#pearl's color-picked-from-skin-skin-tones r shit

[nova-skittle]

what if i made a silly lim. life pearl design and put into a lockscreen size

[mymedicine]

Love and Other Drugs

or, 5k of new bf harry

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - yacht parties are cool and all, but harry really just wants to spend more time with his girl

warnings - alcohol (have I even written a fic where both mc’s are sober the whole time yet lmao), light sexy stuff (lil bit of ch*king k*nk if you squint), swearing probably, harry being a little shit, fluff to the maxxxxx

notes - good lord, this fic has been the absolute death of me. I stg, murphy’s law is real. anyways, the driving home scene is completely inspired by real life events that once made me swoon, but now I am lonely and so so tired so pls be nice to me thx much love <3

“Hold still!”

Harry whined and craned his neck away from his girlfriend’s hand, but he wasn’t able to go far with his back flush against the car door. “No baby, we’re already late!”

“But you’ve got jam on you!” Y/N cried. She reached her fingers up to rub the reddish marks off of his face, but, once again, he turned his head away like a stubborn child. “And we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t spent two hours combing your hair.”

“S not jam, it’s lipstick,” He insisted, deliberately ignoring her second (valid) point.

“Whatever. It’s on your cheek.”

Y/N made one final attempt to clean him up, but this time, he managed to escape the circle of her arms. He ran backwards toward the dock, taunting her playfully as he went, “Come on, baby!”

“Harry!” Given no other choice, she frantically pushed the lock button on the car key and chased after her child—er, boyfriend. She winced as her high heels hit the asphalt, feet aching against the gold sandals already. He’d slowed down a little to give her a break, but she was still panting as she yelled, “You can’t go to a fancy yacht party with lipstick on your face!”

He finally stopped running—thank God, because they were right in front of the ship and the last thing Y/N needed was to embarrass herself (or rather, be embarrassed by her man-child boyfriend) within sight of all the famous people that would surely be onboard already.

“But I like it.” He pouted as she reached him, entwining his fingers with hers before she could use them to try to scrub his face again.

Before she could reply, a familiar Irish accent boomed over the loud purring of the boat’s engine, “Harry! Y/N!”

Y/N really hoped someone was keeping an eye on Niall tonight. It was barely dusk and he already looked a little too buzzed to be leaning over the railing on the top deck. She craned her neck up to look at him, giggling to herself at the flush in his cheeks and the blonde mess on top of his head.

“Welcome abooaaard!” He waved far more aggressively than was necessary.

“Happy birthday, Niall!” Y/N yelled back at him, blocking the bright sun with one hand—a hand she discreetly wrestled out of Harry’s.

Harry, too, looked upward and was squinting into the sky. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, and soon the evening would be hanging behind the silvery moon. In the mean time, the sky was bright and painted with delicate strokes of soft pink and peachy orange.

While Harry waved back at his friend, Y/N took advantage of the distraction—and his exposed cheek.

Without warning, she hurled her hand up to his face and swiped at the pink mark as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Harry whipped his head back to her, mock hurt written all over his face.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky, victorious smile. “Got it!”

September in south Florida was as hot and humid as summer anywhere else. Even out at sea, with the cool ocean wind surging throughout the top deck of the yacht, it was plenty warm enough for the guests to enjoy the outdoors.

“H, can you hold my phone and keys in your pocket?”

Harry was standing awkwardly near the railing of the boat, fiddling absently with the plume of lace and chiffon on his black top. He still had a faint reddish mark on his cheek (she wasn’t sure if it was leftover lipstick or just irritated from her rubbing at it) that Y/N, despite the turmoil that had ensued over it, found very endearing. She always thought he was handsome. She had since the first day they met four months earlier. But tonight, he was positively glowing. He shined in the fabulous black number, his skin further brightened by the setting sun and the utter joy coursing through him (the entire flute of champagne he’d already downed certainly didn’t hurt, either).

He took the phone and keys from her while she admired him, happy to help her but not without a smart remark: “You should’ve worn the dress with the pockets, love,” he chastised her playfully, a smirk dressing his berry lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You said you liked the pink on me!”

Choosing her dress for the night had been an ordeal that rivaled even Harry’s complicated hair routine. She’d originally chosen a black long sleeved one with pockets that was comfortable and appropriate and matched Harry’s own all-black ensemble (which he’d had picked out for weeks). Her boyfriend rejected the black dress, pointing out that she’d be hot it in because “It’s practically summer in Miami, love.” Instead, he chose a silky pink number, midi-length and tight in all the right places with a tastefully low cowl neckline. She’d dressed it up with a few gold bracelets and a single pearl earring in her left ear that, to her satisfaction, matched Harry’s. And yeah—it didn’t have pockets, but Harry liked it and it made her feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.

Harry hummed with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah, you’re right,” His tone was innocent, almost regretful as he looked her up and down. The pink sunset behind her was highlighting her figure just right, wind rushing through her hair, exposed skin supple and tempting. Harry was mesmerized by her.

His hands moved on their own accord to gently hold her by the waist. “Your ass looks really cute in the silk…I reckon the color makes your skin glow a bit, too. And matches your makeup, and looks nice with my earring…” He continued spewing some breathy compliments at her, even after she sort of stopped listening when a waiter holding a tray of delectable looking hors d'oeuvres caught her attention.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, honey,” she replied (mostly) honestly. He was always a mushy little sap for her, but she truly did love the way he appreciated the little things she put effort into. “Thank you for noticing those little details.”

“You’re welcome. Know ya don’ just do it f’me though,” His ring clad fingers drummed against her waist, the metal cold through the thin silky material she wore. “Love that about you.”

Y/N cracked a smile in spite of the nervous shiver washing over her at his words. She couldn’t help but notice it was already the second time he’d said that word since they’d embarked. He was treading dangerously close to the vast, uncharted l-word territory. He’s a little buzzed, she reasoned with herself, despite also knowing it was silly because he’d only had a single champagne. But then again, he was a lightweight—and judging by the way he suddenly dropped her waist to chase down a passing waitress for two more glasses, he wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. If he told her while he was drunk, would it really count?

He returned to her side, keeping one flute for himself and presenting the other to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, grasping the stem of it (even though she still had a half full one resting precariously on the railing behind her). It was a fitting nickname for him, she thought. She hadn’t really meant for that to become her little pet name for him, but he loved it just as much as she did. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” her boyfriend hummed happily, “even when you’re checking out that waiter…”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“You kinda were,” He smiled cheekily at her.

