biting your lip to hide your excitement. You glanced at him and motioned towards the bedroom.

“I love surprises!” Terry said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Why don’t you wait on the bed? I'll be in the bathroom?” You said both of you walked into your shared bedroom.

Terry sat on the bed and grinned widely, and you slipped into the bathroom to change into something special. You retrieved the white lace lingerie you had tucked away.

You had bought it a year ago, never expecting you’d wear it until today. As you put it on, the fabric felt soft against your dark-brown skin.

You smiled at your reflection, feeling a mix of horny and excitement. After a moment, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. The dim light casting a gentle glow revealed yourself to Terry.

The look on his face was priceless—his jaw dropped slightly, and his eyes widened in pure delight. “Fuck,” he breathed, and he had a smirk spreading.

“You look absolutely sexy, baby. Is this all for me?” You felt a rush of warmth at his words, stepping forward to close the distance between you.

“Yes! Happy Birthday, King,” you said softly, bursting with love. “I think I’ve just found the best part of my birthday,” he murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist as he leaned in for a kiss, tongue dancing togather as his hand gripped your round of ass.

You moaned, pulled away from the kiss, and gave Terry a sly grin, pushing him back onto the bed. Feeling excited, you walk over to your phone and put some seductive Bluetooth music on.

You swayed your hips to the beat, making your way over to him and straddling his lap. Terry let out a low groan as you ran your hands down his chest, teasingly tracing the outline of his muscles.

You leaned close to his ear, your breath hot against his skin as you whispered, "Enjoying your birthday so far, big daddy?" before gently biting his earlobe.

“More than I could have ever imagined, baby,” Terry groaned, grasping your breasts. You continued to move sensually against him, feeling yourself getting more turned on by his reactions.

You couldn't help but smile at how much he was enjoying this. Slowly, you began to grind against him, feeling the heat between your bodies grow with each movement.

Terry's hands found their way down to your hips, guiding your movements as he let out a string of curses under his breath. ”Fuck, baby girl, I need you,”

You feel the bulge in his pants growing harder by the second and decide it is time for a change of pace and stand up, swaying your hips seductively as you slowly strip off the lingerie piece by piece.

Terry's eyes roamed hungrily over your plump, curvy body, desire evident in every line of his face. When you were entirely naked, you climbed back onto his lap, feeling the electricity between you both intensify with each touch.

“How do you want me, Terry? You know I love pleasing you; it is my favorite thing.” You said softly, and a primal growl escaped Terry's lips as he fixated his dark, lust-filled eyes on you.

His body trembles with desire at your question, and he pushes you down to your knees in front of him. "I need that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around me, baby," he demands, his hands caressing himself through his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling the wetness between your legs intensify as you quickly unbutton his pants and pull them down along with his boxers.

With a sly smile, you leaned forward and took his throbbing dick in your hands, and began stroking him, lathering him up by licking your hand.

You took him in your mouth, feeling his hand thread through your curly hair as he let out a deep moan. You moved your head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke.

You love using your tongue to tease and please him. “Mmm…I always love the way you taste, Terry,” You said, taking him out of your mouth for a second.

Terry's eyes rolled back in pleasure as you continued to work your magic on him. His grip on your curly hair tightened, guiding you deeper and faster.

You pulled away with a gasp, saliva dripping from your mouth, and asked, “Mmm, talk to me Daddy how does it feel?” hitting his dick on your face before sucking at his balls

Terry's breaths were coming out in heavy pants as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust. "It feels fucking amazing, baby," he groaned, his hips moving involuntarily as you took him back into your mouth.

You moaned in response, the vibrations sending shivers down Terry's spine. Your hands continued to stroke and tease him, making him ache for more.

Terry couldn't resist any longer and tightened his grip on your hair, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. "Oh fuck, yes," he grunted, his hips thrusting faster now.

You could feel him getting closer, and you knew just how to push him over the edge. You used your tongue to trace patterns on his dick while sucking harder, causing Terry to cry out in pleasure.

"Damn it, sweetheart" he exclaimed as he spilled into your mouth. His body shook with release, and you swallowed every drop of his cum before sitting up and licking your lips.

"Mmm, your cum tastes so sweet," you said with a sly smile. Terry pulled you up onto the bed and flipped you onto your back, his eyes burning with desire as he hovered over you.

"I need to be inside of you right now,” Terry growled before capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He wasted no time in entering you, causing you both to moan, and you wrapped your thick legs around his waist.

Terry's thrusts were slow and deep, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Each one sent waves of pleasure through your body, making you moan louder and arch your back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Does it feel good, baby?" Terry groaned, rising up as his hands gripped your wide hips tightly. He couldn't get enough of you; how you felt around him was like nothing else.

“Ah, yes, yes, fuck” You moaned, placing your hands around his wrist as he continued to thrust inside of you but still slowly. The room was alive with the sound of flesh softly smacking together, accompanied by your moans and his deep grunts.

"Oh, Terry, I love you to death, and I'm so grateful for everything you do. You're such an amazing man," you gasped out between breaths as he showed you exactly how much he loved you in return.

This man was more than just a husband, he was your everything, and nothing could change that. “Shit, baby, if you keep talkin' to me like that, I might nut another baby in but I'll save that for another time,”

Terry's muscles rippled as his eyes locked on yours with intense desire. The room around you was a blur as you focused on him, seeing the pleasure on his face.

“Pleeease, speed it up, Daddy fuck me harder.” you moaned out as Terry's hands tightened around your plump waist. “Mm, my nasty girl wants it harder?”

He asked, looking down at you with a smirk before picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he hit all the right spots inside of you.

“Yess, just like that, fuck…fuck me.” you cried, your body trembling from the intense pleasure of the pace. Your fingers gripping onto Terry's broad shoulders as he thrusts harder inside of you.

His hands tightly gripped your hips, leaving marks in their wake. The plush bed sheets envelop you in a cocoon of comfort, the heat emanating from Terry's body seeping into your own.

Looking up at Terry again, his intense gaze penetrates through you like a laser beam, igniting a fire within your core. You flip him onto his back, and his dick slides back into your wet, throbbing pussy.

His face contorted with pleasure, and his hands gripped your waist tightly. You bounce on him, your movements wild and uninhibited, your bodies melded in a passionate rhythm.

"Shit, I love you" You cried, can't help but admire the handsome man beneath you, his features twisted with ecstasy as his strong hands caress your breasts, thumbs circling your hardened nipples.

Arching your back, you grind your hips down harder, taking him even deeper inside you. The delicious friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that, Daddy?" you purr, clenching around him. Your body is slick with desire, and you can feel your pussy pulsing for him. "You like how wet I am for you?"

Your voice dripping with need and longing. Each movement sends shivers of pleasure through your body, and you're unable to resist the urge to press closer against him, wanting to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

“Shit, shit, yes, yes,“ Terry grunts in response, gripping your hips and thrusting up to meet your movements. The new angle hits just the right spot, making you cry as you feel him wrap his hands around your neck.

“Bounce on that fucking dick, baby, bounce on that shit” Terry moans, his face contorted with pleasure and adores before his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open in a moan.

His chest rises and falls quickly as his body moves to meet yours. As you continue to ride him, you can feel your orgasm building, and you know that Terry is close, too.

The way his grip tightens on your neck, and his thrusts become more erratic tells you that he's reaching his peak. You lean forward, placing a hand on his chest for balance as you increase the tempo, feeling him filling you up completely with each thrust.

"You gonna cum for me, Daddy?" You moan into his ear, nipping at the lobe as your movements become more desperate. "You gonna fill me up with your hot cum, huh?"

Terry's response is a primal growl as he flips the two of you over, taking control once again. He pins your hands above your head, pounding into you with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Each thrust brings you closer to the edge, and just when you think you can't take it anymore, Terry's lips crash onto yours in a passionate kiss.

Your body explodes in pleasure as Terry's release hits him, too, both of you crying out each other's names in ecstasy. Your bodies are slick with sweat as he collapses on top of you.

Both of you breathing heavily and riding out the waves of pleasure. "God damn," Terry says between pants, pecking kisses all over your face before pulling out and snuggling into bed beside you.

You turn to face him, smiling contentedly as you can see the sweat glistening on both of your bodies and the satisfied smile on his face. His eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you.

As you lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking, Terry brushes a strand of curls hair away from your face.

"I can't believe how blessed I am to have you; thank you. This was an amazing birthday, baby" Terry says, his voice filled with love and sincerity as he gazes into your eyes.

You smile softly, feeling your heart flutter at his words. "I’m glad you enjoy yourself, Terry; I love you," you reply, tracing circles on his chest with your finger.

"I love you too" Terry leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. The kiss is slow and deep, conveying all the emotions that words can't express.

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body as you pull him closer, surrendering entirely to the moment. The world around you fades into the background, leaving just the two of you.

Suddenly, the peace is interrupted by your phone ringing, jolting you back to reality. It’s a call from your parents, who are on their way home with Elijah.

The moment's warmth slips away as you both realize how quickly time has passed while you are wrapped up in each other. After the call, you and Terry decide to refresh yourselves.

You step into the shower together, steam rising as water cascades over your bodies, the lingering temptation of another round swirling in the air, but you got washed.

Once you’re both dressed, there is a sharp knock on the front door. The sound echoes through the space, signaling the return of your parents and Elijah.

You went to go, and open the door to find them standing there, smiling warmly, with your dad holding Elijah's colorful diaper bag in one hand.

Excited chatter fills the air as they express their eagerness to babysit again. You can’t help but smile at the joyous moments ahead as you take the baby bag from your dad, feeling grateful for them.

-

Terry sat comfortably in the cozy living room, a soft smile on his face as he held Elijah in his arms, gently cooing at your son and making him gurgle with delight.

As you carefully lit the candles on the birthday cake, the delicious scent of vanilla wafted through the air, blending with the excitement of the celebration.

You took a moment to glance at Terry and Elijah, savoring the heartwarming scene before returning your attention to the flickering flames atop the cake, ready to sing "Happy Birthday" to your husband.

You entered the living room, the familiar tune bubbling up from within as you began to sing. Terry's smile widened at the sound of your voice, a beautiful melody that filled the air with joy.

Fascinated by the flickering candles, Elijah stared in awe, his little face brightening. As you concluded the song, your voice melded effortlessly with the warmth radiating from the room.

"Make a wish, handsome," You said with a smile, and Terry laughed softly, the sound rich with love and appreciation.

Terry closed his eyes for a moment to make a wish, and with a deep breath, he blew out the candles, sending a gentle plume of smoke swirling into the air.

'Yeah!!! Happy Birthday, Terry" You cheered happily, joy radiating from you as you watched the sparkle in his eyes, reflecting his contentment and love on this special day.

-

three months later,

making it six months since you gave birth.

As the months rolled by, it was in the middle of summer now, and you found yourself deeply immersed in the new routine of motherhood. Elijah was now six months old, and his personality began to blossom.

Each day brought challenges and joys, but lately, you felt the weight of the day-to-day responsibilities resting heavily on your shoulders. It had been particularly tough since Terry returned to work not too long ago.

The warmth seeped into your skin as the sun shone brightly in the sky, refreshing your spirit. You packed a picnic basket with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some sliced apples, and a few cookies for a treat.

A soft blanket tucked under your arm, you walked to the park with Elijah nestled comfortably in his stroller, his tiny hands reaching up to the blue sky.

Once you arrived, you could hear the joyful sounds of children playing and laughter echoing around you. Finding a quiet spot under a large oak tree, you spread out the blanket and settled Elijah beside you.

His hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity as the gentle breeze rustled the leaves above. “Look at that, Elijah,” you smiled, pointing at a group of kids playing.

“Isn’t that amazing? One day, you’ll be over there with them.” You said, and Elijah cooed, kicking his little feet in excitement. You leaned down and tickled him, drawing forth a chorus of giggles.

“Would you like some yummy lunch?” you asked, reaching for a sandwich. As you offered him a few pieces of the soft bread, he leaned forward, trying to grab it with his tiny fingers.

His attempt was met with clumsiness and delight, the crumbs scattering on the blanket. A few moments passed of quiet enjoyment as you both munched on lunch.

You watched Elijah��s attention shift from the kites to the vibrant flowers blooming nearby. “Do you like the flowers, little man?” you asked softly with a giggle, noticing his wide-eyed wonder.

“They remind me of you—bright and full of life.” You said, kissing his forehead, and after the picnic, you lay back on the blanket, watching the clouds drift by.

Elijah babbled contentedly beside you, mimicking the sounds of nature. “You know, sometimes being a mom feels overwhelming, but moments like this make it all worth it,” you murmured softly.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice, “There you are!” It was Terry, looking a bit winded but incredibly happy to see you both. “I managed to leave work a little early. I wanted to surprise you guys!”

Elijah’s face lit up at the sight of his dad, and he wiggled with excitement. Terry knelt down, scooping up Elijah into his arms. “Hey, baby boy! How was your day?”

“It just got a lot better,” you replied, grinning. As the three of you settled back on the blanket, you felt the burdens of motherhood lift slightly.

After your delightful picnic, filled with laughter and sunshine, you all eventually returned home, savoring the remnants of the joy spent outdoors.

Soon you set about preparing dinner. You moved gracefully around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces while Terry kept a watchful eye on Elijah, who was happily playing with blocks on the living room floor.

As the two of you sat down to dinner, the table was beautifully set, and the warmth of the home enveloped you. You both talked about your days and how things were.

After finishing the meal, you rolled up your sleeves and tackled the clean-up together, the sound of clinking dishes and the warmth of togetherness filling the room.

You then turned your attention to Elijah, who was starting to squirm in his high chair. You went to change his diaper, the familiar routine providing a sense of contentment as he giggled at your playful face.

Meanwhile, Terry settled in in the living room, PS5 video game music punctuating the air. You felt grateful for the day, not expecting the lovely to suddenly take a turn for the worse.

"Terry?" You called from the top of the stairs, your voice echoing softly through the house. "What?" Terry shouted back from the living room, focused on the video game flashing before him.

"Where's Elijah's lion?" you asked, cradling your squirming son on your hip. You had been trying for the past hour to calm him down, and the soft cries coming from him were starting to wear you thin.

"I don't know; check under the couch," Terry replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders as if it were a minor inconvenience. His nonchalance infuriated you.

"Shh, it's okay, Eli. Look, it's Simba! You love that movie, don't you?" you encouraged, trying to distract your son while glancing underneath the couch for the stuffed animal.

"Mmm," Elijah murmured, seemingly comforted by your words. You sighed in relief as your fingers brushed against the soft fur of the Simba toy nestled between the dust bunnies.

"Look, Eli, look who I found," you said cheerfully as you handed him the toy. His face lit up, and he babbled happily, his tiny fingers gripping the toy tightly.

A wave of contentment washed over you, and you softly sang a lullaby, hoping it would lull him to sleep. Once, he was peacefully dozing in your arms.

You carefully laid him in his crib and headed back downstairs to confront Terry, feeling both exhausted and exasperated. "He's asleep?" Terry asked, still engrossed in his game.

The screen glowed brightly as he played. "Yeah, but maybe it would've been easier if you actually helped me," you said, descending the stairs with a slight edge in your voice.

"I do help; what do you mean? I just washed the dishes with you" Terry replied, pausing the game and looking at you with an attitude that sent another spike of frustration through you.

"Yeah, when you want to," you shot back, and he rolled his eyes, which only fueled your anger further. "Well, I work," Terry mumbled as if that was the end of the conversation.

"Excuse me?" you asked, standing before him with your hands firmly planted on your hips, refusing to back down. "You heard me, I'm not about to repeat myself."

"I work; I would love to just come home and relax. I put food on the table and clothes on our son's back, and I pay all the mutherfucka bills around here." Tery ranted on.

"Is it so bad to ask for some quiet time?" Terry snapped, his voice rising and echoing in the small living room. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Sure, the two of you had minor arguments here and there, but he had never spoken to you like this before.

"I understand what you're saying, Terry, and I tell you how grateful I am for you. But it's not like I'm asking for much! You may be the one who brings home the paycheck," You started, moving in front of him.

"But I'm the one who takes care of our son around the clock; I cook, clean, and manage everything at home. You aren't the only one who's working their butt off!" you raise your voice a little bit.

"What's gotten into you? You never had a problem with this before! Now it's a problem?" You questioned, your demeanor shifting as confusion filled your eyes.

"Maybe I'm just tired of you," Terry said softly, and suddenly, the air in the room felt heavy, as though a dam had broken, releasing all the pent-up frustrations.

"Okay, well, maybe you should've married someone else if I'm such a fucking burden," you retorted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

You dashed upstairs to your shared bedroom, trying to hold back tears. "Shit!" You heard him curse as he called out your name, but you didn't stop to listen.

You closed the bedroom door behind you with a decisive thud, sinking onto the edge of your king-size bed before you buried your face in your hands, feeling the tears coming down your face.

[slutsareteacherstoo]

Reina…i been reading this in between my breaks and lunch today. YOU ARE SOOO DIABOLICAL IN THE BEST WAY! This was soooo amazing!!!

My reactions will be below🤭

FIRST THINGS FIRST!!!

We love a good outfit opener 🙂‍↕️

“The tip of my nose was left stinging from the wrath of the cold.” Come one sensory and imagery

The lockdown browser - THAT WAS A THROWBACK 🤣

The educator eye contact is real. As a student i hate it but as an educator im like give me something. PLEASE 😭

FAVORITE GIRL?!?

“Of course, I did. That's why I… talked you through it,” he said, looking me up and down. - I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!!!!!! (I love this by the way. Love me a good ellipsis)

Not the big girl voice!!!! TERRY RICHMOND IK WHAT YOU ARE 🫵🏿

Please not him on the TikTok

NOT HE GOT A GOOD ASS MEMORY 😳 ID BE ORANGE. OH HELL 🫥🫣🫠

Okay Professor🙄 cool it. Youre not special. Just another nigga out here. Tf you think you talking to?? YOU TELL HIM ATHENA 🗣️🗣️🗣️ since you wanna be big and bad or whatever😒

Nah cuz he’s dead wrong for that! You know its hella people in the library tryna study. You talking about Athena and Shanice being loud. Nigga look at you!!!!!!

Whew 😅 not they bout to desecrate the books, chile.

OH HE WAS PREPPING WITH THAT TALK THROUGH BEFORE!! I bet you the next time Athena present something she gon be thinking of him TEW much like🤭

*water shaking GIF*

PRETEND HES NOT THERE?!!! ARE YOU (Terry) OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?! 😭 (this is so diabolical!!! I love this!!!!)

Not even gon hold you, Id make him give me the money to buy another pair😏Clothes are expensive!!!! Esp in the cold at the end of the semester……

“He slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them to my mouth. With no hesitation, I parted my lips and stuck out my tongue. I was more than ready to lick my cum off his fingers.

Before I could react, he drew his hand back and brought it to his mouth. “Mine,” he grumbled in my ear. His tongue flicked between his fingers as he cleaned them. I watched him in a blissful combination of shock and lust.” - OHHHHHH I LIKE!!!! THATS MY TYPE! THATS MY TYPE. And frok behind???🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ *head nodding emojis*

“Unfortunately for me, this was the first time in my life that my mouth had written a check that my ass couldn't cash.” - i thought we was ending on this as a cliffhanger here which would be been wild and evil 😈 but theres more ahhh🙈

YUP YOU NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN REMEMBER WORDS TERRY

WELL SHIT

*you tell em baby gif*

Not the sex making you lose grip on reality. It must be SOMETHING!!!!

“…Don't worry. Imma talk you through it like I always do…” see that throughline?!?!? *faints*

Nah i got bad knees. Cant be doing all that bending but go on Athena 🫣🤭

PLEASE BOTH TERRY AND ATHENA GOT THINGS UP THEY SLEEVES. LOCK IN GIRL!!!🤭🙂‍↕️

YOURE NOT DONE?!?! 😳

WOW. And now the story is done 🥹

Wow thank you for this blessing. Im going through the mentions. Im making my way back 🙂‍↕️🫡

Let Me Teach You

Pairing: Toxic Professor!Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, baby girl, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), P in V, Toxic Dom!Terry *if you squint and turn your head*, breeding kink

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

ding

Shanice: wya

Me: Heading to the Eng. 2 study session for finals

Shanice: aww, you going to see bae🥰

Me: STFU!

Shanice: why you mad? you know i ain't lying

Me: Go to hell. I ain't got time for this. BYE!

Shanice: oop! k, bye hoe

As I approached the door to the classroom, I saw a sign taped on the glass. There was a message written in red.

Study session moved to the library

Oh, come on! That meant I now had to walk across campus. Reluctantly, I turned on my heels and walked toward the exit at the end of the hallway.

Opening the double doors, the winter breeze whipped me across the face. I knew my face was probably red and puffy. The tip of my nose was left stinging from the wrath of the cold. I was pissed because I had dressed way too lightly for this. I was only wearing a black T-shirt dress, thin black tights that looked like stockings, and a black and white varsity letterman jacket. At least, my furry black boots were doing a hell of a job keeping my feet warm.

10 minutes later

As I walked into the assigned study room, I was confused by it being empty. I took a seat on the third row which was closer to the back of the room.

I always felt more comfortable being as far away from the front as possible. It made it easier to get lost in the sea of students when professors and teachers wanted responses.

Placing my bag on the floor beside me, I begin to unpack my notes and final essay. Leaning over with my head facing the door, I see a pair of feet walk into view. My body tenses up because I know exactly who these brown loafers belong to. I immediately feel my heart rate quicken as I battle to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

“I guess you're the only one concerned with your final grade. I hope they know this is a proctored exam through a lockdown browser,” Professor Richmond said, walking to the front of the room.

“If they don't, they'll find out,” I laughed while sitting up. I slid my jacket off my shoulder and placed it over the back of the seat.

“You know what? I'll give them 15 more minutes, otherwise, I guess it's just you and me,” he said, winking.

I grew immediately hot. I could feel myself blushing. I didn't want him to see my face, so I quickly dropped my head.

“Fine with me,” I mumbled.

“What was that, love?” he asked, turning away from the whiteboard to look at me.

“Oh, um… I said that that was fine with me,” I said louder than before. I still didn't raise my head to look back at him.

“Ok. I hate… never mind. I'll keep my thoughts to myself,” he said, turning to the whiteboard.

“Never mind what? Speak your truth, professor. You hate what?” I asked, flipping through my notes.

“When you don't look at me while speaking. I like to know I have your attention. It lets me know if you're at least engaged,” he said, writing on the board.

“I just have a hard time with eye contact. Too much of it makes me… uncomfortable, I guess. I wish I knew that bothered you sooner,” I said, lifting my head to look at his back.

My eyes locked in on the movement of his back muscles. Through the material of his collared shirt, I could tell this man was sculpted like a God. I dropped my head and pressed my thighs together. I shouldn't be thinking about this man like this, but damn… I had been struggling with this feeling all semester.

“Especially, when it comes to you, it's not often that I meet someone with equally, if not, more striking eyes. Yours are just mesmerizing,” he said. I could hear him exhale with a shudder.

“Uh, professor… Are you okay?” I asked, looking at him.

His movements had paused as if he were lost in thought. I noticed that his grip on the dry-erase marker seemed dangerously tight.

He let out a much calmer breath than the first, “Yes.. yes, I'm fine. What about you?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, questioning if he was telling the truth. His mouth said one thing, but his body told another story.

My thoughts began to roam as I grasped that he called my eyes striking and mesmerizing. I was so used to people calling them beautiful or pretty that I was honestly stumped.

As I waited on his instructions, I lingered on the difference in his word choice. There had to be intention behind those words. You would only use those words if the person affected you, right? So, why would Professor Richmond use those words about me?

“Athena! Athena! Can you hear me?” Professor Richmond called out.

“Yeah. Yeah. I can… Shit,” I said, stopping in my tracks when I realized he was standing in front of me.

His 6’3 frame was probably the most intimidating yet sexy thing ever. His broad posture dominated the space in front of me. His musky cologne smoldering and intense— sandalwood and amber flooded my nostrils. This man's entire being was overwhelming my senses. All while silently drawing me in.

“I called your name a few times. You didn't answer me. You had me scared for a second,” he said, leaning down to look at me.

He leaned over so that his arms were propped on the table. Raising his eyebrows, he was waiting for me to recollect myself.

“You sure you're okay?” he questioned softly.

“Yes, sir. I promise. I was in my head and didn't realize you were that close,” I said, leaning back in the chair. I wanted to create as much space between us as possible.

“I'm sorry if I scared you, hun. That was never my intention. Just wanted to make sure my favorite girl was okay,” he said, placing his hand over his heart.

“I know. I'm fine. Uh…” I said, scanning around the room. I paused as I realized he was doing it again— using questionable words.

“Yeah, no one else showed up. Since it's just you and me, you might as well move closer. There's no reason for you to be way over here,” he said, motioning towards the front.

I nodded my head yes. I leaned down to grab my bag from the floor. Looking up, I see the professor has grabbed my things that were on the table. He walked to the front of the room and placed them on the table in the front row. He positioned me so that I was right in front of him.

Standing up with my bag and jacket, I walked to sit in the seat he chose. I was in no mood to argue or move seats. Hell, I probably couldn't even if I tried.

I quickly sat down and focused on the topics of the upcoming study session. I decided to ask as few questions as possible because I needed to get this over with. The thought of being alone with his fine ass for almost 2 hours… Jesus Devanté Christ help me.

1 hour and 45 minutes later

“So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day? Anything interesting?” he asked while walking behind me.

As we exited the study room, I noticed how empty the library was. As expected, the campus was becoming more and more desolate as the end of the semester drew near.

“No, sir. I'm going to check out a poetry book for a quick read. You know…. Something I can finish before they close the library for the semester,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Hmm… I've noticed that you seem more drawn to poetry. Your poems are honestly some of the most… insightful and beautiful ones I've read from a student in a long time. You should do something with that?” he said, walking alongside me.

“Thank you, but what do you mean by do something?” I asked, stopping to look at him.

“Publish them, Athena. You don't even have to publish all of them as a full body of work. I just want people besides me and your classmates to experience them,” he said earnestly.

I smacked my lips. “Professor Richmond, really? Don't act like you didn't see me sweating like a pig while reading them to the class!” I exclaimed.

“Of course, I did. That's why I… talked you through it,” he said, looking me up and down.

“Talked me through it is an understatement. You practically had to hold my hand each time,” I laughed into my hand.

“Yeah, I definitely had to help you find your big girl voice,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I know my voice is normally low, but you didn't have to say it like that. That was mean,” I said in a fake pout.

“Aww, I'm sorry. My bad, love. I just know you're capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. I wish I had more time to pull it out of you,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

I froze as I watched his lip settle between his teeth. My breathing hitched silently. His lips were a blessing to look at— bright pink, plump, and full. The smoothness reminded me of rose petals, intensifying my desire to want to kiss and suck on them. I yearned to know what they felt like against my lips and skin.

Snapping myself out of my lust-induced trance, I brought myself back to our current conversation. This was the first time someone other than Shanice had been so enthusiastic about my writing.

