#dom!terry Richmond

[fictioninmyblood]

Back to Bed

Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.

After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.

WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, pre-smut, angst

A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.

A/N: There will be at least a part 2. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.

Y/N had been napping peacefully in the spare bedroom when she heard her kids start screaming excitedly, waking her all the way out her sleep in panic. Once she identified their squeals as gleeful she relaxed, but decided it would be in her best interest to check and see what all the commotion was about. Imagine her surprise when she entered their living room to see her parents sitting on the couch with her kids talking over one another and Terry coming downstairs with their weekend-trips-backpacks. The moment she locked eyes with her husband, Y/N gulped, somehow understanding exactly what was going on behind those piercing eyes. Her father had been too wrapped up in the kids, but her mother saw her daughter the instant she entered the room, her motherly instincts in overdrive. 

As soon as Terry let them in she could see that he was even more exhausted than usual, his reliably calm demeanor obviously frazzled. Whenever they usually came to pick up the kids at his request, everything was already packed and ready, the kids fed the most recent meal or snack, and Terry had them waiting by the door. Y/N was usually who they waited on. It was completely out of character to have to wait for him to finish getting them ready or be told they haven't eaten at least a snack so far into the afternoon. Dinner was around the corner and school had been out for at least 2 hours. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. She watched the unspoken conversation happen between the two when he came back downstairs and hoped that Terry asking them to take the kids to hang out with them overnight would help to resolve whatever marital issues they were having. Her daughter looked just as bad as her son-in-law and judging by the fact she looked like she just woke up and came from their guest bedroom rather than the masters upstairs that was no surprise. Her daughter had always slept better cuddled up next to someone her whole life and Terry had become the ultimate sleeping aid when they met. She’d had to stock up on his clothes for the times he was away while in the military just to get a wink, conditioning her body to accept no one’s presence but his to help her sleep.

“Hey baby, how are you?” Y/N’s mother asked.

Y/N tried to muster a smile but felt how off it was, she hoped her mom wouldn’t ask further questions when she said, “I’m fine mommy. What are you guys doing here? I thought we were going to see you on Sunday for the family barbecue.”

Y/N walked over to her parents to hug and kiss them, she sat next to her mom and leaned her head on her shoulder when her mom kept rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and welcomed the affection, it’d been weeks of forcing herself to not seek Terry out for physical contact and it had been hell. That was her top love language and as much as she loved them, kid hugs and kisses only went so far. 

“You sure baby? You look tired.”

Y/N locked eyes with Terry again and sighed, “Yeah ma, I’m sure.”

Her father answered her question when he said, “Terry thought it might be a good idea if they had the opportunity to hang out with all the cousins that live nearby that’ll be hanging out tomorrow. Plus I’m sure he’d like some alone time with his wife. It’s been too long since you two have asked for a weekend anyway so it’s no problem.”

“Oh okay. That sounds nice,” she lied through her teeth, avoiding eye contact with Terry at all costs at this point. Diverting her attention she said, “You excited babies?”

She smiled the first genuine one since coming out of the room at the chorus of yes’s that graced her ears.

“Well I got everything in the car, carseat included,” Terry said, closing the front door behind himself, “and here’s some funds for the weekend.” He slipped some money into her father’s hand before he could register what’d been put there.

Her father looked down at what Terry gave him and got up to try and give it back. “Son, we do this everytime.”

“Then you should know that you’re leaving here with that money.”

Her father clapped Terry on the shoulder and they shared some chuckles as he couldn’t do anything, but shake his head and shake his son-inlaw’s hand. Not once since they had kids did Terry ever ask his parents-in-law to watch the kids without making sure they had a good chunk of change. The twins alone had been a handle full and a half since birth but babygirl turned their little hurricanes into big ones. He knew that whenever his wife tried she couldn’t win that argument so he’d made a point to be the one who did to keep the balance they both sought.

“Right you are son. Can’t blame an old man for trying though.”

“I can’t,” Terry said still chuckling. Thank you,” he looked to his mother-in-law as she stood up beside her husband, “both of you. We really need this.” 

Y/N’s mom laid her hand on his face and said, “Anytime. You two need to take care of yourselves and each other first more often.” She moved towards the door trying to make this as short as possible. “Now let’s get family, leave these two lovebirds to nest alone.”

Terry and Y/N smiled at each other for the first time in weeks at the sound and sight of their kids saying “ewww” and fake gagging. It brought a pang to Y/N’s heart and she immediately frowned at the realization that they hadn’t seen or heard those reactions in too long.

She stayed seated, the kids coming up one by one to give their mommy a goodbye hug and kiss before they left, as Terry stood holding the door open and hugging and kissing everyone on the way out the door. She damn near cried when her mom kissed her on the forehead, the silent sign that her mom knew something was wrong and they would talk about it later. When Terry finally shut the door and turned around to stare her down all that had been left unspoken seemed to come out from the shadows and sit between them.

“Y/N, kitten?” Terry asked. She stopped looking past him at the door and finally looked at him at the pet name. He had his arms folded and was gripping his biceps to keep from rushing to touch his wife who hadn’t given him permission to touch her in the 5 weeks since she moved to the guest bedroom. They hadn’t played together in over 6 months, her figurative silence having been brewing longer than the weeks she was literally silent. She knew that he was asking for permission with the declaration, handing over his control of the situation with just the two names. 

She gulped and whispered back, “Yes, big daddy?”

Terry let out a sigh of relief and released the hold he had on his arms, his hope restored that he hadn’t lost her. He still had a chance to fix this.

“It feels nice to hear you address me again, I’ve missed your voice little one,” he said as he walked towards his wife while rolling up the sleeves on his long sleeve shirt. He had turned the air up a few hours prior and put on the shirt in preparation of this moment. Y/N had a weakness for his arms and hands - over the years he’s learned that wearing long sleeves was the best way to use that to his advantage. With the way her breath hitched, her nipples pebbled beneath her outfit, and she got stuck eyeing his movements was a sight for sore eyes, it’d been too long since she let herself look at him like that. Since she got out of her head long enough for her body respond to him as it had always naturally done. In fact he knew the reason she had been avoiding him and sleeping in the guest room was because he was always able to get back in her good graces with just a few moments of existing. Any of their disagreements always ended with her folding no matter how mad she was throughout their whole relationship, so these last few weeks were a megaphone announcement that she was not playing around this time. 

“Huh kitten?” 

Y/N had no idea what words were coming out her husband’s mouth. Her pulsing pussy was ringing in her ears and she was lost in thinking about everything those hands could and would do to her. By the time she focused on his words again, Terry was standing in front of her grasping her chin to look him in his mesmerizing eyes.

“Did you even hear what I asked you?”

She gulped again and shook her head no. Curse this man and the hold he had on her. 6 weeks of holding out, staying quiet, and standing ten toes down on her frustrations, and all it took for her to let him back in was a few words and him rolling up his sleeves. Terry hadn’t even done anything yet and she knew that no matter how right she was, no matter how much she wanted to maintain her resolve, and no matter what Terry finally told her about what happened, she would be forgiving him. Hell, she already had the moment she walked into the living room to see her parents.

Terry repeated himself. “I said I missed hearing you address me little one. Did you know that? How much I’ve been aching to hear you speak to me, to be able to touch you. I have permission to touch you now though, don’t I kitten?”

“Ye-,” Y/N had to clear her throat, though it did nothing to clear the lust that had changed her voice to the breathy thing it was, “Yes big daddy.”

“Yes you know how much I’ve been aching or yes I have permission?”

“Yes to both big daddy.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “How did you know lil mama? We haven’t been talking so I haven’t had time to tell you.”

“Cause I’ve been aching too,” she squeaked out while the wiggle of her hips increased as she tried to create friction with her thighs. Y/N the woman could not help her right now, the only one present was the submissive.

“Have you? I couldn’t tell kitten.” Terry’s neutral expression turned into a frown as he cupped the base of her skull, gripping her locs to pull her head back, eliciting a moan from Y/N as her eyes slid close.

When Y/N opened her eyes again she was met with the fire behind Terry’s eyes and though it wasn’t what she was trying to do, it brought her great joy to see the dom in Terry. Not the soft one he’d been using as a shield, but the real dom, the one she fell in love with all those years ago. It had been entirely too long since he’d come out to play and she was starved. She nodded her head yes.

“Well you’ve done too good of a job hiding it from me these last few months mamas. I think it’s time we fixed that, don’t you?” he asked.

Y/N nodded again, best she could and Terry couldn’t help himself. He slapped her with an open palm, not to hurt her but to bring her focus back and make himself clear as he spoke, his voice deepening with the lust that now clouded every fibre of his being. “Words kitten. You will use them or I will stop.”

“No!”

Terry’s grip on her hair tightened and he raised an eyebrow.

Y/N stuttered to correct herself. “I mean no big daddy, please don’t stop. I’ll use my words.”

“Good. Now we will have that conversation and I will tell you everything you’ve been begging to know, consequences be damned, but I need to release some pent up energy and I know you do too. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes big daddy.”

Terry loosened his grip slightly and his face softened as he took in his wife, hanging onto every word, listening with all of her attention, already neck deep in subspace. “I don’t think you understand.”

“I do, I promise.”

Terry closed his eyes and shook his head. He was terrified, she was too trusting, too ready to give herself over to him for his release. She had no idea how much anger and grief he’d been storing these last few years and he had no idea what letting himself go to indulge would look like anymore. He’d been afraid of himself since the day the Chief handed him that money and he knew before ever seeing with his eyes that Mike was dead. “No you don’t. Kitten, I got a monster that I’ve been hiding from you, hell from myself half the time too, and I know I said I’ll explain later but I gotta make sure you’re warned properly before you agree. I don’t know if I can maintain my control tonight, it’s been too long-”

Y/N cut off his speech to start her own. Briefly breaking character for a moment, she laid a hand on his face and said “Terrance.” His eyes welled with tears he had to do everything to keep from falling when she continued. “I have waited almost 4 years for you to trust me with these shadow parts of yourself. I’ve been missing the version of you who trusted himself enough to allow me to be his release for almost 4 years. I don’t just miss my husband, I don’t just miss my dom, I miss you. Having access to all of you. I trust you.”

One rouge tear escaped and Y/N wiped it away before it make it too far down his face and stood cupping his face with both hands. Terry let his hands fall to her love handles as she kissed him and he let out a deep groan at the sight of her kneeling at his feet, clasping her hands together at the base of her spine and looking up at him with an expression that matched her declaration. “I’m ready big daddy. Do what you will.”

Terry wiped at his face and with his head thrown back he let out a long, “fuck.” Now that he’d started them down this road, he had a feeling that she was going to make him go the distance and it made him feral. His monster had been wanted out, but she just waved a proverbial red flag in front of him. She wanted to meet his monsters so bad? Bet. They wanted to devour her anyway and now, looking at her offering herself up so pretty, he would let them.

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 1

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Desperately at your absolute limit, you decide to see one last therapist to try and help with your condition. After one session, Dr. Richmond manages to put you at ease, giving you enough tools to start you on your journey. As the exploration continues, your true hope is that you don’t get burned.

Word Count: 4,648k

AO3 Link | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Don't judge me for this chile. I saw that beautiful man in a black turtleneck with glasses and lost my marbles. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

He came highly recommended. That was the only reason you were here. You’d stared at his pictures and read all of the available posts recommending him but you couldn’t get over the fact that he was so damn pretty. And intimidating. 

But after going through nine different therapists, most who ended up as creeps or couldn’t help you, you were at your wit’s end. It was already embarrassing enough starting over with a brand new therapist, but this had to take the cake. 

The hallway was quiet, with muted browns and reds. Supposedly academic, soothing colors. As if the darker the color, the less likely you were to think about anything sexual. You stared at the imposing brown door with his name embossed on a placard. Dr. Terry Richmond. 

You bit your lip and stared at the slip in your hand with the referral scrawled across it. He took on special cases. Pathetic cases. 

“Fuck this,” you said to yourself. You turned on your heel and stepped down the hallway. The door opened and the man himself looked down the hallway. 

“Are you my two o’clock?” He asked. His deep baritone was unexpected. Soothing. Calming. Unnerving. 

“Uh,” you sighed.

He continued to stare so you continued to stare back. He wore an all black outfit, right down to his black tennis shoes. He wore a long sleeved black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black, form fitting pants that only highlighted how tall he was. He had to be 6’1. Hell, possibly 6’3. 

He cleared his throat, looking for an answer. Light refracted off of his frames, temporarily hiding his eyes. You gripped the straps of your purse and squared your shoulders. “Yes,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded his head and waved you inside. You walked behind him, feeling like you were walking to your doom. Inside his office, it was just as drab as outside.

Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical texts and non-fictional books on powerful Black figures through history. The office was small, but clean, with a golden brown sofa pushed against a solid wall of taupe. He had a painting above the sofa, showing a serene ocean view with a boat out on the water. 

Natural light filtered into the room from a window showcasing the cityscape outside. His office was high up in the building, letting you look down on all the people living their normal lives. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped, whipping around to see Dr. Richmond leaning away from the door. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, would you like it to remain open?” He asked. 

You shook your head. Closed was preferable. You watched Dr. Richmond take his seat behind a massive desk, everything in a neat stack and in its proper place. He rolled forward and then opened a black folder, picking up a pen.

“Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself,” he said.

“My thick ass file didn’t give me away? Sorry, I shouldn’t say ass. Sorry,” you said and winced after cussing so much. You pointed to a thick file on his desk and you knew without a doubt that it was yours. 

It was crazy how you had a full record of your insanity, detailing how you started down this deep, dark path. Cataloged every doctor, every note, every nasty thought in your mind. Okay, you were being a little dramatic, but this was just so…embarrassing. And it didn’t help to have someone who looked like that hearing what you had to say. 

“There’s no rules here. You want to say ass, go for it,” he said and shrugged. 

You giggled, feeling more at ease. You nodded and took a seat on the sofa. There was a clear coffee table in front of it that held a zen garden complete with little trees, shiny rocks, and…were those Lego figures? You looked from it to him and he smirked, drawing your attention to his full, lush lips. 

 “Some people find it easier to occupy their hands during discussions. You can give it a try if you want,” he said.

You sat back on the sofa. Maybe later. You felt too awkward as is. Like you were some alien visitor testing out your disguise on the human population. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your leggings and shook your head. “What, uh, did my file say about me?” 

Dr. Richmond shrugged and leaned back in his seat, fixing his thin gold glasses on his face. “Those are words and opinions from other doctors. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” he said and leaned back in his seat.

He was so…disarming in a way that allowed you to release the ironclad control you held on to. You picked at your nails and focused on that, rather than his stormy eyes. “I think I’m broken. And I’m not entirely sure why I’m even entertaining this,” you said. 

“Why are you then?” He prompted.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Tired of feeling like a freak,” you said.

“A freak? Why would you use that term?” He asked. 

You snuck a glance at him. He no longer held the pen. He rested his hands against his stomach, clasped, and just looked at you. Even that was different from all your other therapists combined. 

“Because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m in a freak show. I–,” you stopped and licked your lips. But you were here now. May as well rip the bandaid off. “I can’t cum! And I know, it’s normal. I know plenty of people experience it. I know that women especially have a hard time doing it. But no matter what I fuckin’ try, I just can’t. I feel it coming, I know it’s coming, but then it sort of…goes away? And then I’m sitting there embarrassed that I can’t and when I’m with a partner, they pretend that it’s cool, but then I never hear from them again.” 

You clicked your teeth shut as you realized you were rambling. You picked at a stiff hangnail, tugged at it until it started to hurt. You continued flicking at it, egged on by your awkwardness. And realizing you were being awkward was only making it worse. So you picked. And picked, until the hangnail tore and hurt worse. 

“Why is it important that you cum?” He asked. 

“What?” You asked. You looked at him, expecting to see pity. Disgust. Curiousness. Dr. Richmond held none of those things. His face was a pillar of stoicism, balancing the perfect mix of professionalism and empathy. 

“Why is it so important to you? If you know that it’s normal and plenty of people experience it, shouldn’t the journey matter more than the destination?” He asked. 

Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp as you looked at him. Your mind emptied of every single possible answer to that question. It was important because…it was. Because you never got anything else right either. You were always a step behind, slow on the uptick, feeling like you were taking up too much space in the world even after shrinking yourself to the smallest possible point.

Not easy to do considering your size. You loved your body and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it wasn’t exactly easy to hide. You were unassuming, sweet, kind, and a great friend. But beneath all of that, you wanted desperately to fit in. This was a basic human release. It was part of the big three things that humans needed. Food, safety, sex. And you could only achieve one of those things.

But how did you word that without sounding like a pathetic kook? You pulled at the hangnail, felt the burn as it ripped, and shrugged your shoulders. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I feel like a freak when I can’t. Like I waited too long. To have sex, to experience life, to explore what I’m into,” you said. 

“Do you think there are goal posts for life?” He asked. He may as well have been a statue for how often he moved. He retained his position, chair turned slightly towards you, as he looked at you like you were a puzzle. 

“Isn’t there? That’s why we call them milestones? Reach your 18th birthday, yay you’re an adult. Find the love of your life, yay you’re married. Pop out some kids, yay, you’re continuing the bloodline. I feel like now, at my age, I should know what one fuckin’ orgasm feels like,” you said. 

“How do you know you haven’t had one already?” He asked.

“I know my body. There’s nothing. There’s the build up, there’s the excitement, there’s everything leading up to it. But I never get over that peak. It just…goes away,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and turned his attention to the pad. He wrote down a few sentences and it was so quiet in his office, you could hear a clock ticking nearby. You also heard his pen scratch against the paper. He must be using some fancy, fountain pen. He looked the type. 

“What do you hope to achieve through therapy?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “If I knew, you wouldn’t be my tenth therapist,” you said with a heavy sigh. When you first thought about going to therapy, you thought it wasn’t truly for you. There was nothing that really bothered you outside of life’s stress. Everybody had that. 