“Was not.”

“’S alright, baby. He’s handsome. You’re allowed to have a little look.” But the way he held her protectively by the hip betrayed his words.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” If that wasn’t a hint, she didn’t know what was. “I’m just hungry. He was holding bacon wrapped shrimp, I think.”

“Mmm, me too,” Harry replied, the interaction already forgotten in favor of a savory snack. He tugged on her hand so they could follow that waiter, grumbling as they padded around the crowded deck. “Niall’s a fuckin ass for not serving dinner at an evening party.”

“Oh give him a break! It’s his birthday.” she let him pull her toward the middle where more people were gathered around the bar and admiring the decor—

“Is that an ice scultpure?”

Harry was right. It was a giant clear sculpture of a guitar made entirely out of ice. People were around it, admiring the intricacies and mingling and sipping on expensive looking drinks.

“How long you bet til it melts?”

“Not before Niall accidentally knocks it over,” Y/N laughed and gestured toward the man of the hour, who indeed was stumbling over his feet while trying to maintain a conversation with a group of several strikingly beautiful looking people—models? Probably.

It was obvious that Niall hadn’t planned this for himself. The whole thing was far too elegant and classy. His drunken ramblings were entertaining, sure, but he stood out amidst the black tie formals and live R&B music floating around the large deck of the luxurious vehicle.

Harry chased down the waiter and grabbed shrimp skewers for them both while Y/N continued quietly giggling at Niall’s antics.

Minutes drifted into hours as alcohol, shrimp skewers, and joyful conversation flowed liberally about the deck. Y/N had separated herself from Harry—much to his drunken dismay—to go and mingle with some of the “famous people.” She did it all on her own, confidently striding over and striking up a conversation with anyone worthy of her attention.

“Long time no see, mate.” Mitch’s voice interrupted Harry’s inner thoughts surrounding his girlfriend. He tore his eyes away from her and turned to face his friend, who was standing with his own girlfriend beside him.

“Been busy,” Harry replied.

Sarah’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across her cheeks. She glanced at Mitch, who wore a matching one.

“You both have been quite busy, yeah?” Sarah cocked her head toward where Y/N was, grin widening along with Harry’s eyes.

Harry hid his smile in his glass, taking a large gulp of the bubbly. “What d’ya mean?” He asked innocently.

“We saw you staring at her, buddy.”

Well, fuck. He can’t exactly deny that. He was indeed watching her as she mingled with a group of people—exceptionally beautiful people. She fit in perfectly with the models, her smile bright and dress shiny, hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat of the drums. She engaged effortlessly in what looked like an exciting conversation with A-listers and held their attention with sweeping hand gestures. Even from across the deck, he swore he could feel her joy. Light just radiated off of her and sent a gentle flutter through his belly and a heat wave through his heart.

Sarah studied him. The way his eyes twinkled and his cheeks flushed with happiness…it was obvious. “You love her.” She deadpanned.

Harry shrugged in response, a knowing smile on his face which he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“You do!” It was Mitch this time, who wrapped an arm around Sarah and looked at her with the same happy smile his friend wore.

“No comment.” A twinge of jealously bit his heart as he watched a handsome brunette lean down to whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. He frowned instinctively, picturing the man muttering flirtatious compliments or dirty suggestions to her like he should be doing right now.

Sarah continued to watch Harry watch Y/N, unsure if he was even listening anymore. “It’s alright to admit it. Love is a beautiful thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Mitch, “it’s a drug!”

“Hey look!” Harry shouted a distraction, pointing somewhere behind the two of them. He spotted two waiters bringing out an impressive tiered cake swirled with white frosting and topped with those sparkling candles. “It’s time to sing for the birthday boy!”

The boat erupted in a cacophonous rendition of the birthday song as the cake was placed on top of the bar. Night had fallen over the deck, making the sparkly decorations shine blindly bright against the moonlight. Meanwhile, Niall was dancing hysterically among the crowds, even singing along to his own birthday song in a drunken spree. At the final, …to you! he performed a dramatic bow and roared, “Thank you, beautiful people!”

Applause died slowly as Niall began grabbing peoples’ faces to kiss their cheeks in thanks. Y/N looked around for Harry, quite certain that her boyfriend would be perfectly willing to accept a kiss from the birthday boy, especially when he was inebriated. Sure enough, she caught sight of him wrapped up in an embrace with the blonde, a wide smile on his face as Mitch and Sarah laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Harry accepted the cheek kiss, just as his eyes met hers over Niall’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” He screeched and broke the embrace. He started running over to her in an uncoordinated stride, limbs flailing and most definitely spilling alcohol on other peoples’ expensive clothes.

“Y/N!” he slurred, finally reaching her side, “Gimme a kissy!”

She laughed. “You just got kissies from Niall, honey.” “But I want your lipstick on me. Yeh wiped it off.” He frowned deeply, no—melodramatically as his hand cupped his own cheeks where the pink lipstick mark once was.

She called him a little baby but obliged anyways, stamping a firm lip shaped mark on one of his flushed cheeks. He grinned wildly in response and looked at her with that look in his eyes that she absolutely adored. He was looking at her like she was royalty, like she hung the moon and commanded the sea and granted miracles upon mere mortals such as himself.

“Wish I could give you one too…” Harry trailed off, eyes wandering around the room. “Maybe then all those hot models and waiters would leave you alone.”

“Aw, you jealous baby?”

He nodded shamelessly and, with a pouty look, tucked her into his arms. He pressed a series of hard kisses on her cheeks and temples, squeezing the silky pink fabric at her waist. The feeling made her heart squeeze in the most delightful way—chest tight and warm with…with love.

“Wanna go check out the lower deck?”

And Y/N hadn’t known this man too long, but it was long enough to know that he had anything but innocent intentions with his sweet request. She was still only nursing her third glass of bubbly, but Harry’s suggestive stare and wandering hands seemed to ignite the slight heat flowing through her veins into an inferno.

It engulfed them both as Y/N’s back hit the inside of the door to the lower deck bathroom.