“I don't know. The thought of so many people possibly reading my thoughts scares me. I treat my poetry like diary entries most of the time,” I said, swaying from side to side.

“No pressure. This is your art we're talking about. Just consider it, okay? Actually, there's something I would like you to read if you'd allow me to make a suggestion,” he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Sure. I trust your judgment,” I replied.

“Ok. Follow me,” he said, placing his hand on my lower back and guiding me through the library.

He guided me towards the section of the library labeled erotica. I was honestly a bit confused. I side-eyed the professor. Why would he bring me here?

“Ok, listen to me. Don't… umm… don't back out on me. If you do feel uncomfortable, you can walk away now,” he said, nodding at me.

“I'm fine,” I said, gesturing towards the shelf.

“That's my girl. I promise that I won't let you down,” he said, smiling as he turned to scour the shelf. I watched in awe as his fingers glided across the spines of the array of books.

Professor Richmond turned to me and handed me a book. It was small but hefty. The edges of the pages weathered from years of use. This was a sign of a well-loved book.

I looked up to find the professor staring at me. His smile was bright and wide enough to reach his eyes as they twinkled in excitement.

“A Woman in the Wild. Hmm…,” I said, turning the book over and reading the back.

From the cover and the synopsis, it was obvious this book was sexual in nature. The cover was extremely sensual yet tasteful. It was more suggestive than direct, depicting a woman holding a peach dripping in honey in front of her lower abdomen.

“It's about a woman's journey of exploring sex in her 20s. I think you'll like it,” he said, holding his hands together.

I giggled at his reaction. He looked like a kid sharing their favorite toy. “Professor Richmond is into raunchy writing, huh?” I giggled.

“Why do you sound surprised?” he questioned before moving closer to me.

“No real reason. Just that—,” I said, stopping myself. I didn't want to make Professor Richmond think I was judging him.

“No, explain. I want to know. What's wrong? You scared of me, Athena?” he questioned, pushing the book downward.

“Of course not!” I responded.

“Then, use your words. I've graded enough of your essays to know you have a helluva way with them, Ms. Athena. Come on. Don't get shy on me,” he said.

“You won't judge me?” I asked sheepishly.

“What're the kids saying, now? Oh, we listen, and we don't judge. Promise,” he said, raising his hands.

“Oh my God! Fine. You just give off nice guy vibes. I can only see you as super sweet and quiet, especially outside of class. You don't seem like the type to really be out there,” I blurted out as fast as I could.

“That's what you think of me?”

“Maybe…”

“Hmm… That's very interesting. What can I do to change that?”

“To be honest, nothing.”

“You know, honestly, I don't like being perceived. It's even worse when it's wrong.”

“Oh, um… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, Professor. I just wanted to be honest.”

“Oh, don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for, love. Just be… be… be careful with your cute self.”

“Cute?! Professor, gone somewhere. I'm not finna play with you,” I said, playfully hitting his arm.

“What? Why? You don't think you're cute?” he questioned back.

“First of all, I know I'm cute! The problem isn't what you're saying. It's the fact that YOU'RE saying it.”

“And? So?!” he spat.

“You’re my professor. That's inappropriate, right? Like, can't you get fired for this?”

“Who's going to know? Huh? And, that's funny that me being your professor matters now,” he said, glaring at me.

“Huh?” I asked. My face contorted in confusion. What did he mean by that?

Professor Richmond’s mouth turned upward into a devilish grin.

“Maybe, next time you and Shanice decide to talk about me, you shouldn't do it outside my classroom door. That wasn't very smart. Was it?” he asked, pushing one of my loose strands behind my ear.

“Wait…”

“I think I remember you saying you wanted to know what my hands feel like wrapped around your throat, what my dick looks like when it's hard, what—.”

“Okay! I get it,” I whined. I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment. I dropped my head and began staring at my feet.

“Don't interrupt me because you got caught.”

“Boy, leave me alone!” I said, pushing past the professor. I needed to get away from this man as fast as I could.

He instantly grabs the strap of my bag, pulling me back to him.

“Boy? I'm a grown man. Don't be disrespectful, love. I don't think I deserve that,” he said as a smile began to spread.

“Whatever, professor.”

“I mean, look at how I got you running. You can't wait to get away from me,” he silently laughed.

“Running? From you? Now that's cute!” I scoffed.

“Keep playin’, and I'll show you. Nah… I'll teach you.”

“Teach me then!” I mumbled assertively. “Wait… I… I didn't mean that,” I stuttered, realizing my mistake.

I couldn't comprehend why I was all of a sudden being so bold. This was something I had never done before. Hearing myself speak like this was personally shocking.

“Hahaha, you're scared of me. Just say it,” he said, gesturing for me to walk beside him.

“Scared of what? Professor, you're probably one of the least intimidating people on campus to me. You can't be serious about all of this, right?” I probed, hoping this was all a fever dream or even a joke.

“What? You gone tell that your professor—,” he started to speak.

“Can you not? Jeez, people may hear you,” I whispered.

“Oh, so you ARE scared? Aww, so you definitely wouldn't want people to know that you want to be tied up and spanked while I—,” he began again.

I threw my hand over his mouth and quickly scanned the area around us.

“Hey!” I whisper-yelled. I looked deep into Professor Richmond's eyes, hoping he would catch the hint. I removed my hand from his mouth.

“Yeah, I heard that part, too. You and Shanice can't whisper for shit. You would've been better off just telling me,” he said smugly, shrugging his shoulders.

This side of the professor was an asshole, but… I liked it.

“Ok, so what? I said some nasty shit about you. What're you gonna do about it? Report me or something?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Nah, I got a better idea. Walk,” he demanded through gritted teeth.

He used his hand on the small of my back to guide me further into the back of the library. I couldn't believe I was letting this happen. With HIM of all people!

Once we were in a dimly lit corner, he stopped me. He stood in front of me, leaning over. “Before I touch you, I want to know that you are okay with this. There's no pressure. You can stop me at any moment, and you can leave. No hard feelings,” he said, stroking my cheek.

“I'm okay. Just a little nervous,” I mumbled as my mind began to race with a million thoughts.

The thought of being caught was my main concern. I knew this part of the library was never used or even looked at because it was where old and abandoned textbooks went to die. There were rows and rows of books before anyone would even come close to us.

“Good. I'm warning you now that I can be a tad bit aggressive,” he said, standing to his full height.

“That's fine. I like aggressive,” I said, resting my hand on his chest.

He dropped his brown leather satchel behind him. “Yeah, I figured. Turn around for me and hand me your bag,” he demanded. His voice had dropped a few octaves and was now a low rumble.

I could feel it as the sound of his voice traveled from my ears straight down to my pussy. I just knew that my leggings were ruined. I had lost all control over this situation. My brain had turned off, and my pussy had turned on.

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want me to do,” he said, leaning into my ear.

The heat from his breath warmed the sides of my neck. Thinking and forming sentences were damn near impossible.

I closed my eyes and drew in a sharp breath as my nervousness took over. I knew myself too well. When I'm nervous, I become a stuttering mess.

“Hey, we talked about this. Whenever you're too nervous to speak, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You repeat it until you’re calm enough to start, right? Because we don't rush our words out, do we?” he said, softening his tone.

His hands slid across the sides of my hips.

“Right, we don't rush. Ok, I got this,” I whispered while taking deep breaths.

“Of course you do, love. Ease into it, and take your time. I really wanna hear it from you,” he said, firmly holding my waist.

“I… umm… I want you to—,” I stuttered as I stumbled on every word.

“Think about what you want to say first. Then, slowly talk me through it. I wanna know every little detail. Do you understand?” he asked.

“Ye—. Whew. Yes, sir. I… I understand,” I replied.

“Good girl. All I want you to do is focus on telling me all your little fantasies. I don't care about how nasty or how dark they are. Say it. And, one more rule— pretend like I'm not here. Okay?” he asserted.

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered with shaky hands.

“Calm down your mind first, and your body will follow. Isn't that what I taught you?” he whispered into my ear.

I could feel him take a step back as his hands slid from around my waist. Thank God! His hands being on me was making me overwhelmingly anxious.

I shook my body as much as possible, trying to release the nerves. I focused on clearing my mind of all the negative thoughts that were coming up— this was inappropriate, he was going to laugh, and I was making a fool of myself.

I wanted to glance back at him for reassurance, but I knew he hated it when we looked at him during our oral presentations.

I inhaled a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders on the exhale. I was going to do this.

I WAS GOING TO MAKE SURE I MADE PROFESSOR RICHMOND PROUD.

“Okay….” I said slowly and evenly.

“If you are ready, proceed. Make sure your posture is engaged and your voice is both loud and direct. Got it?” he asked as his voice rumbled from a few feet behind me.

I nodded my head yes and began speaking. “I want you to choke me while playing in my pussy. I want to feel the full wrath of your hands until you leave your mark on my ass and thighs. I wanna know what your dick feels like in my hands. I wanna know what it feels like if I lick it with my tongue. I want to use my mouth to drain you until there's nothing left,” I said slowly as I vocalized all of my dirtiest thoughts.

“Ughh… Fuck, baby girl. That it?” he asked as his voice shook.

“No! I want you to fuck me until my walls remember the shape. I want you to fuck me like my body was made with only you in mind. I want to turn my brain off, and let myself just… just let you take control. I desire to please you with every part of me. I want to make you moan over and over again so that it'll be the only sound in my mind for weeks. And, when we're done, the thought of touching myself is ruined by my body remembering the way your hands felt.”

“Enough!” he grunted.

It was clear that what I said had affected the professor tremendously. Every breath he took came from his chest like thunder. He was struggling.

“Professor?” I asked, attempting to turn around.

“Call me Terry!” he grumbled.

He grabbed my shoulders to prevent me from doing so. I took that as a sign to remain still as I waited for him to say or do something. The silence was driving me insane.

Terry abruptly pulled me back into him. His chest collided with my back. I let out a loud gasp. Terry's hand flew over my mouth.

“Don't! I'll give you everything you want as long as you stay quiet. Got it, love?” he asked as his hand slowly fell from my mouth.

I shook my head yes.

“Good girl. Now, all you gotta do is focus on staying quiet and enjoying yourself. Take off your tights and hand me your panties,” he said.

“What panties?” I asked smugly.

“No panties, huh?” he laughed menacingly. I could tell he was shocked.

“None. I promise,” I said, raising my hand. I laughed at his reaction.

“Oh, I gotta see this for myself!” he said, sliding his hands around my waist.

They slowly dropped to my pussy. Using his knee, he pushed my legs open. His fingers slid over the crotch of my tights and rested between my legs. When his hands stopped moving, I knew exactly what he found— a wet and sticky mess.

My inner thighs and pussy were becoming warmer by the second. I could feel myself becoming fidgety. This man was making an absolute mess of me.

“Oh, that's nice. I hope you don't like these tights,” he whispered as he used his fingers to rip open the middle seam.

I gasped again before catching myself. I brought my hand over my mouth.

“Unless you want me to stop—,” he started.

“Mmm mmm!” I mumbled, shaking my head.

His hand rubbed up and down the slit of my pussy. Dipping his fingers between my lips, he wiggled them back and forth in the sticky mess. He slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them to my mouth. With no hesitation, I parted my lips and stuck out my tongue. I was more than ready to lick my cum off his fingers.

Before I could react, he drew his hand back and brought it to his mouth. “Mine,” he grumbled in my ear. His tongue flicked between his fingers as he cleaned them. I watched him in a blissful combination of shock and lust.

“As much as I want to finish you here, I want all of you. Having you in this library isn't enough for me. I want to hear you moan and scream. I want to hear you say my name while you struggle. I need more, Athena. Where's your phone?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder as his chin nuzzled into my neck.

“In my pocket,” I whimpered.

Terry reached around the sides of my letterman jacket, searching each pocket. He pulled out my phone and took a step back.

After a minute or so, he walked in front of me. Glaring down at me for a second, he slowly closed his eyes. He was just as overcome with lust as I was. His eyes were practically slits, and it appeared that he was possibly biting the inside of his cheek.

“Here. You now have my personal number, and I have yours. I will text you with instructions on where to meet me. One question before we go our separate ways. Do you feel comfortable coming to my home, or would you rather meet somewhere else?” he asked, handing me my phone back.

I grabbed it and placed it back into my pocket.

“Your place,” I answered while rocking back and forth.

“Hmmm. Ok, you sure about that?” he asked.

“Yes. It's less likely that we'll be spotted, right? Plus, it's where you'll be most comfortable,” I said, staring him down.

“Oh, you're a big girl, huh? If you knew what was best for you, you wouldn't keep staring at me like that. I'll happily say fuck this job and fuck you right here,” he said, licking his lips.

I watched his tongue closely. Between his words and his tongue, I was losing my fucking mind. I began to think of all the nasty things he could use that tongue for.

“Hey, you gotta stop. I'm struggling just as much as you are, mama. We gotta at least leave this library in decent condition,” he laughed.

I wanted to yell out fuck being decent, but I knew he wouldn't like that very much.

“Ok. Sorry,” I said, snapping out of it.

“It's alright. Just go straight to your dorm and get cleaned up. Also,…” he said, stepping closer. “Don't touch yourself,” he said, tilting my head to look at him.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Good girl, and don't make me come find you,” he drawled, winking at me.

We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Terry suggested that I leave the library first.

I left and walked to my dorm room in absolute silence. I gripped the strap of my bag for dear life. My emotions were in a whirlwind. I didn't know how to feel about what just happened.

I wanted Professor Richmond in the worst way. I had never had a man make me melt in his hands.

How the fuck was I going to make it through the night? Granted, I wasn't a virgin, but I was definitely nowhere near Terry's level of experience.

Unfortunately for me, this was the first time in my life that my mouth had written a check that my ass couldn't cash.

Later That Night ~ After 9 pm

ding

Terry: Hi, I was just letting you know to wear something cozy.

Me: Hmmm… That's not what I was thinking.

Terry: ???

Me: I had something else in mind.

Terry: 1 attachment

Me: How's that?

Terry: Oh, that's better than I had in mind. TBH, I didn't know you had it in you. Maybe, my good girl isn't so good after all.😈

Me: Wow! You know, I don't like being perceived. It's even worse when it's wrong.🤭

Terry: Not you using my words against me.

Me: I was trying to remember where I had heard that before.😏

Terry: Sassy much?

Me: 😂🤭

Terry: Wear whatever you like, love. It's not like you're going to keep it on anyway.

Me: Well, then… Maybe, I'll just wear nothing.

Terry: You're not going to like the outcome of that. TRUST ME! So, behave.

Terry: Also, I hope you followed my rule.

Me: I did.🙄

Terry: You know you have to see me soon, right? So, all this sass and attitude will be addressed, love.

Me: What're you going to do about it?

Terry: See you soon.😈👿

Later That Night at Terry's Townhouse

As soon as I entered, all it took was a single look for me to know I was in for a wild night. We didn't even make it to the bedroom because Terry had other plans. He wasn't joking when he said my attitude would be “addressed”.

Now, here I was on my knees in front of Terry as he stood in the middle of his living room. We didn't even make it farther than 10 feet into the room before Terry started his attitude adjustment.

With a mouthful of dick, I was struggling to answer his questions. Between my saliva and his precum, the mess inside my mouth was becoming hard to contain. As spit bubbles formed and poured from the sides of my lips, I focused on not choking on the sloppy mess building in my throat.

“I wish you knew how pretty you looked right now,” Terry said, fisting the hair at the back of my head.

I mumbled out a weak thank you.

“Don't talk while your mouth's full. That's rude. Just nod your head, love. There you go. That's my pretty girl.”

“So, are you done having an attitude, yet?”

I eagerly nodded my head yes, tugging lightly on the handcuffs behind my back.

“I don't know. I'm not really convinced. Hmmm… Open,” he demanded, grabbing both sides of my face.

I opened my mouth and pulled back. My breathing was erratic and sharp as I gasped for air. I had been sitting on my knees with Terry's dick in my mouth for at least 10 minutes— no sucking, no licking, no moving. Just sitting there… All the while, he stood there talking his shit.

A trail of my saliva and his precum hung from my lips, dripping onto my chest. It only added to the preexisting mess on my face, neck, and chest.

“Eyes!” he barked, causing me to look up at him. “Next time, are we gonna behave?”

I nodded my head yes.

“Speak. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, pleading with my eyes.

“That's my girl. That's all I wanted. Clear understanding, baby. Now, come here.”

Terry leaned down and carefully lifted me to my feet. My knees were sore and wobbly upon standing.

“I promise to be nicer for the rest of the night,” he said, walking around me.

He unlocked the handcuffs and removed them gently. Tossing them on the couch, he walked to stand in front of me again. He lightly grabbed each of my wrists and massaged them.

“Too much?”

“No,” I giggled.

“Hmm…,” he scoffed. “Lesson learned, huh?”

“Yes, sir. But, a reminder every once in a while won't hurt.”

“Don't tempt me, love,” he said, pulling me by my waist.

“My bad.”

“Why are you so bold all of a sudden? Where was this energy in class?”

“Well… No one else is around. The only person I have to worry about is you.”

“I guess. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back.”

Terry turned to walk away from me and disappeared down the hall.

I sat on the couch, flexing my wrists. As I waited, I glanced around the room. His home was spotless. He was clearly a man who believed in minimalism.

I turned my body to face the mirror. I laughed at my reflection. I was still covered in the mess we made. My chest and lower face were shiny and slightly slimy.

As I touched the puddle on my chest, I could hear Terry returning.

“A towel,” he said as he rounded the back of the couch.

“Thank you. I need it,” I said, reaching for the towel.

“I gotchu, baby. I did make the mess.”

Terry planted himself in front of me and stood between my legs. With one hand on my left cheek, he used the other to gently tilt my head to look at him. As he cleaned off my face and chest, the warmth of the soft plush fabric felt so much better than the cold slimy mess that once was.

“Better?” he asked, looking me in the eyes.

“Yes. Much better,” I smiled back.

“Would you like something to drink or eat? I have wine if you'd like some.”

“No, thank you. Plus, I don't drink.”

“Really? That's… uh… surprising, I guess. It's not something you hear often. Any particular reason?”

“Never wanted to, so I just never started.”

“That's definitely something to be proud of.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

Terry squatted in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. “So, I'll leave it up to you, Athena. How do you want this to go? We can sit here for a while or we can—,” he started.

I interrupted him with tenacity. “Fuck me already!” I yelled.

I can tell that Terry was shocked by my statement, but I was sick of waiting. This man had no idea of how many nights I dreamed of this happening, how many times I fingered myself wishing it were him, or how many times I yearned to touch some part of him.

“That's all I needed to hear,” Terry said, standing.

Without another word, he lifted me onto his shoulder. My hands flailed around in horror. I was instantly afraid that he would drop me.

“Don't worry, baby. This isn't my first time. Relax, I gotchu.” He laughed.

20 LONG Minutes Later

“Oh, Terry. Please!” I moaned, pushing at his chest.

Terry's hands grabbed mine and held them against my stomach. I was losing my damn mind in this bed. Now, I was second-guessing if I should've even tried to take the dick.

“Please…just… fuck… I can't!” I yelled.

Terry's hips slowed down again.

“Mmm,” Terry moaned clearly enjoying himself.

“Ahhh, fuck. This feels… it feels…,” I stuttered.

Wrapping his arms around my thighs, he pulled me closer. As if his dick wasn't deep enough, this made it feel deeper.

“Yes, you can. I know you can handle it,” Terry groaned.

I was fighting the urge to disassociate. I was fully prepared for this man to fuck me up and put me through the mattress, but this… THIS!!! I was not. I wasn't being fucked at all. I was being loved on and taken care of.

“Baby girl, stay with me. We talked about this, love. I wanna see those pretty eyes,” Terry said, reaching for my face. His hand cupped the underside of my chin.

I tried my hardest to look at Terry, but I was also I was fighting to stay present. Every fiber of my being was feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated.

“Athena! Look at me, NOW!” Terry ordered.

Listening like a lost child, my eyes opened to find Terry's. His glare was piercing into me— soul-deep. I let out a deep breath, hoping and praying that I didn't pass out.

“That's it, baby. Stay with me. Eyes on me,” he grumbled as his head dropped to watch his dick slide in and out of my pussy.

“Terry! I have… I have… to… unh… pee…,” I stammered, stumbling over every word.

Terry's eyes met mine. His face was overcome with lust. The gaze this man possessed sent chills down my spine. His eyes were low and dark, glazing over more and more by the second.

His thrusts quickened with fervor. Leaning over me, he began to speak again.

“That's not pee, baby. Don't worry. Imma talk you through it like I always do. Okay, mama?”

“Shit! What… I need… but…,” I attempted to respond.

“Don't talk just listen. Relax your abdomen, mama. There you go,” he said, kissing my neck. Stop tensing up. Uhh uhh, don't think about it. You let me worry about all of that.”

His hands wrapped around the back of my knees, pushing them back. I swear I heard my knees pop in my ear from this position.

“Fuck you,” I said absentmindedly.

“That's not nice, but since you asked for it…,” Terry's smile turned into a devilish grin. His hips snapped against my ass, and the force caused the headboard to bang against the wall.

If I didn't know it then, I sure as hell knew it now. THIS MAN WAS ABOUT TO GIVE ME HELL!

“Wait!” I yelled, trying to get out of his grasp.

“No, ma'am. We don't run in this house. Take this shit.”

Pushing up on his legs, I felt like this man was trying to actually fuck me into the mattress. Tears began to fall from the corners of my eyes. If I had just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn't be in this position.

I closed my eyes, trying to just take it. The pressure I felt before was 100x worse now.

“Open your damn eyes! Right now, Athena.”

“I ca—,” I started.

“Nah, you gone show me how good this pussy is, or you ain't cumming at all.”

“Aww, fuck… please… do something,” I begged. I felt like I was about to piss all over this man.

“Okay,” Terry practically laughed as he leaned down, licking the tears falling down my face.

His hand reached over me to grab the top of the headboard. Using it as leverage, Terry used every inch of his dick to punish me. As if I wasn't struggling enough, I had to survive a new level of demon dick Terry. I knew that after this; I would have my wish. My pussy would definitely be molded to only fit him.

“Look at you. That's right, baby. Now, let it go!” Terry moaned loudly.

He used his free hand to press against my abdomen. This singular move was the catalyst for the start of the flood between my legs.

“Oouu… look at you. Stay just like that,” he mumbled through gritted teeth.

His head fell back on his shoulders as he continued to pound into me. It was becoming more apparent that Terry was losing it as his hand slipped from the top of the headboard.

Shifting quickly, he placed one hand by my ear and braced himself on top of me. His head fell forward, and his mouth dropped open. His eyes locked onto mine. I was still too fucked out to speak.

“It's coming, baby. Fuck! This… ahh, fuck.”

“Shh… It's yours. Let it out,” I said, wrapping my legs around Terry's waist. I brought my hands around his back, holding him in place.

I was about to indulge in my little breeding kink fantasy. If he was going to cum, it was going to be IN ME!

“Mama, that's not… uhh, fuck!” Terry groaned as his eyes snapped shut.

I knew what was coming. I felt the warmth of his cum coat the inside of my pussy. Like a switch went off, I released a second orgasm. Terry's breathing became erratic and choppy as his eyes reopened to look at me.

“Shit, that's a dangerous game you playing’, lil girl!” Terry exclaimed, leaning up.

He let my legs fall as he pushed my thighs open.

“Damn!” he said, watching his cum drip from my pussy.

Terry tilted his head so that it was directly over my pussy. His mouth opened slowly. I watched as he let a thick trail of saliva fall straight into the mess between my legs.

“Huh, ahh. Terry!” I said, watching him in shock and lust.

“Yeah, I'm… I'm not done,” Terry said, pushing himself back inside.

All I could do was moan out in pleasure. I grabbed Terry, pulling him back in and forcing him to go deeper. If this is what he wanted, fuck it!

Let's be honest, the nasty freak in me liked this shit. It wasn't like I wanted him to stop anyway.

Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @kimuzostar @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @megamindsecretlair @mymindisneverhere @writingsbytee @brattyfics @avoidthings @keyaho @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @onherereading @nayaesworld @phuckyoreblogs @venusincleo @1darknymph @insertcatchynamerighthere @honeytoffee @mitruscity @ladypegusus-blog @lettersofgold @jimmybutlrr @5headsupremacist @blowmymbackout @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @ariiijestertheklown @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @pinkpantheris @talkswithdesi @dxddykenn @simplyzeeka @theglamclosetsl @melaninadorned @peachbuttetfly

[blackmissfrizzle]

Dracarys

Pairings: Dragon Shifter!Terry Richmond x black!reader

Summary: The reader just wants to be a dragon rider for a bit and Terry is not up for it.

Warnings: None really. This might be the most PG thing I've written. Its fluff and right now the reader and Terry are not in a relationship, just friends.

A/N: This is part of a series of one-shots, rather than a linear series. Some fics will be multiple parts and some will not. This one might have a part 2.

Check out my old ass work here -> My Masterlist

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I respect myself.”

“I respect you too.”

“Not if you’re asking me to do that.”

“Don’t you love me? Your bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“Bestest is not a word.”

Terry Richmond was absolutely infuriating. First, he wouldn’t let you ride him and scream dracarys and now he’s correcting your grammar. This is what you get for being friends with an old ass dragon shifter. Where was the YN dragons at?

“Shut the fuck up, Terry.” You stomped behind him, not catching the little smirk that graced his face.

“Oooh, such unladylike language. You know what your mama would do if she caught you cussing like that.”

“Good thing, my mama ain’t here!” How did you, the kinda silly, bend a couple of rules kind of girl end with the strait-laced, strict boy best friend? Probably had to do with him being a couple of centuries old. He must’ve been really lonely. Now he was never getting rid of you.

It took a slow jog for you to catch up to him and smack him behind his head. Terry whipped his head towards you and instead of those stormy green eyes you were met by black slits. “That stopped scaring me months ago. Try something new.” You waved him off, unaffected by his reptilian eyes.

Terry grunted and kept walking. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because it would be cool, and I can be like Danerys or Rhaynera. But the black version of them.”

The only change in his face was a slightly raised eyebrow. If you didn’t know Terry well, you wouldn’t be able to decipher his expression. Right now, this was, ‘I’m gonna correct her ass’ face. “Isn’t there a couple of black Targaryrens in the show?”

You jumped up and down in his face. “I knew you liked watching House of the Dragon! Yeah, they’re from Corlys’ line.”

“The old dread head that never listens to  his snow bunny?”

“THE QUEEN THAT NEVER WAS! RIP to a real one. Nigga, you really do be paying attention.” You were tickled pink. Every Sunday night when you drugged Terry to watch HOTD, the man always acted like he had something better to do.

A minute quirk of his mouth let you know he was amused and not really annoyed with you. “It’s one of the more accurate depictions of dragons, Personality wise at least.” The reactions and commentary of Seasmoke toying with that knight was the best. Terry did have to agree that dragons and cats has similar temperament to a degree,

“I thought of you more like Smaug, greedy and grumpy.”