But you ended up finding some that encouraged you to dig deep and find the woman within. The one comfortable in her skin. Encouraged you to explore your sexuality and think about it in depth. You crawled through so many forums, so many health websites, so many articles that you had a great idea of what ailed you. 

“There has to be a reason you keep trying,” he said. 

You leaned back into the sofa with a huff. “You definitely ask the easy questions. What happened to the intake and whatever?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. He tapped his pen against your folder. “You’ve done plenty of that, don’t you think?” 

Your lips twisted with a smile. Okay, maybe you were starting to see why he was so highly recommended. He was comforting without being condescending. Soothing without being smarmy. He treated you like an adult and for the first time, you had a little beacon of hope. 

“I keep trying because I want it. I don’t have the words right now to describe why I want it. I want to know the hype. I want the relief. I want to know what post nut clarity feels like,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled and you chuckled with him. It sounded funny, but you were so serious. It was exhausting at this point. Pretending like you knew what the fuck you were talking about when others asked you. Your group chat blew up with your equally single friends who were less discerning about who they took to bed.

Every other night, there were stories about dick sizes, oral, and a whole treatise on the lack of finesse these guys had. You almost snorted thinking about your best friend, Brooklyn, and how she said that no wonder men were trapping women in marriages in the past. It was the only way they could get women to be with them. It certainly wasn’t because of their pornographic sexual prowess. 

“What’s been your journey with sex so far?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath and told him all about it. The way that you picked up a book one day with sex in it and never looked back. In a lot of ways, that book probably shaped how you viewed sex and your sexual kinks. Before long, you were searching for more and more books with the exact same tropes. A sexy, semi-asshole alpha male that was too big to be real. 7’8, long dick, and a short attitude. Typically bad boy types with tattoos and “touch her and die” vibes. The kind to only be soft with the female main character.

You could wax poetic about why it appealed to you. Blah blah blah, you had a terrible childhood where you felt invisible. It was all there in the file if he wanted to take a gander. 

“I know I’m submissive, that I want to be dominated in bed. But, whew, the game out here is ridiculous,” you said. “The men I wouldn’t mind submitting to are too damn weak to take control. The men I would never submit to act like I’m their pet already and can speak to me however they want.” 

“Do you think you’re being too picky?” He asked. 

You were startled into a laugh. “What gave me away, Dr. Richmond?” You asked.

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “I have a process, bear with me,” he said. That ain’t all you wanted to do. He was fine as hell. You mentally shook your head. No, you could not go there. Not at all. 

You continued to discuss how you led to certain conclusions. Yes, you were picky. But why shouldn’t you be? You weren’t seeking perfection. You just wanted something normal. Something healthy. Something toe curling, mind numbing, sickeningly disgusting and sweet. Was that too much to ask for? 

Dr. Richmond asked more questions and you relaxed fraction by fraction, getting right to the core of why you were seeking professional help. You told him about some of the partners you had. Some who were sweet and really tried. You had a long term boyfriend at one point who was attentive and caring. But he fell short of making you cum. 

He ate you out long enough to get you wet and going and then jumped straight to sex just so he could cum. You often lied about cumming until it got too exhausting to keep up with. He promptly got mad, hurt that you lied, and possibly embarrassed that he wasn’t God’s gift to sex. His loss. 

It was awkward at first to discuss such intimate details with Dr. Richmond but you often forgot he was even there. Until he asked you to expand on something you said or ask a clarifying question. Even the scratch of his pen faded into the background as you spoke about how you arrived in his office. 

Dr. Richmond finally finished and leaned back in his seat once more, squaring his broad shoulders against the high back of his chair. He crossed his leg and looked at you and you briefly wondered what he’d look like without the glasses. 

“We’re nearing the end of our session but I think I’m getting a clearer picture of why you’re here. After hearing from you and looking through your file, it seems like your perception of what sex really is has been skewed. Either through these books, these movies, or even porn. It’s perfectly okay to consider what you like in bed or what you prefer in a partner. But most people’s foray into their sexual journey starts with themselves. What’s your relationship like with your body?” 

“I love my body,” you said, immediately. Why wouldn’t you love your body? You were gorgeous. Sure, you struggled with your weight, but you didn’t want to be thin anyway. You just wanted to roll out of bed without being out of breath sometimes. Or cut your toenails without having to stop every few minutes for air. 

Dr. Richmond licked his lips and your eyes dropped immediately to it. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and it drew your attention to his big hands. Too damn bad you hadn’t met him under better circumstances. You bet he could make you cum. Often.

“What else?” He asked. 

“What else is there?” You asked, clearing your throat, and drawing your attention away from how drop dead gorgeous he was. Your thoughts ran wild still, picturing him in all sorts of nasty scenarios. If nothing else, your imagination was always there to show you a good time. Your own perfect world where you experienced back to back orgasms. 

“What has your personal sexual journey encompassed besides you loving your body? Do you touch yourself?” He asked. 

You fought every urge you had to squeeze your thighs together. How the hell did this man end up in this profession? He missed his calling as a phone sex operator. Or an erotic audio content creator. Good lord, he could have people eating out of the palm of his hand if he so wished. Swimming in a tub full of money earned from hundreds of thousands of horny bitches who could cum to his voice alone. Lucky bitches.

You shrugged. “Of course I touch myself. I can’t cum that way either,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “This only works if you lower them walls you try so hard to hide behind,” he said.

You kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. The hell did he know. So what if he had fancy doctor diplomas behind his chair. So what if he had a MD in this field. What the hell did he know?

After cursing him out two ways from Sunday in your mind, you deflated. “I know I’m not relaxed when I masterbate. I lock my door, I put on headphones, and I still feel like I’m…”

“Like you’re…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

“Being watched? Being judged? You can probably guess I grew up religious. It’s not like I had enough time or space to explore my body. My room was directly next to my parents’. If I so much as sighed too loud, my mom was banging on my wall telling me to fix my attitude,” you admitted. That had been oodles of fun. Growing up, you couldn’t even roll your eyes without someone telling you to fix your face. 

“What does relax you then?” He asked.

“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled, showing off a dazzling, mega-watt movie star smile that made your knees weak. If you weren’t already sitting down, you’d fall flat on your face. 

“I believe I can help you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I need total, focused commitment from you. Do you think you can do that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said instantly. There wasn’t even a question. You wanted this more than breathing, more than eating. And that was saying something because you would happily drive far and wide for a good meal. 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Good. I’m giving you homework. I want you to spend the next week exploring your body. Nothing sexual. Spend time in your body and with your body. Touch yourself, but no masterbating. When you shower, acknowledge your body. When you lotion up, pay attention to every mole, every scar. This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body. I also want you to keep a journal. You won’t share it with me unless you want to, but this exercise is to get you in tune with your body. Rewire how you perceive sex and sexual completion. Does that sound doable?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment. He must not know the effect he had on those around him. He had to be completely clueless. Batshit fucking oblivious. The wreck he was having on your libido was absolutely insane. 

Joking aside, you were taking this seriously. In just one session, Dr. Richmond managed to give you a tiny spark of hope. That maybe you weren’t a lost cause. You immediately tempered your thoughts. Hope hurt. You’d been hopeful so many times in the past, with different therapists, who seemed like they had a plan to help you.

Only for them to diagnose some other problem. You had anxiety, duh. You had depression, shocker. You had a laundry list of diagnoses from doctors and therapists who just thought you were obsessed with sex. That was like saying the sky was blue. Who wasn’t obsessed with sex? Besides asexual people. 

“I’ll do it,” you said.

“Good,” he said. He went over your schedule, working out a time to see him once a week until you would eventually graduate to fewer sessions. That bummed you out. Not seeing his gorgeous face ever again? Could you fake another issue and continue seeing him? 

Dr. Richmond dismissed you and you left his office feeling a smidgen lighter than when you entered. Maybe this would actually work out. Maybe. 

Terry

Terry finished with his last client of the day and went over his notes, inputting his clearer thoughts into the patient portal on his laptop. When he ran across your file, he paused and opened it once more.

Your case fascinated him. He couldn’t stop pouring over your files, doctor’s notes, direct quotes. There had been plenty of therapists before him, all trying to help the beautiful woman who entered his office earlier in the afternoon. 

He wasn’t immune to his patients. Some were beautiful and charming and all tried to flirt their way into his bed. He never crossed that line. Never. Yet…when you discussed your story, the rawness of it captivated him. He held onto your every word like you were a theater production right before his eyes. 

He hardly took notes because he was so fascinated with the dichotomy of you. On the outside, you were a bit shy. Perhaps too self-aware which led you to shrink, hide who you really were. He got the sense that there was an entire universe wrapped up in your mind and he began asking deeper questions than he ever had on a first session. 

The hour had gone by too fast for his tastes. He wanted to hear more. Learn more. Know more. He hated to admit it, he even got semi-erect as you told your tale. He was understandably disgusted and it wasn’t the first time; occupational hazard. But it was the first time he’d ever cursed his medical degree. 

You were perfect. Absolutely perfect. When you admitted to being submissive, his dick even twitched. Ached. Why couldn’t he have met you somewhere else? Surely, fate hadn’t been so cruel as to put the perfect sub within reach and then ensure that he could never have you? Never touch you? 

Describing your previous lovers actually made his chest boil. You had been subjected to ignorant men who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. And they had you believing that you were the problem. It was laughable. It was maddening. It was cruel. 

He frowned at your file. He had gone over it so many times in preparation for the session. He didn’t know what would walk through the door. A file this thick? He thought he’d have a sex-obsessed, delusional fiend on his hands that he’d have to contend with.

Your wish of cumming was almost cute. Terry sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking it was cute. If anything, he should be passing your case off to his colleague down the hall. Dr. Crawford was as capable as Terry was, their ideas often aligning in regards to treatment.

He preferred a holistic approach. Most problems could be resolved within a few months, once people began to shift their idea of sex and their role in it. 

“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” That was one of his favorite quotes, said so many times that no one truly knew where it originated. 

It was a quote he often repeated to his patients at the right moment. When they were beginning to discover a part of themselves previously unexplored. He wondered how long it would take for your moment? That dawning realization. 

He was only sad he couldn’t see it in real time. That moment when you let yourself feel. Let yourself relax and sink into that subspace you so desperately needed. Terry grunted and closed your file. 

He was about to crack you open like an egg and watch a brand new woman emerge. He was about to hand you off to the first man who pretended to understand your needs. He took out his fresh notepad, every patient got one, and scribbled some more notes. He’d have to make sure you understood the difference between a real dom and a little boy playing dress up. 

His eyes scanned across his earlier notes, little things he jotted down while you spoke. Areas you skipped over, areas you expanded on. They were only a sentence or two long, something to kickstart his memory. Because at the time, his eyes were focused on you. On your face, your voice, your mannerisms. 

It was both a curse and a blessing to notice so much. See so much. Understand so much. But it worked when necessary. You deflected about your sexual partners, retreated when he tried to push further about how you reached these conclusions. What methods you tried.

Usually, Terry did a whole song and dance to ease patients into talking about sex. Sex was taboo until it was time to have it. Now everything was awkward, unbalanced, and led to too many instances of abuse. 

But between your file and how skittish but determined you seemed, you didn’t need a song and dance. You needed someone to give you guideposts. You didn’t truly need therapists. You just needed a nudge in the right direction. A nudge to someone else.

Terry pursed his lips and looked at your name on the file. He had to be careful. If he wasn’t, you would end up being trouble in more ways than one. 

He finished up the last of his notes and then scanned through for anything he might have missed. He wrote down what your homework assignment was. He hadn’t truly known where that came from. 

Perhaps it was the look in your eyes. Perhaps it was the helpless, frantic twist to your mouth that had him going from zero to one hundred where you were concerned. But the more he described it, the lower your eyes went. The way your mouth slackened just a bit. As if you were caught in some picture in your mind that he couldn’t see. 

Terry leaned away from his desk and looked outside of his window. The tinted glass showed the sun in the distance, sinking lower towards the horizon. A bird flew, twisting and turning with the hot currents it found. 

He ought to do the right thing. There was no way to remain objective in this manner. Not when he was strangely drawn to you, drawn to your file, and drawn to the unique challenge it presented. 

You could very well end up a case study in some medical textbook or journal, name changed, but the presentation exactly the same. He didn’t relish the thought of being the one to put you there. But your case could end up helping someone else. It was the way the world worked.

He only hoped that he had enough self-restraint to walk away if he found himself compromised. If he couldn’t reign in his personal tastes and habits to help you. If he found himself looking at your lips as you spoke, your smile as you made self-deprecating jokes, or the shy way you licked your lips. 

“Shit.” He took his phone out of his bag and hit up his on again, off again submissive play partner, Tasia. Perhaps it’d been too long since he took care of his own needs. Perhaps what he needed was to release the pent up tension he carried around all the time. 

How long had it been? He didn’t know. But even as he set up the details with Tasia, he couldn’t help wondering if you were following his directions to the letter.

I said don't judge me! LOL. Thank you for reading, truly.

The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 2 | Part 3

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[slutsareteacherstoo]

WELP😅😭 got me together real quick!!!!

YOU NEVER MISS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ THIS WAS SO GOOD!! And like highkey 🫣 needed this. Finals week is next week chile. It’ll be all over soon 🙂‍↕️

late night writes… short & sweet

18+ SMUT

Imagine… Terry makes you say your affirmations after hearing you speak negatively about yourself.

“look in the mirror while i play with that pussy”

he instructed, using his free hand to bring your head forward until you locked eyes with your reflection. you sat in between his legs on the plush rug that covered the floor. legs wide open, kitty on full display dripping into the crack of your ass and onto your brand new rug. your knees were bent and rested against his as he stroked your cunt with his thick fingers, leaving a glossy coating on his knuckles that ran down his fingers. his middle and ring finger working you over as the seconds went by…

“tell daddy you’re pretty baby”

“i’m pretty” you cried out both from the insane amount of pleasure and the fact that just a few hours prior you were announcing the total opposite. with you working long hours and being a full time student, it was hard to find the time to get dolled up. solely focusing on not missing work or assignments, you made no time for yourself and as the days went by your confidence started to fade. so when he asked you to get dressed because he wanted to take you out to dinner, a celebration of finishing yet another semester, you expressed to him that you weren’t feeling the prettiest and that you weren’t up for a late night date… why did you do that?

“tell me how pretty you look while I’m playing in that pretty pussy.”

“I look so pretty daddy” a combination of a whine and a moan leaving your lips as you struggled to push out those words. he didn’t like when you spoke down on yourself. usually a simple conversation would take place and then you two would continue on with the day but the negative self talk was happening way too often for his liking. although he never missed a moment of praising you not only for your gorgeous looks as well as your intellect, your personality, and just simply being you, it wasn’t enough if you didn��t believe it yourself… so he had his way of making you believe it.

“daddy’s baby look beautiful all the time don’t she?”

“yessssssss.”

his deep voice praising and encouraging you while his strong arm flexed with each pump of his fingers, sending you into another dimension. you tried your hardest to recite your affirmations for him for a second time but he wasn’t making it an easy task. his fingers left your opening for a second and made way to your swollen clit, spreading your juices all over your sex.

“daddy don’t like when you say mean things about yourself and you know that.”

“i’m sorry daddy.” your face swirled with ecstasy and sorrow as he toyed your clit in circles with his fingers. your hole pulsating from the absence of his fingers, longing to be filled again. he continued his circles, making you watch his every move. the two of you sat, cheek to cheek, ear to ear, watching your own private show.

“look at my pretty girl” he smiled, noticing your confidence grow by the second as you stared at your own reflection. taking in every part of your body coupled with the vulnerability he was forcing you to bring to the forefront. you were never ugly, your body was never the problem, you just needed a little boost that’s all. “you fucking up your rug princess.”

“i don’t care daddy, i wanna cum! please!” you were on the brink and he was slowing down, why would he slow down?

“all fours, put that ass in the air!” he said, releasing you from his grasp and watching as you assumed the position. chest pressed against the floor, back arched, both hands on your ass, spreading yourself open so he could get a view of everything, exactly how he liked it. standing up on his knees, he pulled the waist band of his sweats down, letting his dick hang free. dragging his thickness down the slick of your lips, he grabbed onto your hips with one hand and slid into you until his balls were pressed firmly against your clit. you felt every. single. inch.

“uh un look at yourself and start over.” he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled back until you were staring directly into the mirror again. using his other hand to grip your throat, he demanded that you repeat your affirmations once again while he dug into you mercilessly.

‘i am beautiful’

‘i love my body.’

‘i love myself for who i am’

the list went on and on until he was pleased with you.

the more you spoke, the greater your desire to release was building. the sweet gushy sounds he was pulling from you was music to his ears. the feeling of his dick hitting your spot repeatedly along with his heavy sack slapping against your clit, you couldn’t hold it any longer.

“i love everything about myself” you cried out, finishing the last of your affirmations. “can i cum daddy? please, can i cum?” face twisted as you tried to wait for his permission, preparing yourself for the amazing feeling that was about to take you over.

“you can cum pretty girl”

“ahhhh, yes yes yes!” you yelled out in rhythm with his strokes. “don’t stop daddy, please don’t stop.”

“i won’t baby, get all that shit. you deserve it.” your eyes began to cross as you felt the flow running down your pussy, dripping onto the rug. you wanted so badly to collapse but the grip he had on your head kept you in place. your arms had given out a while ago. he kept going, ignoring the fact that you were already cumming profusely. “i don’t wanna hear that shit come out your mouth again.”

“it won’t daddy, i promise.” you cried out, practically pleading with him. you were overstimulated and damn near worn out, you didn’t think you could handle another one so soon. but he wasn’t slowing down, increasing his intensity with every thrust.

“you promise what?”

“i won’t be m-mean to myself a-again.” your breathing staggered as you tried your best to respond to him. you gasped from the feeling that was returning once again, the strong urge was coming so fast. you didn’t have time to brace yourself. you could hear yourself cumming all over him, making a total mess on his pants and the floor.

