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oklcmc · 3 years ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،̲،̲⠀⠀⠀𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 [𝟏𝟖+]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀You was livin’ off of Dru Hill wasn’t Ready for the World，but baby，who is？ Know you prettier than all the El⠀⠀⠀DeBarges never worry ‘bout the Total of the charges ❪I got this❫.⠀〟

word count：8，602

pairing：demetrius edward ゛⠀big meech⠀〟flenory，sr. ❪demetrius edward ゛⠀lil meech⠀〟flenory，jr.❫ ✕ black!female oc ❪cheryl renee ゛⠀salt⠀〟james，circa 1988❫

forewarning：this imagine will contain use of drugs and alcohol，strong language and sexual content. read at your discretion.

fun-size playlist：i. anderson .paak，snoop dogg ⅋ the last artful，dodgr - anywhere，ii. slick rick - hey young world，iii. the art of noise - moments in love，iv. tyler，the creator，frank ocean ⅋ lætitia sadier - partyisntover╱campfire╱bimmer，v. lloyd - streetlove，vi. earth，wind ⅋ fire - can’t hide love，vii. amerie - i just died，viii. iggy azalea - the last song，ix. rené ⅋ angela - my first love，x. minnie riperton - inside my love，xi. marvin gaye - i want you，xii. anita baker - been so long，xiii. silk sonic，bootsy collins - blast off. yes，this is sequenced! ‹𝟹

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀I’m slightly ashamed to admit that I’ve been working tirelessly on this piece since late November of last year. I don’t necessarily love it，but maybe it’ll grow on me later y’all，I don’t know��I’m honestly sick of looking at it at this point in time，so I’ma let y’all finally have it. Song lyrics provided by none other than Iggy Azalea with minor alterations done. In order to prevent confusion on y’all’s end，I also wanted to state that I had switched Pepa’s government name for Salt’s being that I thought it’d be more suiting to her character. Happy readings!⠀⠀⠀‘’

Detroit，Michigan · Mid-November of 1988

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓

⠀⠀⠀𝓢andra James had been suspended in a cyclone of her own creative process all afternoon. The habitual grey cloud of over-analyzation had swept in and funneled into a mass consisting of a slew of instrumental cassette tapes and paper balls full of unfinished song lyrics or absentminded scribbles scattered throughout the sitting room area of her very own single-family home.

After much deliberation, Sandra has finally subjected herself to the severe case of writer’s block, hurling herself against the back cushions of her navy blue leather sofa alongside the throw pillows and crumpled scraps of paper that simultaneously began to alight the seat upon her arrival with an exasperated sigh.

Her stomach growled ravenous. It was then that Sandra had come to terms with her biggest mistake that evening, she hadn’t eaten in a matter of several hours, and what was a storming brain without the fuel of glucose? She immediately began to brainstorm on a quick solution to her problem, internally battling between take-out Thai food or Pizza Hut, that is until the tone of her pager dissipated her train of thought completely.

Swiftly pushing the foam headphones to her Sony brand Walkman towards the back of her neck, Sandra stretched her hand out towards the Motorola Bravo pager sitting out on the glass top coffee table before her before her eyes skimmed over the triple-digit code currently being displayed on it’s LCD.

911.

Not an emergency, but more so an urgency to return her best friend’s call.

Retrieving her solid Motorola DynaTAC cell phone from it’s place on the abstract rug of the sitting room, her natural manicure danced along the keypad, punching in a number she had memorized since being an adolescent.

“Yo?” Sandra greeted her friend of twenty-two years with little to no enthusiasm at all, knowing that nine times out of ten the information that she was preparing to spew wasn’t that crucial to begin with, but she was wrong, and she knew that once Slick Rick’s “Hey Young World” began to drown through the transmitter. RollerCade had to be poppin’ at this time of night.

“Bitch, what the fuck do you mean ‘Yo?’ You were suppose to be meeting me outside RollerCade an hour ago! What’s the hold up?” Her best friend shouted over the accompanying Hip-Hop track although her voice tended to carry that way often. Sanda stood corrected.