The low rumble let you know to get your knees to your chest or duck. More than on one occasion, Terry blew fire in your direction. He literally lit a fire under your ass. “Okay, maybe not Smaug. Maybe more like Toothless.” You couldn’t help yourself and egged him on.

“A cartoon dragon?!” He roared.

A huge grin appeared as you ducked under the stream of fire. Haha! A reaction, finally!

“Now, I’m never letting you ride me.” He crossed his arms, making his muscles just *pop*.  God, dragon God, whatever higher power really took their time with this man. What a shame he wasn’t interested. The man or dragon was searching for his mate and that was not you.

“Your loss, big boy.” You patted his chest. “I could’ve rocked your world!” You whined your hips to the music in your head.

A charge of heart and maybe head (lower head), made Terry give in. “Fine,” He sighed, shifting into his dragon. The North Carolian mountains provided the perfect cover. He could cruise the sky without being detected. Also, if needed he possessed the ability to become invisible. A gift from helping a witch long ago.

Giggles and a huge smile consumed you. “I knew you couldn’t tell me no. Now don’t be going fast or trying to throw me off. I know how you like to play too much.” You kissed a scale on his neck.

Of course, he couldn’t tell you no. You were his mate after all and he would do anything to make you happy, even if he felt like a fool.

[halfreal-and-halffiction]

Not Good Morning America making a fan vid. The world loves this (our) man 😂😂😂

@megamindsecretlair @keyaho @blackgurlnhermoods @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[novahreign]

This made me nervous posting this. I’m not the best writer but I do try and I don’t have any fancy pictures but I hope that you enjoy it, just the same.🫣

“Kendra, Wait!” Tyler rushed behind her friend who sped past patrons in a restaurant to rush to the bathroom. The bride to-be, got lost between waiters and guests who stood around mingling. Tyler sidestepped quickly to avoid knocking into a waiter coming with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres that she completely missed the guy coming on her left, bumping into him, spilling red wine on herself and his white button up shirt.

“Oh my goodness. I am so sorry, I was trying to avoid hitting them-

“Hey.”

“And I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t even see you.”

“It’s o-“

“Now your shirt is ruined!”

“Hey. Hey.” Rough, large hands took hold of shakey hands-steadying them. “It’s okay. It’s just a shirt, it’s all good. He gently moved her toward him” come this way.”

“I got it ma’am.” One of the waiters said. She moved aside so he can clean her mess. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re fine ma’am. It happens quite often.” He chuckled. She gave an embarrassed smile and turned her attention to the man whose shirt she messed up. Her head jerked back, wow. Her eyes scanned over his features. He was handsome.

“Umm…Can I buy you a drink, you know, to make up for this?” She motioned to his shirt

Terry was about to answer but her friend came up to her, getting her attention.

“Ty, It’s not looking good in there, She needs you!”

“Okay, uh, don’t go anywhere, I still owe you that drink!”

She followed behind Marcy and found Kendra slumped over the bathroom toilet.

“I think we may have pregamed too hard.” Shonda, the matron of honor said. Tyler had to agree.

“Guys, why’d you let me drink like this Ughh, I’m never drinking againnn” Kendra’s words slurred” Kendra let out some more, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. They were supposed to be celebrating Kendra’s last two nights as a “not so single, single” and now Tyler was trying not to inhale the smell of alcohol mixed with Cajun seafood. The bathroom smelled vile.

“Marcus is going to be mad at me.” Kendra whine, throw up sliding down her chin.

“No, he’s not. “ Tyler wiped her face with a wet paper towel before throwing it on the toilet”Because, tomorrow you will detox and it’ll all be fine.” She used her foot to flush,” Come on, y’all, I think we should call it a night.”

As the girls walked out the restaurant. Tyler spotted the guy, she wasted a drink on at the bar. “Hey,go ahead, I’ll be right there.” She walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around with a confused look on his face.

“Hi, I’m Tyler.” She stretched her hand out

He looked her up and down before taking her hand in his. “Terry.”

“Nice to meet you, Terry. Hey, look. I wanted to apologize about this. I’m sorry.” She motioned to his shirt. “What are you drinking? I can buy you another drink, you know to make up for spilling your wine.”

He tip the almost empty glass toward her “Whiskey.”

Tyler turned her nose up. “Ew, but okay.”

“You judging my drink choice?

She titled her head, “ I am, whiskey is plain nasty.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“For people with rotten taste buds,”

He laughed out loud. “Rotten taste buds, really?”

“Excuse me.” She got the bartender’s attention “Hi……” she began rattling off his drink order. Terry took that time to take her in while sipping on his drink some more. She was beautiful, the orange dress complimented her dark skin. The dress clinging to her curves wasn’t bad sight either.

“I hope that you’re impressed by what you see, you’re staring pretty hard.” Terry met her eyes, noticing the teasing glint. Terry lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, I am.”

She bit back a smile. “Well I’m glad. Here’s your drink. Again, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy.” She patted his back before walking towards the double doors leading to the busy New Orleans Street. Terry tossed his drink back, throw a tip on the counter before coming up behind her.

“Hey, Tyler. Wait up.” He grabbed her wrist.

She jumped at feeling a hand on her, he apologize for scaring her. “What, two drinks not enough?” She smiled sheepishly

“Ha. Funny.” She laughed then looked at him expectantly. He sighed “You in New Orleans long?” She searched his face, deciding on whether or not she should share that information.

Oh, what the hell! It isn’t like she was going to see him again.

“I’ll be in town for a little while. I’m here for my friend’s wedding, why?”

“You think she’d mind, if you broke away from the group.”

“Why would I do that?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Uh…” Tyler picked up on his nervousness and could tell that he wasn’t used to putting himself out there, she decided to help him out.

“Look, give me your phone.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handed it to her.

She put her clutch under her arm and typed something before holding the phone up to her face to take a selfie. She showed him the picture and he chuckled. “Text me when you wake up and we can meet back her for breakfast. Sound good?.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She smiled “Okay, well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow” she winked at him “Goodnight Terry.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

He watched her walk into the crowd before looking down her contact photo. He tapped his phone against his palm. Yeah, he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

[slutsareteacherstoo]

“For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.” - AND IS!!! I like this sentence sksk

No like she knows her Patrice!!!! Thats a mother!!!!! NO DRAMA😤🙅🏿‍♀️ love Treece’s main character moment i lowkey forgot Terry was in the background 🤣

Drunk in Love is now playing in my mental background with that Uncle Nearest in his veins. Like yall bout to get it 🤭🤭🤭

Everyday since New Orleans?!? 😳😭 Terry said i wont make that mistake again 🤣

Oh yeah i love you how sprinkling this in here. Like she dont even know 🤣

SHE GOT HIS NAME TATTED?!?!?! 😳😱 she love her some Terrence fr

Not this Dr. Richmond but yeah he got a praise kink bad

Imani’s reentry🤣 like OH i didnt know yall got down like THATT and continuing this throughline like yess 😩 CLOCK IT!!! WEAVE IT!!!!

And oh baby, idk about all that wine drinking but you enjoy all the pasta your heart desires 😏🙂‍↕️

The sensual and comedy again 👩🏿‍🍳💋🤌🏿 like ugh. This my fav show!!! I really really enjoyed this!!! Thank you for writing 🥰

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[livingfiction]

Double post! Oooh he looked so good here!!!

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Break A Sweat.

Summary: Terry ‘TJ’ Richmond was recommended to you by your brother who is a Marine. He’s now your personal trainer and Krav Maga teacher.

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, nasty talk, rough sex, 18+ content.

This is going to be a two part series. ENJOY!

Terry is a no-nonsense guy. When you’re in his gym, you follow his rules. After all, you’re the one that signed up for self defense one–on–one sessions. The rugged, burly ex-marine, wandering nomad. He’s overly domineering, striking green eyes staring you down unblinking whenever you did something he didn’t like.

“Your form is wrong…I thought we discussed this? Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart and your toes pointed slightly outward…”

“One more set. Let’s go. No days off. You want it? You gotta get it at all costs…”

“If you find yourself in a scary situation and need to defend yourself, you’ll be at a huge advantage if you know exactly how best to react to your opponent — whether or not your moves are fair.”

“You have to become the attacker and defender simultaneously…NOW STRIKE!”

Your older brother recommended Terry Richmond to you when you finally decided to crack down and focus on your overall health and well–being. Although you loved your generous curves, life and longevity were more important. It’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a bountiful beauty and work up a sweat.

Terry held your ankles as you finished your last rep. Your last set of ten. Sweat dripped from every inch of your dark skin. Every muscle was screaming at you. Angry. Your body was angry. You let out one final huff and sat up, slinging your arms over your knees. Terry patted your back.

“Halfway there.” He said, looking down at you as he stood above you.

his chiseled body with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. He was a mean looking man, like a first impression recruit in the military that’s both respected and feared. Whatever he got into during his days training was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

To add insult to injury, from the first session within his home gym, you regretted it. Terry didn’t care if it was your first time lifting a dumbbell or using the stair master, when you’re in his gym, you go hard. No ifs, ands, or buts. And that pissed you off. So irritatingly bad.

On a cloudy afternoon, you park your all black Lexus ES within his driveway. Killing the ignition, you relax into the soft leather of your seat, wary eyes glancing at the two car garage. One side of the garage was his home gym. The place you dreaded entering.

Terry’s home is an impressive single–family with a spectacular country setting with quick access to everything. You slowly open the car door, pink and green Hoka sneakers touching concrete. You push yourself up from your seat, large breasts touching your chin because of the sports bra you wore. The warm breeze caused the stray curls that had fallen from your high puff to graze the back of your neck.

Shutting the car door, you ease towards your trunk, skin tight athletic leggings almost giving you a wedgy. You adjust yourself before clicking the button for your trunk on your key fob. It popped open smoothly, revealing your Puma gym bag.

As you grab it, Terry Richmond situated himself within the doorframe of his home, bulging biceps folded over his defined pecs. You catch his eye and quickly avert your gaze because of its intensity.

“How you doin’ Y/N?” Terry greeted.

“I’m doing fine, Terry. Everything good?”

“Yeah. Good to see you still showed up. Thought I’d scared you off.” Terry said.

You glance up at Terry standing on his top steps with his hands on his hips. You do a quick sweep of his body, taking in the way the berry–red tank top he wore molded into his upper body and the thigh–hugging black shorts outlined his crotch and his ass. He had no decorum when it came down to his attire during your sessions and it was distracting to say the least.

“I don’t give up easily,” You respond, trying your hardest to appear confident.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Today you just might…”

He clapped his hands, drawing your attention to how large they are. Anticipation and excitement gnawed at your belly. He was going to touch you with those hands again. It was only the second time, but the sensation would feel like the first time all over again. 

“I’m still recovering from day one. My thighs are burning.” You admit with a nervous smile.

“That’s what comes with the discipline. Have you been stretching?”

Your lips remain sealed. Terry tilts his head at you and with a slight chuckle, he makes a slow descent towards you. The closer he gets, the more you recognize the way his skin appeared bronze from the sun. You focus on his face, his green eyes commanding attention.

“What did I tell you about that, huh? It’s important and unavoidable. You have to stretch frequently, otherwise you’ll end up with stiff joints.”

“I know. I’ll do better.”

“Will you?” Terry countered.

“Yes.”

“So, you know that adds an extra thirty minutes to your session today, right?”

You fight the urge to groan.

“No time to waste then. Let’s get to it.”

Terry leads the way towards his garage. It opens, revealing a well–equipped home gym. You both step inside, the garage door slowly closing behind you. Terry motioned for you to come over and sit your things down.

“How’s work coming along?” Terry asked.

You place your bag against the wall, crouching down to open it with a hiss from the pain in your thighs.

“It’s going. Been putting in overtime.” You replied.

“I’m sure you have a loaded schedule, being a mom and all.” Terry said, waiting patiently for you to finish. He stood with his hands folded over his crotch.

“You learn to adjust, no choice anyway,” You stand, fitting your weight lifting gloves over your fingers, “Can’t complain though, I love my baby girl.”

“What’s her name again?”

“Aria.”

“Pretty. How old is she?”

“She’s four.”

“Wow. I bet she gives you a run for your money,” Terry chuckled.

“Oh yeah. All the time,” You laugh, “So, what now, Mr. Richmond?”

Terry smirked at you, “Stretching. Go ‘head and kick off your shoes. We’ll hit the mat for about thirty minutes before we jump into our basic moves.”

Terry walked away, giving you time to kick your sneakers off. He turns on some music and makes his way over to the thick floor mats situated in front of wall–length mirrors. You join him, stopping in front of him.

“Okay, down on your back.”

You settle on your butt and then relax back until your head touched the mat. Once again, you can’t avoid Terry’s body above you. He lowered to his knees at your feet.

“We’ll start with the hold–relax technique.”

Without warning, Terry straddles your left thigh and instructed for you to elevate your right leg with your foot in the air. Your eyes blinked slowly while staring up at the ceiling, but your body reacted to Terry’s hand on your knee and the other on the heel of your sock–covered foot. Your body hummed with desire. Something you couldn’t control. And if you so much as lift your left knee, you would brush across his crotch. The little voice in the back of your mind told you to do it and see how he’d react, but you ultimately restrained yourself from being too bold. This was a passive pre–stretch, held at a point of mild discomfort for about ten seconds.

“Ready on three. One…two…three—”

You count down ten seconds in your head, still keeping your eyes glued to the ceiling of the garage.

“Good, good,” Terry tapped your knee with his hand, “Think you can go again before we do the next part?”

“Uh–huh,” You replied with a weak laugh.

You brace yourself, palms flat against the mat. Terry does it again and you count down, the aching muscles in your thighs struggling to hold on.

“Well done. Nearly there,” Terry shifted his hips over your left leg, drawing in closer, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snapped down to meet his. You wish you hadn’t. He looked good from that angle. The thin, gold rope chain around his neck dangling in your face. His hazel–green eyes blinking at you, that lush mouth with pink lips and a pink tongue looking inviting—

“Ouch!”

Terry applied a hip flexion force. You squeeze your eyes shut and roll your lips inward tightly.

“Hold and don’t let me move the leg.” Terry ordered.

You hold and resist the movement so that isometric muscle action occurs. After six seconds, Terry allowed you to relax. He slowly lowered your leg and you couldn’t control the tremors, thigh meat jiggling involuntarily. He repeats the same stretch to your left.

“Still with me? That was light work,” Terry chuckled at your death glare, “Hate me now?”

“Very close to hating you,” You giggle but quickly stop because of the pain, “Is the thirty minutes up already?”

“Not even close,” up on his knee, Terry placed his right hip between your legs and his hands around the knee of the target leg, “Let’s do some inner thigh stretching. I’ll start with this leg first…”

Both legs bent comfortably with your feet on the mat, Terry pressed your right leg outward against the resistance and only goes so far as you can resist the movement. You exhale rapidly, the pain so severe that you’re unable to take even, slow breaths.

“You gotta relax for me, Y/N—”

“I can’t do this—”

Terry cuts you off, “Stop saying what you CAN’T DO. Trust me, your body is more than capable. RELAX. Ten more seconds…”

Bastard.

“Three, two, one, okay…”

You sigh, leg quivering. Startled, your right leg jerked from Terry caressing your inner thigh. You lock eyes with him, face growing hot with arousal. He may not have been aware of how this was turning you on, but the throb of your clit told you so.

“One more on this side and then we’ll do the left.”

You roll your eyes, “Terry, this is hard…”

“Bet you’ll stretch more now.”

You bite your tongue. Terry gave you another minute and then he was stretching the right leg again. Shaky breaths escaped your mouth. Terry gently placed your right leg down after thirty seconds and turned towards your left. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, staring at the mirrors. Your eyes admire the thin material of his shorts spread over his ass. It was enough to distract you from the pain. Just a little. Every major and minor muscle in his body was defined. You were in the presence of an Adonis.

“Are you still with me?”

You blink away from the mirror and nod your head with a smile.

“Okay. One more…”

After the final stretch, Terry allowed you to stand and take a break. He offered you some water and you drink a generous amount. Terry did the same, pacing back and forth with his eyes on you.

He recapped his water, “We’ll do upper body next.”

“Do I have a choice?”

Terry tucked his chin and looked at you with a sly smirk, “I think you know the answer to that question.”

After a few minutes you were on your back again. Terry dropped to his knees above your head and motioned for you to raise your arms. He instructed for you to interlace your hands and keep your legs bent comfortably. Terry leaned over your head and brought your arms upward toward him. Your eyes look up and you’re staring directly between his legs and at his crotch…

“We’ll hold until you can’t anymore. Ten reps…”

“Okay…”

Terry stares down into your eyes. You look back, aware that your cleavage is touching your chin. He blinks away and down the length of your body before bringing your arms down. The closer he gets, the more you can smell almondy tonka bean and citrus wafting from the space between his legs and it caused the hairs on your arms to stand up.

You raise your hands a little too quickly and you almost hit him in the face. Terry’s head swiveled out of the way and he laughed, although you felt embarrassed. It was his fault, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay. That’s why I lead and you follow.” He spoke evenly with a half smile, “Don’t get too carried away now…”

Your dick smells nice and I want to bury my face between your legs.

“Breathe, almost done, okay?”

“How many reps do I have left, I sort of checked out.”

Terry chuckles, “Three more, Y/N.”

——

Days stretched into weeks.

In neutral stance, she waits for further instructions.

When Y/N exercises, Terry watches her shine like a freshly washed car in the morning light. He moves forward once she’s still, fighting the urge to run his fingers down her arms just like the mirror in his bathroom after a hot shower, always slick with condensation.

The closer he gets, the more he could smell her sweat, a mixture of musk and the deodorant she wore. He grew accustomed to her scent from heavy exertion, craved it the more he’d spent time with her. Terry stopped, staring down at her with domineering eyes. She looked adorable with her serious eyes and look of determination. Her legs are shoulder-width apart and her arms hung by her sides. This position replicates how you would stand when you are unaware of an attack.

Terry circled her body, stopping directly behind her. He didn’t warn her when his large body pressed against her back and his arms pulled her into a bear hug from behind. He pinned her arms to her body, Y/N automatically fighting to break free. Her movements almost knocked both of them off balance, but she was still unable to defend herself from Terry’s tight grip.

“What did I teach you, huh?” Terry spoke between breaths, “drop your weight…drop your weight, Y/N.”

Her ass continued to collide with Terry’s groin. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from grunting. All that plushness within his embrace is exactly what he loved. His type of woman.

Keep it professional.

She dropped her weight with a fast squat. In a wide stance, Y/N shifted her hips sideways to strike his groin with her palm. Y/N lunged forward and elbowed Terry’s stomach before escaping. None of her blows were damaging, but it was enough to free her. Terry watched as Y/N cheered, throwing her arms up and hopping up and down. She was wearing an athletic halter top in hot pink with matching shorts. Her curly fro was frizzy from sweating, some strands falling into her eyes.

Terry couldn’t ignore the bounce of her breasts and the pretty smile on her round face.

“Finally! It took me forever to get that one!” Y/N spoke excitedly.

“You did good. With more practice, you’ll be able to fight me off in no time.” Terry replied.

He gave Y/N two thumbs up before giving her a high–five with both hands. Y/N bent over and braced herself on her knees, trying to steady her breath. Terry grabbed a towel and wiped sweat from his face. Y/N’s pendulous breasts teased his eyes again. The sheen on her cleavage from her sweat made his mouth water.

“What next?”

Terry sat the towel down and pulled his gaze away from her titties just in time for Y/N to look up at him.

“Look at you, so eager,” Terry arched a brow at her, “Where did this energy come from, hm?”

“I’m already on ten, I need an outlet.” Y/N admitted.

“Mind if I ask why?”

Y/N took a seat on a bench. Terry watched her face as stress lines appeared.

“Aria’s father. Just co–parenting issues.” She revealed.

Terry nodded his head in understanding. He didn’t press her to dig deeper, so he gave her some space to calm down before they continued. He’d wondered about Aria’s father and whether or not he and Y/N were still together.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I am,” Y/N stood, “Let’s finish this.”

They fell back into training some basic Krav Maga moves. Terry grabbed a kick shield so that Y/N could practice kicks. She was getting better since incorporating more mobility stretching.

“There you go! Get that leg up higher!”

“Umph,” Y/N struck the bag with her left foot.

“That was weak,” Terry pushed back, causing Y/N to lose her footing, “what type of kick…”

“Really?” Y/N threw her leg up and with all her strength she hit the shield, “How was that?!”

Terry rocked back on his heels. He looked at Y/N with an unblinking stare as sweat rolled down her face. She tried catching her breath, chest rising and falling faster than usual.

“BETTER,” Terry taunted her by shoving her with the kick shield to provoke her, “But not IMPRESSIVE.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Terry. Her angry face was so freaking cute. Anything she did was cute to him. Just adorable and fun-sized.

“When will you give me my props, Terry? I’ve been going hard for nearly a month!” Y/N argued.

“When you stop doubting yourself and seeking validation with every little step then maybe I’ll ease up.” Terry fired back.

“You’re insufferable!” Y/N charged him, throwing messy jabs and kicks while Terry held up the shield, “YOU. MAKE. ME. SICK.”

“I make you WHAT?” Terry said, towering over her.

Y/N planted her foot so hard into the shield that she rocked Terry’s equilibrium. He dropped the bag at the same time as Y/N went to kick again, not realizing he’d done so. Terry grabbed her ankle with a vice grip. Y/N hopped on one foot, breath hitching and eyes wide like she’d been spooked.

“Pay attention.”

Terry let go of her ankle and Y/N stood there with shock.

“That kick is what I needed from you. That’s how you do it.” Terry said.

Y/N wiped sweat from her chin and gave Terry a small smile. He returned the smile, one hand reaching out to give her shoulder a squeeze.

“I push you because I see the best in you and I know you can do it,” Terry counted off on his fingers, “Vigilance, empowerment, good instincts, freedom. You gain all those things. It’s important that you take this seriously and you take my training seriously.”

“I understand.” Y/N responded with a sigh.

“But?” Terry bowed his head to stare down at her.

Y/N fidgeted with her short, acrylic french tips. Terry waited for her to find the words to say whatever was on her mind. His fingers itched to tilt her chin up and look him in the eye. When she finally stared up at him through her lashes, Terry held her gaze.

“I want to impress you. I seek validation because I want to make you proud, Terry.” Y/N admitted with a small voice.

Her thoughtful words warmed his heart and his eyes. His gaze softened as he watched her pretty brown eyes drop to his chest then down to her hands again. Terry’s hands grasp her shoulders. He leaned in and tilted his head to meet her gaze.

“I am proud of you, Y/N. You’ve impressed me with how easily you learn and grow. I just want you to embrace the challenges with a confidence boost.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied with a bashful laugh, “I’m sorry I kirked out on you.”

“No need to apologize,” Terry straightened his back, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

Y/N parted her lips to speak but no words came out.

——

You pull up to your brother’s rancher, parking behind his pick–up truck. The sound of children playing filtered from behind the home, carrying you there and past the iron gate. You catch a glimpse of your daughter and her multi–colored braids swaying as she ran to kick a soccer ball. Her cousin who’s slightly older than her, Madison, ran behind her with a big smile and pig tails falling into her eyes.

You stop to watch with a smirk as your daughter kicks the ball, missing the goal as it rolled in the grass. Madison took the lead and sped past Aria, aiming for the opposite goal. Aria started having a temper tantrum, stomping her little feet and scrunching her face. Madison kicked the soccer ball into the goal and it collided with the net.

“I did it! I did it!” Madison cheered.

Aria glowered at her older cousin. You make your way over to her, Aria noticing you and her frown turned into a big, toothy grin. She ran the rest of the way towards you, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck. You squeeze her, pressing your nose into her hair that smelled of argan oil.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

“Hi my baby,” you kiss her temple, “How’s my little princess?”

“Good,” Aria kissed your cheek, “We painted in school today! I have a picture for you!”

“Ahhh! Really?! Oh my goodness. I bet it’s a masterpiece.” You spoke excitedly with bright eyes.

“It can go on the fridge next to the flowers I colored.” Aria babbled as she formed words.

You grab Aria’s hand, “It can. We have plenty of room.”

Madison walks over with her soccer ball in hand and you pull her into a hug before kissing the top of her hair.

“How’s my niece? Did you win your game today?”

“Yes! You should have seen me out there!”

Madison showed you a move that won them the game.

“I already knew you were gonna win!” You replied boisterously.

The sound of a glass door sliding open caught your ear. Out walked your older brother; James. He wore a pair of faded dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt. The glasses over his eyes made him look articulate. He’d shaved his head completely bald since his hairline started receding, but it suited him. James could pull off any hairstyle.

“Hey, hey!”

“ ‘Sup sis?”

James gives you a one arm hug and a kiss to your hairline.

“Thanks for picking up Aria. My session ran a little late today.”

“All good. You know I got you.”

You follow your brother into the house. Aria ran off to grab her things and Madison followed behind. You open the fridge and grab yourself some homemade iced tea. James was in the middle of thawing out some steaks for dinner. You glance at the family photos on his fridge before walking away.

“Where’s Jr?” You question.

“In that room playing the game.”

“Tonya’s at work today?”

James nods his head while reaching inside of his pantry for some potatoes, “She’s been working longer shifts at the hospital lately. She finally got a weekend off. Been planning it for Madison’s birthday for months now. I have everything taken care of so she can ease her mind.”

“That’s good to hear. You know I’m here to help if you need me, bro,” You take a sip of your tea, “I’m still making my potato salad and seafood salad.”

“Damn right you are! shid, before momma passed she put you in charge of that!” James replied with a laugh following.

“Like you can’t do it.”

“I’m on grill duty! You want my famous ribs don’t you?!”

“Shut up,” You sit your cup down on the kitchen island and stretch your arms above your head, wincing in pain, “I can’t wait to go home and take a hot bath in epsom salt.”

“Terry been workin’ you hard, huh?”

“Too hard. Treating me like I’m one of his cadets.” You complain.

“Stop it, Aria! It’s mine!”

“Hey! What I tell ya’ll about that bickering? Pipe it down!” James chastised.

“Aria! Behave!” You say, “These little girls…”

“Terry knows his shit, baby sis. He’ll get you right in no time.” James replied.

“I know he does.”

James started peeling potatoes.

“I see a change in you for sure.”

“I feel it too…feel like I’m getting back to myself.” You reveal.

Aria came dashing out from Madison’s room with her back pack and tablet in one hand. You check to make sure she had everything before saying farewell to your brother and niece.

“Drive safely, sis. Love you Ari,” James gives Aria and you a goodbye hug, “I’ll see ya’ll this Saturday. Shoot me a text when you make it in.”

“Will do! Love ya’ll.”

You hug Madison and make your way outside, locking the door behind you.

——

Terry handed you a jump rope and you gave him a bizzare look. His serious face with steadfast eyes was enough for you to take the rope from his hand. He watched you turn your back towards him and toss the rope over your head while holding both sides.

“Forty–five seconds.” Terry set a timer, “Go.”