“oh my godddddd.” he continued pressing into you while at the same time soothing you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. he slowed his movements, finally coming to a stop as he watched your body shake under his grasp. carefully resting your head onto the floor, his hand slid down the length of your back, caressing your hips while you struggled to catch your breath.

“you alright pretty girl?”

“yes daddy.”

[theereina]

Where You Going?

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

Wordcount: +3.8K

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, Dom!Terry, Toxic!Terry, alluding to spanking *if you squint*, rough sex

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: 🔥🔥🔥

As my opened suitcase lay on the bed, I only thought of getting as much of my stuff packed before he came home. I had no other priorities besides leaving. It was 7:02, so I had less than 2 hours before he left work.

“Fuck! I can't find my ring,” I said rushing into the bathroom.

I was struggling to search for it in the chaos I had created. The entire house was a mess. I had singlehandedly destroyed every room in less than 4 hours. No room was left unturned, and I didn't care about how the house looked. This would become his problem after I left. Maybe, he would finally pay attention to something other than his job and friends.

I lifted all of the items on the bathroom counter. To my surprise, I still couldn't find it. I remembered taking it off and sitting it on the counter before doing my hair a few days ago. The prongs always found a way to get tangled in the coils of my 4c hair. I chose to take the ring off rather than deal with my hair constantly getting snagged. Since removing my ring was something I always did, I didn't notice that I didn't have it until this morning.

“You know what?! He'll find it. I don't care anymore,” I said, huffing as I leaned against the counter.

I looked into the mirror, taking in my appearance. This was something I hadn't done in weeks. I was frightened by my reflection in the mirror. My hair hadn't been done in weeks. I was still slicking back the same low bun from almost a month ago. There wasn't an eyelash left in my lash extensions. My eyes were sporting dark circles and sunken from exhaustion. My chin and forehead were covered in stress pimples. Had I really let this man's bullshit drain me of the energy to even take care of myself?

“Arghhh… What the fuck is happening to me?” I said, swiping everything thing off the counter onto the floor.

I stumbled backward and braced myself against the outside glass of the shower door. I was falling apart at the seams. There was no way in hell I would spend another moment crying. All I wanted was for my husband to notice me and say something.

I hadn't heard an “I love you” in weeks. We barely slept in the same bed because he was always working overtime. Even simple conversations were non-existent or interrupted by phone calls. I was tired of the same fucked up routine— wake up, work, gym, home, sleep. Terry was no longer even a part of my current life routine, and he, for damn sure, wasn't making me a part of his.

I walked out of the bathroom, feeling dizzy. I knew that meant my anxiety was about to start whooping my ass.

As I walked up to the bed, I pushed a pile of unwanted clothes out of my way. I practically threw myself on the bed. I lay back and began taking deep breaths. I needed to calm down.

After what I thought was a minute or so, I leaned up and stared at my suitcase. I was honestly so exhausted after today.

I looked down at the watch on my wrist. It read 7:34. Realizing I was running out of time, I grabbed the suitcase and zipped it quickly. I wanted to be gone well before he left work so there was no chance of us running into each other.

I stood up, holding the suitcase. I let it fall to the floor and extended the handle. I turned towards the bedroom door. All I had to do now was walk out the front door and leave.

I took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. Walking out into the hallway, the house felt eerily quiet. Pulling the suitcase down the hall, I realized how cold it was inside the home. That meant it was even colder outside.

I left my suitcase to sit at the corner of the wall which led to the opening of the living room. I quickly turned on my heels and walked back towards the room. I practically sprinted through the open door. Walking back to the bed, I began to toss the clothes onto the floor in search of a small jacket or sweater. Once I found the top of my black velour tracksuit, I slipped it on and zipped it up.

Back on my mission, I exited the room. It was the same ordeal as before. I went back down the hall, grabbed my suitc—. Where's my suitcase? I stopped to stare at where my suitcase was supposed to be. I turned back to look down the hall. I walked into the living room and began to panic.

“Where you going?” said a male's voice. I knew that voice all too well— Terry.

I spun around to find him sitting in a recliner in the dark. I couldn't see anything but the outline of his frame. Even in this state, his energy was nerve-racking.

“Huh?” I asked, spotting my suitcase on the floor beside him.

“I mean, you walked in here and put your suitcase down like you were about to go somewhere. So, where you going?” he asked, standing from the recliner.

With that statement, I realized Terry had been here the whole time. There was no telling when he had gotten home.

“Baby girl, I asked you a question. Where you going?” he asked, crossing his arms.

From this angle, I still couldn't see him. The small amount of moonlight from the window only illuminated the bottom of his pants and shoes. I felt like I was talking to a shadow which was making this so much harder than it needed to be.

I refused to answer his question. I knew if I talked it would only lead to me stuttering like a fool.

I quickly walked across the living room and snatched the suitcase from the floor. I turned to make a beeline for the door.

“You don't think I noticed your spoiled ass pouting?” Terry asked, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Well, you didn't act like you did!” I yelled as I turned to face him. Unbeknownst to me, Terry was now right behind me. Not a sound was made to alert me of his movements. I stood there in shock, startled by his presence.

“Why should I? You're a grown a— grown woman. You have no problem using your mouth any other time. Why didn't you this time, huh? You forgot how to communicate, love?” Terry asked, leaning down.

As much as I wanted to curse him out, I couldn't. Every emotion was raging through me all at once.

“Fuck you!” I yelled, fighting back tears of anger.

I was pissed at myself. I had planned out this whole scenario— how I would act and what I would say. It was as if everything went out the window when he was in my face.

“Simmer down, baby girl,” Terry said, kissing my forehead.

“Or, what?” I said, stomping my foot and pushing him away.

Terry stood there, glaring at me. I don't know whether he was pissed or impressed. Hell, he may have been both. I forced myself to hold eye contact, trying my hardest to stand my ground.

Terry stood to his full height and scoffed. He took a single deep breath and let his hand run over his mouth. He was clearly agitated, but I couldn't care less.

I pulled the suitcase closer to me, backing up towards the door. Terry reached out and grabbed the handle of the suitcase.

“Hey!” I yelled.

I reached out to snatch it back, but Terry was quicker. He pushed the suitcase behind his back.

“You want it, then come get it!” he said, walking towards the hallway.

“Fuck it. I don't need it,” I said, turning to walk towards the door.

I open the door halfway before Terry's hand reaches over me to slam it shut, bracing his hand against the door. I tried to pry the door open, but even with one hand, Terry was stronger than me. I yell out in frustration.

“Imma ask you one more time. Where you going?” he asked, looking down at me.

I walked back into the living room, pouting. This was clearly not going the way I planned.

“Leave me the hell alone!” I yelled, turning back to the door where Terry was standing. His body acting a blocker.

“Imma let you know this now if you walk out this door, I'm changing the damn locks. TONIGHT!” Terry shouted, pointing at the door behind him.

“You can't lock me out of my house!” I yelled, getting closer to him.

“Our house, and try me. I can, and I will!” Terry declared, crossing his arms. He widened his stance as he glared at me.

“I can't stand you!” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

“Oh, really. That's how you feel, baby girl?” he said, smirking.

“That's what the fuck I said, ain't it?” I rebutted.

“You know what? Fine, here. You wanna leave so bad. Go! Here's your chance. I'm not even gonna stop you!” he said, putting the suitcase in front of me and opening the door.

I placed my hand on the handle. I stood there unsure of what to do. Why the fuck was he just giving up like this? What the fuck was going on?

“All you gotta do is answer my question. Where you going?” he asked, stepping closer to me.

I looked back and forth between him and the floor. I didn't have an answer because I didn't plan on having to explain myself.

“I…. I… I don't know!” I yelled, stomping angrily.

“You don't even have a plan, do you?” Terry scoffed in disbelief.

“No…. So, what?” I asked desperately trying to save face.

“Of course, you don't! Give me the suitcase,” Terry said, rolling his eyes.

“No!” I yelled.

“Give it here! I ain't asking you. I'm telling you. Do you not understand the difference, baby girl?” he asked, holding his hand out.

I contemplated my next move. Truthfully, I was all out of options. I handed Terry the suitcase. He grabs the handle and lifts the suitcase in the air. He unzipped it and dumped all of my clothes on the floor. He slung the empty suitcase across the room.

I look down at the pile of clothes in disbelief. My eyes dart back up to Terry's. This man was insane.

Terry used his foot to slam the door shut. Without turning around, he reached behind him and locked the front door.

“Don't look at me. Go in the room. We need to talk before we go to bed,” he said, flexing his hands. He stood in front of me rolling his shoulders.

“We can talk right here!” I blurted. I knew that if I walked back into our bedroom, I was in for a “treat”.

“Nah, we not doing that kinda talkin'. Let's go!” he barked.

I looked at him, fighting through my thoughts. I stood in place and crossed my arms.

“Ughh!” Terry grunted and picked me up.

“No! Put me down!” I yelled, pushing at Terry's back.

He carried me out of the living room and down the hallway. Walking into the bedroom, he placed me in front of the foot of the bed.

“You got one minute to strip, or I'm ripping it off of you myself!” Terry said, standing in front of me.

“And if I don't?” I mumbled under my breath.

“You keep acting like you really got options here. I'm being polite by letting you think you do. Don't play with me, baby girl. Strip!” Terry said.

“Why do you always do this?” I asked, pouting even harder. I threw my head back in defeat.

“Do what?” Terry asked, licking his lips. His eyebrows knitted together as he waited for an answer.

“This! You always… just… I don't know. This! I can never just leave!” I shouted. I didn't know what to say.

“Take a second to think about what you just said. You do this same thing over and over again. Yet, every time you do I stop you. If I am always able to stop you, did you ever wanna leave? Love, maybe I know my wife better than she does. Maybe, I'm used to your bullshit and tantrums, baby girl,” Terry said through gritted teeth.

“I hate you,” I sulked, feeling stupid. He had me all figured out. This was pissing me off.

“You what?” Terry challenged, getting closer.

“You heard me. I fucking hate you!” I yelled in Terry's face.

“Hahaha, imma make you eat those words. I hope you know that. Tuh! You so funny, baby girl,” Terry laughed, leaning so that his forehead rested on mine. “Now, strip! Don't think I forgot. Since you wanna play games, you got 30 seconds this time,” he lulled as he stood back and crossed his arms.

I begin to strip as slowly as possible. I unzipped my jacket at a turtle’s pace and pulled the arms of my jacket off one at a time. I could see this was pissing Terry off. His face was telling it all as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Without warning, Terry grabbed me and pushed me on the bed. Clothes be damned!

20 minutes later

I had taken my punishment of 15 spankings with pride. Honestly, that was nothing compared to what he was doing right now.

“You gone clean this shit up, right?” Terry said, pounding my pussy in.

I could feel his dick bottoming out and kissing my cervix with ease. I knew he was going to wear my ass out, but I didn't expect this. He hadn't let up since we started. He went from tearing my ass up to stuffing me with dick.

“Yes, Daddy!” I screamed out.

Every inch of his dick was being swallowed by my pussy. He didn't care that I was fighting for my life. He was too busy watching himself slide in and out of me— egotistical green-eyed bastard.

Terry grabbed the back of my legs and pushed them into my chest. My knees were practically hitting the mattress. I was feeling an intense burn in my abdomen and thick thighs from this man folding me in half.

“Baby girl just wanted some dick, huh?” he asked as his hips snapped against my already sore ass.

“Yes, I'm sorry!” I moaned out into the air.

I glance up at Terry to find him smirking at me. Terry's arms wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer.

“Nah… You hate me. Remember?” he asked as a devilish grin spread across his face.

He flattened his body on top of me and let his full weight fall on me, pressing me into the mattress. I didn't know what this position was, but I knew it was about to fuck me up.

As if his dick was magic, this position made me feel like he was deeper than before. How? His dick couldn't grow, could it?

He rested his forehead on mine and looked into my eyes.

“Tell me you hate me, now! Come on! Go ahead! I wanna hear it!” Terry said, leaning in and kissing me softly.

Terry slowed his strokes down, punishing me. Unfortunately, I couldn't speak or think. I didn't know what he expected from me.

“Daddy, I can't!” I mewled through gritted teeth. Hot tears flowed freely down the sides of my face.

“Nah. Stop telling me what you can't do! Tell me you hate me again. I wanna hear it!” Terry said, sliding his hand around the front of my neck.

Terry applied a small amount of pressure to the front of my throat, causing me to whimper from the pressure. I was beginning to squirm under him. I couldn't focus on anything but my half-assed breathing.

“Don’t worry, love. I'm about to make you hate me,” he said, kissing me again.

He grabbed a hold of the back of my neck and pulled me onto his lap. Lifting me slightly, he reached his hand between us to enter me again. I let out a small and desperate whimper. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. (position)

“You givin’ up on me? Baby girl… Look at me. Stay focused on me,” he said, thrusting upward.

Sadly, I was too fucked out to fuck back. It was as if all of the power and energy he had left was being used against me right now. His hands gripped the underside of my ass tightly. Using this as leverage, he would lift me a little and let me drop down into his thrusts.

I promise you from this day forward I will never tell this man I hate him again. The sound coming from our skin slapping together was deafening and thunderous. I couldn't believe the amount of energy this man still had. My pussy was gonna love hate me later.

“Daddy wants your apology to be as loud as your disrespect! Let me hear it!” he shouted, pulling my hair so that my face was pointed at the ceiling.

It was clear to me that this was purely punishment for me and amusement for him.

“You wanna cum, baby girl?” Terry asked, kissing all over my face.

“Yes, Daddy!” I groaned, falling into him.

“Then, I better hear my goddamn apology! Come on! You better not cum before I get it either!” Terry said, licking the side of my neck.

I honestly could have cum from that alone. I moaned out in a whimper. His hands released from my body, but I knew better than to think he was done. He grabbed my waist and flipped me over. Using one hand, he pulled me back onto him and into a kneeling position. His chest now rested against my back.

“Don't move,” he whispered in my ear, kissing my shoulders and neck.

Entering me again with ease, he wrapped one hand around my throat while holding my body taut to his. In this position, I could feel every breath he took.

“Now, what did I say? You can't cum until you apologize, right?” he taunted.

His thrusts became slow and intentional. It was evident that Terry had a point to make, and he was going to drive it home whether I could handle it or not.

As if he could hear my thoughts, his other hand found my clit. He began rubbing and stroking along the underside of it. I felt like I was physically melting.

Before he could say another word, I began to speak. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't… ahh… fuck… I don't hate you. Please!” I screamed into the air.

I was being fucked into submission clearly because instead of letting up, he went harder. His fingers began to rub my clit even faster, his other hand tightened around my throat, and his stroke became more vicious. I was falling and fast. My ears were ringing and listening was becoming impossible.

“Nah… Say… that… shit… louder. Come on!” he said, enunciating with every thrust.

I gasped and drew in a deep breath, causing me to cough.

I could finally feel the beginning signs of his orgasm, which meant relief was near. However, I knew Terry could hold off as long as he needed or wanted to.

“Please, Daddy! I’m sorry. I’ll never… ahh.. I’ll never say it again. Please, just let me cum!” I yelled even louder than the first time.

I was struggling to catch my breath at this point. I was so close. I could feel the muscles of my pussy tightening around Terry’s dick like a boa constrictor, and the pressure building up in my abdomen had reached its peak.

Pulling me back into a kiss, Terry spoke low and directly into my ear. “Cum! Now! You… got… this,” he said in between kisses.

With a potency laced with pleasure, I released the biggest flood I ever had. My legs began to shake, and my body fell forward. Terry instantly tightened his hold on me, forcing me to stay up. I couldn't feel my legs. I wanted nothing more than to sleep, preferably under him.

“Oh, baby. We’re almost done. Let Daddy finish,” Terry rumbled into my ear.

It wasn't like I had a choice anyway. He clearly wasn't stopping. He let go of my body, letting me fall forward with his dick still inside me. Of course, he would finish like this. His favorite position is doggy style. Placing one hand on my upper back, his hips dipped with every thrust. Miraculously, I felt the need to cum again. I wasn't even going to ask for permission with this one. Hell, I couldn't.

“That’s right, baby. Now, tell Daddy what we learned?” Terry demanded.

I pressed my face into the mattress because how in the hell was he expecting me to speak? Pulling my head up by my hair and undoing the last remnants of what was supposed to be a bun, he positioned me on all fours.

“Talk! I need to know that this ain't gone ever happen again. Because in this house, we respect Daddy, right?” he said, slowing his strokes again.

‘Ahhh, fuck… Yes, we… Daddy respect!” I yelled drunkenly.

“Awww, listen to my baby. You so dick dumb, right now. Daddy’s dick fuckin’ you up, huh?” he asked, pounding into me slowly.

All I could do was respond with a low yes and moan, causing Terry to let out a ragged laugh.

“Mmmm… cumming, now!” I yelled.

“Daddy is too. Don’t move!” he said, gripping my hip and pushing me deeper into the mattress.

Terry’s climax crashed with mine. His cum and mine flooded my pussy. The intense combination of fluids forced Terry out of me. I fell forward on the bed, immediately laying flat on my stomach. My body was exhausted and sore. I crashed into recovery mode as my eyes immediately shut. I was practically half-asleep as soon as my body hit the bed.

Terry laughed behind me. “And what did we learn?” Terry asked, stepping backward off the bed.

“Mmm… We don't disrespect, Daddy. I'm sorry. I love you,” I mumbled.

“That’s what the fuck I thought,” Terry said, smacking my ass.

The lesson of today is that I’m not going any-fuckin’-where.😉

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

[henneseyhoe]

Right Where I Want You.

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Rough sex (Nothing too serious, she just chokes him a lil), Dirty talk, DOM!reader, SUB!Terry, Mommy kink (yeah you heard me, we get real nasty over here..), PW/OP, Short!, Not completely proof read.

SUMMARY: nah. lol

✮✮✮✮

the sound of clapping could be heard from the next room over even with the door closed. They both made no moves to quiet down either, the squeaky springs of the bed only applauded her on her bouncing, giving her the praises she needed for taking a dick this size. The stretch was delicious, the girth making her feel stuffed, and the length reaching places so deep that she could barely sit down all the way.