Harry’s lips were soft and playful and sexy all at once—just like him. He trailed hot kisses down her cheeks and jaw much like he had earlier, only now there was no audience. No need to hold back. Only hot, sweet skin swathed in pink silk and black chiffon.

“You marked me already, ’s my turn.”

Just when she was feeling a little too sober, Harry’s words drenched her in the heat of desire. This was definitely a bad idea, but it didn’t sound like one when he put it like that.

His fingers slipped from her jaw and followed his lips down to her throat, enticing her with a gentle squeeze—a warning? Or a promise for later? Either way, this bathroom escapade was fucking sliced bread and she was putty in his hands.

He sucked harshly on the supple skin of her neck without warning. A gasp slips out of Y/N’s mouth and Harry’s ringed thumb pressed deeply into the center of her throat in reprimanding. His other fingers gripped the crook of her neck, just enough to make her head spin and keep her body pliant.

Meanwhile, his other hand slithered down the smooth silk to her waist, his hold on her heavy and warm. Harry’s swollen lips retracted from her bruised neck, not before pressing a few gentle pecks to the hickeys to soothe the pain.

Y/N felt dizzy with pleasure and enveloped in love. She couldn’t help but chase his lips for a few more desperate kisses as he pulled away from her neck. She suddenly wished she could admire the marks he’d left, but the glazed, hungry look in his eyes would definitely suffice. The little bathroom felt ten degrees warmer—leaving Harry looking hot and flushed and absolutely irresistible.

“You okay, baby?” Harry whispered in the tiny space between them, words slightly slurred and dipped in bliss.

Y/N nodded aggressively, letting her hands wrap around the back of his neck where his skin was hot and hair curled adorably. “Please kiss me again.”

He did as he was told, of course. His lips moved tenderly with hers and his hands trailed lower, gently caressing her waist and hips. His fingers started a course back up to her ass, this time taking the fabric of her dress with them.

Y/N’s head felt light as a feather, no thoughts besides Harry…Harry’s hands…Harry’s lips…Harry…

She curled her thighs around his hips and he responded effortlessly, hoisting her up by the backs of her thighs and pressing taut between the cold bathroom wall and his own hot chest. The temperature in the room seemed to rise impossibly then, the sounds of breathy moans and gentle sucking kisses seamlessly diffusing into the heat and surrounding them in a delightful symphony.

Y/N was thrilled by the way Harry’s tongue tasted like champagne—as sweet and plushy as always. She decided then that she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on hers, of the dizzying joyful feeling his lips gave her every single time.

“Harry…honey…”

“What ’s it pretty girl?”

The pet name in his raspy accent went straight to her core. She let out another shameless whine, squeezing his waist tighter with her legs.

“I need you, Harry…”

“Hm? Need what?”

She groaned—now he wanted to be a tease. After he’d gotten to give her the hickeys like he wanted.

“Harry, please.”

“‘M just messing, pretty girl. I know what you ne—“

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out in the little cabin. Y/N let out a screech and sprang away from Harry, landing awkwardly on her stiletto heels. Wide eyed, she and Harry both looked up toward the source of the sound. Muffled shouts followed, in the midst of a horrible shattering sound, like broken glass, or hail or—

“The ice sculpture!”

They were both wide eyed and panting and a little sweaty, hair tousled and lips swollen red.

“Oh shit,” There were more muffled shouts and some shuffling of feet above them. Even through the ornate ceiling of the bathroom, it was clear there was an ordeal going on up there.

Breathy pants lingered between them, and the room suddenly felt even smaller, even more swelteringly hot and stuffy. Of all things to ruin the heat of the moment…a fucking ice sculpture.

They looked at each other blankly, as if to say what the hell do we do now?

“Let’s head back up while everyone’s distracted.” It was Harry’s alcohol-induced idea, cooked up in his foggy brain.

“There’s no way we can go back to the party like this.” Y/N gestured between them—the sweaty foreheads, messy hair, skin dotted with hickeys, and most prominently, her boyfriend’s obvious arousal.

Harry sighed, glancing down at himself. “Let’s leave then.”

“What, you wanna swim home?”

Harry frowned, “Huh?”

“We’re on a fucking boat, dumbass.”

Harry looked away from her with wide eyes and burning cheeks. Right…Absently, he thought it was funny how she could go from making out with him against the wall of the bathroom, practically begging for more, to mercilessly making fun of him, all within seconds. His thoughts bled into his expression, a happy smile tugging on his lips as he thought about her and her unparalleled sex appeal and her cute laugh and her mock insults and her more and more.

And just like that, he was laughing. His wild laughter seemed to echo in the small bathroom. Despite their hot rendezvous being rudely interrupted, Y/N swore she could smell the happiness in the room—almost as poignant as the champagne on his breath.

Seconds later, she couldn’t help but join him in happy laughter.

Turns out, the fallen ice sculpture was even more of a hazard than they’d initially realized—so much so that the captain of the yacht demanded an early return to shore and a continuation of the party on land. Many patrons were disappointed by the early end to the yacht cruise, not including the birthday boy himself, who Y/N would be surprised if was still walking at this point.

As they sailed back toward the shore, Harry was nursing yet another flute of champagne while Y/N clung to him in the boat’s interior—half because she wanted to cover his erection from any passerbys, and half because she just really wanted to hold him. He’d also managed to produce a slice of cake on a porcelain plate, which he’d presumably snagged when he left her on the couch to find more alcohol.

“You look cute,” she mused at him while he chewed the forkful of cake she’d just slid into his mouth. She was sideways in his lap, bare feet rested on the arm of an expensive looking couch. She vaguely realized that this area of the boat was probably off limits for guests, but fuck it, she thought, no harm no foul.

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘you look cute.’” Y/N repeated. He really did look cute like that, with his face flushed and hair messy and a tinge of lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled with frosting still between his teeth, “I heard you the first time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back!”

She gathered another forkful of cake and brought it up to his lips, “I just did.”

“Fine then,” He said, “I’ll just toss you overboard. Out of sight, out of mind.”

At that, Y/N gasped. She quickly turned her hand away and brought the cake into her own mouth, licking her lips for extra impact.

“Noooo!” He held her by the hip and dragged her even closer to him, as if she were about to get up and actually go overboard and take the cake with her. “I’m sorry baby, you’re cute, too. So cute. Like, so cute that I can’t believe you like me.”

Like? I think I more than like you.