He was soaked with sweat from his earlier workout. He figured he’d take a shower after his session with you. The front of his olive green tank top held a large stain of sweat. His face glistened beneath the lights and the tattoos on his arms popped from the perspiration leaking from his pours.

Terry watched you jump, short, plump legs pushing off of the gym mat. You wore a teal blue workout set. A skort with a matching bralette. The bralette had a keyhole style in the front, giving a peek of cleavage. Your feet in white sneakers tripped over the rope causing you to stumble. Terry paused the timer.

“I suck at jump rope, Terry.” She admitted with a tired exhale.

“You were doing well. Give me a full forty–five seconds and I’ll let you rest.”

You perked up at the mention of rest, big brown eyes that reminded him of hot cocoa on a winter night twinkling.

“Still gotta do glutes and hamstrings, Y/N.”

The brightness of your gaze dimmed.

“Let’s go.” Terry commanded.

You take a deep breath before positioning yourself again. Terry set the timer and you went back to jumping, face scrunched in discomfort and sweat flickering from your body with each move. Terry licked his lips as he paced, taking his arms and folding them over his sturdy chest. You catch his eye in the mirror for a second before squeezing them shut from the intense burn.

“Terry—”

“Ten more seconds. Hold on.” Terry reassured.

His deep voice and the sternness of it motivated you. The timer beeped and you stopped, tossing the jump rope to the floor and resting your hands on your hips while you attempt to calm your racing heart and uneven breaths.

“GOOD JOB.” Terry encouraged with a thunderous clap of his hands.

You nod your head. Terry walked up towards you and placed a hand on your back, rubbing it. He could feel the tension in your muscles loosening beneath his callused hands. Terry took that moment to embrace the sensation of your skin. Silky smooth. Blemish free. Soft. His eyes did a quick sweep of the tattoo teasing him on your lower back. It looked like a butterfly.

“Rest time…”

Terry dropped his hand. He hadn’t realized he was rubbing your back the entire time. Lost in the sensation of your delicate skin.

You settle on a bench and grab your water jug. Terry turned the music down and joined you with his own water. You both sat in silence for a moment until Terry turned his body at an angle to get a better look at you. Your curly hair had that freshly fucked look to it. Wild coils tightly wound from shrinkage. He could smell the shea butter. You glance up at him bashfully before your eyes focused on the bottle in your hand.

He made you nervous. More so during moments like this. When everything was still. He wanted to pick your brain, learn more about you.

“Any plans this weekend?”

She looked at him again, “Saturday. My niece has a birthday party.”

“Ah, James told me about that.” Terry revealed with a smirk.

“…you’re coming?”

Terry caught the thrill in her question. She wanted him there. He scratched the side of his face with his thumb to fight the urge to smile at that revelation.

“I planned to,” Terry licked his lips, “Support a friend and eat some good food, ya know?”

She laughed, “That’s sweet of you,” she nudged him with her elbow, “I’m making potato and seafood salad. The best in town.”

“Seafood salad is a favorite of mine. I gotta see that for myself.” Terry replied with playful banter.

She picked up a towel to dab sweat away from her face and chest. Terry’s eyes did a slow descent to her chest, his mouth watering and tongue aching to taste. He looked away and shut his eyes for a moment.

“I can’t wait to make you eat your words, Terry Richmond.”

“Not the whole government.” Terry chuckled.

“Because I don’t play about my seafood salad. When I say it’s the best, I mean it!”

You swatted his arm with your towel. Terry caught it with his hand and with a slight tug he pulled you closer. You gasp, the sound shooting straight to his semi–hard dick. Terry brought his face closer to yours, eyes locked on to your dilated pupils.

“Aht, aht…play nice. Save that energy for sparring, baby girl.”

He released the towel and it dropped to the floor. You quickly avert your gaze before bending over to grab it. At that moment, Terry’s hazel eyes studied that lower back tattoo. It was a butterfly indeed. Cute.

And is that…back dimples?

“Do we really have to lift today?”

The pout on your lip made him smile.

“YES. Better get on it now so we both can relax, right?”

You groan and take your time standing from the bench. Terry set up the squat rack while you drink a little bit more water. You make your way over and he instructs for you to get into position. Back facing him, he guided the safely squat bar over your shoulders.

“Alight, three sets of twenty.”

Still behind you, Terry counts as you squat. Your stance is perfect and so was that big ass poking out at him. Bending over like that made that ass bigger. Terry tried to focus on anything else, but no matter how many times he counted, you were distracting him. He looked down at the bulge beneath his grey shorts and how noticeable it is.

I’m in trouble, he thought.

“Last one.” Terry said.

You struggle to lift so Terry grabbed a hold of your waist to ease you back up. The moment your ass grazed his print you created space between you both. A look of embarrassment crossed your face and Terry was too stunned to speak.

“That was my fault—”

“No I was too close—”

“I was only trying to help—”

“I should have stepped away—”

Both of you pause. Neither of you could let the other speak first. Terry blinked slowly at you. You stared up at him with your lips parted. An unspoken glance at his crotch made it acutely aware of his stiffness. There was no denying it. Not when his dick sat fat and twisted to the side. It almost poked out the leg opening of his shorts.

“Uhm…”

Terry just stared at you.

“What’s happening right now?” She spoke.

Terry glanced sideways and then back into your eyes. At this point, might as well come out with it.

“No reason to skirt around the obvious…”

You fidget with your hands and shift your weight. Terry cocked his head and his gaze remained locked on you. Unyielding.

There goes your scent again. That musk. He was losing control. The silence was killing him. If you weren’t going to speak he sure was.

“Aight, Y/N. If you haven’t already guessed by now, I like you. A LOT.”

Terry cut to the quick.

You nod your head slowly. Unsure if what was happening was real.

“What happened,” Terry’s hands raised as he tried to explain himself, “I didn’t mean to…to get close…but I’ve wanted to…for weeks now. No sense in boiling it down to excuses.”

Terry got closer. You blink up at him like you were stuck in a trance.

“Can I get some feedback here?” Terry cracked a smile as he studied your face, “I don’t know what you’re feelin’.”

He could see that you were struggling to find the words to speak. Terry’s hands touched your arms and he stroked your tacky skin with his thumbs. A shaky exhale escaped your mouth. Pretty brown eyes filled with uncertainty met his gaze.

“I…I’m feeling the same…” She spoke softly.

“Do you?” Terry asked.

“I do. I just didn’t expect…”

Terry’s hands fell to his sides. You reach up and touch the spot where his hands once were.

“Didn’t expect me to be interested?”

“Yeah.”

Terry smirked, “Now, what would make you think that? Because you’re beyond beautiful.”

Your mouth dropped open.

“I’m James’ sister.” Y/N replied with a small voice.

Terry furrowed his brows.

“Uh…what that mean, Y/N?”

“It means I’m off limits! Right?”

“Who the fuck made that rule?” Terry replied with a slight curl of his upper lip.

“Nobody—”

“Y/N, you feel the same, right?”

“Yes,” her eyes flickered with confusion.

“So fuck it.” Terry spoke confidently with a slight hint of mischief.

You laugh nervously.

“For real.” Terry said.

——

What had just occurred?

You stand before your trainer, eyes wide and mouth open. Your fine ass trainer just admitted to having feelings for you and all you could do is stand there like a deer in headlights?

His dick is hard because of you. His beautiful eyes admired you with romantic intensity. He didn’t care what your brother thought. He wanted you. Something straight out of a book. This was a chance encounter with a man that checked off all your boxes, even though he worked your last nerve in the gym.

“For real.” He said.

This was a grown man talking. Apparently he’d been silent long enough. It took for your ass to tap his dick for the truth to emerge. Funny how that happens. Your stomach fluttered with excitement. Terry titled your head up to look at him. Your eyes danced between each other. He stroked your chin with his thumb.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you replied, “so are you—I mean—what I was trying to say—what I meant to say was—”

Terry chuckled, “Y/N, shut up.”

“Huh? Excuse me—”

His thick lips graced yours. He shut you up alright. Stunned, you rock back on unsteady feet. Terry’s hands circle your plush waist and he took control, walking you backwards towards the mirrored wall. Your back against it, immediately his tongue slipped into your mouth and you mold your hands against his chest, falling onto the kiss with your own tongue.

You could taste his sweat. His tongue glided over yours like a wet tentacle. It made your breath hitch and your fingernails drag down his chest. The hands on your hips planted against the mirror, trapping you while he devoured your mouth with his skillful tongue and pliant lips. Sandalwood, tarragon, and spearmint. That’s what you could smell. Woody, earthy, and with an animalistic undertone.

His tongue swiped your lower lip with a hungry growl and his large hands cupped your round face to keep you in place. He guided your movements how he wanted, your fingers trembling as they smoothed over his shoulders and down to his hips. Broad upper body gracefully narrowing down to a tapered waist much like the letter ‘V’. The coveted shape that symbolized the pinnacle of physical attractiveness. You’d never seen him shirtless, and you desperately needed to.

Lips puffy from kissing, Terry gave you a moment to breathe properly while his mouth explored your neck. He pressed kisses against your sweaty skin and the tip of his tongue stroked upward until he was latching onto your earlobe decorated with a diamond Tiffany stud. Terry’s hands were everywhere. He kneaded your curves desperately, palming your ass and hips. He did it so forcefully that you were almost lifted from the floor.

“I…need…you…” he spoke with a hushed tone.

Your breath hitches, “Take me…” you replied barely above a whisper.

Terry unlatched his head from the crease of your neck to lock eyes with you. His eyes were low and sleepy–like. As if he were intoxicated from you.

“Take you? Oh…don’t say that if you ain’t ready. I’ll take that ass to the moon. Have you seeing the fuckin’ galaxy.”

“Terry…”

His brows snapped together and his tongue sat in the corner of his mouth. He hooked his fingers beneath the straps to your bralette and with a tug he made your breasts bounce. Repeatedly.

“Big ass titties…fat titties…just how I like it…”

You couldn’t believe how he was talking to you. Terry let go of your straps and they snapped in place with a slight sting. He cupped your breasts from the sides and mushed them up. You watch with a weak gaze as he fondled like he was kneading dough.

“I want my…”

He paused.

“Your what, Terry?”

“Intrusive thoughts…you just make me weak, girl…”

This big, strong man?

“Tell me…”

Terry looked at you.

“I want my dick sandwiched between these.”

You knew that’s what he was going to say but you wanted to hear him say it. And you loved the way he said it so desperately. Like he was begging you.

“Can I see you?”

He bent down and pecked your cleavage through the keyhole of your bralette. You moan from the tickle of his lips. Glancing down you couldn’t believe your eyes. Terry was past the point of hard. You didn’t know what to categorize his dick at that moment. That long dick pitched a tent in his shorts. You’d never seen it like that before.

“Yes, yes,” you touch his tip with your fingers, “Terry, oh my god…”

Terry fit his long fingers beneath your bralette and with a hard tug he released your hanging breasts. They bounced free and Terry didn’t waste time grabbing both and pointing your hard nipples straight at his mouth. You couldn’t look away if you tried. He suckled your breasts and looked you in the eyes. Large body hunched forward to feast.

“Oh my gosh,” you had no choice but to look at him, “Terry, please don’t stop.”

This can’t be happening right now. He’s sucking and licking your nipples. Terry pressed his face between and his tongue wiggled while he used your breasts like earmuffs. You whimpered, overwhelmed with how much he enjoyed your breasts. His tongue licked all over your areolas, cleaning the sweat from your skin.

“FUCK.”

Terry resurfaced and twirled your nipples. He sought out your lips again while he tugged and pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers.

“You gon’ make me unleash this beast and fuck the shit outta you girl.”

He was talking his shit. You didn’t have the capacity to do so at the moment. He was thumbing your nipples and it made your clit jump. Wet and tingly between your legs, you SO FUCKING NEEDED him to do that with your pussy but wait—

“C’mere…”

Terry turned you around abruptly and with a hand on your spine he pushed you forward. Your hands connected with the mirror and he locked eyes with your reflection.

“Move that ass up and down on this tip. Three sets of twenty.” Terry ordered, “COUNT.”

Hand in your hair, one on your waist, you start to move your hips up and down. Your ass brushed his tip and you could feel it poke your pussy lips from behind each time you went up.

“Six…seven…eight…”

“Feel that burn?”

“Yesss…eleven…twelve…”

“Get used to that…”

His hand on your waist reached around to squeeze your stomach.

“Keep going, I ain’t tell you to stop.”

“Nineteen…twenty…”

You were clenching around nothing. Pussy flutters out of control.

“Two more. If you keep it up I’ll stick my tongue in it just like this before I feed you this dick…”

His deep baritone sent chills throughout your body. You feel sweat dripping from every inch of your skin the more you moved with a slow motion. Your glutes burned and your thighs quaked. Terry released your hair and right before your eyes he lifted his shirt to rest under his chin.

Good GOD.

Thick ridges of muscle. Shining like he’d been oiled down. This man had eleven percent body fat. Disciplined. Sculpted. Holy SHIT.

“T–ten…eleven…”

“Good girl…not too much longer…”

He’s the epitome of sexy. Whatever control this man had he definitely didn’t give a damn now. With one more slow whine, Terry was on you like white on rice. He had a wet spot over his tip and his breaths came out uneven and rushed as he led you over to a pair of UFC pull up rings.

“Grab each one and bend over…”

“Terry, wait…”

You knew what he wanted but you were musty from working out. He popped you on the ass for moving too slow.

“NOW.” He spoke evenly and firmly.

You grab onto the rings and without warning Terry was tugging on your skort until it fell around your ankles. You stood there in a pair of panties and they were soaked with sweat and your arousal. Your frantic eyes sought out his. Terry gave you a smirk before using one hand to remove your panties. You step out of them and watch with shock as he admired the creamy essence on the crotch of your panties. Terry thumbed it and spread it over his fingers like he was inspecting it before sucking it off.

Those panties found a new home in his pocket. You watch stunned as he takes off his sweaty T-shirt and it joined your bottoms on the floor. Terry stood behind you with a bare chest and a gold chain. He used a single finger to trace down your back and between your ass cheeks. You nibble on your bottom lip to control the quivering.

“Bend that ass over for me, love.”

——

A wide ass and a back with rolls of delicious flesh.

Pendulums known as your breasts swaying from your postiton.

The way you looked back at him like you couldn’t find the words to describe how much you NEED his tongue in you.

And Terry was going to put his tongue so far up that fat pussy to the point of dislocating his jaw.

His tastebuds sizzled with gluttony to taste more. Creamy pussy with that twang that had him primal.

He got down on his knees behind your short frame and spread your cheeks. Two holes met his piercing eyes. Pink flesh with a creamy center beckoned him and without pause his tongue wiggled between hungrily.

“UNH!”

You hang your head and stand on your tip toes. Swaying forward, Terry followed your movements. When it got out of control, he’d pop your ass to keep you still.

“Fuck this shit,” He locked your thighs with his biceps.

He sucked and slurped so cruelly. Like he was punishing you for moving. Vanquished, you slump forward and from your blurry vision you could see a stream of spit drip to the floor. He was slobbering all over your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” your arms began to shake and burn, “I can’t hold it.”

Terry released your clit with a deep exhale that fanned your pussy with hot air, “Fuck my face.”

With a weak whimper, you pop your juicy pussy on his mouth. Terry’s wild tongue and thick lips had you experiencing an out of body sensation.

“Fuck, you’re eating the fuck outta my pussy!”

He got closer with one hand on the floor and he angled his head to eat it from a different direction. He was all up in your pussy and at this point you didn’t care if you weren’t showered he wanted it he could have it.

“You taste…exactly how…I pictured you would…”

He spoke between licks and sucks.

“Sweet and strong…the best thing next to my momma’s cooking…good pussy…”

You moan in response.

“So tasty…feed me…”

You fight back a groan and rock back on his fine ass face. Your back muscles burned deliciously. In the mirror you could see your ass moving like a tidal wave.

“Right there…oh, yes,” you moan.

“Mhm…mhmmmm…hmm…mhmm?” he hummed into your pussy.

There it was, sneaking up on you.

“I’m cummin’ I’M CUMMIN’!” You squeal with broken moans.

Terry sucked you up and you caught a slight cramp in your calf muscle from how drastically your body convulses. A total body vibration. He gave you soft kisses all over your pussy and that only increased the overstimulation. Terry finally came up for air and you locked eyes with him. His face was glossy and stained with cum. He helped you stand and with his hands he massaged your stiff shoulders and arms. You could smell the pungent pheromones on his lips. Leaning in, Terry caught your tongue between his lips and sucked. While kissing, you stroked his impressive length through his shorts.

“I ain’t scared you off yet, did I?” Terry asked.

“No.” You respond with a dazed look.

“You sure? Because,” Terry gripped your wrist firm and slipped it past the waist band of his shorts and compression briefs, “This what you gettin’.”

You were too late with masking your gasp. It just slipped past your lips. Your chubby fingers couldn’t form a complete ring around his girth.

“Still ain’t scared?”

Terry guided you to stroke him. The veins beneath the palm of your hand rendered you speechless. Big? No this was a behemoth. And you weren’t exaggerating about never having a dick this big. It was completely true.

“You can be honest with me.” Terry said with a grin.

“…definitely bigger than what I’m used to.”

“I think we can both agree you’ve proven that you can take whatever I dish out…”

Terry kept his eyes on you but the hand on yours in his shorts tightened. He wanted you to feel how stiff he is. Like he could withstand anything. All of this was for you. He was like this because of you.

“It’s time to take care of this.”

You drop to your knees and stare up at him. The visual before your eyes…

Shorts past his hips and resting around his thighs, you come face to face with a monster. The body matched the dick. You could pat yourself on the back for your skills but this was another hurdle to overcome. But, you had to remind yourself that you gave birth which is a challenge indeed, so sucking a big dick should be a breeze, right?

It’s a pretty dick. Darker in contrast to the rest of his body. Terry gave your hair a slight tug to focus you on the task. You hold that big motherfucker at the base and with hungry lips you wrap them around his tip and start sucking.

““Dasssit, suck that mothafucka,” Terry grabbed a fistful of tight coils, “I get to play with your mouth. Good. Eyes up here.”

You look up at him while sucking half and jerking the rest. Sunken in cheeks and a bob of your head was his visual. Terry extended his neck and started moving his hips to meet your mouth as you came down over him. He’s so thick in your mouth. You shut your eyes and suck and slurp, loud noises a reminder of how sloppy it’s supposed to be. Spit clung to your chin and made its way to your breasts in such a short time.

“Suck it like that,” Terry’s hips would jerk a little to pump into your mouth while his hand pet the back of your head, “Good girls like you get a dick in the mouth. You see this dick?” Terry pulled your mouth off of him by gripping your hair, “It’s your Daddy dick, right?”

“Y-yes,” You were horny, pussy soaked, reaching out to stroke him. 

“Cute ass. Stick your tongue out.”

You do as your told and Terry slapped his dick on it a few times before forcing more of him down your throat.

“Hold it. Just like that…been daydreaming of fillin’ these jaws with this dick…”

You gag and pinch your thumb to help control the urge to gag again. Terry wanted you messy and he did just that with the way his dick going in and out of your mouth produced more spit.

“Hands behind your back, mhm…big titty, pretty lady…”

His pubic hair tickled your nose and it smelled powdery and fresh despite the amount of sweat on his body. The taste of his pre-cum was enough for you to tongue his slit. Terry tilted his head down at you with a look akin to defeat.

“Uuuuuhhhhnnnnn, FFFFUCCCKIIIIN SLUT—”

You weren’t prepared for that brazen performance and the vulgar tone. Terry’s free hand made a fist that pumped the veins in his arm. You could see his balls jump with his release down your throat and it was magical. His cum tasted delicious and you savored every drop. After wiping away as much as you could, Terry helped you to your feet and thanked you with a sloppy kiss. He pressed his forehead against yours before his lips attacked your jaw.

——

You’re in his bedroom. A master bedroom with a king size bed, walk–in closet, a lounge area, and a large bathroom. Terry carried you all the way to his room with his tongue in your mouth and his hands cuffing your ass. He picked you up like you were feather weight.

Now, strong hands gripped your hips tightly. You can’t run from the pain and pleasure. Too much to handle at once. Nonsense spewing from your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut but the tears disobeyed you. You’ve never been this filled and fucked at the same time. He put you in position and fit that dig in despite your cries. The mantra of being stretched just fueled him. With the little strength you could muster, you try to ease off of his big dick but his hands smoothed up to your waist and with a shove your right cheek planted hard against the comforter.

“what I say ‘bout all that runnin’?” Terry barked out.

“I’m sorry!” You cry.

Without another word, he went back to fucking the shit out of you. while your spine is curling to shy away from him, his big hips clapped against your ass while you’re crawling closer easing closer to the headboard. Your trembling fingers fisted the sheets, trying your best to ease some of that pressure, that stretch, that split. His big hands smooth over the rippling flesh of your backside, squeezing on it like two handles, yanking you back where he wants you. The feeling of his tip hitting the bottom of your pussy caused hot tears to prick the corners of your eyes.

“Can’t run from me baby, remember? I train you to do. what. I. say…”

His thrusts were punctuated.

“When I tell you to do something you fuckin’ do it,” he murmurs, tongue deviously tracing his bottom lip because that pussy is his meal.

“Terrrryyyyyyyy….”

Terry allowed his hips to do all the work while he grabbed one of your ankles. Your pussy recoiled back onto raw dick. Your pathetic squeaks get shoved out of you with every plunge, riding through the burn as your pussy responded to the harsh treatment with a flood of more cream, wetting his entry just like he wants.

“That’s it, baby girl, cream like that, good girl,” Terry observes in awe, mouth dropping open and brows pinched together tightly, “Fffuck…mmm.”

You were making a creamy ring at the base of his dick, stringing in his dark pubic hair. So much slick and so much more pleasure. So intense it surged a heat so powerful all over your skin. Sweat poured from both of your bodies.

“Mmm, damn girl,” Terry hums, teeth marking the space past his lower lip as he bites down on it hard.

That clamp on your ass cheeks constricts and you know from his grip alone it’ll leave bruises, whimpering brokenly into the mattress.

“Ter–Terry…” You release an airy sigh of defeat.

“Tell me what you want, use that mouth of yours, you do any other time, right?!” He teases through a husky exhale, tipping his head back as he looks down at that pussy slurping him up making the nastiest sounds.

“I want to cum! Please–Please D–Daddy!”

You were so close. And you were afraid how intense it would be. The knot in your belly tightened and your body seized up out of your control.

“Cum on this dick!”

His deep voice through clenched teeth caused you to erupt liked you’d never done before. And Terry didn’t stop. He fucked you through your orgasm. And now, you were squirting.

“Open up, nah, wet this dick up.”

He continued to fuck you long dick style. Your titties smacked together from the force and once again another orgasm was on the horizon.

“Fuckin’ this pussy up just like you deserve.”

This man was plowing you.

“Ohmigooooddddddd—”

Clapclapclapclap

“OH!”

Terry’s hips slowed to a stop but that dick remained deep as he kissed along your spine.

“I’m so open,” you couldn’t believe it.

Terry eased himself out and the sensation made your back arch. He palmed a hefty, cellulite–filled cheek and jiggled it.

“Yeah, she open alright,” Terry admired his work while fisting his messy dick, “Time to climb on top though. I want that weight on my dick.”

Terry crawled onto the bed and you sat up on your knees, watching him settle on his back. Terry motioned for you to swing a thigh over and when you did he pointed his tip at you pussy and with both hands on your ass and his biceps curled beneath your knees, Terry entered you with an upward thrust.

“Look at me…”

You look down past your breasts and belly and the man beneath you smiled at you like he didn’t just fuck your brains out. What he did next shocked you. This man used you like a barbell and did arm curls over that dick. Two hundred plus pounds being handled on the dick.

And it was loud. Skin slapping bouncing off the walls while he bounced you in his lap. His arms circled your waist and it forced your breast to rest on his forehead. He fucked up into your pussy so good you could only pout your lip and give in. But he was talking. Terry was talking.

“Tell daddy where he’s at…you know I like it when you do that baby…uh-huh…all up in this pussy, huh? Been wanting me to fuck you? Now you get to feel this dick in your stomach…that’s it, my big girl…fuck back like a big girl…”

He had that ass gyrating. Your mouth unhinged and at the same time his balls clapped your ass you nutted on that dick again.

His stamina is out of this world. You were seeing shooting stars and the milky way behind your lids. Terry was drenched from head to toe and now he had you folded like origami with his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you locked in place and his toes digging into the mattress. Like a piston he fed your pussy more dick with his chain hanging over your face. Your feet were on his shoulders and your breasts sat up and out for him to suck on. He had a hand on your belly now and all you could do was watch him fuck you.

“You know this my puss, right?”

“It is!” You shout.

He withdrew his hips and put his lips on your pussy again.

“Terry SHIT!”

This man was too much. You could hardly see him past your big titties but he latched onto your clit and sucked. Your toes curled in opposite directions while your hands tangled in the sheets. Speaking of the sheets, they were soaked through.

He kissed your clit and sat up to look at you. You stare down at him before falling back against the pillow. Terry crawled up next to you and settled behind you. He lifted your leg and entered you from the side.

“This is probably the best session you’ve had so far, Y/N,” Terry thumbed your clit while staring down at you, “I’m not your average nigga. If you wanna keep fuckin’ on this dick you gotta keep up with me…”

You stare down between your legs at his big dick.

“Terry,” you lock eyes with him as best you could, “Terry, I’m your slut, I’m your fat pussy slut, this your wet pussy!”

He turned you out.

“That’s right, baby, know that shit!”

The amount of clapping your ass was doing could amplify a stadium. This Carolina boy had you dumbstruck. Terry reached around and cupped your fupa and put his leg up to dig deeper.

“Ohhh, ooooo, you finna’ have me paint your walls…you thick, pretty bitch…”

He cupped your chin, turned your head, and smashed his lips into yours. All while fucking you. Your sweat mingled and the smell of sex permeated the air. Him calling you a bitch had your walls gripping him up. Terry buried his face into your neck, one hand on your titty, the other on your stomach.

“I’m fuckin’ nutting in you DEEP—”

“Yes!” You cry out.

One thick leg in the air Terry gave you a finale that knocked the wind out of you. He pumped to the point of headboard banging and then hot, jizz filled you up to the brim. He would give you quick pumps while he was still buried deep. He released a huff when his dick slipped out. You push his cum out and Terry watched with lustful eyes while fingering your mixture of fluids.

“My kinda woman,” Terry smiled at you with his hand cupping your pussy.

You giggle, “Oh, Terry Richmond. You’re full of surprises.

“And you’re full of my cum.” Terry whispered.

[heauxvibez]

He Loves to Talk You Through It (Aaron Pierre)

Warning: Pure Smut, No Plot (18+)

"Right here, baby, in my eyes. Can you keep them open for me?"

Those eyes, damn, those fucking eyes. It was like you were completely lost, drowning in the deep, swirling mix of emerald and amber, colors that seemed to shift depending on his mood. You'd seen them change so many times—whether it was lust, when they darkened with anger, when his brows would furrow and his jaw clenched tight, barely containing what he was feeling inside; or even sadness, when they softened, filled with a heaviness he tried so hard to hide. Many emotions flickered through them, making it impossible to look away like he was holding back something that he was waiting to unleash.