But how she rode was already enough for Terry, she didn’t have to sit all the way. He was already so gone. The way Terry was moaning her name with curses following, you’d think that was the only english he knew.

Her heels dug into the bed beneath them, the sensation of the soft silks against his bare skin heightening his pleasure. He had begged her just minutes before to use him, fuck him into his own bed and leave him wondering why you hadn’t come along sooner, why he didn’t come find you instead. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, there was some things he could live with happily without embarrassment. There was just something about you that could make a man kneel at your feet, cry, even.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She asks before moaning, her head lulling back for a second as she felt the tip of him brush over exactly where she wanted him the most. Her voice was so tantalizing, laced with a sweetheart tone and dominance as she knew she could take away what he needed the most in this moment; a tight pussy gripping his dick and a nut that would send him to another dimension. She knew damn well he was doing more than enjoying himself.

His abs tightened under his brown skin and he cried out, opting to hold onto the headboard instead of her hips to avoid her stopping like she did last time he touched her without permission.

“Fuck, baby!”

His hips bucked wildly as the sensitivity of him became almost unbearable. He hadn’t even came yet, multiple orgasms purposely ruined being the reason for the constant tightness in his balls and stomach. She, on the other hand, had already came three times. On his fingers, on his face, on that dick. Her cream stuck to his shaft and balls, making wet, sticky sounds every time her fat ass bounced back down on him, making him release another spurt of precum into her walls.

Her cream was still warm, used as lube to help her ride that thick dick efficiently enough to have him seeing stars.

And stars he did indeed see, the glasses perched on his nose providing no help with vision as he clenched his eyes closed.

“You boutta cum for me, baby? You know better to ask mommy first”

She runs her pierced tongue over her lips and begins rubbing her poor little clit with her dominant hand, ignoring the indescribable pain from sensitivity that also somehow brought her pleasure. She used her other hand to slowly wrap itself around Terry’s throat, squeezing slightly to bring him out his euphoric daze.

Once he had opened his eyes, he got to admire her again, eyes flickering from her pretty face to the urging hand between her thighs.

She went even harder on him, staring into his piercing eyes with a clear desire to break him just in case any other bitch thought she could do what she does to him. No one else could have him, a grown man, begging to be fucked, on his knees with his face in her lap.

“You like when I fuck you like this. You like when I use you” She guides him into a nod, a satisfied smile on her face as he agrees.

“Yes- fuck!”

“Mhmm. You love this pussy don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I love this pussy, mommy”

His words sent her into overdrive. That was the first time he had ever compiled and called her the self given pet name. She knew he was right where she wanted him now. There was nothing he wouldn’t say or do for her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill mommy up”

✮✮✮✮

💌- ngl this was just sumn sweet for the fuckin kids till december 🥴 did NOT mean for it to be like dis!

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

series masterlist

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.

[jimmybutlrr]

All the terry Richmond and Aaron Pierre fan fictions I have come across.

[writingsbytee]

SEXUAL HEALING

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNING / TRIGGERS: Reader is DEPRESSED, no thoughts of self harm or un-aliving herself. Babygirl is just having a depressive episode. Depressed themes, Sexual themes, explicit sexual content; dirty talk; soft Dom,

SUMMARY: Reader is depressed and Terry fucks her out of it

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minora please don’t interact!*

 *Also, this is complete fiction. I'm writing about the reader’s depression simply based on my experiences and knowledge of depression. I’m in NO WAY saying that this is what depression is for every individual. This is a safe space. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health please reach out to your local crisis center so that they can provide resources. Read with care. Love you guys <3*

This hasn’t been proofread

You groaned as your phone rang yet again, reaching out from under your blankets, your hand blindly slapping your bedside table in search of the device. Checking to see who called, a pained sigh leaves your lips. Terry, your boyfriend called you 4 times in the past hour. Deciding to put him out of his misery you answer the call.

“Hello?”, you say, not even bothering to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Babygirl? What’s wrong?,” Terry asked, his voice sounding frantic. 

A watery sigh leaves your lips, “I’m having a moment Terry, I’ll be ok. It’s just taking a little bit longer for me to come out of it.” 

I hear Terry’s door shut on the other line, “I’m on my way sweet girl, Daddy’s coming”

A muffled sob leaves your mouth at Terry’s words. Always willing to stop whatever he’s doing to help you fight the demons constantly plaguing your mind. Religious therapy and an antidepressant regimen seemed to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Every now and then the debilitating thoughts would come back rendering you useless. Your apartment desperately needed a deep clean as well as your room. Your bed becoming a cesspool, you slept, ate, and cried in the same spot for a little over a week now. 

Rolling onto your back you let out a deep sigh, wanting to be normal and not a basket case full of emotions. 

45 MINUTES LATER

You could hear your front door open and close, signaling that Terry arrived. You heard him set bags down in your kitchen before his light footfalls made his way to your room. He knocked twice before peeking his head in. Terry’s small smile dropped when he saw the state of you and your room. It broke his heart to see you this way.

“Aww honey, I’m here,” Terry said walking toward you. Tear tracks making their way down your face and silent sobs wracked your body.

“I’m so sorry, Terry. I didn’t mean to make you come all the way down here,” You said, covering your face with your hands. Terry gently grabbed your hands, removing them from your face. 

“Sweet girl, never apologize because the air gets a little too heavy for you. That’s why I’m here to take some of the load off,” Terry said with a small smile. Your  gentle green-eyed giant, you  grabbed your glasses, putting them on.

You brought a hand up to his cheek, “You’re too good for this world Terry Richmond. Thank you, for being what I never knew I needed,” you say with all the sincerity you can muster. 

Terry’s eyes shine with unshed tears, “you’ll never have to go through these feelings alone again. Baby when I said I wasn’t going anywhere I meant that. You’re stuck with me sweetheart,” Terry finishes, with a watery smile of his own. He gently raises me into a sitting position.

“Here’s what I want you to do. I brought you your favorite body wash shampoo, conditioner and those wax things you like so much. Go take a shower, wash your hair,pamper yourself. I’m going to get started on your sheets. Okay babygirl?”, he asked. Your eyes practically turned into hearts looking at Terry. 

A small smile formed on your lips as you said a gentle, “Okay, Daddy.”

His smile widened, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “There’s my girl. Now go get cleaned up, I’ll take care of everything else.” You nodded, rising slowly, and made your way into the bathroom. You didn’t dare glance at yourself in the mirror. Not in the mood for the thoughts to take hold again. Turning on the shower as hot as it would get you stepped in, ready to wash the bad thoughts away. 

Meanwhile, Terry was in your room replacing your dirty sheets, putting them in the wash, and tidying up around your apartment. He hated that he couldn’t save you from your thoughts, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He understood that everyone’s trauma affected them differently. His put him in attack mode, while yours forced you to shut down. 

As you washed your hair, you could feel your sense of self slowly returning. You found peace in taking care of yourself. Detangling your curls felt as if you were brushing away all the bad thoughts. Exfoliating was like scrubbing away your impurities, leaving you shiny and new. You don’t know why you couldn’t muster up the strength to take the 15 foot walk to your bathroom. But that’s depression in a nutshell, making the most mundane tasks feel like climbing mount everest. You spent at least an hour in the bathroom, when you emerged you felt like a different person. Your heart warmed at the sight of your room, new sheets adorned your bed with a new hello kitty plushie and pajama set.

Exiting your room, you start searching for your boyfriend. Finding him in your living room playing your favorite vinyl and watering your plants. You will yourself not to cry at Terry’s selflessness, you just run up behind him wrapping his torso in a hug. 

“Hey, baby. Feeling better?”he asks, turning to face you. You place a kiss right above his heart, looking up at him you nod.

“Yeah honey, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you” you say, staring up at him adoringly.  

Terry pet your head lovingly, “Let’s hope you never have to find out. Now go make yourself comfortable, I ordered your favorite vietnamese take-out and I’m going to rub your feet until it gets here.”

A warm gooey feeling spreads from your head to your toes. A slow grin taking over your face at your adonis of a boyfriend takes care of your body, mind, and soul. Settling into your sectional, you wiggle your toes playfully urging him closer. Terry chuckles through his nose, making his way toward you. Sliding down beside you , he grabbed both of your legs, placing them on his lap.

“Relax baby, Daddy’s here now and I’m going to take care of you,” Terry said, running his hands up your bare calves. His touch warms your skin instantly. A content sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the arm of your sofa.

“Good girl,” Terry said, grabbing your right foot. He began slowly, just caressing your feet adding a tickle here and there pulling small giggles from your lips. Terry started to work on your foot starting slowly on your instep, applying light pressure. Then he moved to your arch applying pressure that was almost painful, causing a gasp to leave your lips.

“You’ve got a knot here, be patient I’ll work it out,” Terry said, digging in deeper. An involuntary moan leaves your lips, the release of the tenson expelling through your lips. Terry smirked, his plan was working. This kept going for a while, Terry expertly massaging your feet, and you moaning like he was massaging somewhere else. You're getting wetter by the minute. 

The doorbell interrupts your massage as a groan leaves your lips, “I was just starting to relax,” you whined.  Terry lets out a chuckle before getting up. Leaning to kiss your forehead, “You’ll have plenty of time to relax later, trust me.” And with that, he heads toward the door to grab the food. Terry doesn’t let you lift a finger while he plates the food for you two. Just advising you to find something “good to watch.” With a smirk, you put on your favorite show at the moment, ‘True Blood.’ Terry liked the show surprisingly, being the first of your boyfriends to take an interest in YOUR interests. What he didn’t like was how googly-eyed you got over Alcide. As trivial as it was, he wasn't going to sit and watch you drool over another man. 

Plating your food,

Terry brought it to you. Plopping down next to you on the couch with a plan in mind, Terry just sat back and watched you enjoy your food. A small satisfied sigh leaves your lips at the first bite. 

“Mmm, it’s so good! Thank you baby” you say, leaning in to kiss Terry’s cheek. He could feel his cheeks warm at your gratitude, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Your breath hitched when Terry’s hand refused to leave your thigh. Instead tracing small circles while you ate. 

After finishing your food you and Terry cuddled up on your sofa with a blanket. Rubbing his chest you say, “Thank you for everything Terry, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Terry looks down at you grasping your chin forcing your brown eyes to meet his mossy green ones. “I’m just doing my job baby. What kind of man would I be if I let my woman suffer alone? I’m here for you, I love you, and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of.” Terry’s hand migrated to the back of your neck, pulling you in excruciatingly slow. He watched your face change. Eyes become low, lips parting, and your breathing turns shallow. 

Terry inches impossibly closer, your lips a hair’s width apart, “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“Kiss me, please?” you ask, fingers coming up to grip his t-shirt. A small devious smirk makes its way onto Terry’s face as he leans down, lips brushing against yours. The anticipation is killing you. You two were practically sharing the same breath, yet Terry wouldn’t close the gap and lay one on you. 

“Please, Daddy? Let me thank you, I’ve been good haven't I?” you ask, looking up at Terry with the doe eyes that he loves so much. 

A groan leaves his lips as Terry places your bowl on the coffee table “You know what that look does to me, baby. C’mere,” and then his lips are on you. A surprised moan leaves your lips as you pull Terry closer, sucking his lips between yours. He grabs your hips positioning you on his lap, right atop his growing bulge. 

“How are you feeling honey, still sad? What can Daddy do?” Terry asks, his hand grasping and pulling at the fat of your ass. Grinding you against thick dick. 

“Touch me, please Daddy”, you whine. You could feel yourself soaking through the seat of your sleep shorts, having forgone underwear. Terry smiles against your lips, “I am touching you pretty girl”. Pulling back for air, you move your attention to his thick neck. Placing wet open mouthed kisses there migrating up to his ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe. You hear Terry’s breath stutter drawing a smile from your lips. Terry pulls back in time to see the bright dopey smile on your face and he places a kiss on your nose.

Pulling your shirt over your head, Terry's eyes lock on plump mahogany breasts and chocolate nipples. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You’re not playing fair,” Terry says, head dropping onto the back of the sofa. A soft giggle leaves your lips. You slither up Terry’s body like a cat in heat, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“C’mon Daddy don’t you wanna feel how wet I am for you? Just for you,” you whisper into Terry’s ear, finishing with a lick. A small ‘fuck’ leaves Terry’s lips as his hand comes cracking down on your ass forcing a small yelp to leave your lips. 

“Keep that up baby and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for,” Terry said, playing with your shorts. Pulling them halfway down to jiggle your ass or tugging them high up your ass giving your clit the much needed friction you craved. You two were making out like porn stars, sloppily, lips glistening with spit. You pulled back to look at Terry, his eyes half mast filled with need and desire for you. You’re positive your face looks the same. Terry picks you up off his lap, setting you next to him on the sofa as he gets up. Turning on your sunset lamp and turning off the lights to create an ethereal glow around your living room. Then he moves pieces of your sectional together making it a day bed of some sort. 

“Strip babygirl, I want you naked by the time I get back,” Terry commands, then picks up your leftovers, and heads back to the kitchen. It was embarrassing how fast you threw the sticky shorts off. Your pussy was talking and Terry hadn’t even touched you yet. As you wait for Terry, you start massaging your tits. Nipples forming tight peaks, tugging and pulling creates a throb you feel straight down to your clit.  Small moans started leaving your lips. The ache between your thighs growing almost painful as you whined, waiting for your man to return and fuck you stupid. After five minutes you almost debate finding him.

“Terrrrryyyy,” you cry out. When you get no response you peek over your shoulder, when you don’t see him you decide to start on your own. Sliding your hands down your body, you’re about to reach your pussy when Terry’s hand grabs yours, pulling a gasp from you. 

“I said strip, when did I tell you to touch my pussy?”Terry's looking down his nose at you. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy I need you please!” You whine, sitting up. Terry makes his way around the sofa looking like a lion stalking his prey. He stands in front of you crossing his arms, a cup in one hand. 

“Spread those legs for me mama,let me see my pussy,” Terry said. Your legs fell open immediately the quiet ‘schlick’ heard between the two of you. Terry’s eyes darken, the color of a stormy sea and he takes a step toward you. 

“Hands behind your back sweetheart, you know the drill,” Terry purrs, crawling on the sofa. Taking a long sip from his cup before setting it down. Like an obedient little slut you put your hands behind your back with a small smile on your face, “Like this papa?” you asked. 

Terry dropped his head and groaned, “I’m trying to make you wait babygirl, I’m two seconds away from burying my face in that sweet pussy,” Terry said, his voice sounding like he was in pain. 

“C’mon papa look at how ready she is for you, she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her,” you scooched your ass further down the sofa, practically planting your pussy on his chin. With a growl, Terry was on top of you, hand clutching your cunt. 

Terry started massaging your clit with his fingers releasing a relieved moan from your lips. 

“Unh Terry, it feels good!” you said, head thrown back, and your back arched. 

A devilish smile formed on Terry’s lips. He loved the sounds you made when he played with you. 

“Make that sound again baby,” Terry said, tonguing your nipple. 

“Unh! Daddy!Take your pants off please. I want to feel you” you moan, gripping Terry’s neck. Pulling him down to lock your lips. Terry explored your pussy like it was his first time. Experimenting with how wet he could make you. Sliding his pants and boxers down he freed his monster of a dick. 

“I’m going to fuck you baby,but first tell me how bad you want it” Terry said, his finger picking up the pace on your clit.

“I want you so bad Terry,” you say leaning up to peck his lips over and over. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Yeah? How bad? Let Daddy know sweetheart.” Terry’s working your clit between his fingers, the slick sounds permeating through your home. 

“Fuck Daddy I want you to take care of me like you always do . You’re such a good provider, always making sure I have what I need! Ouuu! Baby, right there! Yes! You’re going to make me cum, fuck!,” You moan out, your voice rising in pitch letting Terry know you were close. 

“Then come on my tongue sweet girl,” Terry leans down and takes your clit in his mouth. Your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your breath staccatos

“You look so pretty, baby. I love how wet this pussy gets for me. You ganna let Daddy fuck the bad thoughts away. Want me to make it feel better sweetie. Because I can, you know Daddy can help,” Terry slips two fingers into, causing your soul to leave your body. 

Combined with his suction on your clit, you stood no chance against the orgasm that rocked your body. “Oouuu Terry! Yesssss!”, you moaned as Terry worked your orgasm out of you.

“That’s right pretty girl, give me that orgasm,” Terry said, adding another finger. You were beyond seeing stars at this point. There was a full milky way galaxy dancing behind your eyes. Terry had a dark smirk on his face, loving the effect he had on you. He loved making you come, how you gave yourself over to him completely. He was surprised when you forced his fingers out of your pussy, a harsh stream of liquid following. A high pitched moan left your lips as your body shook.

“Yes Honey! That’s it!” Terry moaned, slapping your clit a few times. Your body shook and shuddered in the aftermath of your orgasm. Vision hazy as you tried to center yourself. Terry stripped off his clothes and hovered over you, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“Hey, look at me baby,”Terry brought his finger to your face caressing you. Your eyes refocused on Terry’s soft ones, a small smile forming on your lips. Terry mirrored your expression, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a passionate sloppy kiss. Teeth and tongues clashing in a frantic meet of mouths. Both of you are trying to convey your love for one another. 

“Papa, I need you inside me” you wine against Terry’s lips. Terry doesn’t need to be told twice, he positions himself at your entrance and eases in. Both your lips part, needy moans releasing from your lips.

“Terry, Terry, Terry! Oh my god!” You moan as he sets a punishing rhythm. Punching your cervix with the fat mushroom head of his dick. You lose yourself in the feeling of being fucked by him. 

“How’s that feel baby, can you feel how much Daddy loves his sweet girl?” Terry asked. How he could ask you questions while digging your shit out like this is beyond you. You just moan and nod, his thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Words baby. I need to hear you say it. You’ll do that for daddy won’t you?” Terry asks, bringing his hand up to your throat applying slight pressure. The delicious feeling pulling a needy whine from your lips. Terry was hitting all your spots and you couldn’t think.