“I can’t believe it, either.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, dancing around in the tiny space between their lips like electricity. Harry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip as if trying to pull them out of her.

Yet again, they were interrupted. This time by a loud horn blare and the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Land, ho!”

“Finally.” Harry sighed in relief, already trying to stand up from the couch, “Can you take me home now, please.”

“We can’t just leave when the party’s still going! What about Niall?” Y/N pressed her hands against his chest to slow him down.

“Niall won’t remember a damn thing.”

She considered his words. He wasn’t wrong; Niall had already knocked over the ice sculpture, after all.

“Take a left here,”

“Here?”

“Ye—wait, no.” Harry slurred, shaking his head from the passenger seat.

But his girlfriend had already turned the wheel to the left, inevitably sending the car in the wrong direction, again.

“Shit, M’ sorry baby.” he said with a drunken giggle.

“Good lord Harry…”

She threw the car into a random driveway, grumbling as she executed a clumsy K-turn.

She could hear the cranky frown in Harry’s voice as he groaned, “You’re a shit driver.”

“Well you’re a shit navigator!” Y/N looked over and gave him a pointed look. But the look only fell on his droopy, half-open eyes. “Where the fuck do I go?”

A beat of silence passed as Harry’s head lolled around. He hummed a bit, imitating the low rumble of the car’s engine. Finally, he murmured, “Keep goin’ straight.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn’t reply, just turned to look at her with that mischievous drunken smile.

“Aw fuck, no. We passed it up.”

“Harry!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her annoyance, his antics were amusing. “Are you sure you actually know where you live?”

“Of course I know where I live!”

Y/N sped into another middle-of-the-road U-turn, and Harry dramatically fell into her lap with a low yell.

“Slow down, you minx! Gonna get us killed!”

“You’re so dramatic, Harry. If you’d just tell me where the fuck you live!”

“Can’t remember.”

She craned her head up to ceiling, letting her own eyes fall shut as she inhaled her frustration.

“Okay, fine. It’s that blue one over there.” He gestured vaguely to the right, but it was too dark to see the colors of the houses anyways.

Y/N let out her deep breath, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

His growing smirk gave him away. After only a few seconds, his foggy brain would not allow him to contain his giggles.

“Harry!” she whined. He was always kind of silly and clingy, but the excessive alcohol made him an actual baby. He was still laying in her lap over the center console.

“Why are you like this?”

He pouted, feigning hurt. “Maybe I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s fingers loosed on the wheel. She slowed the car to a stop against on of the curbs in the quiet neighborhood, poised under the soft light of a street lamp. Her annoyed expression softened and the familiar urge washed over her—the urge to kiss his cheeks and tell him she loved him and squeeze him tight and never let him go. How could one person be so annoying yet so fucking adorable?

She pushed his hair back (not without thinking about how he would’ve scolded her for messing it up at the beginning of the night when he had been sober, but now he was far too drunk to care) and wrapped an arm around his neck. It was definitely an awkward position and Harry couldn’t have been comfortable like that, but he didn’t seem to mind. He held her arm in both hands and snuggled into her lap as she cooed at him. “Aw, baby. You could’ve just told me.”

“But we’ve only been together for a little bit…and I don’t want ya to get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you, honey. Not even if I wanted to,” she said earnestly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his curls.

“Really?”

Now if that wasn’t a hint…this man was even stupider than she thought. In spite of his endearing idiocy, Y/N still could not resist the urge to just love him.

The idea that he could possibly love her back crossed her mind several times, especially in the past few weeks.

But they’d only been officially for a month and a half…was it too soon? Would she scare him off? Was there some unwritten rule of love to wait until they’d at least seen each others’ homes? Although, if she did tell him now, Harry was so drunk he may not even remember. If it went horrifically wrong, maybe she could forget it happened. (No, she definitely would not ever be able to forget if that happened, but the lie comforted her a little nonetheless). But if it went well, she’d be more confident telling him again when he was sober tomorrow. And at last, she didn’t even think she could hold the words in for another second while he was cuddling into her and kissing her arms like a baby kitten.

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?!”

Suddenly, he seemed alarmingly sober.

“Ugh, yes. How could I not?”

He looked appalled, really. As if the idea of her loving him was absolutely insane. “Well, I annoy you, I kiss you in public, I drink too much, I spend way too much time on my hair, I’m not as handsome as that waiter…”

“And you’re pretty stupid.” Y/N interrupted with her own addition to the growing list.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am pretty dumb…But,” he paused, flipping over in her lap to look her in the eyes, “I did get one thing right.”

“What’s that?” She asked, fondly stroking his gelled hair with trembling hands.

“Falling in love with you.”

And loving him was that easy, as easy as sipping champagne and eating cake and falling overboard. She loved his flamboyance, his confidence, his kindness. She loved his silly tattoos and his bunny teeth and the little scar under his chin and the faint lipstick stain on his cheek. She loved the way they teased each other like children. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers. She loved the way he adored her. And so, she couldn’t help but smile wide.

“Alright, let’s add you’re super cheesy to that list, too…”

thanks for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed <3

feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and highly appreciated!

[eerythingisshaka]

Going Up?

[Trevante Rhodes x Black!PlusSize Reader]

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings:  Smut of some kind

A/N:  I FINALLY have a bday fic present for @nickidub718!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 Happy Birthday to you, I hope you had a good one and see a many more!  You’ve been a great internet fam member to me, supportive, engaging and I couldn’t rest until this fic was finished (sis, this was a challenge lol I ain’t written smut in so long).  This is my first Trevante fic, so hopefully it suffices!

The elevator dings after what felt like an eternity of waiting after you pressed the call button.  You stand by the gold gilded doors, patiently standing by until finally opened.  You do an internal fist pump at the sight of an empty car, strolling in quickly and punching your floor number and the close door button to make a clean getaway.

“Wait, hold up!”  A deep voice calls.  A hand comes between the closing doors, followed by a strong arm pushing them back forcefully.  You jump at the action breaking your peace, watching as a man exhales in relief, walking on to the elevator with a smile that would make a turkey on Thanksgiving feel at ease about their life.  

“Hey, sorry about that.  I’d hate to wait for a new one.”  The man stands across the way from you as you look ahead, giving a tight smile.  As much as you were looking forward to a ride up alone, you see out of your peripheral his wide shoulders under his dark colored jacket, beautiful dark skin tone, 6 ft at least with a voice that can make a maniac sane.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you live here?”  He asks bluntly.  You look at him in confusion.