"Don't hide from me, princess. I need you to keep them on me.."

His plump, plink lips glistened, freshly moistened by his tongue, which was still soaked with your juices. The way he licked them slowly, savoring every drop, made you feel like he could devour you entirely. That taste seemed to make him feral, he wanted to claim every inch of you.

"You look so beautiful when you're taking me like this.."

But it wasn’t just the taste of your essence that had you hooked. It was the sound of his voice, that smooth London accent, rolling effortlessly off his tongue when he spoke to you in the sweetest, most tender way. It almost felt like what you were really tasting was the sweetness of his words, more than your own juices. His words touched you in ways that had you craving more, not just of his body, but of the way he made you feel when he spoke.

"My sweet girl, so perfect for me.."

You could still taste yourself on his tongue, that sweet, lingering flavor covering you with the warmth of his breath as it brushed against your lips from the kiss he’d left you with just moments ago. His lips felt just as good as they looked—soft and pillowy. Your fingers found their way to his ears, lightly massaging them as you playfully sucked on his bottom lip, feeling the soft tug of his skin against your own. He responded by pulling at your top lip with just as much passion, his breath hitching before he pulled away slightly, catching your lips in another tender kiss that made your heart skip a beat.

"Mmm, so soft..so beautiful.."

When he finally pulled away, those pretty orbs scanned your face as if memorizing every detail, while his flushed lips parted slightly as if he was still savoring the taste of you. The small tugs you made on his ears made the corner of his lips turn up in a soft smile, something that made you blush. He leaned in again, the heat of his body pulling you closer, and you could see how much he loved this—how much he loved you.

"You feel so damn good, wrapping around me like the good girl you are. Taking me deeper, and deeper, and..fuck...deeper."

Your knees were wrapped snugly around his waist, pulling him closer as you felt his dick twitch inside you. His strong hands gripped your wrists, pinning them beside your head and holding you firmly in place. You could feel the weight of his body against yours, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, leaving you damn near breathless. The way your pussy gripped his dick made you feel completely at his mercy, every inch of him filling you as his hips twisted and rolled painfully slow. The thrusts were deep, drilling into you with as if he were mining for gold. Every time he hit that sweet spot, your breath got caught, his name just barely escaping your lips.

The way he had you pinned, the way he took control, your belly mimicked that same feeling you experienced when a rollercoaster made that big drop.

"I want you to focus on how it feels when I'm deep inside you. Uhn uhn, look at me—don’t look away. Let me see..."

His forehead pressed against yours, sweat dripping down from his brow as his body worked tirelessly to keep you lost in a blissful state of euphoria. His pretty caramel-colored skin glistened, catching the light in a way that made him look even more flawless than usual. Every bead of sweat traced down his features and the contours of his muscles. He was concentrated and confident, giving you every bit of his attention.

"Mhm, just like that. Makin' me fucking weak when you look at me with those pretty brown eyes.."

With his fresh haircut and sharp line-up, he looked as yummy as ever, and the scent of his cologne lingered in the air and made you want to swallow him whole. Honestly, having someone as fine as him fucking you felt like a dream, a wild fantasy brought to life.

Your chest was caving in with every deep breath, and you couldn’t help but wonder what this man was doing to you. It felt like your body was buzzing and you were doing your best to keep your eyes on his. The whines that escaped your lips were almost being sucked in by him, his own lips hovering close to yours, ready to catch every sound you made.

"Mmm, keep those whimpers coming. You're taking me in so good, so wet..just for me.."

You were sucking in his grunts just as eagerly as he was drinking in your noises. As deep as he was driving into you, your gushy walls were making his knees weak, stirring up nervous flutters in his belly. He masked it well, though, keeping that confident facade as he focused on you, completely lost in you. But you could see it in his eyes—the way he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

"There it is..I can feel you tightening around me. Talk to me darling, is it right here?"

Your pussy was getting wetter by the second, causing your grip on his hands to tighten. You were pinned against him with nowhere to escape. His hips were perfectly angled, grazing your G-spot with each thrust, making the hairs stand on your skin and your face twist with pleasure.

"Tell me that’s your spot; I need to hear you say it. Tell Daddy how deep he is.."

You didn’t have to say a word; the sounds your pussy made filled the air and spoke for you. The sounds that told him everything he needed to know. The way your fingers clutched his hands, the way your slick walls wrapped around him, all communicated the delicious torture he was putting you through.

As you struggled to speak, he was watching you closely, taking in every tiny change in your expression. He was digging into you like a shovel, watching your lips part in desperate gasps, trying to let out your whimpers. But now, those sounds were fading, as he fucked the voice out of you. He knew he had you completely under his spell.

"Breathe through it, love. You can take it,"

His eyes looked down, watching your walls pull around him, holding onto him tighter. He pulled out slowly, teasing you just enough before thrusting right back in,

"You can take every single inch of me,"

You could feel him deep inside, filling you completely, not one inch of you unfulfilled. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the way his body moved against yours.

“That's right, let it happen, princess. I'm right here, give it to me..”

He was so calm, his voice so steady as he stroked your index finger with his thumb while your hands were still in his grasp. He was coaxing you to surrender to him, completely let go and be vulnerable in his hold.

"Shit, that's my girl. Just give in to me baby, don't hold back. I want to feel every fucking drop.."

As you felt the orgasm creeping up, your body shuddered to every angle, every hit of your spot, he knew exactly what you needed.

“Look at that, ” he murmured, his eyes marveling and locked onto where your juices splashed onto his dick and thighs, glistening in the soft light. You were soaking him, drenching the sheets beneath you, and gasping for air like you were surfacing from deep water. You both shook and writhed beneath him, and he watched you with a look in his eyes that made your pussy grab at him again. A satisfied smile crept onto his face, full of not only pride but also arousal, as he saw you unraveling completely under him.

“See? You can take it all,” he said with a playful smirk, his lips still ghosting over yours as you attempted to catch your breath. You rolled your eyes and smiled lazily at his comment.

"And because I know you can take it all..I'm going to need one more from you, okay?"

--------------------------------------------

I would like to believe I proofread this a billion times, so hopefully there are little to no mistakes. Hope y’all enjoyed!!!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @saintmagx @venusesworld @mzv11

@tshepisho @cyberdejos2 @femdisa @dayaimonee @sayyestoheav3nn

[megamindsecretlair]

Oh this was so fn poetic???? I love how you started off each paragraph once they got to the nitty gritty.

Whewwwww. I need go hose myself down on this one 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Note: this masterpiece being on repeat made me like this 😵‍💫

HOUSTON'S BEST. | Aaron Pierre

Terry Richmond x Black! Female Stripper Reader.

Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( oral sex, (male receiving) penetrat!on (unprotected p in v, don't do that!), breath play, water sports, slapping/hitting, degradation), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread.

Summary: in which Terry meets an exotic dancer during his deployment and recounts their heated sexual relationship.

you used to strip out of east Atlanta,

probably where you learned all your talents.

He never knew her real name, or anything that was actually concrete to her, but he did know how his hazel eyes stayed trained on the exotic dancer in front of him the first time he saw her, the strobe lights made it a bit impossible to focus in on her face—as well as her many tricks and whirls around the pole. But her silhouette was perfect, and with a body as perfect as hers he was sure her face had to be a perfect match.

That wasn't his usual scene though, he'd been nearly forced there with his homeboys. Due to his recent breakup at the time, and a dreary deployment, his friends swore he needed a night of fun. And obviously their idea of a night of fun, was six deep in an east Atlanta strip club. He didn't usually spend his pastimes in Atlanta strip clubs, blowing his last dollars on a half-dressed woman, but if every stripper was enchanting as this one, he understood.

They introduced her as Houston, something he only understood when he found himself at her apartment. Only a few blocks away, from the club she worked at four nights a week, the other three days were supposedly spent in trade school where she was training to be a dental hygienist.

Not to mention, her face definitely did match her body.

Terry was unsure of how he made it to her quaint apartment the first time. He remembered how she sauntered over to the bar sometime after her set, she sported an oversized jogging suit, her low, brown eyes seemed to stare right through him, her smile was sinful. Everything about her screamed, trouble.

Anyway, even with a couple of shots flowing through him he was sober enough to hear the country edge to her voice—soft, elongated vowels, with that slight drawl that captivated him with each word. For a man who'd been deployed in and out of the states, he knew a Houston accent from anywhere, he'd spent four years there after all. That's where her stage name came from.

She'd never volunteered her real name, and always seemed hesitant when he asked about it. Obviously there was things she was keeping secret from this arrangement, and even three months deep into this said arrangement, she was still just Houston.

Terry never knew how they advanced to sex so quickly, the first time. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his system that night, maybe it was how naturally bold Houston was. Maybe it was because she kept casually sitting on his lap, complimenting him. Looking at him with those low, seductive eyes.

But it wasn't the first time anymore. Or the second. Or the third, and that was because Houston kept him coming back. She was a needed stress reliever. She knew what she was doing.

Houston knew exactly what she was doing though. And she was best at the shit too. The art of seduction through her dance—had nothing on her art of seduction in the bedroom. She would stare at him through her long lashes and low eyes, when she had him halfway back in the back of her throat. Coughing, gagging, eyes watery and red, but she still managed to hold that mockingly innocent gaze with him. Her hands nuzzled in the thin material of the strip lingerie she wore for him, vigorously rubbing away at her hard clit. Pleasing him, pleased her—and all that shit pleased him.

"Fuuuuckkk," he'd grunt, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as she fucked her own throat on his dick, almost like she was eager to taste all of him, her tongue swiping the underside of his dick as she eagerly took all of him. Her almost violent gagging and choking seemed to not deter her in the slightest, and it definitely hadn't deterred him either. Both his hands cradling the back of her head as he fucked himself into her throat, his own brows furrowed, lips parted as his grunts and groans seemed to follow one after another, eyes boring into hers. The feeling of the tightness of her throat, around him was unmatched. The way she did this shit like she had no regard for him was unmatched. Breathing clearly didn't matter to Houston. The hardwood flooring underneath them had collected a puddle of the saliva that seemed to pool out of her mouth and off of him, in the process.

"Fuckkk, imma nut! Imma nut, bae—jus' like that!" He rushed out, breathless and slurred. His hips stilling, but she never stopped taking him in, fucking her own throat once again, she looked up at him. His own eyes, slowly falling closed as she kept up her volatile movements.

"Mhm," she hummed on his dick, her blurred vision taking him in earnestly, her own fingers slipping inside her hole once again as she watched his facial expressions hungrily, as she brung him over the edge. The loud, groans queuing her to his orgasm, she pulled back from him with a loud pop. A growing smile on her lips as she stroked him off over her face, the warm ropes of cum painting her face just as she liked. What a messy girl she was, indeed.

She was the best at that shit.

But then again, she was the best at everything. She was definitely the best at doggystyle. Her face pressed into the cushioning of her sofa, his fingers squeezing and kneading the meaty flesh of her hips as she sat on her knees, ass perfectly arched up for him. Tip pressing against the spongy spot that caused the slight trembling in her thighs, and those deep gasping breaths to leave her mouth. Her hands flying up to the arm of the couch to gain leverage to slam back against him, her ass ricocheting off his pelvis with loud plaps. He'd run his thumb over the small butterfly tattoo etched into the skin right on the top of her ass.

"Don't run," he'd coach firmly, his voice stern hands growing tighter around her waist, his knees following hers, a harsh slap to her ass following his words, "don't fuckin' run. I can't get in that shit?" He'd ask over her whimpers.

"Yesssss," she'd slut out loudly, his stern voice and harsh slaps always put her back into motion, taking it like he knew she could.

"Right there, right there, right there!" She'd urgently call out, voice shaky and strained. "Right there, baby! I'm bout to cum, daddy!" Her whimpered voice muffled by Terry pushing her face down into the cushions, his focus solely on hitting against the spot, she repeatedly referred to.

"Where it's at?" He'd mutter, the lingerie of her little strip tease outfit now bunched around her waist, in his grasp as he used it as more leverage to thrust into her. "Where it's at, baby?" He'd ask again when he received no proper response from her, just her inaudible babbling and squealing moans.

"It's right there, daddy!"

"Give it to me then," he coolly replied hand roughly slapping at against her reddening brown skin, "give that shit to daddy, paint my dick. Lemme see it," he'd coax her orgasm right out of her, with her erratic breathing and faltering limbs.

Houston was also the best at missionary. And she didn't even have to do anything in this position, she just always looked so pretty and dazed. Mouth agape, eyes soft and low, darting back and forth between Terry's gaze, and his dick slipping in and out of her slick pussy. Her loud guttural moans would follow behind Terry's soft groans, his hands placed steadily on the back on her thighs, his knees allowing him to steadily drop dick in her. Her walls squeezing around him tighter and breathing hindering, every time he went just a little too deep.

She always looked too good in this position. His hands clamped tightly around her neck, he'd watch the color in her face tint to red. "You wanna breathe don't you? Yeah? Squirt on my dick then, show me how bad you wanna breathe. Show me that shit." He'd taunt, his dick roughly plowing into her, he'd watch with complete adoration as her eyes rolled back, her chest heaving, no sound leaving her lips but he strained breathing as he neared her orgasm. No sound would alert him, just her juices spurting out of her wildly, drenching her lower tummy and thighs, as well as his.

Or maybe she was the best at riding. Balancing her weight on the tips of her toes, her hands fisting the top of the couch on either side of him, strings of sticky arousal from her pussy connected the two, as she milked him up and down with loud sticky plaps. His thumbs and pointer fingers tweaking with her pierced, sensitive mounds. Pulling and pinching at her nipples as he muttered, lewd phrases and exploitative words against the flesh of her neck.

"You gon nut?" He'd ask her at the same time. Watching her nod eagerly over a series of moans. He'd slap against her cheek firmly, not quite satisfied with her non-verbal response. "You gon nut?" He'd ask again.

"Yesss!" She'd cry out, nodding vigorously, big brown eyes brimming with tears, the tightness in her belly threatening to burst open.

"Nah you ain't," he'd reply, eyes staring into hers so casually as if he wasn't having her plow herself onto his dick for his pleasure, "you been cummin' all night. It's my turn."

"Look at you fuckin' yourself on my dick," he tsk'd, his hand coming up once again to firmly slap against her cheek, "you ain't gon tell nobody about this right? Bout how you bein' such a lil easy bitch on my dick, makin' a mess. You ain't gon tell nobody?"

"No, daddy!" She'd stammer out through hindered breaths and broken moans. Her eyes slowly falling open as she continue to fuck herself on his dick, he was making her edge herself, and the shit felt torturous.

"Jus' like that, baby," he'd praise, hands dropping to knead both her ass cheeks as she rode him, "make me nut. Make me nut in this pussy." Hand leaving a series of hard echoing snacks there, until he came deep inside her.

Houston knew exactly what she was doing.

Hope you enjoyed, Houston! <3

tag list: @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @nickidub718 @keehendrixx @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @b2hotty @partypoison00 @grooveoftiro @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @dxddykenn @motheroffae @kaylaahisthebestest- @hello-therree

[yassbishimvintage]

Studio

Warnings: None. But a lot of fluffy fluff.

A/N: This will be my first series. I got a little carried away.

Word Count: 11.7k

Song Inspo: Studio ~ Schoolboy Q

Banner by: @cafekitsune

It was a warm day. Amari’s favorite client was back again. When he comes in he wraps her in a strong, warm hug.

“Thank you for squeezing me in, Mari,” Brendan says with a soft smile, settling into the chair in front of her. The small salon space feels more like a sanctuary than a workplace—intimate and warm, much like the woman standing behind him.

Amari rolls her eyes playfully, running her hands through his curls to assess the texture. “You say that like I don’t always make time for you,” she teases, her voice light but carrying an undertone that only he can pick up on.

Brendan leans back slightly, tilting his head just enough to catch her eyes in the mirror. “That’s 'cause you spoil me. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Amari chuckles, shaking her head as she grabs her spray bottle, misting his hair lightly. The cool water trickles down his scalp, and Brendan closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her touch.

“You’d survive,” she says, her tone softening. “You’d just look a mess while doing it.”

Her hands move deftly, sectioning off his hair and working with precision. Brendan sits quietly for a moment, his usual quips and charm giving way to the comfort of the moment. There’s something about sitting between her legs, the quiet intimacy of the space, that makes him feel more at ease than he has in weeks.

“You good?” she asks, noticing his uncharacteristic silence.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, opening his eyes to look at her reflection. “Just…this. It’s nice. Feels like home, you know?”

Amari pauses for a beat, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. She’s used to Brendan’s smooth-talking, the way he can charm his way through almost anything, but moments like this—when he’s just Brendan, not Mid-Sized Sedan—catch her off guard.

“Well, you know where to find me,” she says softly, her fingers returning to his hair. “Just don’t let that head of yours get too big. Fame or no fame, you’re still just Brendan to me.”

He grins at that, his dimples deepening as he tilts his head back to look up at her. “And you’re still the only one who can handle me, Mari.”

She shakes her head, fighting back a smile as she continues her work. For all his smooth words and playful antics, there’s a sincerity in his tone that she can’t ignore. And though she’d never say it out loud, moments like these—just the two of them, quiet and close—feel like home to her, too.

Brendan tilts his head back, looking up at Amari with a soft, almost boyish smile. His eyes catch hers in the mirror for a moment before shifting up to meet her gaze directly. “What?” he asks with a playful smirk, his voice low and teasing.

Amari pauses, her hands stilling in his hair as she tries to suppress a grin. “Nothing,” she says, but her voice gives her away. There’s a warmth in her tone, a quiet fondness she’s stopped trying to hide around him.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” he says, his smirk growing wider. “You’re lookin’ at me like you got something to say.”

She shakes her head, letting out a quiet laugh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his eyes still locked on hers. “But you like me anyway.”

Amari huffs, pretending to roll her eyes, but the way she leans closer gives her away. The tension in the air shifts, subtle but undeniable, as Brendan's smile softens. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say another word, just watches her with a quiet patience that feels more intimate than anything he’s said so far.

And then, before she can second-guess herself, Amari leans down and presses her lips to his.

It’s not planned or calculated—just a gentle, impulsive kiss, the kind born out of familiarity and unspoken connection. Brendan responds immediately, his hand instinctively reaching up to rest lightly on her leg, grounding himself in the moment.

When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a spark of nervousness in her eyes. “I—”

But Brendan doesn’t let her finish. “You know,” he interrupts with a grin, “if I knew sittin’ in this chair would get me kissed, I would’ve booked a weekly appointment.”

Amari laughs, swatting his shoulder lightly, her embarrassment fading as quickly as it came. “You’re such a fool,” she mutters, but her smile doesn’t falter.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice quieter now, his hand still resting on her leg. “But you’re the only one I’m a fool for.”

She looks at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his tone, and for a moment, the world outside the small salon fades away. It’s just them—Brendan and Amari, the way it’s always been, but with a little more honesty between them now.

Amari smirks, her fingers combing through Brendan’s curls as she preps his next section of hair. “Since you don’t pay me the traditional way anyway,” she quips, her tone playful but edged with a teasing accusation.

Brendan raises an eyebrow, his grin spreading wide. “Oh, so that’s how you’re feelin’ today, huh?”

She shrugs, her smile unbothered. “Just sayin’. Bartering services isn’t exactly standard salon practice.”

He chuckles, leaning back a little to look up at her. “First of all, my presence alone is priceless,” he teases, his dimples on full display. “But if you’re open to negotiations…”

Amari tilts her head, feigning curiosity. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Without missing a beat, Brendan grins mischievously. “I think sex is a great payment,” he says, his voice smooth, as if it’s the most logical suggestion in the world.

Amari freezes for a second, her lips parting in mock shock before she bursts into laughter. “Boy, you are too much,” she says, swatting his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“I’m serious,” he says, though his grin makes it clear he’s loving the reaction he’s getting out of her. “Think about it—completely mutual exchange of services. Everybody wins.”

Amari leans closer, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh, is that how you see it? So me busting my ass to make sure you’re camera-ready equals…” She trails off, giving him a pointed look.

Brendan doesn’t miss a beat. “Equals me bustin’ something else for you,” he says with a wink, leaning back in the chair like he just delivered the punchline of the century.

Amari stares at him for a moment, her mouth twitching as she fights to keep a straight face. “You are so stupid,” she says, finally breaking into laughter, the sound filling the small salon.

Brendan joins her, his laugh low and genuine. “You walked into that one, Mari,” he says, his voice softening as he watches her, the playful banter giving way to something warmer.

Amari shakes her head, still smiling as she resumes working on his hair. “You better be glad I like you,” she mutters.

“Oh, I know you do,” Brendan replies, his voice quieter now. “And just so you know...the offer stands.”

Amari doesn’t respond immediately, but the sly grin tugging at her lips says everything she doesn’t. Whatever this is between them—playful, complicated, and completely unconventional—it’s theirs.

“B,” Amari says firmly, her hands pausing in his hair as she looks down at him, her expression soft but serious. “We talked about this…”

Brendan’s grin falters just a bit, though the teasing spark in his eyes remains. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, leaning back against the chair with a dramatic sigh. “No mixing business with pleasure, right?”

She arches an eyebrow, her hands resuming their work, gently detangling his curls. “Exactly. And what you’re suggesting? That’s a straight-up recipe for disaster.”

He tilts his head slightly, watching her in the mirror. “But what if it wasn’t?”

Amari lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. “What does that even mean?”

Brendan shrugs, his tone casual but his gaze more serious now. “Just sayin’, Mari. You and me? We already get each other. Maybe it wouldn’t be a disaster. Maybe it’d be...something else.”

She exhales deeply, her fingers still moving but slower now. “B,” she starts, her voice softer this time. “You know I care about you. And yeah, we have fun, but crossing that line? It’s not as simple as you make it sound.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get it. I do,” he says, his voice quieter. “But I also know what this feels like. And it’s not just fun, Mari. At least not for me.”

Amari’s hands stop completely, and she meets his eyes in the mirror. For a moment, the air between them shifts, the usual lightness replaced by something heavier, more vulnerable.

“Brendan…” she starts, but he cuts her off, turning in the chair slightly to face her directly.

“I’m not tryna push you into anything,” he says, his tone earnest. “I just...I don’t want you to think this is a joke to me. You’re more than that, Mari.”

Her heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his voice, but she forces herself to keep her composure. “I know that,” she says softly. “And that’s exactly why we have to be careful.”

Brendan studies her for a moment, then nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright. I hear you.”

Amari breathes a quiet sigh of relief, her hands moving back to his hair. “Good,” she says, her tone lightening as she tries to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “Now let me finish before you start talking crazy again.”

Brendan chuckles, leaning back in the chair. “No promises,” he says, but there’s a warmth in his voice that tells her he means what he said.

For now, the line between them remains intact, but the unspoken understanding lingers in the space between her hands and his hair—fragile but undeniable.

As Amari finishes the last section of Brendan’s hair, she steps back and gives his curls a quick fluff, admiring her work. “There,” she says with a satisfied smile. “You’re all set. Looking camera-ready as always.”

Brendan spins slightly in the chair, glancing at himself in the mirror. “You’re a magician, Mari,” he says, grinning as he runs a hand through his hair. “How do you always make me look this good?”

“Natural talent,” she replies, smirking as she starts cleaning up her tools. “Plus, it’s not like I’m working with bad material.”

He leans back in the chair, watching her with a lazy smile. “You know what would make this even better?”

Amari doesn’t look up, but the amused quirk of her brow gives her away. “What’s that, B?”

“Dinner,” he says casually, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You, me, some good food…my treat this time. Let me say thanks properly.”

Amari pauses, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Dinner, huh?” she asks, her tone teasing. “And here I thought I’d already been paid in charm and bad jokes.”

Brendan chuckles, standing up and brushing off his jeans. “Consider it a bonus,” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, I’m starving, and you’ve been working all day. You deserve a break.”

Amari crosses her arms, giving him a skeptical look. “This isn’t one of your smooth attempts to turn dinner into something else, is it?”

He holds up his hands in mock innocence. “Scout’s honor. Just dinner. Unless…” He smirks, and she throws a towel at him, laughing.

“Alright, alright,” she says, shaking her head. “You win. But if this turns into you trying to pitch another ‘payment plan,’ I’m walking out.”

“Deal,” Brendan says, grabbing his jacket. “Now come on, Mari. Let’s go. I know a spot that’ll change your life.”

She rolls her eyes but grabs her bag, letting him lead the way. Despite her teasing, there’s a small smile on her lips she can’t quite hide. With Brendan, nothing’s ever simple, but somehow, it’s always worth it.

Brendan leads Amari down a quiet street, the glow of neon signs lighting their way. He’s relaxed, his hands stuffed casually into his jacket pockets, while Amari walks beside him, the crisp evening air brushing against her skin.

“I know you’re used to all that fancy restaurant stuff,” Brendan says, glancing over at her with a grin. “But trust me, this place? It’s unbeatable.”

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her smile. “You mean to tell me the guy who just finished a collab with one of the biggest designers prefers a hole-in-the-wall spot?”

“Absolutely,” he replies without hesitation. “You can’t trust a place that spends more time on the presentation than the food. Here? It’s all about the flavor, Mari.”

They stop in front of a small, unassuming building with a flickering sign that reads Mama Dee’s Kitchen. The windows are fogged up, and the smell of spices wafts out as someone opens the door.

Amari hesitates, looking at the worn exterior. “This is it?”

Brendan nods, his grin widening. “This is it. Best food in the city. You’ll see.”

Inside, the place is cozy and packed, with mismatched chairs and tables crammed together. The walls are covered in photos of customers, scribbled notes of thanks, and old newspaper clippings. A jukebox in the corner plays a soulful tune, adding to the warm, lived-in vibe.

As they sit down, a woman with a big smile and even bigger energy walks over, throwing a towel over her shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Brendan,” she says, hands on her hips. “Thought you were too big-time to visit us little folks anymore.”

Brendan laughs, standing up to give her a quick hug. “Mama Dee, you know I could never forget about you. Got someone special I wanted to bring by.”

Amari blushes slightly as Mama Dee looks her over, her sharp eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing,” she says, smiling warmly. “You keep him in line, alright? He needs it.”

“I’ll do my best,” Amari replies, smiling back as Brendan chuckles.

After taking their orders—Brendan insisting Amari tries the jerk chicken and mac and cheese—the two settle in. He leans back in his chair, watching her as she takes in the bustling atmosphere.

“So?” he asks, his voice soft but curious. “What do you think?”

Amari looks around, a small, genuine smile spreading across her lips. “I think it’s perfect,” she admits. “Way better than some pretentious rooftop spot.”

“Told you,” Brendan says, his grin triumphant.

When the food arrives, Amari is blown away. The flavors are rich and comforting, the kind of meal that feels like a hug. Brendan watches her reaction, satisfaction written all over his face.

“You weren’t kidding,” she says between bites, her tone amazed. “This might be the best food I’ve ever had.”