“My bad, Roxxane. I got wrapped up with penning rhymes, you know how it is. Who’s all there anyway?”

“Ohh, no one special. It’s just me, Martin, both Chris’... Oh, and that music producer you like. What’s his name again? Herbert? Herb?”

“Hurby’s there?!” Sandra exclaimed, nearly flying off the couch in search of her Nike Air Trainer SCs.

“Yup!”

“Like right now?!”

“Yeah. Maybe you can slip some of your tapes to him while he’s here. You know they be dope.” Roxxane persuaded, but mostly for her own sake of the opportunity to flap her gums.

“Say no more, I’m on my way!”

“Not in that busted ass Pontiac you ain’t!”

“Why you always dissin’ my whip, Roxxy? You know it gets me where I need to be.”

“Yeah, when it wants to. You know that shit be breakin’ down, girl. I don’t why you be puttin’ on. Makin’ all that dough as a sales lead at Saks and still can’t afford a new whip. It’s a wonder how you even get there on time the way that you do.”

“Whatever, you know I’ma always make somethin’ shake. You just keep that in mind the next time you ask for a lift. I’ll see you in twenty.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Peace!” Roxxane hadn’t given Sandra the opportunity of biding her farewell before ending the call.

Sandra could only shake her head at her best friend’s usual antics as she carelessly tossed the hefty cell phone onto the sofa before going to slip her dainty feet into her SCs with her solid 24k rope chain and bamboo earrings swinging from their places on her neck and earlobes from her movements alone. Next came her navy blue leather fringe jacket that coordinated all to well with the “Medicine Ball” colorway of her sneakers and layered over her solid white turtleneck and high-waisted paperbag style acid washed jeans. She was sure to secure her pager onto her waistline alongside her Walkman, stash her notepad full of rhymes and no. 2 pencil inside her Gucci monogram shoulder bag and grab her lanyard before splitting the front door.

Though the baluster to her front porch had progressively froze over throughout the day, it hadn’t one stopped Sandra from using it in assisting her down the steps and into the harsh -15° weather. Ice flurries almost immediately came whisking past her petite frame, causing her to cup her bare hands over her mouth and huff into them before rubbing them together vigorously in order to gain some sort of body heat back.

She was well aware in tonight’s clothing pieces being rather scanty, but she’d risk coming down with a common cold any given day if it meant looking fashionable while doing so and that’s how she’d always been, even as an disobedient adolescent.

She cautiously trudged over the pathway covered in black ice in order to reach the door of the chain-link fence, thankfully without slipping up on her ass. She yanked the fence’s door closed with slight aggression due to the 8.4″ of snow blocking it’s usual pathway before securely locking it and racing towards the driver’s side door of her Pontiac Phoenix where she would unlock it using it’s key before climbing inside and slamming it back shut behind her.

She repeated the same three-step routine she once did outside the parked vehicle in order to keep warm before her trembling hands could even locate the ignition. Absentmindedly turning the key until it aligned with the start point in the ignition switch, Sandra could feel her heart palpitate as the dreadful sound of the engine stalling came to her dismay.

“Nooo!” She muttered between clenched teeth, her numbing fingers gripping the steering wheel in apprehension until her knuckles practically turned white. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” She coaxed the vehicle, finally witnessing the water vapor pour from her crimson painted lips as she slowly bought the key back to it’s lock point before swiftly bringing it to it’s start point again with the same result. Then again. “Fuck!” She bellowed in frustration, banging her closed fists against the steering wheel before sitting back with a heavy sigh of defeat. She had been jinxed.

She sat there for a stalling moment in contemplation of going back outside in the cold before snatching the key from the ignition, pulling the inner door handle and proceeding to do it anyway. She’d forgotten her quads anyhow. She retraced her every step up until she was standing in the middle of her sitting room yet again with her cell phone pressed against her ear after hitting redial.