“Um...yeah, it’s a hotel.”  You say.

He scratches the back of his head.  “Yeah I know, I just wondered were you visiting or staying.”

You watch the numbers light up as the elevator travels.

“What’s your name?”  He asks.

You scoff.  “ I honestly think you're doing a lot right now asking all these questions.”

He shakes his head.  “No...no I’m not.  It’s just….a beautiful woman like you, going home alone….must have a name.”

His smile does you in this time, making you smile back but you look away.  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t if it weren’t for me getting stood up.  I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but work comes first….it always does.”

He clicks his thick tongue at you.  “That ain’t right.  If you were mine, I would leave work early just to see you.”  His voice drags the sentence out deep and slow.

“Yeah?”

He makes a face of disbelief.  “Hell yeah!  Dinner ready, table set, bath ran, the works!”

You shuffle anxiously, feeling yourself get warm from all of this complimentary conversation from a stranger.  “Well,  I appreciate that.  I’m sure a guy like you has his pick of the litter when it comes to women.”

He cocks his head to the side, closing the space between you ever so carefully.  “I don’t pick them, they pick me.  And I’m hoping you do tonight.”

You look up at him, studying his eyes as he becomes just inches away from your face, his soft cucumber scented cologne wafting.  You can tell in his face he was a cutie as a kid and for some reason that makes you feel safe next to him.  You can tell he is a problem, but in this moment, you really don’t care.  As long as he wasn't starting an issue with you, why not walk on the wild side for once.

“What’s your name?  You ask.

“I asked first.”  He retorts.  You give your name, and he gives his: Trevante.

“What floor are you on?” You ask.

He shrugs, eyes beginning to wander your body.  “Whatever floor you’re on.”

You decided in that moment to take a chance on him.  Your night was not going to be ruined by some asshole who wanted to neglect you on your night of much needed romance.  If another man as fine as this one comes along to volunteer to give you what you needed, who were you to look a gift horse in the dick.  

The elevator finally makes it to your floor and you both step off to walk down the hall.  Your room isn’t far as you take your keycard out to open the door.  It appears your man had intentions on making an effort, but abandoned it halfway through.  The plush carpet now has the pattern of scattered rose petals leading to the comforter of your bed.  You stare in awe of the candles on you bedside dresser and table waiting to be lit, 90s R&B playlist musing your soul as you clutch your pearls.

Trevante looks around making a low whistle with his lips.  “You really know how to wine and dine a nigga.”

You scoff at him.  “This isn’t me, this is FOR me.”  A card rests on a pillow with your name on it, handwritten by someone else obviously because your man had no good writing capabilities.  

“Read it out loud for me.”  Tre asks, coming up behind you.

You roll your eyes,, tearing open the envelope to read the note.

“‘In this place you’ll find great jewels, but these rubies were once a fools.’  Oh my God, this dude was sending me on a scavenger hunt.

Trevante looks at the note front and back.  “Huh.  Seems kinda lame but it might be fun.”   He hops on the bed, causing the rose petals to jump, stretching out like an alley cat.  “Let’s see what he got for you.”

You roll your eyes, kicking off your heels and taking off your jacket.  “Fine!  It better get tougher because this one is real elementary.”  You say as you walk over to your beveled glass jewelry box, lifting the handle to find a box of large, juicy strawberries from the farmer’s market.

“Oooh, these look delicious!  Mm, can’t wait to wrap my mouth around these…”  You moan in delight as you pick one up to enjoy.

“Aye!  Let’s make a bet?”  Trevante says as he flicks a lighter on, kneeling on the bed as he works on the bedside candles.  “Find these clues he giving you before I finish lighting these candles, and you can set the rhythm for what we do tonight.  But if I win, I do.”

You look back at Trevante, who has taken off his jacket and shoes, getting real comfortable, but agree because what else was there to do?  You pick the strawberries out the box to find a familiar looking card along the bottom of the box.  Opening it up, you read the next riddle.

“‘The city lights look so bright, good enough for an evening delight’....Ok, question.”

“Answer.”  Trevante retorts, lighting the last candle on the table and walking over to the ones on your dresser.

“You think all the riddles related to things in this room?  Cuz I’m not trying to look like a fool looking for shit on the street.”

Trevante guffaws, throwing his head back as he sets a candle down gracefully.  “It wouldn’t make sense to set all this shit up here and make you leave.  Use your head, you on the clock.”

You nod, looking at the note again.  “Ok, then I’ll check this window and see…”  Your windows were closed with heavy bamboo blinds, rolling one up you find a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream.

Picking them up, you turn to him, making a confused face but laughing all the same.  “I hope you not lactose, because I will definitely make a split outta you in a minute.”

Trevante had two candles left on the dresser.  “You soundin a little nervous over there, tryna tell jokes and shit.  You got one more clue before I win my night with you.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you tauntingly.  

You roll your eyes, peeling a card off the back of the syrup bottle.  “It’s fine, I’m not a sore loser.”

“Yeah, you bout to be though.”  He mutters.

“‘Treats aren’t sweet until they are in the right wrapper.  Open this door to find yours.’  Ok, I don’t think they’re making this big of a deal for a condom, so let’s see...Should I go ahead and check my closet?”

Trevante is holding the last candle in his hand, unlit and tossing it up in the air like a softball repeatedly.  “Couldn’t hurt to check.”

You put the cream and syrup down, making a beeline for your closet, pulling back the doors to find a black box with a red ribbon wrapped around it.  Your mouth fell open as your fingers traced the embedded Savage x Fenty label on the top.  

“You got two minutes to put that on before I order you forfeit.”  Trevante’s voice carries across the room as a warning.

“This isn’t a very fair game, I gotta say.”  You whine, picking up the box to head to the bathroom.

“Where you goin?”  Trevante questions your path with a quickness.

You freeze in place.  “I’m goin to change…”

Trevante shakes his head slow.  “Uh uh, I want you to change out here.  Make sure things are fitting right.”  He sits on the edge of the bed, wide legged to study your every move.

You balk at him.  “I don’t know you and you’re just being really extra right now, but I fucks with it so lemme shut up.”