“I know my stuff,” he replies, winking. “Stick with me, Mari. I’ll take care of you.”

As the night goes on, the conversation flows easily, the lines between friendship and something more blurring even further. By the time they leave, Amari is convinced—this hole-in-the-wall is Brendan’s favorite for more than just the food. It’s a reflection of who he really is: unpretentious, full of heart, and unexpectedly soulful.

As they step out of Mama Dee’s Kitchen into the crisp night air, Amari hugs her jacket closer around herself. Brendan walks beside her, his hands tucked into his pockets, a satisfied smile lingering on his face from the meal.

She glances over at him, her brow furrowed slightly. “You’re about to go back to the studio tonight, aren’t you?” she asks, her tone half curious, half resigned.

Brendan chuckles, the sound low and warm. “What makes you say that?”

Amari rolls her eyes playfully. “Because I know you. You’ll eat a meal like that, and instead of relaxing, you’ll get all inspired and head straight back to work.”

He grins, shaking his head. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” she admits, slowing her pace slightly. “But do you ever just…stop? Take a night for yourself? For someone else?”

Brendan looks over at her, his expression softening. “I do,” he says after a moment. “You’re looking at it.”

Amari blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“This,” he says, gesturing between them. “Dinner with you, taking a break to spend time with someone I actually like? That’s me stopping, Mari. That’s me taking a night.”

Her cheeks warm, and she looks away to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re such a smooth talker,” she mutters, though her tone lacks any real bite.

“It’s not talk,” Brendan says, his voice quieter now. “I mean it. But yeah, I’ll probably head back to the studio after I drop you off. There’s this hook I’ve been trying to perfect, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Amari sighs, shaking her head. “Of course you will. You’re impossible, B.”

He chuckles again, nudging her shoulder lightly. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on the sound of their footsteps against the pavement. But as they reach her car, she turns to him, her expression softer.

“Just promise me you’ll get some sleep eventually, okay?” she says.

Brendan smirks, leaning casually against her car. “Only if you promise to keep being my favorite hairstylist-slash-dinner date.”

Amari laughs, shaking her head as she unlocks her door. “Deal.”

As she gets in, Brendan leans down, resting his arms on the window frame. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Mari,” he says, his voice sincere.

“Thanks for the food,” she replies, smiling. “And for the company.”

He taps the roof of her car lightly as he straightens up. “Anytime.”

As she drives off, Brendan watches her taillights disappear down the street before turning in the opposite direction. The studio’s calling, but for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel like the only place he wants to be.

-

Later that night, Amari is sprawled on her couch, wrapped in a soft throw blanket. The dim glow of her apartment’s ambient lighting casts a cozy hue over the room. She’s already undressed and in her favorite oversized t-shirt, a playlist of Brendan’s songs playing softly in the background.

As his smooth verses fill the space, she absentmindedly sips on a glass of wine, letting herself unwind after a long day. Her head bobs slightly to the beat, a small smile tugging at her lips as she listens to his voice.

Then, a soft knock breaks through the music. She freezes for a moment, her brows furrowing. It’s late—too late for unannounced visitors.

Setting her glass down, she stands and pads toward the door, her bare feet silent against the hardwood. “Who is it?” she calls out cautiously, leaning closer but not opening it just yet.

“It’s me,” comes Brendan’s familiar voice, muffled but unmistakable.

Amari sighs, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile as she unlocks the door. When she opens it, Brendan stands on the other side, hands in his pockets and an apologetic look on his face. He’s dressed in the same outfit from dinner, though his jacket is slung over one shoulder now, his curls slightly disheveled.

“B,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here? I thought you were heading to the studio.”

“I was,” he says, his tone low. “But I couldn’t focus. Kept thinking about you.”

Her heart skips a beat, but she quickly masks it with a raised brow. “Oh, really? And what exactly were you thinking?”

“That you’re probably here, cozy, listening to my music,” he says with a sly grin. “And I thought, ‘Why not give her the live version?’”

Amari rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he admits, stepping closer, his expression softening. “But I mean it. I just...wanted to see you again.”

She lets out a slow breath, her guard dropping slightly as she steps back to let him in. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” she teases, closing the door behind him.

Brendan surveys her apartment, the sound of his song still playing in the background. His smile widens when he hears it. “I knew it,” he says, turning to her. “You’ve got good taste, Mari.”

She shakes her head, walking past him to grab her glass of wine. “You’re impossible,” she says, though there’s no real heat in her words. “You want a drink?”

“Nah,” he says, his gaze following her. “I’m good. I didn’t come here to drink.”

His tone is softer now, and when she turns to look at him, his expression is unreadable but intense. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between them.

“B…” she starts, but the way he’s looking at her makes her words falter.

“Tell me to leave, Mari,” he says quietly, his voice steady but his eyes searching hers. “If you want me to, I’ll go. No questions, no hard feelings.”

She stares at him for a moment, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Finally, she exhales, setting her glass down on the counter.

“You’re already here,” she says softly. “Might as well stay.”

His lips curve into a slow smile, and he steps even closer, his hand brushing against hers. For now, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet warmth of her apartment, his voice still crooning softly from the speakers.

Brendan walks over to her couch, sinking into it with a contented sigh. “This is nice,” he says, looking around her apartment. “Cozy, just like you.”

Amari, still standing by the counter, suddenly becomes acutely aware of what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing. Brendan’s eyes are on her, warm and curious, but not overtly prying. Still, the thought that her oversized t-shirt is the only thing between her and complete exposure makes her pulse quicken.

“I, uh... I’ll be right back,” she mutters, turning quickly toward her bedroom.

Brendan watches her retreat, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Take your time,” he calls after her, leaning back against the couch cushions.

Amari practically dives into her dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts. She quickly slips them on, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Get it together, Mari,” she mutters to her reflection, her cheeks flushed.

When she comes back out, Brendan has made himself at home. One arm is draped over the back of the couch, and he’s scrolling through her playlist on the speakers. He glances up when he hears her footsteps, his gaze flicking down briefly before meeting her eyes.

“Feel better now?” he teases, a knowing smirk on his face.

She narrows her eyes at him but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start, B,” she warns, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

“I’m just saying,” he replies, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mind the outfit, but if this makes you more comfortable…”

“Shut up,” she says, laughing despite herself.

They sit in companionable silence for a moment, the soft hum of music filling the space. Brendan glances over at her, his expression thoughtful.

“Thanks for letting me crash,” he says, his tone quieter now. “I know it’s late.”

Amari shrugs, leaning back into the couch. “It’s fine. You’re not exactly a stranger.”

“No,” he agrees, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. “I’m not.”

There’s something in his gaze that makes her stomach flip, but she brushes it off, reaching for her wine glass. “So, what was on your mind at the studio?” she asks, changing the subject.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Honestly? You,” he says simply.

Amari blinks, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking up at her. “Can’t focus when I know you’re here, all cozy, listening to my stuff. It’s distracting.”

She scoffs, though her cheeks warm. “You’ve got a whole career to worry about, B. Don’t let me get in the way of that.”

He leans back again, his smile softening. “You’re not in the way, Mari. If anything, you’re the reason I keep going back.”

Her breath catches for a moment, but she quickly hides it behind her glass, taking a sip. Brendan just watches her, his eyes filled with something she’s not quite ready to name.

“I… uh…” Amari stammers, her usual confidence faltering under Brendan’s steady gaze. She sets her wine glass down on the table, her hands suddenly fidgeting with the edge of her shirt.

Brendan’s lips twitch into a small smile, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he leans back into the couch, draping one arm over the backrest and letting his other hand rest on his thigh. “Didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he says softly, his tone teasing but gentle.

“I’m not nervous,” she says quickly, though the slight crack in her voice betrays her.

“Right,” he replies, his smile widening. “Because you’re always this jumpy, huh?”

She glares at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, here I am,” he says, gesturing around her apartment. “Somehow still your favorite headache.”

Amari huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You give yourself way too much credit, B.”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes lock onto hers. “But I think I’m right about this one.”

The air between them shifts, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, something unspoken. Amari feels her pulse quicken, her chest tightening as she searches for something—anything—to say.

“B,” she starts, her voice quieter now, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but…”

“I’m just being honest,” he cuts in, his tone serious. “You said not to let you get in the way, but you don’t get it, Mari. You’re not in the way—you’re the reason I’m still in it.”

Her breath catches, and she looks away, her hands twisting in her lap. “That’s… a lot,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “But it’s the truth. And I’m not gonna pretend it’s not.”

For a moment, neither of them speaks. The only sound is the soft hum of music in the background, one of Brendan’s slower tracks setting the mood without either of them realizing it.

Amari finally looks back at him, her eyes searching his face. “Why now?” she asks, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

“Because I’m tired of pretending like I don’t feel this way every time I’m around you,” he says simply. “And if I’m being real, I think you feel it too.”

She exhales slowly, her walls cracking just enough for him to see the conflict in her eyes. “You’re not making this easy,” she murmurs.

“I’m not trying to,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “I’m just asking you to let me in.”

Amari swallows hard, the weight of his words settling over her. She doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know if she even needs to say anything. Brendan waits, patient and steady, giving her the space to decide.

Amari takes a deep breath, her heart racing as she looks down at him, his gaze intense yet calm, waiting for her. Something shifts in her, something undeniable, and without fully thinking, she slowly stands up. Her legs move deliberately as she straddles Brendan, her knees pressing against the couch on either side of him.

Brendan’s breath hitches at the change in position, his hands resting on her hips, his thumbs brushing the fabric of her shorts as he looks up at her, eyes dark with unspoken understanding.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

Amari meets his gaze, her own breathing shaky but steady. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice a whisper, “but I want to find out.”

He exhales slowly, his hands sliding around her waist to hold her steady, pulling her closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making her pulse quicken.

For a moment, they simply stay there, inches apart, the air between them thick with anticipation. Amari can feel the weight of her own hesitation, but it’s overshadowed by the pull of his presence. She lets herself fall into it, the world outside their small bubble fading as she leans down toward him.

Their lips meet in a soft, slow kiss, and the tension between them finally snaps. It’s a kiss full of unspoken words and raw connection, as if they’ve both been waiting for this moment, even if they didn’t realize it.

As the kiss deepens, Amari moves her hands to the back of his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. She can feel the warmth of his body beneath her, the steady rhythm of his breath matching hers.

Brendan responds in kind, his hands roaming slowly over her back, tracing her skin, savoring the feel of her against him. He pulls her closer, and she can feel the heat between them grow.

But even as the moment unfolds, Amari remains uncertain, the questions still swirling in her mind. She pulls back slightly, her chest heaving as she looks down at him.

“B, I…” She doesn’t know what to say.

Brendan’s hand gently cups her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin with an almost reverent touch. “Mari,” he says softly, his voice steady, “you don’t have to say anything.”

And for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. The silence between them isn’t awkward—it’s filled with understanding, trust, and something more. She doesn’t need to have all the answers right now. They’re here, in this moment, together. And that’s enough.

Brendan’s fingers trace the edge of Amari’s shirt, his touch light and tentative at first, as though giving her the chance to pull away if she wants. But Amari doesn’t move. Instead, she watches him, the anticipation making her pulse quicken. She feels the brush of his fingers against her skin, soft but deliberate, as he slowly tugs at the hem of her shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal the smoothness of her stomach.

Amari bites her lip, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her body betraying the calm she’s trying to maintain. The weight of his touch, the heat from his hands, makes her heart race, and she can’t help but shiver under his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmurs again, his voice hushed, just above a whisper, his eyes locking onto hers as his fingers linger at the fabric.

She meets his gaze, her hands resting on his shoulders for support, and there’s a softness in her eyes, something she hasn’t allowed herself to show in a while. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” she says, her voice steady despite the butterflies stirring in her stomach.

Brendan gives a small, approving smile, his thumb brushing along the hem of her shirt once more, but this time with more intent. “Then let’s make sure we take our time,” he says softly, his fingers sliding underneath the fabric, gently lifting it as though giving her the chance to stop him.

Amari’s breath catches as his hand slides beneath her shirt, his warm palm against her skin, sending a ripple of heat through her. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans down slightly, pressing her lips to his in a quiet, reassuring kiss, before drawing back to meet his eyes once more.

“Take your time, B,” she says quietly, her voice low and steady, matching the unspoken promise between them.

Once her shirt was discarded his eyes grew wide at the bareness of her.

Brendan’s breath catches in his throat when Amari’s shirt finally slips away, revealing the smoothness of her skin. His eyes widen, a mix of awe and admiration flickering across his features as he takes in the sight of her. There’s a brief moment of silence between them, filled only by the sound of their steady breaths.

Amari can feel the heat of his gaze on her, but instead of feeling exposed, she feels empowered, confident in a way she hasn’t in a while. She allows herself to meet his eyes, her chest rising and falling slowly as she watches his reaction. The intensity in his gaze is palpable, and for a moment, she allows herself to savor it.

“Damn, Mari,” he says, his voice rougher now, his hands hovering just above her skin as if unsure of how to proceed. He swallows hard, clearly trying to regain his composure. “You’re... stunning.”

Amari smiles softly, her heart fluttering at his words, but there’s also a part of her that knows this moment is more than just about physical attraction. It’s about trust. And she feels it, deep in her bones.

“Don’t just look,” she teases, her voice playful despite the vulnerability she feels. “Touch.”

At her urging, Brendan’s hands finally move, slow and careful, as he places one hand on her lower back and the other on her waist, his touch tentative but firm, as though seeking permission with each movement. She shivers at his warmth, her skin coming alive under his fingertips.

He leans in, his lips finding her shoulder, planting a soft kiss there, before trailing kisses along the curve of her neck. “You make it so damn hard to think,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice filled with the same unspoken longing.

Amari’s hands slide up to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and she lets herself sink into the moment, into the heat between them. The world outside her apartment feels like it’s fading away, leaving just the two of them, caught in a silent dance of desire and connection.

Brendan’s lips brush over the sensitive spot on Amari’s neck, and she can’t help the soft gasp that escapes her lips. Her body tenses at the sensation, a shiver running down her spine as her pulse quickens. “Fuck…” she breathes out, her voice a mix of surprise and pleasure.

He smiles against her skin, feeling the subtle tremor of her body under his touch. His hands move, pulling her closer as his lips continue to worship her neck, trailing kisses and light bites, pushing her closer to the edge of the moment.

Amari’s head tilts back instinctively, giving him more access, and she feels herself melting into the sensation, unable to hold back any longer. Her fingers thread into his hair, tugging him slightly as she whispers his name.

“B…” The word comes out almost like a plea, a quiet invitation for more.

Brendan’s breath hitches as he feels her grip on him tighten. He pauses for a second, looking up at her, his face inches from hers, the heat between them undeniable. “You good?” he asks, his voice low, but full of concern, needing her to be comfortable.

Her breath comes in short gasps, but her eyes never leave his, a look of quiet intensity in them. “Yeah,” she breathes, voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “Just… don’t stop.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. With a quiet chuckle, he leans in again, his hands moving to her hips as he pulls her closer, guiding her to where they both know the moment will lead.

Amari pulls back slightly, her breath shallow as she meets Brendan's eyes. Her heart races, but it’s not from the desire anymore. The weight of their earlier conversation in the shop—about boundaries, about where they stand—starts to flood her thoughts. She can feel the uncertainty creeping in, clouding the intensity of the moment.

“B…” she says again, this time her voice soft but firm, a quiet hesitation in her tone.

Brendan freezes, sensing the shift in her energy. His hand lingers on her waist, his gaze searching hers for understanding. He can feel the tension in the air, the way her body language has changed, and he immediately pulls back slightly, giving her the space she needs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice gentle, no longer carrying the earlier playfulness. Instead, it’s full of care and concern, knowing something has shifted for her.

Amari runs a hand through her hair, her mind racing. She tries to focus, to make sense of the confusion swirling inside her. “We talked about this before, you know? What this is, or isn’t…” She trails off, unsure of how to voice everything she’s feeling.

Brendan nods slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. “Yeah, I remember. I’m not trying to push you, Mari,” he says, his tone steady and reassuring. “I get it. You’ve got your own thing going on, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

She sighs, her shoulders dropping as she meets his gaze. “It’s not that… It’s just… I need to be sure. Sure about where we stand, what this is. I don’t want us getting tangled up in something neither of us really wants.”

Brendan reaches for her hand, his touch light but grounding. “I’m not here to confuse you or make things harder, Mari. If we need to slow down or take a step back, I’m all in. I just…” His voice falters for a moment, but he recovers, his sincerity clear. “I care about you. More than I let on sometimes. And I don’t want to mess that up.”

Her chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at something deep inside her. She looks at him for a long moment, taking in his earnestness. For the first time tonight, she feels like they’re both on the same page, even if they’re not entirely sure where that page leads.

“I care about you too,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “But I need to know this is more than just… than just what we’ve been doing, you know?”

Brendan nods, his thumb gently brushing her hand. “I get it. No rush. We take this however it needs to go.”

Amari exhales a shaky breath, relief washing over her. She smiles softly, grateful for his patience, for not pushing her further than she’s ready to go. They’re still in this, whatever "this" might be, but it’s okay. They’ll figure it out together.

Amari stands up and quickly grabs her shirt, trying to cover herself as she slips it back on, but her mind is still spinning from the tension that’s just simmered beneath the surface. As she pulls the fabric over her head, she mutters under her breath, “Shit! Now I’m turned on.”

Brendan watches her, his lips curving into a grin as he sees the conflicted look on her face. He leans back on the couch, his eyes never leaving her, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” he teases, his voice smooth and playful.

Amari looks at him, an eyebrow arched in mock disbelief. “You’re not helping,” she says, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She’s still caught between wanting to hold back and the undeniable pull of their chemistry.

“Maybe I’m not supposed to,” he responds, his tone low, as his gaze slowly slides over her. “But hey, I’m happy to be the one to turn you on.”

Amari lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing a little, though she can still feel the heat building between them. “You know what? Maybe I should go.” Her words are half-serious, though she’s not sure whether she wants to leave or not. The mixed signals are throwing her off.

Brendan chuckles, the playfulness in his eyes not fading. “You can try to leave, but you’re not fooling anyone.” His voice drops to a lower pitch, more teasing. “You’re still here for a reason.”

She shakes her head, her smile widening as she walks over to him, knowing full well that she’s not going anywhere. “You’re unbelievable,” she mutters, before sitting back down next to him.

His grin deepens. “And yet, you can’t get enough.”

Amari sighs, but there’s a hint of amusement in her voice as she turns her head to face him. “You’ve got a way of making things complicated, don’t you?”

“Maybe. But I think you like it,” he says, his voice steady, eyes holding a glimmer of something deeper, something real. “We don’t have to rush, Mari. But I’m not going anywhere, either.”

Her eyes meet his, a quiet understanding passing between them. There’s no rush, no pressure. For now, they just exist in the moment, whatever it may turn into.

Brendan stands up, his movements slow, as though not wanting to leave just yet. He looks down at Amari, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Till next time," he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.

Before she can say anything, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a second longer than expected, as if the touch itself carries a promise—one that both of them are trying to make sense of.

Amari feels the tenderness of his kiss, and despite the earlier tension, she’s filled with a sense of calm. Her heart flutters for a moment, the intimacy of the gesture striking her in a way that she didn't anticipate. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a quiet assurance.

“Take care, B,” she says softly, standing up to see him to the door.

He gives her one last smile, nodding as he reaches for the doorknob. “You too, Mari. I’ll be in touch.”

With a final glance, Brendan steps out, leaving Amari standing in the doorway, a quiet sense of longing in her chest. But this time, it’s different. She’s not sure what comes next, but for the first time in a while, she feels like it might be okay to just let it unfold.

A few days later, after finishing a shoot, Brendan finds himself thinking about Amari more than he expected. He’s been caught up in work, but now that the shoot is over and the adrenaline has faded, he can’t shake the feeling that he wants to see her again. There’s something about the way they connect, the way things are between them, that keeps drawing him in.

He sends her a text: "Hey, you busy? Want to come by the penthouse tonight?"

Amari, who’s winding down from her own day, reads the message with a soft smile. She had been wondering when he would reach out again. Their last encounter had been full of mixed emotions, but she’s curious about where things could go from here.

She types back, "Yeah, I can swing by. What’s the occasion?"

Brendan’s reply is almost immediate: "No occasion. Just wanted to see you."

Her heart flutters at the simplicity of his words. She feels a rush of warmth, and despite all the complexities between them, there’s something comforting about his honesty.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” she types before putting her phone down. She takes a moment to freshen up, changing into something casual yet comfortable, and makes her way to his penthouse.

When she arrives, the city lights shine in the distance, casting a soft glow through the massive windows of Brendan’s high-rise. The door opens before she can even knock, and there he is, standing with a relaxed smile on his face.

"Hey," he says, stepping aside to let her in. "I’m glad you came."

She smiles back, a little more at ease this time. "You didn’t give me much of a choice," she teases, stepping inside.

He chuckles and closes the door behind her, then leads her to the living room, where the atmosphere is cozy, dimly lit by soft lighting and a few candles scattered around. It’s clear he’s made an effort to set the mood, though it’s not overly romantic—more laid-back and inviting.

“I just finished the shoot, so I’m kinda wiped,” Brendan admits, running a hand through his hair. “But I wanted to hang out for a bit. You cool with that?”

Amari nods, taking a seat on the couch. “Yeah, I’m good with that. You’re always on the go. It’s nice to see you actually relax for once.”

Brendan grins, sitting beside her. "That’s the goal," he says, kicking off his shoes and stretching out his legs. "I’m just trying to enjoy the little things."

As they sit together, the conversation flows easily, a mix of lighthearted teasing and deeper, more genuine moments. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the two of them sharing space and time together, enjoying each other’s company.

Brendan sits back on the couch, stretching out with ease, his shirt discarded after the shoot. His tattoos, scattered across his arms and chest, tell a story of their own, each one a piece of his past, his experiences. The ink blends seamlessly with his muscular build, broad shoulders and strong arms, giving him a presence that Amari can’t help but notice.

As he leans back, his posture relaxed but confident, Amari catches herself admiring him. The tattoos, the strength in his frame, the way his body seems effortless in its masculinity—it all pulls her in. She can’t help but smile to herself, feeling a familiar heat rise inside her, a quiet turn-on that she tries to push aside, but it’s there, undeniable.

“You good?” Brendan asks, noticing the smile on her lips. His voice has a teasing undertone now, aware of the effect he’s having on her but not letting on that he’s noticed.

Amari clears her throat, trying to stay composed, but there’s something about the combination of his casual ease and his striking physique that has her feeling a bit breathless. “Yeah, just… admiring your work,” she says with a playful grin, motioning to his tattoos.

Brendan chuckles, glancing down at his arms, then back to her with a raised eyebrow. “You like them?”

“I like them,” she confirms with a soft smile, her gaze lingering on his arms for a moment longer than necessary. "A lot."

He shifts, leaning in slightly, the muscles in his chest tightening as he crosses his arms over his torso, his gaze never leaving hers. "Well, if you're into that kind of thing, maybe you should get a closer look," he teases, his tone low, just enough to make her heart race again.

Amari feels a sudden wave of boldness sweep over her, but she plays it cool, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Maybe later," she says, leaning back into the couch, though she can’t quite hide the subtle glimmer in her eyes.

Brendan watches her, the playful energy between them intensifying. "You sure? I promise, there's more where that came from."

Her smile widens, and she leans toward him slightly. “We’ll see about that.”

The tension between them simmers, the easy banter turning into something more, something deeper, but still lighthearted. They’re both aware of the pull they have on each other, but for now,they remain in the moment, no rush, no pressure. Just two people enjoying each other’s presence.

Brendan grabs the remote and casually flips on the TV, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the room. He shifts slightly on the couch, getting comfortable, and without saying much, Amari naturally leans into him, her head resting against his chest as she snuggles close. The warmth of his skin and the steady rhythm of his breathing make her feel at ease, the tension of the evening melting away.

She can feel the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her, and it brings a sense of calm she didn’t expect. His arm instinctively wraps around her, pulling her a little closer as they both sink into the quiet of the room. There’s no need for words right now; the comfort of each other’s presence speaks volumes.

Amari shifts slightly, finding a better position against him, and with a small sigh of contentment, she lets the world outside fall away. The show on the TV fades into the background as she focuses on the warmth between them.

“Comfy?” Brendan asks, his voice low, the familiar teasing undertone replaced by something a little softer, a little more sincere.

“Yeah,” Amari murmurs, her voice soft as she looks up at him. "I think I could get used to this."

He smiles, his thumb gently rubbing small circles on her arm. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The moment feels easy and unhurried, like it could stretch on indefinitely. The connection between them is quiet but undeniably strong, and as the TV plays on in the background, they both find themselves content in the simple closeness they share.

Brendan’s voice is gentle as he asks, his fingers still tracing small circles on her arm. "Tell me about your day?"

Amari leans into him a little more, letting herself relax further into his warmth. She takes a slow breath, her thoughts drifting back to the events of her day. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but in the quiet of the moment, it feels nice to share it with him.

“Nothing too exciting,” she starts, her voice soft and comfortable. “Had a few clients come in, just the usual. Spent some time brainstorming new styles for a shoot next week. You know, just the usual hustle.”

She looks up at him, finding his gaze steady on her, his interest genuine. "And you? How was the shoot?"

Brendan smiles, his eyes lighting up slightly as he recalls the day’s events. "It went well. Long day, but it always feels good when you’re able to finish strong, you know? The crew was solid, and the photographer had some really great ideas. But honestly, I think the best part was coming home."

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Coming home to this.”

Amari feels a warmth spread through her at his words, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” she says quietly, her voice full of sincerity.

Brendan chuckles lightly, the mood lightening once again. "I could tell. You’ve got that smile that says you were thinking about me." His teasing tone is back, but there’s no mistaking the affection in his voice.

Amari rolls her eyes but can’t suppress the smile that grows wider. "You’re full of yourself, you know that?"

But even as she says it, she finds herself more comfortable in his presence, the day’s stress already forgotten in the easy, shared space between them. She settles deeper into him, feeling a sense of peace that she hasn’t realized she was craving.

The conversation flows between them easily, with small moments of laughter, teasing, and more serious talk about life, work, and everything in between. And as the evening continues, Amari finds herself grateful for these simple, quiet moments—the kind that remind her that, sometimes, it’s the little things that matter most.

“B….you know we’re not together right.” She says. Brendan pauses for a moment, his hand still resting on her arm as he looks down at her. Her words hang in the air between them, and the playful lightness of the moment shifts into something more serious.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice soft but steady. His gaze meets hers, and there's a depth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "I know we’re not together, Amari. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this… whatever this is."

Amari takes in a slow breath, the weight of the conversation settling in her chest. She hadn’t meant to bring it up like this, but the clarity of her thoughts is something she needs to express. She shifts slightly, pulling back a bit so she can look at him properly.

“I don’t want to make things messy, B,” she says, her voice steady but carrying the vulnerability that she’s been holding onto. “I care about you, but we’ve got our own lives and things to figure out. I don’t want us to get lost in something that isn’t going anywhere.”