“What’s up?” Roxanne answered the phone in such a jubilant manner over the party music that it pissed Sandra off. It pained her that her best friend was having the time of her life without her company.

“Bitch, you jinxed me!” Sandra exclaimed, falling back on her leather recliner with her head in her hand.

“How so? Wait, wait, wait, don’t tell me that, that busted ass Pontiac gave out again? I told your hardheaded ass to let that car go months ago.”

“Whatever, Roxxy. All I need is a quick jump and I’ll be there. You know anybody?”

“Shit, it needs more than that. Your neighbors can’t give you one?” Sandra picked her head up, staring straight into the imaginary camera of life with a stale expression.

“No. You know damn well Mr. Boyd works overnight and Mrs. Green got glaucoma! Why do you think I’m asking you?!”

“Damn, my bad then. What about a taxi?”

“Roxxane, please!”

“Okay! Um, let me think. There is this one man my pops works with at the Cadillac factory, Mr. Charles Flenory. He’s always fixin’ shit for other people, especially that conniving Pastor Swift, so I don’t see why he couldn’t help you out with your situation? Plus him and his family live in Ecorse, that’s closer to where you stay. Just be wary of his sons if they were to pick up, heard bad news about ‘em.”

“Ahh, but I thought you liked trouble?”

“Sometimes. but this ain’t about me right now. Take this number down...”

Once jotting the number Roxxane had given her down on the flesh of the thenar muscle of her left hand and properly bidding her best friend farewell a second time around, Sandra hadn’t wasted a stalling moment on boldly punching the unfamiliar number into her cell phone because she knew if she hadn’t pushed herself to do so, she would’ve been sitting there all night having psychological debates with her own form of anxiety.

The dark cyan corded telephone which was mounted to the floral patterned kitchen walls of the Flenory’s residence had simultaneously began to ring as the eldest child, Demetrius Edward Flenory otherwise known as “Big Meech” or simply “Meech” had discovered a new route into the same overfamiliar property he had been banished from merely weeks ago.

Placing the same exact wad of cash he attempted to grant his father the last time he had seen him beside the glass of tap water he had once sipped from on the kitchen counter, Demetrius raced his way over to the telephone with much attitude, snatching it off the hook before it could ring a second time and blow his whole cover, wondering who could be callin’ the house this time of night.

“Yo?!” His baritone range intimidatingly huffed through the transmitter, serenading Sandra’s eardrums and causing her legs pry shut on instant.

She couldn’t quite understand why her body reacted this way, but she quickly thought of a plan to redeem herself, putting on her best saleswoman voice which was something she was highly experienced at when dealing with all the upper class privileged folks at her day job. If she fucked this up, she was definitely in for the night. No RollerCade.

“Um, y-yes. Hi. I apologize for calling at such an inconvenient time like this, but I was wondering would it possible for me to speak with a Mr. Charles Flenory?” She forcefully grinned as if this stranger on the opposite end of the call could actually see her, double-checking the name written out on her left hand to ensure it’s accuracy.

Demetrius’ initial impression was that the woman speaking sounded fairly young, likely around him and Terry’s age group, if anything. He was oddly banking on her being a possible lead in the demise of his father. A plausible fling would finally put his plan of revenge into execution.

“He’s out right now,” Demetrius lied straight through his teeth, fully aware that his father was upstairs resting alongside his mother. “Who’s speaking?”

Sandra could feel her heart sink in disappointment, knowing she wouldn’t be apart of the RollerCade festivities tonight.

“My name’s Sandra, Sandra James, but everyone calls me Sandy.”

“With a name like that, you’ve got to be a bill collector.” Demetrius was seconds away from slamming the phone down on the hook until she began to reason with him.

“Oh, of course not! A-Actually my friend recommended me this number on a whim. I’m trying to get a jump for my car.”

“Mmcht!” Demetrius kissed his teeth, flicking his 18k Yellow Gold Patek Philippe brand wristwatch in a nonchalant manner. “That’s all? That’s slight work. I can do that for you. Where you stay at?”