You see Trevante’s white teeth like the Cheshire cat in the shadows as you untie the knot and open the box.  You’ve been eyeing some new shit from Rihanna’s line for a minute but didn’t have the courage to bite the bullet for fear of disappointing quality or sizing problems.  Past the wrapping paper, you find a royal purple bra and panty matching set.  Both have a satin applique embroidery across the material that made the sexy set so cute.

“Aww, look!  This is one of the ones I wanted to try!”  You exclaim, tossing the items on the bed to proceed to snatch your shirt and skirt off without shame.

You hear the flick of his lighter as he ignites the last candle.  “Yeah, you got good taste.  That color gonna look bomb on you too.”

You turn away from him as you take off your tired bra to replace it with the new Fenty certified one.  You felt your girls lift with pride as you clasp the hooks behind you and adjust the straps.  A little recalibrating of your titties and BAM!  You were ready to work work work!  Next you drop your draws kick them off to the side and pull up the matching new pair.  These also have an adorable peekaboo lace up right above your booty that you quickly admire as you run to the mirror to turn and look at.  

The panties have little charms on either side, no bigger than your pinky nail:  a dice block, heart, x and o’s, and a cherry.  You couldn’t help drinking in your reflection in the mirror, sliding your hands across the material holding up your breasts, running your fingers down your cleavage over your belly to the top of your waistband.  The material leaves little to the imagination due to it being sheer as well as tightly fitted around your waist and thighs.

You barely notice Trevante walking up behind you in the reflection, feeling yourself get shy again as he breaks your trance in your own world.

“How you like em?”  He asks, licking his lips as he stands just inches behind you, lightly twirling a charm between his fingers against your hip.

You nod biting your lips.  “It’s perfect, so damn sexy and cute, just my speed.”

Trevante breathes in deeply as he wraps his arms around you, putting a steady squeeze on your frame as he chin rests against your shoulder.  “I don’t think we hit your speed yet.”

“No?”  You ask quietly, resting your hands on top of his.

He shakes his head, spreading his hands wide across your stomach, appreciating the softness of your lingerie and body under his grasp, squeezing your hips roughly, you feel his presence against you even more.

“I like this on you, for sure.  But I think you could use a few extra...toppings to set you off.”  He looks at you in the reflection mischievously.

Your eyes squint as the gears start to turn in your head.  “And that means…”

Trevante pecks your cheek lightly as he points to the table with your scavenger items lined up:  whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate syrup.

You laugh out loud, bumping your butt against him to push him off you.  “I’m not trying to be a sundae for you,  I just wanna fuck.”

Trevante’s mouth hangs open in a wide as he struts slowly across the floor to pick up the items.  “You see the room right?  Lit up, aromatic, turned down just so that we can turn up, yeah?”

You nod in agreeance.

“But, the bet at the beginning was that if I beat you at putting on the final touches, i.e. the candle lighting, then I get to use this on you as I so choose.  You remember that?”

His tone is cocky, conniving, yet so charismatic as he convinces you of the deal you agreed to.

You cross your arms defensively.  “I ain’t into food fights man, this just seems extra complicated and boring to me.”

Trevante shakes his head, smiling all the same.  “You don’t know me well enough.  I’ll make it interesting, I promise.  Just sit back on the bed there.”

You scoff at him walking in the direction hesitantly.  “If you get one drop of that chocolate on these good sheets, I swear.”

“You better be glad you look good walking away, or I wouldn’t make this as fun for you no more.”  Trevante says,  putting the goods on his side of the bed, untucking his shirt, opening each button one by one.

“I don’t want fun, I want the business.”  You mutter, laying back with a plop on the pillows.

Trevante shrugs his shoulders as he reaches to untie his tie.  “Put your hands up.”

You look at the tie in his hands and back at his face, shaking your head.  Trevante tuts at you, gripping your forearms firmly as he swings his leg over you to straddle.  He brings lowers himself over you, eyes moving slowly over your face, studying you.  

“You said you wouldn’t be a sore loser.  Now you know I won’t hurt you, so quit acting silly and relax for once.”

You mull over his words.  “You know you haven’t kissed me since I got here.”

Tre’s lips curl back at your words before landing softly on top of yours.  This is just enough to get you started as you parted your lips quickly to let your tongue loose across his lips.  You wanted him badly in between you but his straddling you made that impossible.  You allowed him to move your arms back as your tongues teased one another, he moans into your mouth while sucking down hard on your bottom lip, intoxicating your senses before you realized his hands worked the scarf around your wrists and the headboard.  

His hands run down the soft parts of your arm, reaching just above your armpit you begin to squirm.

“Tre!  Stop!  You not supposed to be tickling me, DAMN!”  You giggle between protests.  

Trevante laughs triumphantly as he reaches for the hem of his tank top to stretch it over his body, tossing it across the room safely away from the flames.  Your breath catches in your chest as you view his body.  He was not playing fair keeping you strapped down from feeling his beady curls decorating his proud chest, and not allowing your palms to caress the defined mountains and canyons that made up his abdominals.  If chocolate cake turned into a man with the snap of your fingers, Trevante would appear.  He looked just as succulent, rich, and left you licking your fingers wanting more.

“Ok, what now?”  You ask breathlessly.  Trevante gets up to walk casually to the end of the bed, grabbing the whipped cream.

“Open your them legs for me.”  He commands you, shaking the can as he growth in his pants.  You do so eagerly, feeling slight relief in letting your pussy breathe from the building pressure on her.  He walks on his knees toward you, laying prone between your thighs, aiming the can at your inner right thigh.  The air pressure sound of the can makes you jump a little as the white cream fluffs across the darker skin if your inner thigh, contrasting well for Trevante’s view.

He sets the can down, unfurling his wide tongue, spreading it across you skin to lap up the sweet indulgence between your legs.  Your leg jumps at the sensation making your core throb as you bite your lip at the sight, you laugh nervously.

“Do it taste good to you?”  You ask meekly.

Trevante nods.  “Of course you sweet to me.  You wanna try it?”  

You nod, opening your mouth as he grabs the can.  He tips the can to his mouth, filling it with cream before meandering his way up your body.  You try to hold back your laughter as you toys with your mouth, nudging it with his nose and lips to feed you the cream.  