“Yes daddy, I feel it. I love it. I love you,” you moan your eyes slowly making their descent to the back of your skull. Terry loved when you started babbling on his dick, saying any and everything to please him. And please him it did. 

Terry felt like a man possessed, your pleasure the only thing on his mind determined to coax as many orgasms out of you as possible. He was going at you like a man on a mission. The push and pull, the slick sounds of him going in and out of your pussy driving him insane.  

“I love you more baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the dark thoughts, but I’m here now Daddy’s ganna fuck the depression out of you,” Terry said raising one of your knees so he could hit you even deeper.

You bring your hands up, grabbing Terry’s ass pulling him deeper inside you. “Baby you’re going to make me cummm!,” you moan out. Terry moans in your ear, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss. Terry releases your lips, leaning back to look at you. 

“Open your eyes pretty girl, I love the way you look when you come for me,” Terry was long past close. He wanted to cum so bad, but he wouldn’t, not until he felt your velvet walls pulse around his thick dick. 

“Cum with me Daddy! I need to feel you fill me up!,” You say reaching for Terry’s ears, rubbing them softly. Terry’s eyes start to roll in the back of his head. He loves it when you play with his ears.

“You’re so good to me Daddy, always taking care of me. You’re making me feel so good, thank you Daddy! Thank you for fucking the depression out of…” you never got to finnish your sentence. Orgasm hitting you like a bus. Terry was ejected from your pussy with the force, you squirted so hard your vision went white as a high pitched moan left your lips. Terry started in awe. He stood above you jerking his dick.

“Fuck that was so sexy baby I’m about to come,” Terry said. That all too familiar ache forming in his abdomen. Balls heavy and tight with the need to release. Your eyes regained their focus in just enough time to watch Terry erupt all over you. Painting you with his cum, a small smile formed on your face as his warm release landed on your breasts, tummy and legs. 

“Mm that was a big one daddy, thank you,” you moan, collecting his essence to taste. A moan leaves your lips as the salty, earthy musk hits your taste buds. Terry leans down, placing another kiss to your lips. 

“How do you feel now babygirl?” Terry asks, using the spare napkins to clean you up. 

You place a kiss on Terry’s cheek, “Much better Daddy, but I think I’m still a little sad” you said, smirking up at him. Terry shakes his head at you with a playful smile on his lips.

“Well you better go grab us some waters babygirl, I’m not done with you yet,” Terry said before lifting you over his shoulders to carry you to your room.

THE END <3

I think this might be the fastest I’ve ever written anything. I just really wanted to create a vulnerable piece, and I LOVE how this piece turned out. This is supposed to be a one shot but that’s TBD as of now. As always constructive criticism is encouraged but please take it easy on me, I’m sensitive.

TAGLIST: 

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @kianaleani @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @simplyzeeka @kumkaniudaku

[keyaho]

As I update everything, again! I wanted to have a map of where things are for those looking/interested!

FOR THE ROMAN REIGNS & RANDY ORTON GWORLS ———— Vevesi is a mafia au in which Joseph and Randy are two of the most powerful figures in the underground world. You can find that AND it’s spin off Mayhem: Next Gen ( HERE ) cowritten with @zillasvilla

That Exclusive Honey is being revamped and the new title is TRIBAL MATCH. It’s an arranged marriage au with Roman Reigns and follows the Anoa’i and Hapeta families as they combine their wealth and warriors to preserve their culture and way of life. It has more of a royal/monarchy type vibes. But things will be explained in the story of course.

FOR THE TERRY RICHMOND GWORLS ———- Operation Valor follows CYPHER a special team created by the military. In the story, they uncover a huge domestic and international scheme to disrupt the state of the USA. ( HERE ) co-written with @zillasvilla

R.E.L.Ls ———— Dom!Terry Richmond has found a new submissive and he puts her through training that pushes boundaries and his own resolve.

Part One

Part Two

I may have a solo Randy Orton story as well. I just have a ton of ideas to sort through.

Plus my random shorter works.

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 3

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Your third session with Dr. Richmond gets more intense as he finally figures out how best to help you. He makes you dig deeper and uncover uncomfortable truths about yourself.

Word Count: 4,751k

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link

A/N: Alright now, I'm feeling a smidge bullied about this series. I am very thankful that ya'll love my series and while I know that it's out of love, I have a squirrel brain and bad noodle days. I would never want to put out a subpar fic. So the best way to encourage me is tell me what you liked about the fic! I have a praise kink, babes. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry

Terry sat in the office breakroom stirring his tea while it steeped. He had your file spread out on the small round table as he went over it one last time before your appointment today. Though, it remained a mystery if you’d actually show.

For the past week, he had been pouring over your file backwards and forwards trying to glean what you weren’t saying. What you were holding yourself back from saying. He didn’t usually like to bad mouth his professional colleagues, but their notes were sloppy; and that was putting it mildly. 

Terry rolled the tea bag around the spoon to squeeze excess water out and then placed it on the napkin beside his mug. He sighed and stretched, stuck too long already in one position. 

It was clear that he couldn’t bully you into opening up. That wasn’t what you needed. You were already on the precipice. So much of your insights were spot on. You didn’t really need him, but you needed a guide. Someone to mentor you or mold you…no, that wasn’t it.

Terry scratched out the word on the notebook he started for you. It’s not molding you, you already have a strong foundation. You weren’t putty for someone to play with. You were more resilient, more open, more determined. 

So if not mold…Terry rubbed his short goatee and adjusted himself on the orange plastic chair. He thought a change of scenery would help give him an attack plan. A way to approach your next session, but he was at a loss. He was uncomfortable in these cheap ass seats, for starters. And the ideas weren’t coming in the quiet, rigidly styled break room.

It was like playing wack-a-mole with you. Every method he thought of, you shot down. Every time he thought he had a way into that pretty head of yours, you switched gears. It was challenging and frustrating and exciting as hell. 

His pen hovered over the notebook, full of crossed out words and methodologies he could try. And for the first time in a long while, his mind was blank. He had nothing. How did he combat nine therapists and a woman hell-bent on doing everything herself? 

“Hey, Dr. Richmond! Funny seeing you here!” Dr. Crawford waltzed into the breakroom and opened the nearest teak cabinet. He pulled down a mug that proclaimed him as the best dad ever and he hummed to himself as he poured himself some coffee. 

Terry eyed the older man with a bushy mustache but a “dad” demeanor. He treated everyone kindly and he came highly recommended for good reason. He seemed to zero in on everyone’s problems like he had a nose for it. 

“Dr. Crawford. I’d actually like your help with something,” Terry said.

“Me? Oh, cool. Cool,” Dr. Crawford paused as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Regaining himself, he patted down his army green button up and approached Terry’s table. 

Terry flipped your file closed and made more space for Dr. Crawford. The older man sat down with a quiet huff and sipped loudly at his coffee. Terry hoped his face didn’t reveal his disgust, but the man was a good guy. Just a bit odd. 

“What’s on your mind?” Dr. Crawford asked, placing his mug down on the table. 

Terry rubbed his hands while he thought over how to approach his question without coming off like a creep. His feelings for you were strictly professional. Okay, maybe not strictly but Crawford didn’t need to know that.

“I have a female patient, difficulty achieving climax, well-researched, with issues with control. We’ve had two sessions so far and usually I’d wait for more data, but at the moment, she’s been through nine therapists,” Terry said.

“Nine?” Dr. Crawford asked.

Terry smirked and nodded. “Nine. She’s committed to the process and seems willing to try new things, but I’m concerned that I can’t find my baseline with her. She’s been through so many therapists, she’s done copious research on her own, like…how do I compete with that?” Terry asked. 

Dr. Crawford took a few sips of his mug and stared out of the windows towards the cityscape. “Nine therapists, you say? And no one’s helped her?” Dr. Crawford’s bushy mustache moved with his frown. 

Terry fought off a smile. Dr. Crawford hadn’t even met you and he was reaching conclusions faster than Terry. Nine therapists was a lot for anyone to not find any kind of solution. 

“I ask probing questions, I’ve given her some things to think over, but it’s only going to work if she’s willing to do all of it,” he said. 

“My advice? Start from the beginning. Find a way for her to trust you. If she’s been through nine therapists, I imagine they’ve done everything under the sun already. And if she’s as well-read as you say, you better come up with something better before she’s on to number eleven,” Dr. Crawford said. 

Terry chuckled. “Right, because she’s done it all, said it all…”

“And yet no one’s gotten to the core of the issue. You can talk solutions all day long but if you don’t know what the hell you’re treating, you’re just wasting her time,” Dr. Crawford said and knocked on the table. “It’s not competing against the others. It’s erasing them completely.”

Terry mulled that over as he took some notes. He liked that. It wasn’t molding you, more like shaping you. Stripping away all the misconceptions and untruths and whatever it was that you’ve read thus far. Everything your previous therapists had tried. His job was to uncover who you truly were.

Reveal…uncover…sculpt…that was it. He was merely helping you sculpt the woman begging to be let out. You were a sexual goddess trapped in marble. You were already there, just unpolished. He had to chisel his way there, not jackhammer it. You didn’t need kid gloves but you needed more finesse. 

Terry smirked as his pen scratched against his notepad, jotting down idea after idea. He hoped you showed. He hoped you took a chance on him and let him help you. Let him be your tenth and final therapist. And then release you to whatever bum caught your eye. 

“This is incredibly helpful, thank you Dr. Crawford,” Terry said. He threw away his trash and then gathered his tea, your file, and your notebook. 

Dr. Crawford’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his neck turning cherry red. “Oh, I’m sure you would’ve gotten there without me,” he said with a wave. 

“I’m sure I wouldn’t have. See you around,” Terry said, tapping Dr. Crawford on the back. Talking to him reminded Terry of his own father. A tall, imposing man who was larger than life yet nothing but a gentle giant. 

Terry exited the break room and steamrolled down the bland, drab hallway towards his office. His mind filled with more ideas than he knew what to do with. New things to try. New things to explore. If you let him, he would show you exactly what you needed. 

He rounded the corner in time to see you step back from his office door. He stopped in his tracks and watched you for a moment, watched your unguarded expression as you hovered. You were dressed in dark jeans and a red sweatshirt, a small purse over your shoulder, and you clutched your journal against your chest. Your hair was neatly styled and it fit you. 

Many expressions played across your sweet face. You had a tilt to your head and a lilt to your mouth. He would pay top dollar to know what you were thinking. What mental battle you waged inside. Or whether or not you’d knock on the door.

&&&

You

You sighed and rubbed your head. You had been debating if you would attend today’s appointment or not. You felt less than grown up storming out of his office. He must’ve thought you were the biggest goof in the world. 

You fought yourself the entire ride over, constantly looking at every corner as an opportunity to escape. To flee. But you kept passing it up because each corner also tasted terribly like defeat. 

In two sessions, Dr. Richmond had you re-thinking everything. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he had a big brain to back it up. And damn if it wasn’t working. You wanted more. You wanted to explore everything about yourself. 

Living in your body was painful. But god, you felt so alive. The numbness receded with each passing day as you practiced. You needed to see it through. So with a rumbling gut and sweaty palms, you forced yourself to stay on the road and attend your appointment.

You sighed. This was going to be fucking painful. You raised your hand to knock when soft footfalls sounded behind you.

“No need,” Dr. Richmond said. 

You turned to your right to see him come to a complete stop in front of you. Sugar Honey Iced Tea, he was dreamy. He wore a tan colored long sleeved T-shirt and dark navy pants. The sleeves were rolled on his forearm, veins poking out in his deep almond skin, peeks of tattoos, and he held a mug in his hand. His other hand clutched a notebook and a thick file. Your file. 

You looked from it to his hands to his forearms. Your eyes pinged everywhere on him but his face. Dr. Richmond cleared his throat and tilted his head.

You pinched your lips together and smiled, your eyes crinkling at being caught staring. “Dr. Richmond, great - uh - good to see you,” you said. God, if you listening, strike now, please. Please. Please? 

“I’m glad you’re here. I feared I would’ve been alone for the next hour,” he said. 

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I was definitely debating. But I said I was committed, and I meant it,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and then waved his hand forward. You opened the door and held it open for him to enter behind you. You practically skipped to the couch and stood awkwardly in front of it. You held onto your journal but threw your purse on the coffee table.

You watched as Dr. Richmond deposited the mug, notebook, and your file on his desk. You watched the long length of his body, drooling at the fluid way he moved. He must live in the gym or something.

His shirt hinted at a rock hard body, but you wanted to see more. And that was totally the wrong thing to think about your sex therapist. You huffed and looked away from him, up towards the ceiling. 

There should be a law against attractive authority figures. He should be banned from the profession. Retire and go on somewhere. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped. “Would you like it open?” Dr. Richmond asked.

“Nope, I’m good,” you said. You turned to him and gave him a wide smile. “I’m just nervous.”

Dr. Richmond smiled and put his hand in his pocket. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re in charge here, remember that,” he said.

You nodded and watched as he crossed the room. Instead of going towards his chair, he perched next to the desk and faced you. “Before we get started, I want to clear the air. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I approached our session wrong and I apologize,” he said. 

“In what way?” You asked. 

“I assumed that with so many therapists that you didn’t need the song and dance. That you didn’t need the introductory session,” he said.

“No, that was right. I need a push. I know I have more issues to work through than I thought. And so far, everyone’s just been coddling me. Treating me like what I’m feeling is in my head. And I spend all my life in this motherfucker. I know it’s not in my head. Sorry for saying motherfucker,” you said and smirked. 

Dr. Richmond rocked back on his heels and matched your smirk. He nodded his head. “Then we can both move forward together,” he said. He moved around his desk and then sat in his high backed chair. He pulled the mug towards him and blew on the steaming mug. 

His lips should not look so damn kissable. Lush and pink, he had big sexy lips that just made you want to kiss forever. He was a work of art made real. He took a sip from his cup and then pulled the notebook and your file closer. 

“Have you been keeping up with your homework?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yup. Living in my body. Feeling my feelings. Admiring myself,” you said. You finally felt calm enough to sit down on the couch. You stared at the Lego set in the zen garden and shook your head. 

“And?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and opened your journal and flipped to the pre-appointment jitters. You listed main points that you didn’t mind sharing with him. You told him all about what experiencing living your body felt like. 

It was scary and there were times that you slipped back into your head without realizing it. Zoning back in was always painful, like stepping into the sun after sitting for a three hour movie. You talked about how strange it was to feel like you had been asleep all this time, pushing everything to the back of your mind.

Later, later, another time, when you weren’t so busy. But you were always busy. Always running and moving and thinking and stressing. 

“That must be exhausting,” he chimed in. 

“You have no idea,” you said. Your shoulders dropped from around your shoulders and you mentally groaned. This was going to turn into your Sisyphus. You were going to kick that healing rock up the mountain and just when you thought you’d finally make it, you’d just go tumbling back down. Hope, you fickle bitch. 

You and hope had a toxic codependent relationship. It didn’t really fuck with you like that, but you kept letting it back in your heart. 

“Where do you think this need to cut yourself down before someone else does come from?” Dr. Richmond asked.

You fanned yourself and gaped at him. “Buy me dinner first at least, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You shared a laugh with him and shook your head. “So I wouldn’t be disappointed with my parents when they didn’t give me the reaction I wanted for my accomplishments.” 

Dr. Richmond leaned forward, his eyebrow shooting up above the golden rim of his glasses. “You really do over-analyze yourself,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s a compulsion. If I don’t, the world burns,” you said softly. Your eyes pricked with tears but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You weren’t going to shy from this. You weren’t going to disappear into your mind. 

Dr. Richmond took another sip of his mug but to his credit, he didn’t write anything down. That would have somehow been embarrassing. You waited while he sat there and you busied yourself with picking at your nails. 

“We need a fresh start,” Dr. Richmond said. He picked up your file and then opened a drawer. He dropped the folder and the metal popped with the weight. He closed the drawer and then faced you. 

“I’m not your tenth therapist. I’m your first. If you let me, I’m going to help you achieve what you want. You’re going to find sexual satisfaction whenever you want. Whether that’s alone or with a partner,” he said. 

“That’s what I want,” you said.

He nodded and then gripped his mug but he didn’t bring it to his lips. “You said if you didn’t over-analyze yourself, the world would burn. Do you believe the world will literally burn or do you just think something bad will happen?” 

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans and scooted forward on the couch. “Rationally, I know that’s impossible. But irrationally? I’ve never been brave enough to test it,” you said. 

Your mind spun at a thousand hertz per second. It never shut up. Never stopped rolling. Never stopped running. Never stopped with the constant chatter in your mind. You didn’t know what would happen if you had a calm mind. The only time you got some semblance of relief was when you were high.

And even then, your mind was still running in the background. Popping up with new tabs constantly. Because if the chatter stopped, you’d have to face the silence. And you just didn’t know how you’d act. Or if the world would burn. All you knew was that your mind kept spinning and so did the world. 

“Tell me about how you were treated as a teen. How did your parents treat you and how did your peers at school treat you?” He asked.

You giggled. “Okay, if not dinner, then ice cream? I’m a simple cookies n’ cream girly,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “Jokes are just a way to procrastinate,” he said. Goodness that voice. That subtle twang in the back of his throat that hinted of a Southern background. 

You huffed and leaned back on the couch. No one said healing was easy. So you told him. You told him about your over-analytical helicopter parents who were so fearful of something happening to you that they placed you in an invisible bubble. 

They had to know where you were at all times, they had to know your friend’s parents and have them on speed dial, they asked after your every move, and you asked permission before even thinking about going in the fridge. 

You had to become hypervigilant and pick up on cues that your mother was going to grow a second head from all her yelling. You never knew when she would give you a kiss on the cheek or yell at you for no reason. You had to scan her face for microexpressions, trying to gauge which way the wind would blow with her. 