Brendan doesn’t look offended or distant. Instead, he listens, nodding slowly, as if he’s been expecting this conversation to come at some point. He’s quiet for a long moment before he responds, his words measured but honest.

"I get it, Mari," he says, his voice low. "I respect that. I never want to make things complicated or push you into something you don’t want. I guess I just… like spending time with you." He chuckles softly, the tension easing in his own way. "I guess I was hoping it could be more, but I’m not trying to rush anything."

Amari’s heart feels a little lighter hearing that. His honesty and understanding calm some of the nerves she didn’t realize she had. She appreciates that he’s not trying to force anything or make her feel guilty for speaking her mind.

“I appreciate that, B,” she says, her eyes softening. “And I do enjoy our time together. I just don’t want us to end up in a situation where one of us gets hurt because we were too caught up in something we didn’t really want.”

Brendan nods again, this time with a more serious look in his eyes. "Yeah, I hear you. We’re on the same page."

There’s a quiet moment between them, the air a little less heavy, but still full of unspoken understanding. Amari leans back into him, but this time, it’s a bit different—more grounded, more aware of where they both stand.

“I’m glad we talked about it,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now. “It feels good to clear the air.”

“Me too,” Brendan replies softly, his arm wrapping around her again, but with a new sense of ease and respect. "And whatever this is, I’m good with it."

Amari inhales deeply, her thoughts momentarily drifting from the serious conversation to the undeniable presence of Brendan beside her. His shirtless frame, the tattoos inked across his chest and arms, the warmth radiating from his skin, all of it pulls her in once more. There’s a magnetic force in the way he sits—relaxed, confident, yet somehow still so approachable.

Her gaze lingers a moment longer, drawn to the way his muscles move beneath his skin, the subtle strength he exudes even in stillness. The connection between them shifts again, this time with an undeniable tension that neither of them can deny.

Brendan notices her change in posture, the slight shift in her body, and he watches her carefully, sensing the change in the atmosphere. A playful glint enters his eyes, but this time, it’s tempered by something deeper, something more introspective. He knows what she’s feeling, and he feels it too, but there’s a new understanding in the way he waits for her to decide how she wants to navigate it.

“Amari…” he says her name softly, almost as if testing the waters, his voice steady yet laced with curiosity. "You sure about this? About us?"

His question is gentle, but the underlying tension in his words makes it clear that he’s not pushing, just making sure they’re still on the same page despite the pull between them. He’s giving her the space to either step back or lean in, respecting whatever choice she makes.

Amari swallows, her heart racing a little faster, and her eyes flick up to meet his. The words she’s been holding back seem to fall away as the warmth between them intensifies, her restraint dissolving with every beat of her heart. It’s as if everything they’ve said, every conversation they’ve had, no longer matters in this moment. What’s left is simply the undeniable chemistry, the raw connection that’s always been there beneath the surface.

Without saying a word, she leans forward, her lips meeting his in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s a kiss that says everything, that answers his question without a need for more words. She’s not backing away, not this time. And when she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a new, unspoken understanding.

“Yeah,” she says quietly, her voice full of desire, no longer guarded. “I’m sure.”

Brendan moves with a sense of purpose, his hands gently but firmly pulling Amari onto his lap. The movement is natural, like they’ve both been waiting for this, and as she settles against him, her body aligns with his effortlessly. She can feel the heat of his skin beneath her, the tension between them palpable.

For a moment, they both remain still, taking in the closeness. The feel of her body pressed against his, the rhythm of their breaths syncing, it all heightens the quiet intimacy of the moment. Amari’s heart beats faster, her pulse quickening as she realizes just how much she wants to be here, in this space, with him.

Brendan’s hands rest on her hips, fingers lightly tracing the curve of her waist as he looks up at her with a mixture of desire and tenderness. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes now, something deeper than just attraction—it’s the recognition of a connection that neither of them can ignore.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against her neck as he whispers, "Are you sure about this, Mari?" His voice is low, husky, filled with both curiosity and something more.

Amari meets his gaze, her eyes filled with a fire that matches his. She doesn’t need to say anything this time. The way she presses herself closer to him, the way her hands find the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, speaks louder than words ever could.

The kiss deepens as they both surrender to the moment, letting the world outside fall away. There’s no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. Just the feeling of their bodies moving together, a perfect harmony of desire and connection.

The morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Amari stirs awake, the warmth of the bed wrapping around her like a comforting cocoon. She glances over at Brendan's side of the bed, empty, before hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom. A few moments later, the door opens, and Brendan emerges, brushing his teeth casually, his expression relaxed.

Amari takes in the sight of him—shirtless, his tattoos on full display, his hair still damp from the shower. There’s a peacefulness in the way he moves, and for a second, she allows herself to simply enjoy the moment, watching him with a quiet smile.

He notices her gaze and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He spits into the sink, wiping his mouth before turning to her. “Morning,” he says, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning,” she replies, her voice soft, though there's a certain warmth in her tone. She shifts slightly in the bed, pulling the shirt she borrowed tighter around her, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than she did the night before.

Brendan steps toward the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “How’d you sleep?” he asks, the casual affection in his voice making her heart flutter.

“Better than I expected,” she responds, her smile growing a little. "You?"

“Same,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking at her with a mix of contentment and curiosity. “How’s everything feeling? No regrets?”

Amari chuckles softly, shaking her head. "No regrets," she says, meeting his eyes with a sense of clarity. "It’s just... I wasn’t really expecting to wake up here, but I’m not upset about it."

Brendan’s eyes soften, and he reaches over to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m glad you’re not," he says quietly, his voice serious but not overbearing. "We’re good, right?"

She nods, her gaze steady on him. “Yeah. We’re good.”

A comfortable silence falls between them, and for a moment, it feels like the world outside the room doesn’t matter. It’s just the two of them, sharing this quiet moment, free of the complexities that often come with situations like this. Amari feels a sense of peace, but also a flicker of curiosity about what comes next.

“So,” she says after a beat, her smile playful as she glances up at him. “What now?”

Brendan grins, brushing his hand through his damp hair. “How about breakfast?” he suggests, standing up from the bed. “I think you deserve something other than my bed to wake up to.”

Amari chuckles, feeling the ease between them. “Sounds good to me.”

“Did we have sex last night?” She asks. He smirks. “No. But we did make out.” He says.

Brendan’s smirk widens slightly as he sits back on the edge of the bed, eyeing Amari with a playful glint in his eyes. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking both relaxed and teasing. “No, we didn’t,” he replies with a teasing tone, “but we definitely made out.”

Amari raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and curiosity crossing her face. She tries to remember the details of the night before, but the haze of sleep and the overwhelming intimacy of it all makes it hard to pinpoint.

“Honestly?” she asks, sounding slightly surprised but not disappointed. “I don’t even remember how we ended up here. I guess we really just... kept things low-key, huh?”

Brendan chuckles, shifting his position to face her more directly. “I think we both just enjoyed being around each other last night,” he says thoughtfully, “and decided not to rush anything. And honestly, it was nice not to have to jump into anything.”

Amari laughs lightly, finally feeling a sense of ease. “Well, I’m glad that we weren’t in some weird, blurry ‘morning after’ situation, then,” she says with a smirk, clearly relieved.

“No weirdness,” Brendan assures her with a wink, leaning forward a little. “Just us, being real and honest.”

There’s a moment of understanding between them, a quiet acknowledgment that whatever their dynamic is, it’s not something either of them needs to rush into or label immediately. It’s comfortable, and there’s no pressure to make it anything more than it is right now.

“Alright,” Amari says, finally sitting up and stretching. “So, no wild stories to tell about last night, huh?”

“Not unless you count making out like teenagers,” he says, grinning. “But if you’re asking for wild... that’s definitely a ‘maybe’ for later.”

Amari laughs, the tension easing further between them. “Good to know. So, breakfast?”

“Definitely,” Brendan says with a smile, extending a hand to help her up. “Let’s see if I can cook something edible, or if we’re stuck ordering takeout.”

“But first.” He says as he kisses her again. Amari smiles, her eyes meeting his with a mix of amusement and something deeper, more drawn to the unspoken connection they’re sharing. She doesn’t say anything at first, letting the moment unfold naturally. Then, without hesitation, Brendan leans in and presses his lips to hers again—a soft kiss at first, slow and deliberate.

The kiss deepens as the world outside seems to fade away, and all that matters is the two of them in this quiet, intimate space. It's a reminder that, even without words, they’re both fully present with each other in this moment. The gentle pressure of his lips on hers stirs something inside her, a warmth that radiates from her chest.

She pulls back after a few moments, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she looks at him, her breath slightly heavier. "You’re really trying to distract me from breakfast, aren’t you?"

Brendan chuckles, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he admits, his voice playful. “But I just couldn’t help myself.”

Amari shakes her head, though the smile on her lips betrays the playful banter between them. “Alright, alright,” she says, finally standing up and stretching once more. “Breakfast it is. But next time, I’m calling the shots on distractions.”

Brendan laughs, following her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. The moment of tenderness has passed, but there’s an ease and a comfort in the space between them now—no expectations, just a shared understanding of the time they’ve spent together.

Later that day she is waiting for another appointment when Brendan comes in. 

Amari sits in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine, trying to pass the time before her next appointment. She’s only half-focused on the pages, her thoughts drifting back to the morning and the quiet moments she shared with Brendan. Her mind replays the kiss they’d shared before breakfast, and she can’t help but smile to herself. It was an easy, comfortable morning, but now, she’s not sure where things are going.

As she looks up, the door to the office opens, and in walks none other than Brendan. He’s dressed casually, a black hoodie over a t-shirt, his usual cool demeanor intact. When he spots her, a smile spreads across his face, and he heads toward her, clearly recognizing the surprise in her expression.

"Didn’t expect to see you here again so soon," Amari says, her voice a mix of amusement and mild surprise.

Brendan grins, leaning against the doorway. “Well, you know I can’t stay away for too long,” he teases. “Besides, I had a bit of time, so I thought I’d drop by. You look like you're waiting for something important."

She chuckles lightly, a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "I’m just killing time. Got another appointment. Nothing too exciting."

“Good thing I showed up then,” he says, stepping into the room. "I’m much more exciting than whatever you’ve got going on."

Amari raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. "I’d say you’re right. But I’m trying to keep things professional here."

Brendan smirks, clearly unfazed by her comment. “You’re always so serious. I think you just like to keep me on my toes."

"Maybe," she replies, leaning back in her chair. "But you know how it is. Can't make things too easy for you."

He moves closer, standing just a little too close for comfort. "Easy?" he repeats, his voice dropping a bit lower. "I’m not sure you’ve ever made anything easy for me, Mari."

Amari feels a spark of tension between them, but she tries to keep her composure. "I never said I would."

Brendan chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back and forth. “Well, you’ve definitely got me hooked," he says with a wink, before taking a seat beside her.

For a moment, they sit in comfortable silence, the space between them charged with unspoken understanding. Amari wonders if this is where their dynamic is headed—casual but undeniably intense. Before she can fully process her thoughts, the receptionist calls her name, and she stands up, ready to head into her appointment.

“Guess that’s me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Don’t go getting any ideas while I’m gone.”

Brendan laughs softly. “No promises. Catch you later, Mari.”

As she walks away, Amari can’t shake the feeling that things between them are only just beginning to get more complicated.

Amari pauses in the doorway, her hand on the handle when Brendan’s voice catches her attention. She turns to see him holding a small, elegantly wrapped box. He doesn’t say much, just a small smile on his face, as if he’s done something simple yet significant.

“Here,” he says, his voice casual, but there’s a certain sincerity behind his eyes.

She walks back towards him, a little confused but intrigued, and accepts the box. “What’s this?” she asks, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the gift.

“Open it,” Brendan replies, his gaze flicking toward the door as if he’s already halfway out.

Amari carefully unwraps the box, her curiosity piqued. Inside, she finds a key—sleek and polished, with the Mercedes logo shining in the light. Her heart skips a beat. She looks up at Brendan, speechless for a moment, before her gaze shifts outside the window. Her breath catches when she sees the G-Wagon parked outside, its dark, luxurious exterior gleaming in the sunlight.

“No... you didn’t,” she breathes, looking back at him in disbelief.

Brendan’s smirk widens as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I did,” he says simply, his voice steady but with an underlying playfulness. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

Amari stands frozen for a moment, processing what he’s said. She walks over to the window, eyes still locked on the impressive G-Wagon. She can hardly believe it—he had to have put a lot of thought into this, a gesture that felt like more than just a gift. The weight of the gesture doesn’t escape her.

Turning back to him, her voice soft, she finally says, “Why?”

Brendan shrugs, his eyes softening a bit as he watches her. “Just thought you deserved it,” he says with a casual shrug. “It’s been a crazy few weeks. Consider it... a little thank you.”

“But—” she begins, unsure of how to respond. “This is... way more than I was expecting. You sure about this?”

Brendan steps closer to her, his expression now serious, the playful edge gone from his voice. “I’m sure. You’re not someone who just gets by on anything. You deserve something nice. And I don’t do things halfway, Mari.”

Amari’s heart races, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling within her. She looks back at the key in her hand, the weight of it finally settling. “This is a big deal, B,” she says, her voice small but steady. “I’m not sure I know how to accept something like this.”

Brendan reaches out, gently taking her hand with the key in it. “It’s not about the car, Mari. It’s about showing you that I’m serious about being here. I want you to know I’ve got your back.”

She meets his eyes, searching for any sign of a hidden agenda, but all she sees is sincerity.

"Well..." she says after a beat, her voice still thick with emotions she hadn’t quite expected to feel. "I guess I’ll take it... but I’m not forgetting this."

Brendan smiles, the tension between them easing. "I wouldn’t want you to."

With a final look at the G-Wagon, Amari nods slowly. "Thank you, B," she says softly. "This... means more than you probably know."

Without another word, Brendan slips out the door, leaving her standing there, the weight of the key in her hand symbolizing not just the car, but the unspoken complexity of their connection.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout

[starcrossedxwriter]

Double Trouble (Aaron Pierre x Black Reader x MBJ)

Warnings! NSFW, HEAVY BDSM, HEAVY Daddy kink, threesome (MFM), Everything is consensual! Degredation kink, Praise kink, Bratty reader, Dom! Aaron, Dom!MBJ

A/N: went hella overboard with this one! The plot is pure filth.

***

“Baby?” 

Your soft calls were barely loud enough to be heard over your boyfriend’s latest afrobeats obsession, which blasted through your shared home’s sound system. You lazily kicked off your red bottoms, a guttural sigh of relief escaping you as your exhausted feet relaxed out of the painful position it required to sport such beautiful but impractical shoes all day.

On your way to hunt down the love of your life, you stopped by your study, not even bothering to turn on the light as you discarded your Chloe work tote in your chair and closed the door behind you. 

After closing the biggest case of your career, you would not need to see the interior of either of your offices for a week and that almost brought tears of joy to your eyes. You and Aaron did not even have the energy to plan a trip. Having just wrapped a project two weeks prior, you both were overjoyed to spend a week at home wrapped up in each other.

You rolled your shoulders. Prayerfully, your boyfriend would take pity on you and give you a massage to ease the knots that took up residence in your back. You lazily made your way to the kitchen, knowing where you’d find the man you loved - but currently did not like. 

His back was to the arched entryway as you snuck in behind him, stealing a grape from his masterful charcuterie board that sat nearby. 

Despite your righteous annoyance at him, you never missed an opportunity to simply admire Aaron in his element. Like most actors, he suffered from the curse of always having to be “on.” But in the sanctuary of your home, he could just be Aaron, your gentle, loving, goofy, carefree boyfriend. 

And it certainly helped that he looked positively delicious today, setting a stupid table for a stupid dinner you didn’t want to host. He did every day but something was about him today in particular just made you want to sink to your knees and worship him with your tongue. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. You were pissed off. 

And that lust simply soured into red hot annoyance at the surprise guest your too-kind boyfriend invited to dinner. And while you never usually complained about company,  after months of endless days and sleepless and sexless nights, your vision of a relaxing evening was not entertaining a third wheel. 

It was a tall glass of wine, an amazing meal. And… then having your daddy twist you into a literal human pretzel and fuck the stress out of your body. 

But he hated you, clearly.

A sentiment you articulated (along with others) in a snarky text hours earlier. But Aaron, forever unbothered by your theatrics, merely responded that you should trust your daddy because… 

Daddy knows best. 

And despite the strong independent lawyer inside you who demanded control and to be right (and she usually was), you knew he was right about this one thing. Aaron could always see exactly what you needed. 

And despite your attitude earlier, you still spied his traditional gift for you after winning a big case neatly displayed on the white marble counter: your favorite cake from a bakery nearby and a bouquet of tulips. The varying vibrant shades of pink made something in your soul smile. He knew you too well.

Your silent studying did not go unnoticed for long, Aaron turning around not even startled to find you there. His expressive eyes lit up at the sight of your half grin, which you tried to suppress because you were supposed to be angry at him, and the hand on your hip as you leaned into the counter. 

He was in front of you before you could blink, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into his embrace. His muscles were threatening to destroy the fabric of his crisp button down, many of his clothes ill equipped to handle the additional muscles he gained for his latest project. 

“Hey princess.” 

Forever a brat and annoyed at the implosion of your plans for the night, you jerked your head to the side as he kissed you, forcing his lips to catch your cheek instead. 

Aaron merely let out a low chuckle, knowing that your bark was far worse than your bite. 

When it came to Aaron, you were about as strong as a lawn chair. You’d fold without resistance. Every. Single. Time. You always thought you were God’s strongest soldier… until you met Aaron. Kryptonite indeed. 

“Still mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you folded your arms as best you could against your chest, scoffing. “Between you playin’ the british assassin all around LA and me trying to negotiate with that asshole partner, we’ve had zero time together and no time to relax. And our first real free night in months without briefs and lines to run, you wanna play captain save a nigga with your friend? And then you spring it on me on some last minute shit. Those lips aren’t gonna get you outta this one, A.” 

“I know, I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry for messing up your plans for the night. I know how excited you are to finally have a break. But I’m trying to surprise you so please just trust me. If I know you like I think I do, you’re gonna like it.” 

“Well I think we’re about to make history then.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The first time you get a surprise wrong. Honestly it’s probably a good thing? You’ve always been a bit too perfect to be real,” you added, causing him to grin. “But the only thing I would like right now is for you to fuck me into oblivion. So unless this dinner guest can help with that, I doubt I’ll like it. But what’s done is done. Now let me go so I can get ready.” 

A stare down. Another moment where you’d inevitably crumbled. Because only Jesus himself was strong enough to stare in those eyes and not give this man everything you had. 

However, to your surprise, he looked away from you first, nodding and letting his arm fall so you could head upstairs. 

You started to walk out of the kitchen, prepared to sulk the last of your frustrations away before putting on the smile of a gracious host when you heard him call after you. 

“What if they can?”

“What if they can what?” you glanced behind you. 

“Help me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You lurched forward, his words stopping you dead in your tracks. 

No… he couldn’t mean… The tiniest thrill of excitement jolted across your brain like a shooting star. But you steadied yourself. He couldn’t possibly mean what you were thinking. So you played it off. 

“Ha. ha. Ha. Very funny, A.” 

“You hear me laughin’?” 

You slowly turned around to find him behind you, his eyes brimmed with pure lust. But nothing in his face signaled he was joking about a single thing. 

“Remember all those fantasies you told me about, princess?” 

It would take lifetimes for you to forget. You had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life telling Aaron every filthy fantasy you had while he fucked you on your apartment balcony. You prayed they were long forgotten by breakfast the next morning, but he remembered every single one. And ever since, he made it his mission to help you fulfill them. 

“Wait… you’re ser- you’re serious? You want to-” 

It was most certainly a fantasy but the practicalities of it seemed unrealistic. You never seriously considered that Aaron would ever try to arrange it.

He merely smirked and pressed his lips to the top of your nose. His voice was low, hypnotic and mesmerizing. 

“Got a few treats upstairs for you. Go get ready.” 

“Wait… we aren’t gonna talk about this?? You aren't gonna give me details?” 

“Nah. You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight right, baby? I’d hate to punish you in front of company, princess.” 

But EYE wouldn't hate that. A voice echoed in your brain, the thought of a spanking making you want to disobey just for the hell of it.

“Of course you’d like the sound of that,” he teased you before his eyes softened a bit. You could tell he saw it. That kernel of hesitation at the whole affair, that side of you that had to be in the driver’s seat wanting to talk and litigate every risk before you leaned into the pleasure of it.

“Hey, Y/N… baby. This is just going to be a fun night. And the moment it’s no longer fun for you, we stop. Just like that. Just say the word. If you aren’t feelin' it and him, we end it and it's still just a fun night with a friend. Understand?” 

You nodded before correcting yourself so he didn’t have to. “Yes, I understand. Your surprise might’ve won out again… maybe you really are perfect.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been tryin' to tell you. Just gotta trust me. Now go get ready. Only wear what I laid out for you.” 

Every step to your master suite pumped up your adrenaline. And made you fall deeper in love with your boyfriend. And his ability to fulfill your needs and desires and center your pleasure. He knew your limits, your boundaries, your needs and never wavered. 

A black cocktail dress waited for you with strappy gold heels. Along with your gold choker, with “good girl” engraved on its gold charm and your gold bullet.

Your skin felt electrified, a buzz radiating from every cell as you readied yourself. You weren’t surprised at the slick already pooling at the crest of your thick thighs when you slid your thong to the side and eased the bullet into you. You hissed at the cool silicone against your heat but you persisted. It was uncomfortable for a moment but as you continued dressing, you long forgot its presence. You knew its companion, a small gold remote, was with your master. Exactly where it should be.

You examined yourself in the mirror, hands running over your soft curves as you studied yourself. You had to admit that Aaron picked well. The dress accentuated his favorite parts of your body, hugging your hourglass shape so your ass and thighs were on display. The cutouts and mirroring each side of your ribs and plunging neckline would give him easy access to your boobs, which were begging to be freed from the confines of the tight bodice. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous baby.” 

“Thank you. You picked well.” 

“Final touch?” he picked up your choker, which waited for him on the bed. He always had the privilege of putting it on you. Because it signified the official start of your game. When the choker was on, your pleasure, your body was his to command, his to give and his to take away. Sweet surrender of control to the person you trusted most in this world. 

He towered over you as he stood behind you and placed the piece on your neck.  

“We’re gonna have dinner, dessert and then if you’re comfortable with continuing the night, just ask him to stay for a drink. Otherwise, the night will end. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” His hands traced the hourglass shape of your curves, his hands stilling only once along the near-indistinguishable lines of your thong. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, the shrill chime of their doorbell interrupted him. He sighed, turning you around in his arms. “Later. Ready to have some fun?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

Even in heels you had to stretch yourself to reach his lips. He took your hand, leading you down the stairs, some of your nerves being replaced by sudden intrigue. 

“You really aren’t gonna tell me who it is??” 

“What would be the fun in that?” With a wink back at her, he jogged the remaining steps and crossed the foyer with the quickness of an athlete and swung their door open. 

“Hey man! Thanks for coming by. Glad we could do this.” 

“Definitely, definitely. Thanks for the invite, man.” 

And that was the second time today you found yourself stopped dead in your tracks. The Michael B. Jordan stepped into your foyer, his charisma and star-powered charm oozing out of his pores as if he naturally produced it. 

Fuck me. He invited your celebrity crush, the main character of far more wet dreams than you’d ever admit out loud. And while Aaron was it for you, if you could ever take advantage of the “celebrity hall pass” concept, Michael Bae Jordan would be at the top of your list.

Well, that’s what he’s here to do. Daddy does indeed know best. 

At first, you had a feeling you’d be taking Aaron’s out. But now? Hell would have to freeze over before you gave up the opportunity of your dreams. Part of you cursed yourself for not guessing it was him to begin with. Aaron had been in a total bromance with the man since they wrapped filming. But now you had more questions. How did this even come up? How do you organize a threesome? Is this just a normal thing to talk about?

Who the fuck cares? You’re about to have the night of your life. 

You pushed them to the back of your mind, filing them away for tomorrow.

“And I don’t think you met my girl yet officially, but this is Y/N." The introduction forced your legs to start to move again, down the stairs and toward him.

“Geesh… they didn’t make lawyers like this when I was comin’ up. Michael,” he introduced himself. He held out his arms for a hug. “Aaron’s told me so much about you.” 

“Good thin-,” You started to toss your boyfriend a teasing grin as you closed the last couple of feet to return Michael’s hug. However, just as you were in arm’s length, the forgotten vibrator nestled inside you came alive. You let out an involuntary cross between a sigh and a moan that couldn’t be hidden. 

Could the ground open and just swallow me? 

Michael’s eyes glistened with amusement, letting you know he was not ignorant to your reality. 

“You good, baby girl?” he asked, with a knowing grin as you tried to avoid squirming in his embrace.

“Y-Yea, yea. Just h-had a chill. I was just gonna say that I hope he’s t-telling you good things,” you stammered, the jolts of pleasure siphoning off fractions of your vocal ability.

“Only good things, I promise. Just that you were the sexiest and best lawyer he’d ever seen. He was right about the first part, I’m sure he’s right about the second too.” 

“Hardly the best.” Your tone and smile were the picture of humility at his praise. You liked the sound of it on his lips, you also didn’t hate the way “baby girl" sounded when he said it too. 

“Y/N is being hella modest. She’s about to be the youngest junior partner in her firm’s history. And the first black woman.” 

“Aye! That’s what’s up! So we’re celebrating tonight?”

You grinned. “Don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves… just office gossip you know. We’ll see in a week.” 

Fuck, he was sexier than you imagined. Somehow tvs and movies simply didn’t do him justice. Like Aaron, he was at his peak physical weight, his muscles thick and lethal. They both stood in front of you looking like Gods, cut from the most perfect stone. 

“I-it’s just so great to meet you. You’re one of my favorite actors.” 

Michael drank you in like you were the finest glass of scotch, savoring every inch of skin exposed, every curve on prominent display. You felt hot underneath his stare, as if he had xray vision to see the promised lands this dress covered. You almost wilted like a flower under his intensity. 

We aren’t gonna make it through dinner, you thought to yourself. Or I can just be dinner. 

It was not your worst thought by far. The vision was quite enticing. Aaron ordering you to strip for them before displaying you on the table so they could feast on you. Your eyes darkened with clouds of lust. You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath, noting the amused glance that passed between the two men. Were all your thoughts broadcasting to them? 

“We… should go into the dining room. Dinner’s basically ready,” you offered as the lamiest attempt to escape the spotlight of them. You held your hand out for his coat, giving both men a perfect view of your ass as you turned to hang it in the closet. 

You didn’t attempt to hide the grin at the quiet but distinguishable wolf whistle from Michael. It felt good to know he liked what he saw. 

And the feeling was most certainly mutual. Michael and Aaron kept you laughing all through dinner as they enthralled you with stories from set. He was engaging and funny and you loved the genuine brotherhood between him and your boyfriend. There was nothing but raw sexual chemistry between you but that was all you needed. Mutual attraction.