“You are ridiculous!”  You exclaim but eventually opening your to his, he uses his tongue to give you a taste, letting you suck the sweetness from his mouth.  The action becomes more natural as his hips instinctually rock against your heat, stiffening against you.  You get excited from his quiet ‘shit’ you hear him say as he breaks away from your mouth.

He shakes his head to clear his mind, blinking a few times as he straightens up to grab the syrup.  “Ok, punishment almost done.”

You stick your bottom lip out.  “Darn!”

His muscles flex as he breaks the seal of the bottle, popping the top.  “Where should I put this?”

“Do I get a say in that?”  You ask.

He smirks shaking his head.  “It was rhetorical.”  His wide hand lays flat against your throat, not applying pressure but caressing the sensitivity of your windpipe and what could be.  His chest rises and falls while his eyelids grow heavy.  His hand travels down your neck to massage your titty, thumbing across the peak of one of your nipples, your back caves toward him begging for his touch to deepen.  

He tips the bottle bottle over your midsection, making a circle around your belly button.  He bends down to bring his tongue across you, enjoying dessert on your belly.  His tongue linger over one area of your stomach.

“I like this scar here.”  He says softly, tracing the bolt of stretch marks across your belly like a treasure map.  

You grow anxious from this intimacy.  Noticing details about your body, worshiping the ‘imperfections’ made you feel more beautiful than he could ever understand.  

“I earned them.  This thickness doesn’t come cheap.”  You quip.

Trevante looks up at you with a look of desire you barely had time to decipher.  

“I’m glad you’re giving me a chance to enjoy it.  It’s so damn sexy.”  His tone drops an octave causing you to writhe under him.

“How sexy am I to you?”

His eyes lock on your as his fingers reach the tops of your cups, to free your breasts from their binds.  He brings them together gently, kissing around your areola slowly.  Each audible peck, seeing the softness of this hard boy over you made your senses go into overdrive, threatening your shoulder sockets as you begin to buck your ties when his mouth locks onto your nipples.  

You gasp, melting yourself into his mouth as much as possible as you encourage him through gritted teeth.  Your legs rub along his sides, hooking him closer to your core as you hope for more of him to come soon.  

Trevante pulls himself from your chest to crawl downward, firmly but carefully pulling down your charmed underwear.

“Tre, wait!”  

Trevante wasn’t looking for that reaction as he peered at you in confusion.

“I mean, just untie me.  I can’t take anymore of this without some control of my body, and I know that mouth will make me dislocate my arms.”

Trevante shakes his head as he crawls over you to turn you loose.  “Aight, but don’t be wildin on me.”

Soon as you felt the loosening of your wrists, you tore yourself away pushing Tre on his back.

“Whoa, the fuck?  I thought I -”

“That’s not what I wanna hear.  Get to work!”  You adjust yourself across his face, splaying your pussy above his mouth.  “You wanna eat so damn bad, eat something good for you.”

You pat his head between your legs as he looks up at you playfully while you unhook your bra to free your titties completely.  His hands wrap around your thighs before dipping into your treasure, spreading your lips with his tongue, painting his name inside of you.  

Your jaw drops at first lick, contracting your stomach as he teases your clit with a smart occasion flick that makes you putty in his hands.  Your dare to sit yourself down further on his face, which Tre moans gleefully over.  The sucking, tasting sounds of his mouth against you make you shiver as you connect it to your orgasm building.  

“Stay right there, that’s….the rhythm I….OH!”  You grip his skull like a bowling ball as you become unhinged.  Tre smacks your ass, shaking it to and fro while you ride your orgasm out arching backward on a high.  You work your hips into his mouth while reaching backward. Finding the top of his trousers.  

Expertly, you undo his top button, sliding his fly down carefully as his erection threatens the room left in his pants.  You look over your shoulder seeing his dick resting against his stomach, thick and heavy, and jerking every so often.  Taking the tip in your hands, you massage his already moistened head, stretching the wetness along his shaft.

Tre smacks your ass again.  “You gonna kill me with this pussy of yours.” He says with a southern drawl.

You laugh breathlessly as you feel him grow under your grip.  “And imma bring that ass back to life just so I can ride this dick again.”

You smile to yourself proudly jacking him off while he eats you out, a happy prequel to your love making.  

But Tre isn't one to keep you comfortable in one spot too long.  Before you knew, his grip on your backside grows stronger.  You feel his thighs tightening and soon you're up in the air.  Tre went from completely flat to lifting you in the air with nothing to hold onto but his head.  Your hands and thighs grip around him with a death grip.

“Tre! Don't you EVER do that without telling me first!”  you scold him, thank God and cursing him.

Trevante’s hands find the center of your back and leans forward.  Your thigh grip lessens but you keep a firm grip on his head as your legs roll down his shoulders.

You look up at him petrified in this circus act while he just grins at you all goofy.  “If I told you, you wouldn't wanna do it.”

Your heart rate begins to calm down some.  “Yeah you right!”

Tre shrugs.  “I can't help but want my baby sitting high on her throne.  That pussy motivates me to do some crazy shit, and that look on your face was worth it.”

“That so? Or you just tryna make sure you don’t cum too fast on me?” You rebuttal.

He looks up a moment in thought.  “nah, i don't think that's ever happened.  That was a cute trick though.”

“You're not the only one with em.”  You say, stroking his beard shining with your juices embedded in his curls.  You couldn't help but want a taste as you kissed him, hungrier than before with the whipped cream.  You couldn't take much more foreplay and Tre read that too as you feel one hand playing with his dick between you, slapping it across your pussy lips.  He exhaled sharply through his teeth as you massage his scalp, scooting to line yourself up with his dick more; a feat more difficult given your legs on his shoulders.  But once he found his way inside, your extremities unanimously degraded under his girth.  Your back bent outta shape as your neck gave way to moan.  He hadn't even made his way completely inside and you were already a mess.

“Shhh, don't start acting up.  I ain't even started with you yet.”  Tre says, kissing your chin softly.

“Just go slow, gatdamn.”  You wince.

“Don't worry, I plan to savor every surface of these walls.” He groans as you feel him stretch you out more and more.  The first stroke took forever to complete before he was deep inside you, your muscles contracting around his dick without control to become used to him, now you needed him to move.  Knees in your chest, dick in your gut, you could barely breathe.

“You want me to hit that pussy fast or slow?”  He asks, gripping your hips to move you on him slowly.