As for your friends…they were cool for what you had at the time. You were no longer friends with them as they’d moved on and left you in the dust. But at the time, any little weird thing you did they poked fun at. And if it wasn’t them, it was the boys in your class. As if you couldn’t step a toe out of line without someone pointing it out for everyone to hear. 

If you jumped onto a chair, then people would turn and stare. If you waved your hands, there were three people there to call you weird. And if you joked and sung badly on purpose, people thought you were serious and made fun of you for being tone deaf.

You tried on plenty of personalities throughout the years, trying to mix and match what people expected of you. You eventually grew comfortable with being weird but that hypervigilance never left you. 

“Would you say you feel safe to be yourself at all?” Dr. Richmond asked. 

You twisted your lips and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what that is. My mom read my diary once and I never wrote anything down ever again. Until you gave me my homework,” you said. 

&&&

Terry 

You just…listened so well. He knew now that it was a product of your upbringing, being the child who was only seen and never heard. Marching to hundreds of orders given by your overbearing mother and absent in spirit father. 

Add onto that that your peers at school treated you as if there was something wrong with you, it was impossible for you to become comfortable. To achieve safety of mind and body. Who could explore themselves like that? When so many conspired to convince you that you weren’t a person deserving of grace? 

Terry took a sip of his mug and watched you deflate further. Like every truth you kept trapped inside was what kept you animated and full. Without it… 

Terry stood up and rounded his desk, somehow needing the boundary out of the way. Maybe he’d sit in the other chair opposite the table from you from now on. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

Fuck. You never even had a chance. He prayed that you hadn’t been abused or hurt by anyone ever. It was a miracle that you didn’t have a string of abusive ex-boyfriends or a thicker medical file in a hospital somewhere. Sweet, open women like you deserved to be cared for. Protected. 

You were a sub in more ways that you realized. And his fondness for you, his attraction, only grew with each session. How? How would he let you go when you graduated from his help? 

“I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to really think before you answer,” he said. He replaced his glasses on his face and tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. This was a hard question but it needed to be asked. 

You leaned forward, clutched your journal to your chest, and pinched your lips. But you nodded and mimed zipping your mouth. 

“Who said they were right?” He asked.

He watched as your face smoothed out to an adorable blank. Your mouth flattened as you looked at him. Again, he wished more than anything to know what you were thinking. What questions raced in your mind. 

He grew concerned when you continued to stare without saying a word. But he didn’t interrupt. He wanted to see where you took it. What you would do. So as you stared, he stared. 

He took in your sweet, rounded features. Your adorably styled hair. The red in your sweatshirt highlighted your beautiful brown skin. You finally took a deep breath and then stared up at the ceiling.

“In all my life, no one has ever asked me that,” you said. You brought your hands to your eyes and swiped at them. You needed to let them fall but he wasn’t going to push you on that right now. 

You stood up and then rubbed your forehead as you paced back and forth. He continued to watch you self-soothe right before his eyes. He wondered if you were conscious of that too. Did you miss anything? 

“And…people just accept it when everyone seems to agree that you’re uncool or weird or whatever, ‘cause of what you said about the group thing. People want to fit in and belong but…no one died and made them the fucking authority on what’s cool. No one put them in charge and they’re not the popular police,” you said as you continued to pace like a ping pong ball. 

“Misery loves company. Hurt people hurt people. However you wanna spin it, nothing brings people closer together than hating the same thing or same person. There’s a sense of validation when people agree with you. And people think mob mentality only applies to bad situations, but it applies everywhere. Because there’s safety in numbers, people would rather go with the flow than be singled out.” 

You threw up your hands. “Why didn’t I learn this years ago? And now I just feel stupid for it never even occurred to me that they weren’t right,” you said. You sat down on the couch with a huff. 

Terry put his hands in his pockets and smirked. He glanced at the clock. He didn’t have you for much longer. He flexed his jaw at the thought. What he wouldn’t give. 

“You shouldn’t feel stupid. Think about what kind of environment you were raised in and continue to live in. You had to be aware to avoid danger. To avoid being singled out. You had to adapt to survive. That takes courage and bravery. You did what you had to do to survive and that’s all anyone is doing.

“But you don’t have to just survive anymore. You get to choose. You get to choose right here and now to live. Live with your whole body because you are here, you are perceivable, you matter, and you can take up space and the world will be fine,” he said. 

Tears swimmed in your eyes and you stood up to face away from him. You faced the window and your shoulders shook. You gripped yourself in a low hug, not making a single sound. 

Terry moved to his desk to grab the box of tissues silently. He made noise so that you knew he was approaching and he placed the box on the end table under the window. You turned your body from him but grabbed a tissue and swiped at your eyes. 

The only sounds he heard was the tick of the clock on the wall and your random sniffles. The shake in your shoulders subsided bit by bit until you looked up at the ceiling. 

Terry remained close by so that you knew you weren’t alone.

&&&

You

Fuck, you felt like a fucking idiot. All these years. Nine fucking therapists. Shitty boyfriend after shitty boyfriend. Your mother’s latest tirade and your father’s empty shrug. All for this man to ask you the one question that shook you to your core. 

Who said they were right? Who said? Who gave them the right to make you think that there was something wrong with you? That your very existence was a plight on the world and it’d be better if you weren’t there? 

Who fucking said? 

It was all so simple and yet complicated. You hung your sense of safety on the need to “do the right thing at the right time”. If you did something “normal”, then no one could make fun of you, and you passed through another day fooling everyone with your disguise. 

And fuck! Wasn’t that freeing? Your chest ached and your eyes pricked with unshed tears, but it was already embarrassing that Dr. Richmond witnessed you crying. You liked to reserve that for sappy, cheesy romance movies on Netflix. 

Your heart felt heavy, weighing down your chest to a near uncomfortable level. You knew you needed to release all of it but not now. Not after only three sessions with this man. 

Who was he? Why was he like this? Where the fuck did he come from? 

“I see why they pay you the big bucks now,” you said, wiping at a tear that dared escape your eye. And you had a random ache in your belly? Feelings were weird. And sticky. Like constantly stepping on glue traps plastered all over the kitchen floor. 

“Why did you place so much bearing on their opinions?” Dr. Richmond asked. You liked that he had stayed close by while you broke apart. It was so rare that you did it in front of others. You were glad that he wasn’t the hugging type. Or the one who filled the room with hot air about how much it was needed and you should let go. 

“Because I don’t want to be alone forever. I want proof that I mattered to someone,” you whispered. You sniffled but held back the tears. You blinked a few times and held firm. Later.

“How can you matter to anyone if you don’t matter to yourself?” Dr. Richmond asked softly. 

The clock ticked in the background and you glanced at the clock. You were a little over your session and you were thankful that the next person hadn’t barged in. You wiped your face once more and then turned to Dr. Richmond.

He stood with his hands in his pockets and a kind smile on his face. His biggest strength was that he was unassuming despite his size. He knew when to use it to his advantage and when to switch it off. He was in tune with those around him and it was rare to find a man with a calming aura. 

“I matter to myself but probably not as much as I think,” you said. “I’ll work on that too.” 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Your homework is to practice loving yourself. Speak kind words, think nice things about yourself, and remember that your brain is a big ass liar,” he said.

You giggled and ducked your head. “Alright, alright. I’ll be nicer to myself. You missed your calling as a mind reader, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You grabbed your journal and purse from the couch and coffee table and then exited the room, feeling way lighter than when you went in.

Wheww! Need some more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2

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FAVORS (2)

Part Two

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slight smut, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

“Fuck.” He grunted through gritted teeth, looking down at her as she went to work on him. 

She stuck her tongue out and ran it up the bottom of his shaft moaning from the sweet taste of him, never tearing her gaze from his. She wrapped her red stained lips around the head of his dick slightly sucking, drinking the pre-cum that oozed from it. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?” She spoke softly, kissing down the length of his dick.  

He lifted his head to get a better view of her. He struggled a bit, giving that he was flat on his back, limbs stretched and bound to the bed. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to completely fold under her spell. It was becoming harder and harder by the second as she continued building his anticipation. 

She ran her tongue back up to the tip again before taking in every inch of him at once. He could feel her throat become narrow, causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten. After a few seconds, she raised her head and brought her eyes back to him.  

“Since the first day I met you.” She admitted, spitting the saliva that had built from her throat onto the tip of his dick.

“Oh shit.” He watched in awe as she bit her lip, admiring her mess. She was so damn pretty and so damn nasty. 

“If you’re good, I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is all because of you…” 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP* 

Terry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his alarm going off. He rested a heavy hand on top of the loud clock silencing it. Waking up 6:00 sharp every morning on the weekdays was his new norm. He sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom in his small apartment. 

His morning routine was very simple: shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, oatmeal for breakfast and a protein shake for the road. He dressed in his usual uniform, gray t-shirt and khaki pants, sure that he was in dress code for work. 

‘1 Text Message from Summer’ 

Summer: Goodmorning, have a good day at work. Stop by afterwards, got something for you. 

Terry: Goodmorning, be there as soon as I clock out. 

With that, he hopped in his truck and headed off to another long eight hour shift on the job. 

The break room was filled with all of the morning shift workers waiting around until it was time to punch the clock and get to work. Most of them were preparing their usual morning coffees, others rushing to finish the last of their breakfast.

Terry greeted everyone as he headed over to the television, grabbing the remote to flip through the channels. 

“Goodmorning gentlemen.” Khloé greeted the break room full of men, causing everyone to fall silent. 

“Morning Ms. MacArthur!” The men greeted back in unison.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him standing in front of the television watching the morning news. 

“Mr. Richmond!” She called out. 

He turned his head to look in her direction, his body still facing the tv. 

“Yes ma’am?” 

“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak with you in my office.” 

This earned Terry a few looks, some riddled with skepticism others just being plain immature. He placed the remote back into its designated spot and turned to follow behind her. 

They made their way down the long hall toward her office. He looked down at her legs, each step directly in front of the other as her heels clicked in a rhythm. The tall heels elongated her smooth legs, free of any marks or blemishes. He was trying his hardest to remain a gentleman but the way her ass moved with each step reminded him that he was still a man at the end of the day. 

She opened the door to her office and held out her hand signaling for him to enter. Her back was pressed against the tall door as he stepped into the office looking around the room. 

“Have a seat.” Khloé pointed to the large chair. 

Terry obliged. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’ve learned a lot about you in the last twenty-four hours.” She closed the office door and walked over to the desk, standing directly in front of him. “You’re one hell of a guy.” 

Terry sat quietly, unaware of what she was talking about. 

“I mean look at you, you scream ‘good guy who takes down bad guys’.” 

“I’m not understanding.” Terry stated, looking up at her. 

“I’m talking about Shelby Springs-“ She began, pushing herself back onto the desk. Her legs crossed at the ankle, hanging as she looked down at him. “-taking down those cops all by yourself. I’m impressed.” 

She went on to tell him what she had gathered from the news article but he couldn’t focus on her words. The way her mouth moved as she spoke, that bright red lipstick she wore brought back memories in an instant. Images begin to flash in his mind as he slowly remembers… 

The dream. 

The dream he had last night of those same lips wrapped around his dick made him shift in the chair, sitting up straight. He was hoping to hide the excitement he was beginning to feel the longer he stared at her mouth. 

He stared for so long they were beginning to move in slow motion. Her teeth were a natural white color, perfectly aligned and her choice of lip stain brought out her deep cupid's bow. The way her lips pursed every time she said “Richmond” was making him harder by the second. 

“Mr. Richmond?” She repeated, bringing him back into reality. 

“Ma’am?”

“Is there something in my teeth?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“No ma’am, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay, I’m just so used to your gorgeous eyes and that strong eye contact. I thought something may be wrong with my mouth.” She giggled. 

‘It’s not around my dick.’

“Forgive me, but I kinda zoned out. Could you repeat that last part?” 

“I said you’re a brave man. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did all by yourself.” 

Terry looked down at his lap and back up at her. “I had some help but thank you.” 

“It must’ve been really hard for you though, with your cousin passing, you being shot and all.” 

“It was tough but I’m okay.” 

She continued staring at him admiring his humble attitude. He could’ve easily walked around with his chest poked and God-like complex but truly he was just an innocent man. She loved that though, the more innocent he appeared to be, the more damage she could do to him.

“I saw that they took all of your savings from you. Did you ever get it back?” She asked. 

“Only enough to post his bail but that’s it.” 

“What were you planning to do with the rest?” 

“Well I was hoping to head out of town and start fresh.” He responded. “But I’m here. I’m alive and well, so as long as I still have the ability to work, I can build back up to that point eventually.” 

“I mean $26,000, that’s a large amount to try and save up at a job like this, no?” Khloé knew what she was doing, trying to sniff out some desperation so she could have the upper hand when she put her offer on the table. 

“It is but it’s not impossible.” 

‘Determined.’ She thought to herself. 

She worried that his “can do” attitude would cause him to turn down her proposal. I mean overall he wasn’t just some broke down victim of racism, he was just a man playing the cards life had dealt him, with no complaints. 

“What would you say if I told you I could give you the rest? It was $26,000 right?” She smiled, trying to appear harmless.

Terry stared up at her in confusion. He had just met her only a day ago and now she’s offering him a large amount of money. He knew nothing in life was free and he could smell the proposition from a mile away. However, he was not interested. 

“Why would you do that?” He chuckled slightly. 

“I want to help you.” She lied. “Some of the men in my family were in the military as well. I couldn’t imagine what life would be like for them if all of their hard work went down the drain at the hands of a couple of racist pigs.” 

They sat in silence staring at each other, both parties trying their hardest to read the other. She couldn’t possibly think he was gullible enough to just accept money from a stranger without returning the favor. But he couldn’t be silly enough to turn down an offer like this.

“No thank you Ms. MacArthur.” Terry stood up from the chair preparing to leave the office. 

“I’m not done speaking with you Mr. Richmond-“ She spoke, stopping him in his tracks, her soft tone never wavering. “and I don’t take no for an answer.” 

Terry let out a deep sigh before turning to face her yet again. 

“I’m sure you could use the money right now. A better place to stay, a nicer car, overall financial security. That sounds good doesn’t it?” She was milking it as best she could.

Terry had to admit to himself, all of it sounded great. To go from living comfortably to $0 was a struggle he fought through daily. He could go to his old friend Mr. Liu for money here and there but he wanted to have his own so that he wouldn’t be a constant bother to others. 

“What could you possibly want in return?” Terry asked cutting straight to chase. 

“You.” 

The look on her face letting him know she was dead serious. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” 

Terry frowned in pure confusion, there was no hiding it this time. 

“And what do you want me to do?” 

‘To fuck me.’ 

The corner of Khloés lip turned up into a slight smirk before answering.

“My family’s having their annual banquet and every year I get flack for not having a date. I’m the youngest daughter and all of my siblings are either married with children or engaged.” She admitted. “I need a date for the banquet and for other events so I was just wondering if you could be my “boyfriend” until I don’t need you anymore?” 

Terry sat silently, replaying what he had just heard in his mind a few times. He was having a hard time believing that this beautiful woman needed to pay a man to be her boyfriend. Men would worship the ground she walked on.

“A woman like you needs to pay a man to be with her?” Terry questioned. “There has to be a catch to all of this.” 

“Sadly, it’s my reality.” She admitted. “There is no catch. A very independent and ambitious woman like myself who’s financially well off thanks to her family, has a hard time with men who want to feel needed… and in control.” 

“And if I decline?” 

“Well I really don’t like being told no, so think long and hard about this.” Khloé said before hopping off of her desk. “You can get back to me on it tomorrow with any boundaries you’d like to set in place and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.” 

She smiled at him, unmoved by his obvious discomfort. Terry stared at her for just a few moments before awkwardly turning and exiting the office. 

“Have a good day at work!”

“It’s open!” Summer yelled from the kitchen of her tiny home. 

Terry entered the home, pulling the screen door and walking into the living room. Summer and Terry had managed to maintain their friendship after all the shit they had been through in Shelby Springs together. 

“You got a package today from the city, it’s on the table.” 

Terry grabbed the large folder from the table, opening it as he looked over at Summer. 

“What you cooking in here?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter. 

“Just some soup, baby has a cold so I’m tryin’ my hardest to nurse her back to health.” Summer responded, stirring the soup slowly. “Seems like the more time she spends at that school the sicker she gets.” 

Summer had to enroll her daughter Bailey into the nearest public elementary school. The only problem was their lack of care and consideration for the children’s education and well being. This was the third time Bailey had been sick since the school year began. 

She didn’t want to send her to school to avoid the possibility of spreading the cold to other kids. But she also didn’t want Child Protective Services to revoke her full custody of her daughter because she misses so much school. 

“I really want her in the private school where my old coworkers' kids go. I just want her to get a good education and not have to be subject to the same conditions I had, you know?” Summer stated, looking over at Terry. 

“I understand.” 

“But the cost of tuition is just so much, I mean I get that it’s one of the only private schools around here but $10,000 for a 3rd grader is nuts, and that’s if I enroll her for just two years.” She said, shaking her head. “I just need her in a good school, just until I get the green light from CPS that we’re good to pack up and go.” 

Terry frowned as he saw the disappointment and sadness in Summers' face. He knew she wanted to be the best mother she could be and to prove not only to herself but to everyone else that she could successfully raise Bailey to be a phenomenal young woman. 

“That is a bit expensive but don’t lose hope, you never know what could happen in the future.” He spoke confidently, hoping to ease her worry she had for Bailey’s future but it wasn’t working. 

The more Summer spoke about this new school and her needing to pick up an extra job, the more Terry was revisiting Khloés offer in his mind. The thought of him posing as a rich girl's boyfriend for money was insane to him. But the look on Summers face pained him. The offer wasn’t sounding as crazy the more he imagined the peace she’d get knowing Bailey was in a good school.

“What’s in the folder?”

“Just some bullshit about Shelby Springs.” He responded, throwing the papers in the trash. 

“Work going okay?” 