The only disappointing aspect of dinner was the utter silence between your legs. Once he turned it off at the start of dinner, Aaron didn’t touch that remote again, much to your chagrin. Two hours and several glasses of wine at the dinner table with two men gently caressing your arms and exposed thighs was a recipe for disaster. And you knew he could tell, see how worked up they had made you, how desperately you wanted more attention. 

By dessert, you stopped retaining their words. They were utter nonsense to you because there were far more important things to consider. Like Michael’s dominating muscles and large hands, wondering how strong his grip will be when he fucks you from behind. Punishingly so, you prayed. 

You swung between wanting to savor the compliments and worship of two men with needing to be filled, a need that almost had you begging them to fuck you right amongst the dinner plates. But you knew Aaron. The night was young and he liked to play with his prize. 

By everyone’s fifth glass of wine, the conversation started to wind down, Michael getting up to head home. 

“Thanks so much for this, man. Appreciate the invite. Good to catch up n shit.”

“Oh you have to leave so soon?” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, coupled with the pleas of your signature puppy eyes. 

“I probably should… Gettin’ late, can’t take up your whole night.” 

You assessed the moment briefly, confirming with every cell in your body and functioning brain cell in your head that you needed this more than the oxygen in the room. 

So instead of wishing this walking wet dream a good night, you said, “You should stay for one more drink. We got this amazing bottle when we went to the South of France for our anniversary. Baby, we should open it and sit outside? It’s so nice out. We’re down to keep the good times going if you are.” 

“You sure?”

“I insist! Besides, between the three of us, I think we can find some ways to entertain ourselves." The implication in your words couldn't be clearer. You were in and you were ready. 

“I’ll grab that bottle from the cellar. Take Michael outside and make him comfortable, princess. Show him a good time while I’m gone.”

And with that, he turned your vibrator back on. He chose the second setting, which was just distracting enough to make the simple tasks of walking, talking and speaking exponentially harder for you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You forced your feet toward the giant sliding glass doors that led to your expansive backyard. You glanced behind you to find Michael jogging up behind you as he slid something into his pocket.

You tried to distract yourself from the pulses against your g-spot, the growing tension in your belly as pleasure started to build ever so slowly, by turning on the soft string lights hanging above your patio and the speakers to play music. 

“Yall got a great view.” 

“It was definitely the selling point of the house,” you smiled, awkwardly standing behind one of the chairs across from the couch.

His stance was wide, powerful and assured as he stared at you. 

“You gonna sit with me?” When you didn’t move, he sighed. “He said you were obedient. But maybe you just need an incentive…” 

Your knees almost gave out beneath you as he increased the setting to five. 

“If you wanna feel better, I think you should sit, baby girl,” he offered, his voice low and comforting. “I don’t bite, promise.”

The menacing glint in his eyes let you know that he most certainly would bite if asked. And you would most certainly ask. 

“S-sorry,” you awkwardly, quickly finding your way to the couch next to him. You started to sit when he beckoned you closer with a mere gesture of his finger. By the time he had you where he wanted you, you were sitting on his lap. 

You leaned into his chest, your eyes falling closed as pleasure shot through you with every pulsing vibration. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid moaning. 

“You ok, Y/N? Seem a little flustered?” His fingers created flames all across your bare thigh as he subtly pushed up the fabric of your dress. 

There was still something… tamed about how he touched you and caressed you. He came so close to the spots that demanded a firm strong hand, he held back every time. Like right now. Drawing featherlike patterns on your exposed side, toying with the edges of your thong but not shifting them to the side like you craved. 

No, he simply savored the time teasing you, enjoying the soft moans his touch and the bullet caused. 

“I’... I’m… fine, t-thank you,” you whispered back. “Just… o-overwhelmed.” 

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” his husky voice demanded in your ear. At the sound, you couldn't suppress the moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. You rolled your hips, chasing more.

“Y-Yes…” you whimpered. “P-Please…” 

“How’s my girl treating you, Michael?” Aaron’s voice interrupted their moment, his eyes piercing with desire as you writhed and rode another man's thigh. You looked perfect, unrestrained and free. 

“Oh she’s perfect. You got a great girl here, A.”

“I know… she is. But she disobeyed me earlier so before she can cum, we have to punish her. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Y-yes sir.” You didn’t even know what you did wrong but you weren’t going to argue or push back on him. Because this was already like entering a promised land of bliss. To hear him speak so openly about your punishment to another man while he masturbated you on his lap? Aaron was right. This was the destressor you really required. 

“Can you tell Michael and daddy what you did wrong, princess?” 

You raked your brain, knowing that “I don’t know” would only increase your punishment. Not that you would have particularly minded. Frequent punishments were simply the norm for a proud and loud brat. 

And then it hit you, such a small and silly infraction that Michael’s fingers were currently playing with. 

“I… w-wore my panties w-when I wasn’t allowed,” you answered. 

“That’s right. And we don’t cover up daddy’s prize, do we?” 

“No… daddy.” 

“You want to be a good girl for Michael and I… don’t you?”  

His voice was hypnotic. Despite the pleasure disobeying him brought, you could not help but want to please him, to be his good girl again. 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

“And good girls deserve what?” 

“Punishment before pleasure.” 

“That’s right, baby. So tonight, Michael’s gonna have the honor. How many spankings you think our slut deserves?” 

“I’d say 25… 30?” 

“30 feels fair. What do you think, princess?” 

“Wh-whatever daddy wants,” you whimpered. That was the only acceptable response. Besides, you knew Aaron knew your limits and wouldn’t let Michael cross them.  “That's right, baby girl. She can be good when she wants to, just needs remindin’ of her place sometimes,” he mused. And with that, Michael turned off the bullet, a groan of pure frustration escaping your lips.

Punishment before pleasure, you reminded yourself. Why can’t my punishment be sucking their dicks or something?? 

Michael helped you up, your legs feeling slightly weak after they robbed you of your orgasm. They didn’t bother trying to carry you up the stairs, Michael merely directed you to your deep forest green sectional in the living room and leaned you over one of its arms. He slid off his belt and tied your hands behind your back, ensuring they were loose enough to avoid injury but tight enough not to escape without effort. 

You were deliciously helpless. 

“Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight,” you could hear Michael mutter as the two men merely stared at you, boobs pressed out due to your hands being bound, your ass high in the air from being bent over. “Her ass is perfect, man.”

“It’ll look even better when you’re done. Don’t hold back. She loves that shit and she knows our safe word.” 

You were glad he assured Michael that you would adore the sweet sting of his palm. You encouraged Aaron to put his entire weight into your spankings when you took on the role as his princess. Forever a gentle soul at his core, he did not like the idea of causing you real, significant pain, preferring to lean heavily into other aspects of dominating you. 

It certainly made you fall more in love with him, witnessing his gentleness and concern for your well-being to such a degree. You supposed it was the greenest of flags that it took about 10 long discussions for him to feel comfortable. And even years later, he still checked in throughout to make sure you still enjoyed it. You weren’t a masochist by any means spankings in particular were more than enticing to you. It left you drenched and on the cusp on an orgasm without Aaron doing anything else. 

Even more so right now with your ass presented to the two men like a hard-earned prize. You subconsciously stuck your ass out further in search of something. A touch, a slap… literally anything. Your body was reeling. 

And you did not even care who was behind you to give you what you needed.

“She’s fuckin’ desperate for it.” 

“Yea, she’ll be begging you for it in a minute. I mean I was gone for what? 5 minutes, princess? And I come back and you're humpin' his leg like a filthy whore? And you loved it didn't you? Wanted more? I bet you wanna beg him to tear that ass up right now, don't you?” 

Daddy knows me too well. Because the word please was on the cusp of your lips, begging to tumble over like water on a cliff. 

You moaned as two hands gripped the firm meat of your ass, kneading and caressing you before they found the helm of your dress. You knew exactly whose hands they were, confirming that Aaron was indeed giving Michael the pleasure of administering your punishment. 

His fingers pushed your dress up the rest of the way to expose your ass cheeks, an unmistakable wet spot at the center of your thong. 

“Don’t think she’ll be needing this anymore. Whatchu think?” Michael asked Aaron as his finger hooked the delicate fabric around her hips. 

“Nahhh, definitely not.” 

“FUCK!” You cried out as your thong was unceremoniously ripped clean from your body, the fabric leaving welts on your skin. 

You felt his fingers graze your lips.

“All this for us, kitten?” 

You merely whimpered an affirmative answer as he presented his fingers covered in your juices. He stuck them in your mouth, you sucking your cum clean off his fingers.

"Can't wait to make you cum all over my tongue, kitten. You taste so fuckin' good."

“P-Please…” You thought you’d implode if you continued to suppress your desperation. Your body felt as if you were betraying her. Why weren’t you trying hard enough, begging loud enough to earn the pleasure you were being deprived of. 

“See?” 

“You weren’t lyin’. Tell me what you want, kitten”  

He’s gonna make me say it?? 

The words were caught in your throat, blocked by a mental barrier to admit such a depraved thought out loud. 

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I suggest you say that shit. Cause we got all night.” 

The lethal warning in his tone forced your thighs together, an electric shock through your body. He was a natural. And the dominance in his voice was all it took to rip the weeds of hesitation right out of your soil. 

“S-spank me… please,” Half words, half sobs filled the quiet air. This was untenable. Could you die from this? It felt like you might die from this. “I n-need it. P-Punish me… please.” 

The first vicious sting of his hand did make a real sob of joy escape, the sound reverberating through the living room. 

You buried your face in the couch cushion for the first few in a foolish attempt to quiet your mounting screams of pain wrapped in the sweet pleasure. His brute strength ensured you felt the ache of every hit. On par with Aaron when your punishments were severe. You were still feeling it days later. 

Your head pulled back, his fist wrapped around your curls.

“Do that again and I add five. Understand?” 

“Y-yes, yes. I’m sorry,” you moan, keeping your eyes forward and head up. 

You felt familiar hands cradle your head, Michael releasing your strains to play with your slick folds in between each blow. 

Aaron’s body came into view as he held your chin, forcing you to stare into his beautiful eyes. Clouded with lust, you still could see every ounce of his love and devotion. 

“You ok, precious?” he whispered. “Got 10 more.” 

“M-More.”

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. I love you.” His eyes softened a bit. “You want a treat while Michael gives you your punishment? I wouldn’t usually but tonight is all about you, princess.” 

You licked your lips, the sudden sparkle in your eyes answering his question without words. You were impatient at the pace he went to unbutton his pants. 

He knew how much you loved sucking dick. Genuinely loved it. On more than one occasion, you came home after a long day and immediately dropped to your knees to serve him unprompted. Of course, it always ended up leading to him giving you back the same pleasure tenfold. So it was a win all around. 

You licked the beads of precum from his head before enveloping him into your mouth, moaning around him just as Michael rained down the last of your punishment. 

Fire. Your skin felt hot and inflamed with every bite of his palm against your skin. And they sent jolts of lust straight to your clit. 

“You’re taking your punishment so well. You’re not gonna disobey me again, are you?” 

Strings of your spit stayed connected to his dick as he pulled back so you could answer him. 

“Never again, daddy!”  

“That’s my good girl. You took that so well. Didn’t she?” 

You hissed as he gently massaged your hot skin. Fuck, why did his hands feel so good? 

“She did. You think she’s ready, A?” 

“I think she is.” 

You found a secret joy in the way they spoke only to you to dole out orders, but then talked about you to each other like you were merely a piece of furniture.

Aaron scooped you up in his arms, your body immediately nestling into his chest as he carried you to your master suite. He tossed you on the bed like a rag doll as Michael closed the door to your suite. And for a few moments, they simply stood there. Towering over you, intoxicated by the power and anticipation, they didn’t speak or move. They just watched you squirm beneath them. 

“You know I love you right?” Aaron broke character for a single moment. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Cause it ain’t gon' seem like it for a minute. You know how daddy wants you.” 

Fuck. Yes. 

There was a challenging grin on your face as you removed the last obstacle to their conquest, leaving you bare before them. With great pleasure, you shifted onto your hands and knees and sank into position. Presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable, exposed. To two apex predators. 

And you were ready to be devoured. 

Michael pounced with such swiftness of jaguar indeed, you suddenly finding yourself straddling his hips. His punishing grip around your lower back kept you flush to his chest as his lips claimed yours. 

Frenzied, animalistic, downright sloppy kisses as you two gave into your most base desires. There was no love here, just lust in its most instinctual level. You two fought for dominance in your kisses, you mainly showing him that you were no damsel.

He moved you with ease, like you were a feather, turning you so your head dangled off the edge of the bed.

“I think our kitten needs a bit of attention.” 

His lips kissed a burning trail down your body, veering off course to engulf each of your nipples in his wet mouth, while his hand played with your throbbing clit. 

You whined, feeling his breath against your sex, his grip holding your hips firmly to the bed to stop you from getting any more pleasure than he decided. 

“So eager.” 

He licked up the wetness that spread to your thighs, still avoiding touching you there. He was a menace. The devil really.

You screamed as he wrapped his lips around your bud, every nerve ending in your body zeroed in on him.  

Aaron guided your agape mouth onto his hard member again, your tongue licking him like he was your favorite lollipop. He exchanged the bullet for his fingers, easing a second one inside your pussy. 

Your litany of curse words were indecipherable with Aaron’s mouth ramming down your throat. He did not let you control the pace one bit. Your mouth was merely a means to an end for him. 

You gagged, tears streaming down your face from the sensory overload of having them work in tandem to bring you pain, pleasure, and everything in between.

You arrived at the cliffs of pleasure far faster than you expected, your body ready to fall for the first time all night. Your thighs tightened around Michael’s head as you tried to control it. Foolish it sounded, to stop the fall. But you couldn’t tumble just yet. 

You didn’t stop your task of sucking to ask. Instead, you simply stared up at him with plea-filled round eyes.

“Cum on his tongue, princess. Cum for daddy.” 

You dove off the cliff with earnest as Michael chose that moment to add a fourth finger, finger fucking you with relentless speed.You let your eyes fall close and surrendered to the crashing waves and thrilling currents that pulled you into oblivion. Right where you wanted to be. 

Only Aaron could find the cherry on top to this already perfect sundae as he spilled down your throat. It was typically reserved for her treat as he knew you adored swallowing. And you were grateful he found you deserving. 

Aaron took a step back, you pouting at the loss of his dick in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, princess. Won’t be your last taste for the night.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply, a soft whimper escaping at how familiar his lips felt. Home. “I think you need to thank Michael for punishing you earlier and making you cum. How do good whores say thank you?” 

"On their knees, daddy."

You moved off the bed and onto the carpet, Michael already sliding off his boxers. Your voice hitched as his girthy thick member sprang from his boxers.

He smirked told her he knew what he was wielding and how to use it well. Admittedly, you had only had sex with three men in your life, two of whom were present. But you felt confident in saying these two Gods among lesser men had the most impressive dicks you’d ever seen. 

You’d never live down the humiliation of your near panic attack during you and Aaron’s first time. 

“I don’t think you’ll fit,” you remember muttering before trying to escape to hide in his bathroom, your brain overloaded with the fear that he would somehow break you. 

But like the perfect gentlemen he was, he held you close and calmed you with sweet kisses and talked you through every inch as he sank into you for the first time. He naturally reached regions you thought were anatomically impossible. You often referred to it as his weapon, one that left you utterly immobile too often. 

Michael was similarly blessed and highly favored. Though he lacked a bit of Aaron’s length, his had a girth to it that you knew would cause a stinging stretch. It would be different and you liked the idea of that. As much as your body wanted to skip to that part, you also were feral for a taste of him. 

Aaron sat in the arm chair across the room, the perfect view to watch as Michael slid his dick between your plump lips. He stroked his dick back to life watching you spit and gulp down his dick.

“That’s right. Fuckkkk. Get it sloppy, baby girl. Fuck your throat feels good.” 

Your body glowed at his praise, Aaron grinning to himself. He adored seeing you in this light, gaining a new perspective to how you felt freedom and pleasure. He never wanted to stop learning how to love you better, please you better. 

Inexplicable pride swelled when your eyes connected with him, your dilated pupils lighting up at his smile.

“You ready for me to fuck that pussy, kitten?” Michael demanded, punctuating each word with a deep thrust into the back of your throat. Attempting to respond was a foolish endeavor with him balls deep down your throat. 

He pulled out of your mouth and lifted you up to your feet, immediately moving you into his desired position. He bent you over the edge of the bed, one hand glued to your hip while the other pushed your head into the mattress. He positioned you so you were staring right at Aaron.  

Being watched. New kink unlocked. You were an actress on display and he was your director, in full control. And it was time to watch his masterpiece. 

Your eyes fluttered out of enticing humiliation and bliss as Michael’s head bounced against your pulsing clit. 

“Eyes open, princess. And on me."

And this was a moment that made you question who you truly were. A good girl or a disobedient slut? The devil on your shoulder didn’t need deliberation time. You were a disobedient whore. You wanted to be utterly spent when this night was over. 

But you also knew he knew that, which is why he picked a task he knew you’d fail either way. You could try as hard as you wanted, it would be impossible to maintain eye contact. 

“You ready for Michael to fuck you, princess?” 

“Yesssss! Fuck me… I need it.” It was as critical to your survival as air. 

You immediately failed at your task, your eyes clenching shut as he pushed inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hissed, begging for the moment when the lightening flash of pain subsided and pleasure took root. 

“Fuckin’ tight ass pussy on you, kitten,” he gave you a few moments to adjust. When your expletives turned into quiet moans, he moved. 

"Won't tell you this shit again, princess. Eyes open and on me or I start spankin’ you when it’s my turn. And you ain’t gon’ like that shit.” 

“Sorryyyy, dadddyyyyy.” 

His hips snapped viciously into you, his dick curving into your g-spot with every thrust. 

Bliss. 

Joy. 

You panted as  he fucked you with relentless precision, he didn’t let a moment go to waste as he fucked you. His grip along your hip was bruising as he pushed and pulled against your body. Never the lazy lover, you met every thrust, using your arms as leverage to throw your fat ass back at him. 

“That’s it! Take this dick, slut! You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??” he demanded, a hard smack coming down on your still aching ass when you didn’t answer fast enough. 

There was no way he actually believed you could form coherent thoughts right now. 

“I… love it! D-... don’t stop! Fuck… I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes had not stayed on your master as they should’ve, nor had you even tried that hard. But you deliberately cast them on him to beg for permission. “C-Can I cum daddy?? He feels so gooddddd…” 

“Why the fuck would I let you cum? You disobedient whore? Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions. 

Well shit. He was pissed. 

Your face was one of sadness at upsetting your daddy but everything inside was filled to the brim with glee. You weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. And then you could look forward to a day of aftercare and pampering from your love. 

“P-please, please. I-I’m sorry!! I tried. I-I can’t…” Michael was not helping your cause as you pleaded your case in front of a less than sympathetic judge. He found some superhuman ability to increase his already punishing pace, jackhammering into your g-spot. “Let me cum, pleasseeeee! I can’t hold it.” 

“She’s clenchin’ on my dick, brah.” 

You were going to cum either way, inevitably, but you were holding strong for those magic words. Moments before you felt yourself starting to break, you finally heard him.

“Cum for me.” 

“She’s creamin’ on this dick. This some good pussy, my man! You one lucky nigga.” He didn’t slow his pace as he fucked you through your second orgasm. "That's right, cum all over this dick, baby."

How were you not spent yet? No, you still wanted so much more. 

You lost track of your orgasms as Michael moved you into his desired positions, fucking you every type of way that suited him. And all the while, Aaron just watched, commanding your eyes to him in the moments leading up to your orgasms, forcing you to hold his gaze across the dark room. 

You thought the Earth had reversed on its axis somehow. 

“I’ll let you decide where you want it, kitten. On you or down your throat.” 

“Cum on my ass!” 

“Whatever baby girl wants.” He pulled out of you and sprayed your back and ass cheeks with his seed. You sighed out of contentment as you laid there, knowing your night was far from over. But you were grateful for the brief reprieve. 

Michael shifted off to the side as Aaron rejoined you, the Brit studying your ass painted in another man’s cum. If there was a way be any harder than he already was, he would be it right now. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, princess. I love you so much, you’re such a good girl for me. You ready for daddy, now?” 

You nodded enthusiastically. Michael was amazing but no one fucked you quite like Aaron. Those were the simple facts. 

“Good girl,” he flipped you and pushed your legs up so your knees were essentially up at your ears. 

This was a frankly evil thing to do, to start with this position. It was simplistic but he would pound you so deep, you saw fucking stars. At this rate, you would be tapping out far earlier than you would have hoped. 

“Ahhhh! Yessssss… thank you daddy! Love your dick, daddy!” You screamed as he entered you in one fluid motion, ending deep in your guts. 

“You take me so well, baby. You like how deep I’m fuckin’ this pussy?” 

“Yes, yes! Shit! God I love it! Oh Goddddd, fuck, baby…” 

“Ain’t no God to call out to here, princess. Just your masters.”

You gasped at the sudden all consuming emptiness of him exiting you. You felt his hand catch your ankle, which was still in the air where he left you. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and lifted you to your feet. You almost collapsed on your stiff legs but you quickly realized, he was not intending for you to support your own weight long. 

He hinged you at the waist, your fingertips supporting balancing some of your weight until he reentered you and regained control of your hips. He did all the work, holding all your weight with his strength as he fucked you straight into a sweet abyss. Nothing else mattered. Just the two of you. 

Well… three of you. Speaking of which… as if Aaron could read her mind, he says, “Suck him like the whore I know you are.” 

Using his strength to turn you both so you were eye level with Michael’s dick. He was getting hard, rested and ready for round two with ease. Both men looked as if they could do this all night while you knew you looked like you had been fucked just as good as you felt. 

You surrendered your mouth to Michael, allowing the actor to face fuck you to his heart’s content. And you simply enjoyed every moment of them fucking your holes like men possessed. No breaks, no time for breaths. Nothing. Just unforgiving feral fucking. 

You didn’t bother counting the orgasms they gave you as the two men traded places multiple times, using your mouth and pussy to their heart’s content. They worked up a perfect rhythm that brought you thrilling moment after thrilling moment  

“Don’t run, fuckin’ whore! You been takin’ it all night. Came in here with that fuckin' attitude. Take this dick!” Aaron ordered as you shied away from his forceful thrusts as he fucked you doggy style. 

Your body was being driven past overload as they stimulated every part of you. You could barely concentrate on Michael’s dick in front of your face with how Aaron was fucking you, clearly getting the last word of the evening. 

You thought you knew what overstimulation felt like but you had no fucking idea until today. But you knew the orgasm you were building toward would be your best yet, would be worth every moment of this. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum!” Michael called out. 

“I’m close too. Daddy’s gonna cum in this sweet pussy, baby. But first, your other punishment. Cum as much as you want.” 

And with that, he and Michael went utterly and completely feral on your body, chasing one goal: their collective simultaneous pleasure. 

Michael grunted as he painted your face in his cum, much of it landing in your open mouth. He collapsed on the bed next to you, your body immediately crumbling forward without him holding you up. He caressed your skin as Aaron mercilessly fucked you, matching every thrust of his hips forward with a harsh slap to your ass. You knew you would have to endure as many as it took for him to cum.

Shit. You really fucked up.

You screamed and squealed, Michael roughly making out with you and sucked and bit your titties as if you needed more. You and Aaron reached the peaks of your mountains at the same time. At the warmth of him filling your pussy, white blanketed in your vision and sent you free falling into a new stratosphere.

Time felt inconceivable when you opened your eyes again. In your mind, no time had passed but instead of being on the bed, you were surrounded by warmth. Warm water lapped over your aching muscles, something hard propping you up from behind. 

“What’s…” you started to say, trying to lift up when a muscular arm snaked around your chest to hold you flush to him. 

“Relax, relax, princess. You’re good. Take a breath. Just blacked on us for a minute.” 

His voice calmed all the uneasy waters of your soul, you were safe and home with him. There was no better place to be in this life or the next. 

“Where’s… our guest?” Your voice cracked from the overuse of your throat. You rubbed your neck instinctively. 

“I’ll make you some tea when we get out,” he kissed your temple. “And he passed out in one of the guest rooms. I may have told him there was a strong possibility you’d be up for another round in an hour or two. Told me to get him when you finish soakin’ so he can give you a massage.” 

And you knew exactly where the yellow brick road of a massage would lead: to the Emerald Fucking City of Round 4.  

Your libido was just as high, if not higher than Aaron’s. More than once, it had been you demanding rounds 4-6 after he already wore you out during 1-3.

“One day you’re gonna get it wrong, you know?” you tease, allowing your head and back to rest with ease onto his chest. His hands massaged your hips and thighs and breasts, all sore from their spanking and biting. “That feels soooo good. You got the magic touch, baby.” 

  You ok, love? We were rough on you.” 

“More than ok. That was the most… insane and fun thing I’ve ever done. Exactly what I needed and wanted. Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Anything for you, princess. Rest for me, love.” 

You allowed your eyes to flutter closed again, dozing in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as he continued releasing knots from your muscles. You simply laid there with him, savoring him and the afterglow of being his. 

However, after about 15 minutes, you had rested long enough. This night would end eventually, you wanted to make the most of it with your two daddies. 

“Daddy… I think I’m ready for that massage now,” your eyes glistened with your true intentions, letting Aaron know that you were no close to done. 

He let out a low chuckle of disbelief. “You really are one of a kind, Y/N.” 

“I know,” you winked at him with a playful grin. “Now massage, please.,” you demanded like the spoiled brat you were.

Aaron got out of the bath first, his entire body glistening with water on every perfect panel of muscle and taunt skin. Was it nice being a bead of water sliding down that skin? It might be nice to be a bead of water on his skin. 

He quickly toweled himself off before helping you up, using his arms around you as your legs shook. 

He dried you before laying you back down on the bed, disappearing down the hall while you laid on your stomach and simply waited. 

“Well well well… couldn’t get enough could you, kitten?” 

You heard them before you saw them. 

“No sir.” 

“She’s insatiable. Makes her a good little whore for me, doesn’t it, princess?”

You felt their weight on both sides of the bed. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whined as their fingers started doing the Lord’s work massaging out every knot and kink buried in your limbs. 

You turned your head toward Aaron, reaching up and kissing him softly as a private thank you before laying down again. You closed your eyes and let them work, let them take care of you. 

Whoever said “three’s a crowd” clearly hadn’t met these two.

Tag list: @hxneyclouds @planetblaque @slutsareteacherstoo @theereina @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @apenasumlug4r @motheroffae @blackerthings @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @melaninpov @hiwasteland @yamst3rdamctrl @miyuhpapayuh @dxddykenn @sageispunk @atribecalledqwest @4pfsukuna @beenathembo @throwmymbackout @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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A/N: Hoped you enjoyed that as much as I did! Thanks for reading!

[theereina]

Well, here's the official sneak peek for Toxic babydaddy!Terry Richmond on his normal bs for the new year. Enjoy!

Taglist: @episodes-ff @babybratzmaraj @persethegawd @pocketsizedpanther @kimuzostar @writingsbytee @confessionsofadramaqueenn