You feel flush and anxious.  “Just hit it daddy, please.  I need it.”

He nods laying his forehead against yours.  “Whatever you want.”  Sounded more like a warning as he splayed your legs wider to wrap around his body.  You rub his neck gingerly as he pulled in and out of you slow at first, your pussy makes soft, wet noises, pleasantly accepting his dick within you.  

Soon his pace begins to quicken, spreading his lap under you for stability as his hips rise against you.  His strokes create a recoil in your body, bouncing against him erratically.  You hold tight to his shoulders for dear life feeling yourself on the edge.

Trevante’s face fights for a stoic appearance but you make it hard for him.  “Who you been hiding this pussy from?”

You run your hands along his chest; soft skin over a hardened interior, your own personal human stress ball to squeeze.  

“I haven’t...hid from nobody…”  You say broken up by your passions.  

Trevante’s  pulls you into him, holding you tightly as he suckles on your neck and chest, using his full arm strength to bounce you on top of him vigorously.  The sudden change in position shocked the hell out of your clit, now getting direct stimulation with his rhythm.  

“Mm, that ass sounds nice bouncing on me.  Make it sing baby.”  Tre encourages you as you attempt to keep up before your climax makes you almost tap out.  But Tre wasn’t a quitter, making sure you whimpered his name like it was your final wish.

Tre groans loudly, taking your hair in his hands to pull your mouth on his once more, his tongue dances inside your mouth so strong you knew it wasn’t over yet.

A smack on your left booty cheek brings you back down to earth again.  “Get on your hands and knees, I wanna see that ass bounce on me in real time.”

Before your could protest for a break, he picks you up with one arm wrapped around your waist before turning and tossing you on the bed.  

“Oh shit!  Damn you too strong!  You hulking out on me when I’m vulnerable.”  You whine as he twists your leg to turn you over.

“There you go talking again.  The game is over, and I ain’t come here to play with you.”  He lays on top of you starting at the nape of your neck, sliding kisses down your back.  Your muscles twitch with each massage of his mouth over your back, not missing a nook or cranny around before reaching your backside.  Tre creates an arch in your back, pulling your hips back and knees forward for the perfect position.

Tre chuckles as he rubs on your cheeks.  “I think we got this pussy going rabid now.”

“The fuck does that mean?”  You ask, face down in your comforter.

“Pussy lookin like it’s foaming at the mouth, it’s so creamed up.  Ain’t no dick like new dick for you, huh?”  Tre emphasizes his point with a simple stroke of his tip against your pussy lips

You nod, looking back at him sheepishly.  “Mhm, it’s my favorite.  You’ve been a big surprise.”

“We gotta make this happen more often…”  Tre pushes himself inside you again, renewing your arousal.  Gripping the sheets you steady yourself for him to pound away, but instead are met with a slow, almost lazy stroke.  

You whine.  “What’re you doing, give me something.”

Tre  just stands behind you rubbing your back.  “I said I wanna see that ass dance, make it dance.”  

You smirk as you catch his drift, pushing back into him until you feel your limit being reached, sliding down his shaft again.  You make a slight wind of your hips as you maintain a rhythm, bumping your cheeks against this pelvis.

“God, you feel so good.”  You moan as your head drops.

“Uh uh, come on, that shit looks too good, pick your head up and throw it back.”  Tre demands, sliding his hand up your back to pull your head back.  You seethe from the new pressure but fall in line with his encouragement.  Retaining your posture you bounce against him thoughtfully, squeezing around him periodically for good measure.  Tre leans over you keeping ahold of your hair as the applause of your bodies in motion raises in volume.

“That’s it, put all that shit on me.”  Tre  says, biting down as your pussy yanks his dick over and over again.

“Yes, daddy, mm hurt me please.”

“You say hurt you?”

You nod, grabbing your breasts to stabilize their bounce as he pounds against your ass, slapping you over and over.  You knees begin to give out, falling down on the bed as Tre follows behind you.

“I don’t know what you running from.  You want this ass whipped, Imma give you that.”  He says, throttling your pussy as you lay on your stomach, fingers clawing into your linens, toes gnarled in arousal as you scream into the mattress.

“What was that?”  Tre asks, pausing his assault as he lifts on leg to twist you around on your back while still inside you.  Putting one leg on your shoulder.  He leans over you with hands on either side of your body thrusting harder within you.  Your hand presses against his stomach,trying your best to remain in control.

“What were you saying when I had that ass in the air?”  Tre asks.

You stifle your moans, gritting your teeth.  “It.. wasn’t...nothing…”

“You look like you got a lot to say, so say it.”  Tre breathes hard over you, grabbing your titties as his strokes doesn’t relent.

“It’s...too….good…”  You squeak.

“What is?”  His hands find your throat.

“That...dick...ohhhh, it’s too good!”

“You ain’t telling me shit I don’t know.  This pussy takin it well.”  He squeezes his hands around you.

You sigh loudly feeling your arousal climb as your breathing shallows.  “You make it feel good daddy!”

“You gonna save this pussy for me later?”  Tre asks.

“I’ll save it for you again and again and-AH!”  You smack his chest in frustrated bliss as he makes you cum hard, strangling his shaft between you, your leg threatens to cramp up as he bears down on you, keeping you hollering at the top of your lungs as your hands fall, surrendering to his body.  

“I want stay in this.” Tre groans.

“Cum in me baby, please cum.”  You beg, holding his face carefully,  He turns his head to kiss your palm, digging you out dramatically as his pressure climbs.  Soon his body falls on top of you, filling you up.

“Ah, fuck. Oh shit, girl.  Damn….”  You both remain still a minute, heartbeat to heartbeat still excitedly beat as your bodies catch up to the current intermission.  

Tre rolls off of you and on his back, watching the ceiling.  You carefully roll over in his area, kissing his chest, twirling and rubbing the hairy, soft, firmness that is his magnificent body; feeling the rise and fall of his tightening stomach.  

“How long you want me around for?”  Trevante asks, running his fingers along your face.

You rest your chin on his chest, thinking.  “I would feel bad if I didn’t get you some room service by the time morning comes.”

“What about ole dude?  He not coming back tonight?”

“Honey, he’s not coming nowhere near me after this.  My pussy got a whole new muscle memory that he is no longer eligible for.”

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