Terry debated on telling her about his encounter with Khloé but decided against it. 

“Same ol same ol.” 

“I know it’s not what you were looking forward to doing but at least you got some good benefits. You being an ex-marine really helps in jobs like that.” 

“Yeah but I just wish Mike was here with me. I just wish my plan went through the way I wanted it to but-“ He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “-life is gone do what it wants… just gotta roll with it.” 

Summer nodded in agreement. 

“Mommy?” Bailey yelled from the back room. 

“Sorry, duty calls.” Summer said, running to her daughter's bedroom. 

“That’s okay, you take care of her. I’m gonna head out.” 

“Thank you for stopping by, I’ll be sure to bring you some lunch sometime this week!” Summer yelled from her daughter's room. 

“I’ll be looking forward to it!”

With that, Terry left Summers home and headed to his second sanctuary, the 24 hour gym. 

Terry grunted heavily as he lifted the barbell above his chest. He was doing his usual upper body routine. He’d inhale and exhale in the same rhythm as his movements. Inhale, lower, exhale, lift. Making his last set count he trained to failure and then placed the bar back onto its rack. 

He sat up on the bench resting in between the next workout, steadying his breathing. 

‘You know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?’

His head shot up as he looked in the mirror. The voice was so close, he thought someone was standing right next to him. The voice… her voice… it was so soft at the same time bold and insistent. 

He shook it off and stood, preparing for a set of bicep curls. He lifted the 30 lb weights in each hand and began counting to himself. 

1…

2…

5…

6…

‘Mr. Richmond?’ 

10…

11… 

‘…I’ll let you feel how wet this pussy is…’

“12!” He said in a loud grunt. He slammed the dumbbells down to the ground and placed his hands on his hips. He shook his head as he tried his hardest to shake the sound of her voice. There was no way this woman was having a hold on him and he barely knew her. 

It didn’t help that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. He had been so focused on getting his personal life on track, it left him no room for dating. Plus the women who were interested in him were so easy and a man like Terry loved a woman who challenged him.

“You done with those?” Another man in the gym asked Terry, bringing him back to reality for a split second. 

“Yeah man, go ahead.” He responded. 

It had only been a few hours and she was invading his mind. The more he tried focusing on his workout the more he’d hear her voice and see those lips. He knew the only way to get her off his mind was to do something he hadn’t done in a while. 

“I gotta have her.” He whispered to himself. 

Next work day… 

“Ms. MacArthur, there’s an employee in your office. He didn’t say why he needed to speak to you but he didn’t look too happy.” Olivia notified her. 

Khloé rolled her eyes, hoping it wasn’t another disgruntled worker complaining about their job. “Thank you Liv.” 

She walked to her office and opened the door, noticing the back of his head first. He sat there patiently waiting for her, never turning to acknowledge her presence. 

“Mr. Richmond, I’m so happy to see you.” Khloé smiled, placing her purse on the desk. 

He eyed her, taking in her entire figure this time. She was truly an attractive woman. Her hair was pressed straight and tucked behind her ears. She wore a black and white two piece skirt set and white stilettos matching the buttons on her top. Her skin was a rich deep caramel tone that always popped when she wore her signature red lip. 

Her attire was simple yet still screamed luxury. There wasn’t anything out of place on her, everything went together so perfectly. Which is why Terry was dying to figure out why a woman like her would be offering to pay a man like him to be with her. 

“My eyes are up here Mr. Richmond.” She smirked.

He locked his eyes onto hers and remembered why he was there. “I accept.” 

Khloés lips spread into a large smile.

“Of course you d-“

“But I have a few conditions.” Terry interrupted. “I only want $10,000 for myself, the rest needs to go to my family.” 

“Your family?” 

“Yes, they need some assistance and I’d prefer to give the majority of the money to them. It’ll ease their worries and mine.”

Khloés head jerked back in disbelief. Here he was again proving himself to be a humble man. Only wanting less than half of what she was offering for himself and the rest for his family. She almost felt bad for not telling him the whole truth about this “deal”… almost. 

“Well if that’s all you wan-“ 

“Allow me to finish.” Terry cut her off, again.

His strong, authoritative voice made her pussy tingle. She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat as she returned her attention to him. This was the first time she had actually been turned on by a hint of dominance from the opposite sex. Maybe because it wasn’t being forced. It just came natural to him. 

“I would like the check for $16,000 made out to this name and sent to this address.” Terry stated, sliding a small piece of notebook paper across the desk. 

‘Summer McBride, 555 Conner St’ 

Khloé took it and placed it into her purse for safe keep. 

“If this is going to put me in jeopardy of losing my job then tell me now because I really don’t like surprises.”

“It won’t, I promise.” 

“This needs to stay between us. I can be whoever you need me to be outside of work but when I'm here I'm just an employee, nothing more.” He stated firmly. 

They eyed each other for a few moments, almost as if they were in a standoff. Dominant vs Dominant, Alpha vs Alpha. But there could only be one and it was going to be Khloé. She took a deep breath before speaking, choosing her tone and words wisely. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware Mr. Richmond, but I'm the one calling the shots.” She said, leaning onto her desk. 

“You asked me for my boundaries and I'm giving them to you. What's the problem?” He asked leaning forward as well, resting his arms on his knees.

She smiled, pausing to take note of this. He wasn’t going to be an easy fix but she enjoyed a “project”. She decided to let him have this round. She would get her turn eventually. 

“No problem.” She continued smiling. “Now, my rules. Rule number one, be on time! I prefer to meet at my home a few hours before we head out so that we’re clear on our attire for each event. Rule number two, no ex-girlfriends or situationships. If you have someone, call it off, I-“ 

“If I had someone, do you think I’d be sitting in your office right now?” He bluntly asked, staring blankly at her. 

He was really testing her patience, not on purpose though. However she was still taking note of it all, planning to make great use of it in the future. 

“I don’t want any women popping up here or anywhere else asking for or about you. I don’t like for anyone to have one-up on me.” She continued. “Rule number three, speak when spoken to.” 

This earned her an unpleasant look from him. 

“There will be many people at the banquet, if they don’t ask you anything then you don’t say anything. Rule number four, don’t embarrass me, ever! I don’t do well with humiliation. Lastly, rule number five, you’re mine! Which means you need to carry yourself that way. Be mindful of who you interact with and how, I’m a very observant woman.” 

Terry sat unmoved. 

“Are we clear?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Terry smirked, scoffing at her bossy attitude. He wasn’t truly buying it though, he just thought it was cute. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I love the way you say yes ma’am, make it a habit.” 

He clenched his jaw as his dick jumped. The combination of flashbacks from the dream he had of her and the interaction he was having with her in real time was making it harder for him to remain stoic. 

“I will pay the $10,000 to you in small amounts at a time.” She started, “As long as you follow my rules, you get the payments on time. The moment you disobey me or go against our agreement, you deal with the consequences.” She was speaking to this grown ass man as if he were a child or her servant, which technically he kind of was. 

Terry still sat, this time admiring her bossiness. The way she was throwing out orders, the way she wasn’t beating around the bush or trying to cover up her controlling personality had him feening for her. And those damn lips… 

“Mr. Richmond?” She called out, snapping him out of his daze. 

“So when’s the banquet?” He asked, trying to hide the fact that he had zoned out once again. 

“Next Friday. I’ll send you my address so you can get fitted for your tux. We have a very strict dress code.” Khloé turned to her computer, before looking at him once more. “You’re dismissed.” 

Terry's lips spread into a smile as he stood up from the chair and exited the office. This was going to be a tough one but nothing he couldn’t handle… so he thought.

to be continued… 

[theereina]

The "Itch"

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), oral (female receiving), fingering, spitting, slight an*l, double penetration/stimulation, spanking, Soft Dom!Terry

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels. This is my first time focusing on sub-dom, so please be nice.

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 @firefly-graphics. 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: 🔥🔥🔥

Nadia had gone to bed earlier than usual. She had taken her first Pilates class today and foolishly went to the gym after. Every part of her body ached as a reminder of her session. She loved it, nevertheless. Her fiancé, Terry, had gifted her a 3 month membership at the local Pilates studio. She had shown interest after trying it at home using YouTube videos and equipment from Amazon. Terry had gone out and bought all her equipment and outfits way before her first class was even scheduled. This is why she loved him. His ability to breathe life into her hobbies and invest in her selflessly.

Nadia was lying on her belly with her arm under the pillow. Her hair was braided back into two puffy braids. She had sweated her hair out and was NOT in the mood to even touch it after the gym.

Nadia heard the faint sound of Terry's truck pulling onto the gravel driveway. She tossed in her sleep, facing the window in their upstairs master bedroom. His headlights flashed across the room as he drove closer to the house. She heard the truck come to a stop and the engine cut off. Terry opened and closed the doors of his vehicle collecting his things before walking to the front door. She heard his keys before the front door creaked open. The house went silent as Nadia waited for his presence.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs. Nadia turned to rest on her back. His footsteps were— different. They weren't light and graceful tonight. They carried a nagging weight. A weight Nadia could register from a mile away. Nadia sat up in bed, resting her back against the plush headboard. Her satin gown hung from one shoulder, and she wasn't wearing any underwear as Terry had always requested for bedtime.

She could hear his footsteps moving closer to the bedroom door. They were much louder than normal. Terry opened the bedroom door to find Nadia sitting up waiting for him. He paused to take in the simplicity of her natural beauty. Her natural hair braided back will always be one of his favorite hairstyles on her. It didn't matter if it was messy or professionally done. It made her look like an angel to him. The way the light brown satin gown lay on her glowy brown skin made her look like the finest of chocolates— smooth and sweet. The way that single strap hung off her shoulder slightly exposing the top of her large breast was the icing on the cake for him. He needed his Nadia— his baby girl. The yearning within Terry rose with every second that his gaze lingered on her.

Nadia waited with her hands in her lap while Terry stood in the doorway taking ALL of her in. Terry's eyes reflected the moonlight that glowed through the window. Nadia followed Terry's eyes up her body until they met her's. She nodded and smiled. Terry nodded back.

Terry admired that she was waiting for him without him asking. Terry looked into Nadia’s doe-brown eyes with enough lust to ignite the fire between her legs. Terry approached the bed and patted the edge. Without saying a word, Nadia pulled the covers back and crawled to the foot of the bed. She sat on her knees. She assured that she was close enough to feel Terry's energy but not touch him. She needed permission for that in these situations.

He leaned over and kissed the top of Nadia’s head and her forehead. He cupped her chin in his hand and brought her face to his. His stare was heavy and demanding. He bit his bottom lip before speaking. “Daddy's got an itch, baby girl,” he said kissing Nadia’s lips. Nadia placed her hands in her lap and drew in a breath. “What's your remedy, Daddy?” Nadia said playing with the bottom hem of her gown. It was barely covering halfway past her thick thighs and from the right angle he could definitely see she had followed the no panties rule.

“First, are you okay?” he said placing his hands on the sides of her neck. “Yes, sir. I'm okay,” Nadia replied with a nod of her head. “Alright, baby girl. You okay with Daddy being hands-on during this session?” he asked. “Yes, sir. If hands-on is what Daddy needs, we can begin when he's ready,” Nadia said looking at Terry with the softest eyes.

“Thank you, baby girl. Wait right here, okay?” Terry said, standing up straight. Nadia nodded and looked down at her hands. She watched as Terry's work boots disappeared from her line of sight. She could hear him enter the bathroom. She heard the sink turn on and off. Terry was all about cleanliness whenever possible, so she assumed that he had washed his hands.

Terry returned from the bathroom shirtless and carrying his belt in his hand. “Eyes up,” he demanded. Nadia’s eyes rose to find his. “Are you gonna be a good girl fa’ me?” he asked crossing his arms. Nadia's eyes watched the belt as it rested on his chest. “Yes, Daddy. I promise,” Nadia said softly. “Baby girl, we use our big girl voice in this room!” Terry said shifting his weight to one side. “Sorry. I promise to be a good girl,” Nadia said louder. “Thank you, baby. Turn around. Flatten out. Arms out in front of you. You know how Daddy likes it,” he said while uncrossing his arms and dropping the belt since there was no longer a need to restrain her.

Nadia turned around and put her ass in the air. She flattened her body as much as she could against the mattress, deepening her arch. Her arms stretched ahead towards the headboard with her palms faced down. Her gown instantly rose over her ass, exposing all of her to Terry's hungry gaze.

“That's my girl. Ass up, face down. Remember to breathe,” Terry said inching closer to Nadia's backside. He began to rub and palm her ass cheeks. He pushed her gown up further so that it was around her waist. “Do you remember Daddy's rules?” Terry asked massaging her lower back. “Rule number one: count out loud. If I don't and Daddy can't hear it, it doesn't count. Rule number two: keep my hands to myself. That includes keeping them off of Daddy and me. Rule number three: Daddy doesn't like quiet bitches. He wants to hear me. Rule number four: Don't interrupt Daddy while he's having fun. Rule number five: I am a princess and slut. Act like it!” Nadia called out the list with pride as a smile spread across Terry's face.

Terry was a soft dom. He had no interest in being “hard”. He liked things light and playful, yet sexy and spicy. Nadia’s words carried more weight than his needs. “No” meant “no”, and he didn't believe in coercion. Nadia's answers were final. That's why check-ins and consent were so important to him. He would never make her do anything she didn't want to. Even if Nadia desired to do it to please him, it made him uncomfortable. In Terry's mind, this was really Nadia's playroom, and he was just the keeper.

“Ready, love?” Terry asked adjusting himself between her legs. His thighs rested against the edge of the bed. Nadia nodded. Terry cupped her chin and turned her face towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry. Yes, sir. I'm ready,” she said turning her head back to face the headboard. He pushed her lower back down gently and angled her ass higher. He wanted to see all of her.

From this angle, Terry could see her pussy already beginning to glisten. He palmed her ass with one hand as he slid his fingers in between the lips of her pussy grazing her clit over and over again. Nadia let out a soft moan. Terry slid two fingers inside her pussy. “Does baby girl want a reward? I think you earned one. Daddy didn't even have to tell you to be waiting. Do you know how that makes Daddy feel, baby girl?” Terry said pushing his fingers in slowly. Nadia moaned and began clenching her fists.

“Like the king he is,” Nadia said lifting her head. She wanted to make sure Terry heard her. “That's right, princess. Good girl,” Terry said as he began to slowly fingerfuck Nadia. He curved his fingers upward aiming for her g-spot. Nadia clenched around his fingers. “Is that where my baby wants it?” Terry said working his fingers against the same spot over and over. “Yes, Daddy!” Nadia moaned out. “If that's what my baby wants, that's what she gets,” Terry grunted. His fingers began to pick up speed. Nadia’s body jerked forward slightly pushing Terry's fingers out. “Noted,” Terry said in a low grumble.

That meant Nadia had made a mistake. An amount was added to whatever Terry decided— spankings, orgasms, denials, etc. With her in this position, she was adamant that a spanking was happening shortly. “Sorry, sir!” Nadia blurted out. Terry tapped her lower back, letting her know he at least acknowledged her apology. There was no such thing as deductions.

Nadia could feel herself approaching her climax. This orgasm was going to be a strong one. She could feel Terry shift behind her. Terry leaned his head down and opened his mouth letting saliva fall onto Nadia’s pussy. He removed his fingers and dragged them down towards her clit. He began to use the pads of his fingers to rub her swollen clit. He pushed the thumb from the same hand into her pussy.

He leaned over to glance at the side of Nadia's face. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth. “Your reward,” Terry announced. He dragged the thumb from his other hand over her asshole and pressed lightly. He knew that one of Nadia's biggest kinks was double penetration/stimulation. Nadia’s moans immediately grew louder. Terry pressed his thumb into her asshole a little more, passing the rim. Nadia began fisting the bedsheets in front of her. A smile spread across Terry's face. He loved it when she reacted like this. Terry began making small circular motions with his thumb still inside her.

His other hand was still playing with her pussy. “For being such a good girl, you can cum whenever you like,” Terry said quickening the pace of his hands. He needed Nadia to cum hard. He loved making her orgasm. “Daddy, I'm close!” Nadia whimpered loudly. “I know baby. I can feel it. Can you let Daddy have it? Let it out, baby,” Terry cooed. It was as if that was all it took for Nadia's pussy to explode. She came all over Terry's hand that was covering her pussy. He rubbed her clit faster pushing her orgasm out.

Terry smiled at the moans Nadia was releasing as each one egged him on. “That's my baby. You did all that for Daddy,” he said leaning down and kissing up her spine. With each kiss, Nadia released more small moans. “Fuck!” she yelled out.

Terry leaned back up. He watched as she came down and leveled her breathing. “It's time, princess,” Terry said massaging Nadia’s lower back with both hands. She quickly repositioned herself. “Good girl. Ready?” Terry said flexing his fingers. “Yes, Daddy. I'm ready,” she replied closing her eyes. She had learned that anticipating the hits made them hurt worse. She loosened her hips and spread her legs a little more. She liked when his hits got a little wild and struck her pussy just a little.

“Begin,” Terry announced.

smack

“One!”

smack

“Two!”

smack

“Three!”

smack

“Four!”

After every couple of smacks, Terry would gently massage Nadia’s ass cheeks. Once they were past fifteen, Nadia’s pussy was aching again.

smack

“Sixteen!”

smack

“Seventeen!”

smack

“Eighteen!”

Nadia was feeling the throb of every hit. She knew that she was welting or bruising by now.

smack

“Nineteen!”

smack

“Twenty!”

“Last one for your earlier indiscretion!” Terry called out.

smack

“Twenty-one!” Nadia whimpered again. Her hands were lost in the tangled sheets she had been fisting.

“That's my girl. Breathe,” Terry said taking notice of Nadia's pussy clenching on nothing. “You need something?” Terry asked stroking her clit again. “I'm so close, Daddy. Make me cum again, please!” Nadia screamed. She moaned as soon as Terry's fingers slipped inside of her again.

Terry leaned over and placed his free hand on Nadia's waist. He pulled closer to him while fingerfucking her pussy. He got down on his knees behind her on the floor. Using nothing but his flattened tongue he licked from her pussy to her asshole. His fingers left her pussy and found her clit again. He pointed his tongue and inserted it into her wet pussy. He moved his head back and forth while his tongue was inside her, thrusting into her like he was searching for her orgasm.

He wanted her to cum on his face, and he wanted it now. He pressed harder on her clit while continuing to pad it with his fingertips. His tongue went into overdrive. He wiggled his tongue along her walls as far as he could reach. Nadia was screaming now. “Daddy! Oh, fuck. I'm…ahh. Please, I'm…ughhh!” Nadia yelled. Her juices squirted out of her and flooded Terry's open mouth. He held his mouth over her catching everything he could. He licked over her entrance over and over again.

Once he was finished, he stood up from behind Nadia. He tapped her lower back before speaking again, “Turn over, baby.” Nadia flipped over so that she was on her back. Terry leaned down and grabbed her hands. “I love you, baby girl. You know that?” Terry asked, smiling down at her. “Yes, Daddy. I love you, too!” Nadia said panting.

Terry leaned over her body and began kissing all over her chest and neck, causing her to giggle. “I’ll take care of you in the bathroom and before you go back to bed. For now, rest. Okay, love?” Terry said locking eyes with her. His gaze was much softer now. Those greenish hazel eyes were gleaming. “Yes, sir,” Nadia answered leaning up to peck Terry on the lips.

Terry rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She heard the bath turn on. She could hear him searching through cabinets, opening and closing each one. “Eucalyptus or lavender?!” Terry yelled from the bathroom. “Both!” Nadia yelled back. She placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes. This was the most intense session she and Terry had done in a while.

Returning to the bedroom, Terry walked into their closet and grabbed two towels and her robe taking them into the bathroom. “Ready, baby?” Terry asked walking back out. “Yes, sir,” Nadia said letting out a yawn. “Tired?” “I was asleep when you came,” she said as Terry picked her up bridal style. “Sorry for waking you up,” he said kissing her forehead. “You can wake me up like this anytime you want!” Nadia laughed as they entered the bathroom. The steam rose from the bath. She could smell the essential oils he used. “Mmm,” she let out, taking a deep breath.

Terry put her down and stepped into the tub first. He held out his hand to guide her in. “Thank you,” she said. She sat down first with him sitting behind her. His back rested against the edge of the large Jacuzzi tub. Bubbles were beginning to cover their bodies. Terry reached around Nadia to turn off the faucet. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush to him. “Thank you, my love,” he said kissing her lips. “Anytime,” she said sinking back into his chest.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @persethegawd @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theglamclosetsl @nayaesworld @ariiijestertheklown

@androgynousgaz @insidefeelingofanadult @blyffe @mymindisneverhere @writingsbytee @revealingco @pocketsizedpanther @creartivefairy @disc0fairy @uzumaki-rebellion

@planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @vivaalenaa @5headsupremacist @slutsareteacherstoo @gg-trini

@beenathembo @babybratzmaraj @sageispunk @gwenda-fav @blowmymbackout @megamindsecretlair

@helloncrocs @chasingsunlight

[hotnew-pt]

Rebel Ridge | Novo filme da Netflix tem quase 100% de aprovação #ÚltimasNotícias #Brasil

Hot News UM Netflix estreou nesta sexta-feira (6) o drama de ação Rebelde Ridge, estrelado por Arão Pierre (Tempo) e Dom Johnson (Vigilantes). O filme tem incríveis 93% de aprovação dos críticos no site Rotten Tomatoes, uma das melhores avaliações de filme em 2024. Na trama, Terry Richmond (Arão Pierre) chega a Shelby Springs com uma missão simples, mas urgente: pagar a fiança do primo e…

[earthchica]

I want you

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry are roommates who are sexually attracted to each other; you have a habit of stealing his shirts, and Terry doesn't mind, but eventually, he confronts you about it.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f) fingering, unprotected counter/couch sex, size kink, roommates, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl) & more. words: 2k

note: oddly enough, this is based on a dream I had; it's kind of short. also, I used the first line from @kumkaniudaku, "Askew," as inspiration for a line I used. I wanted to give credit; you did your thang, lol. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts.

part two

It was a lazy, cozy Wednesday when you found yourself in your roommate, Terry's bedroom, about to steal one of his shirts while he was in the shower.

You twisted your lip, quickly grabbing the shirt off the bed and putting it on. Since you were short, it was like a dress on you. Most of his shirts were, and honestly, you loved them like that.

His shirts made you feel comfortable and safe, and smelled like him. You wouldn't admit this out loud, but you wanted him so badly, plus there was so much sexual tension between you two.

You smiled happily, put your glasses back on, and skipped to the kitchen to make dinner for you both. After a few minutes, Terry came out of the shower and dried off.

He walked into his bedroom, about to get dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but there was a problem. Where the hell did his shirt go?

"Bruh…what?" Terry huffed, looking everywhere for his shirt, and then his mind went to you, and he grew a smile. Terry grabbed another shirt from his dresser to put on and went to look for you.

Terry called your name, his voice echoing through the apartment. "Yeah?" You asked, keeping your breathing even while you were looking through the cabinets.

He paused at the kitchen doorframe, seeing you wearing his shirt confirmed his thought. Terry smirks, looking at his beautiful, petite, curvy roommate, swaying your hips to the music.

Terry loves seeing you wear his clothes; he always gets excited by the way your beautiful curves look in the shirt. He's developed a strong crush on you ever since you two became roommates.

Maybe this is his chance to make a move on you. "Earth to Terry?" You called his name, waving your hand in his face, and he blinked away from his daydreaming.

"Are you good?" you asked curiously, and he nodded with a slight chuckle, moving closer to you and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah! Is that my shirt?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You bite your lip and tilt your head, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, maybe. Is that a problem?" you asked teasingly, and he bit his lip. Your heart started to race as his hands reaching the hem of his shirt, pulling you towards him.

"Not at all; you know when I see you wearing my shirt, it does things to me," He whispered intensely in your ear. You couldn't help but whimper.

The intense and lustful look in the eyes was sincere; Terry was a tall, sweet giant just towering over your plump, short self, making you go immediately into submissive.

“Tell me to stop! Tell me if you don't want this, and I will,” Terry said, slightly crouching to press his forehead against yours. You felt your breath hitch as he stared into your eyes.

“Don't stop, Terry! I want you so bad,” You whispered, feeling his hands slowly slide down to grope and massage your ass lightly. Terry's soft breathing was soothing.

He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter before pressing his lips against yours; you moaned and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Wait, wait. Are you clear?” You asked, pushing him slightly away to look at him. His eyes had darkened, and he said, “Yeah, I’m clear. Are you?"

"Yes!" You answered, and he nodded. "Good, come here." Terry began kissing the exposed part of your neck, leaving little love bites. Slowly, he pulled the shirt over your head.

The cold air causes your nipples to become erect. "Terry please!" You moaned as you felt his erect, throbbing dick through his sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“Mmmm..fuck girl. Where have you been hiding these beautiful tits?” Terry asked, going suck your breasts, squeezing and playing with them.

"P-please…I need you!" You moaned, stroking him through his sweatpants, causing him to curse low.

“How much do you need me, baby?" Terry asked, looking into your eyes with this curious look that made your pussy more wetter than before.

“I need you so bad. I think about you all the time, Terry. I sometimes finger myself, wishing you were doing it,” You confessed honestly.

“Mmm, me too baby. Whenever I see you in one of my shirts, just want to bend you over and fuck you,” Terry confessed as his large hands gripped your plump legs.

He spread them slightly more before he dipped down, took your panties off, and ran his middle finger up your slit to collect your juices.

You bit your lip, feeling your body slightly shaking with excitement and pleasure. Terry pushes two fingers inside you, grazing your g-spot; he begins to thrust his fingers fast before slowing down abruptly.

"Terry, don’t stop, please," You whined, realizing he stopped for a second. "Touch me, please…I need you!" You moaned, his body standing in front of you.

"Patience, shorty, I'm gonna just do that!" You bite your lip from smiling at his nickname for you as he leans to kiss you, gripping your long, curly 4a hair for a second.

You moaned, feeling his throbbing length press against your thigh again. "You're so damn stunning, you know." He spoke into your soft brown skin, kissing down to your core.

"Mmmm…wet for me, baby?" Terry asked, spreading your legs out a little before you could get a word out. His hot tongue met your pussy, pressing against you.

“Yes, yes, ahh, yes,” You moaned, feeling him lick and run his tongue up your folds, flicking your clit and moaning into your core; he sent vibrations up your body.

You throw your head back, resting it against the cabinet and gripping the back of his head. You cry his name as he goes faster and places your leg over his shoulder while practically making out with your pussy.

Terry pulls away and slaps your pussy, causing you to moan. “Look at me while I’m eating your pussy, baby; tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, looking at you with those eyes and going back in.

“Ahhh…fuck Terry, It feels so good; your tongue feels amazing,” You cried as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, T. I'm gonna-" You cried out as your orgasm hit you like a wave.

Your head started spinning as his thumb circled your clit, his eyes following each expression on your face like he was memorizing it. You pulled him up, bringing his lips to yours.

So you could taste yourself, and you could move your hand down, taking his shirt off, and feel up his abs, prompting a moan from him, which makes you moan as well.

You pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, and he took him off completely. You got a feel of his dick, knowing it must be big, but just looking at it now.

It was thick, lengthy, and ready for some release. You felt slightly unconfident that you weren't gonna be able to take it all. “It’s so big, I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, baby! I know you can; we’ll go slow,” Terry encouraged, settling between your legs and pulling you into a kiss, containing your moans as his dick slid up and down your wet folds.

“AHHHH!” You gasped, feeling him slide inside you, filling you slowly. "You good, baby?" He asked, cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes for a second.

"Yeah...it feel good...Terry, just move, please." You moaned, feeling yourself clench around him, and he pulled you in another kiss again, before breaking apart to moan.

"You feel so good and tight, shorty," Terry said, making his thrusts slowly, and you feel yourself adjusted to his size. "Faster, please," You asked.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, and you nodded, “Yes, faster, Daddy!” Terry growled at you calling him Daddy, pulling you to kiss you, lifting you from the counter, and moving towards the couch.

“lil mama, If I go faster….imma fuck these glasses off your face. Are you sure?” He asked, laying you down in the corner of the couch before getting your answer.

“Yes, I want you to go faster and deeper, please.” You said with a smile, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer which made him grin.

"You drive me crazy," Terry said, taking his dick in his hand and sliding back into you, going faster and deeper. You grip onto his biceps, arching your back.

"Yes, just like that, ahh fuck me, oh my god. yes, this feels so good," You cried, slowly feeling your glasses coming off your face and dropping to your side.

"You like this, don't you, you like the way I'm fucking you?" He asked, and you nodded, crying out when he angled his hips and his pelvic bone slid across your clit. "Oh my god, Terry."

"Fuck, look at you. I told you you could take this dick; you gotta me feeling proud," Terry moaned, looking down at you, his voice deeper as he grunted with each thrust.

His lips are coming down to kiss your lips fast as his dick twitching inside of you. "Daddy, let me ride you," you begged as your nails dug into his arms.

"Shit! You wanna ride me, beautiful?" Terry asked, clutching at your waist. "Fuck yes, I do, please let me," You whimpered, and Terry chuckled at your desperation.

Terry groans softly as he pulls out of you and moves to sit in the middle of the couch. He leaned back against the couch, waiting for you, and you moved up, grabbed hold of his dick, and slid down slowly.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, just loving how he filled you so perfectly; his dick was so throbbing with this new sex position; it just made your eyes roll back.

Terry looked at you in rapture, groaned, and threw his head back. You bit your lip, grabbed his shoulders, bounced up and down, and made yourself throw it back.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that. Goddamn, jiggled that ass on that dick,” Terry moaned, closing his eyes for a second before looking up at you, watching your breasts match the rhythm of your riding.

"Oh fuck, I always imagine it being good, but I think it’s much more than that; it’s incredible, Terry!" You said, feeling him grabbing your ass cheeks with his hands.

You continued to bounce up and down his dick while holding the back of the couch. Terry pushed your arms to the side and slightly lowered himself before wrapping his arms around your back, going full beast mode.

You let out a loud chant of moans, feeling yourself get close to the edge. "Are you about to cum, baby?" Terry asked, giving your ass cheek smack.

You cried in response, happy tears coming from your face, and you have never had a man make you feel this fucking good ever in your life.

“Ahh yes…yes fuck me, fuck me through it, Daddy,” You cried, loudly going to bury your face into his neck. His hips smacked against your ass fast,

The sound of slapping skin was louder than any sound you'd made yet, and you felt the knot form in the pit of your stomach. You pulled back to look at Terry's face.

“Fuck, baby….shit this pussy” Terry moans as his dick twitches and swells deep inside you. You reached your high with a loud moan of his name. "AHH TERRY!!!!!!!"

Your inner walls clenched tightly around his dick as Terry reached his own a few seconds later, his body giving into the blissful pleasure while he pulled out and released himself.

He was panting heavily, his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist as his head rested against the couch. His breathing hit your brown skin, tingling it a little bit and the room fell silent.

The two of you finally calmed down from your intense orgasms. “Damn, that was fucking special!" Terry breaks the silence with a laugh.

“Yeah, it was, " you replied, feeling awkward and shy. You didn't know what to do after, so you quickly grabbed your glasses and moved off of him to put them on.

You tried to cover yourself up, but Terry stopped you. "Hey…don't get like that. There's no need to be shy now, especially after what we just did"

"I'm not being shy. I'm good. This was nice, um…I'm gonna go take a shower,” you said, not letting Terry say a word before dashing to your bedroom and leaving him dumbfounded.

You closed your door and leaned your head against it, feeling stupid for being weird like that, but it was for your own good; you knew you couldn’t let it happen again.

part 2?

[jimmybutlrr]

New post for fanfiction ( terry Richmond)

[umqraa-blog]

Warte przeczytania książki

Sierpień w większości miał reputację jednego z najwolniejszych miesięcy w branży rozpraszania, a pracownicy przemysłu wyruszają w długie podróże, aby robić ślady w przeciwnym kierunku od blasku i przesmyku letniego Nowego Jorku. W każdym razie nie poznałbyś go z obecnych zbiorów sierpniowych książek, które bez wątpienia są najbardziej orzeźwiającymi tytułami roku do tego momentu. Jeśli nie chcesz skanować materiałów, aby oderwać umysł od blasku, lub byś mógł pochwalić się na kilka ostatnich tygodni przed rozpoczęciem szkoły, zastanów się nad jednym z siedmiu znacząco przewidywanych książek z sierpnia:

„Żółty dom” Sarah M. Szczotka podłogowa: Dziennik z dzielnicy Luizjana w Broomie opisuje zapis cennego domu strzelby swojej matki we wschodnim Nowym Orleanie i rodziny, którą tam wychowała. Dom został zniszczony przez huragan Katrina, a Broom wyjaśnia nierówności rasowe i związane z pieniędzmi, które od dawna są odwiedzane w Nowym Orleanie. Eseista Heidi Julavits nazwał książkę „dziełem sztuki, zagadnieniami administracyjnymi, humanizmem i pamięcią”.

„Dobry dostawca to taki, który odchodzi: jedna rodzina i migracja w XXI wieku”, Jason DeParle: Ten dziennikarz z New York Times, dwukrotnie finalista Nagrody Pulitzera, opisuje różne epoki rodziny mieszkającej na Filipinach, w tym Rosalie, który przenosi się z Manili na Bliski Wschód do Galveston w Teksasie, gdzie przygotowuje się do zawodu jako opiekunka. Książka bada zagadnienia legislacyjne i zalety ogólnego rozwoju.

„Hard Mouth”, Amanda Goldblatt: wprowadzająca powieść twórcy Chicago Goldblatt szuka Denny'ego, technika laboratoryjnego mieszkającego w pobliżu Waszyngtonu, którego ojciec nie radzi sobie z chorobą. Denny, niezdolny do kierowania wiadomościami, wyjazdy do kabiny w górach i tak marzy o tym, by żyć nieskończenie ze społeczeństwa, nie jest tym, co pomyślała.

„100 Poems”, Seamus Heaney: Ukochany irlandzki twórca Heaney pozostawił ogromne otwarcie w dziedzinie refrenu, kiedy odszedł w 2013 roku. Ta nowa książka od dawna gromadzi 100 wierszy z różnych koncentracji w jego opowieści; spotkanie jest kuratorem jego rodziny.

„Miami Midnight” Alex Segura: Najnowsza powieść pisarza komiksowego i eseisty Segury jest piątą i ostatnią częścią jego planu gry agregatów chłodniczych kręgosłupa, w tym prywatnego operatora Pete Fernandeza. W tej, Fernandez zrezygnował zarówno z pijania, jak i kryminologa, zresztą wraca do życia prywatnego detektywa, gdy gangster żąda, by wytropił kata swojego młodzieńca.

„Dull Card”, Chris L. Terry: Słabo zabawna druga powieść od pisarza L.A. Terry'ego szuka nieznanego biracialnego podziemnego artysty wstrząsającego mieszkającego w Richmond w stanie Wirginia, który czuje się wycofany z afrykańskiego porządku społecznego. Dokładnie, kiedy legenda nie zdoła wydostać białego człowieka za użycie rasistowskiej obelgi, jego „ciemna karta” zostaje odrzucona przez jego przewodnika, a on postanawia go odzyskać.

„Trap Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion”, Jia Tolentino: kanadyjski dziennikarz Tolentino, wychowany w Teksasie dziennikarz, weteran „Spinki do włosów” i „Jezebel”, która obecnie tworzy dla „New Yorkera”, jest jednym z najwspanialszych uczonych społecznych wiek. W jej nowej kolekcji prac znajduje wyjaśnienia dotyczące sieci, od dwudziestu do wielu lat, praw kobiet i religii.