“You can?!” Sandra perked up at his offer, but quickly came down on account of what Roxxane had stated in their last phone conversation. By now she had it figured out that she had to have been speaking with one of Charles’ sons which meant no inconveniences. “I mean... I stay on Garland Street. It’s going to be the house with the beige Pontiac parked in front of it.” She stated coolly, nodding her head.

“I know where that’s at. I can make it there in twenty.”

“Thank you so much! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this!”

“No sweat. I’m Demetrius by the way, but everyone calls me Meech. I’m Charles’ eldest son.”

“Nice to meet you, Meech. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon?”

“For sure.”

“Thank you again!” Sandra ended the call with the phone pressed against her beaming lips.

She had so much optimism in a person she hadn’t been acquainted with over ten minutes ago. So much for that nuisance Roxxane spoke of.

Roxxane’s sentiments on the Flenor boys turned out to be indeed accurate or at least that’s what Sandra had assumed as she paced behind her security door with a pair of jumper cables in hand. She had been in that same position for the past thirty minutes and counting, anticipating Demetrius’ arrival. She was about ready to throw in the towel until witnessing a scarlet red 1988 model BMW E30 M3 accelerate down her block and park directly in the middle of the street as if they owned it.

She could make out the garbled instrumental of The Art Of Noise’s “Moments In Love” blaring from the custom sound system of their vehicle as she gawked at it, curious to know the occupant who sat behind those tinted windows. By the gold rim detail, she could almost guess a drug dealer of some sorts since that’s all whoever owned them in Motor City nowadays anyhow, but who was she to make assumptions this early on? All she did know was that the vehicle put her Pontiac to shame! She was almost embarrassed by it.

The German owned vehicle was indeed fascinating to Sandra, obviously, just not as fascinating as the driver making an exit from it. This was evident in her sudden symptoms of cotton mouth and piercing dark brown irises as they followed the stranger from the running vehicle to the door of her front gate.

Proximate in Sandra’s complexion if not darker, he stood at a solid 5′8″ in his navy blue colorway Adidas brand Campus 80s sneakers, jet black vinyl parachute trousers, navy blue satin button-up and black mid-length mink fur jacket. By the yellow polarized Cazal brand sunglasses sitting upon his nose, the hefty rope chains looping through an custom M initial and 50 Boyz gold plated pendant and his rattail, Sandra knew she stood correct on his occupation.

That hadn’t once stopped her from tucking the jumper cables beneath her arm as she aggressively scavenged her shoulder bag for her favorite tube of Chanel Rouge lipstick. She swiftly stepped aside in order to touch-up her lipstick in the entryway mirror, smearing a second coat over the dull first coat before tracing her pinky finger around the corners of her full lips to correct any imperfections, tightly rubbing them together and releasing them with a dramatic pop.

She aggressively fluffed and tugged at the loose curls of her honey blonde and chestnut pixie haircut with an exasperated sigh. All she could dwell on in that moment was her regret for not treating them with mousse, oil sheen nor oil itself earlier in the day.

Her train of thought was once again dissipated by three light taps against her security door.

Showtime! She thought, stepping into his view.

“Hi,” Sandra greeted, feeling her heart palpitate while bearing witness to all the features which made him attractive up-close. He could say the same about her. “Meech, is it?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Demetrius chuckled nervously, his clammy hands remained resting in the pockets of his mink because there was just no way in hell a woman, of all people was making him sweat. “You must be Sandy?”

“Of course! I’m so glad you were able to find me in this weather,” She quickly unlocked the security door, watching him carefully step back as she slowly pushed it open before leaning against the frame. “Would you like to come in?”

“Actually I have somewhere to be, so if we could just...” Demetrius whirled his index finger in midair with an animated whistle, the Patek Philippe now visibly glinting on his wrist as he hoped to expedite the process, but Sandra was on to his apprehension.

“You just passed it,” She smirked, nudging her head in the direction of where her vehicle was parked at, causing him to look between the two of them. “My car, I mean.”

“You mean to tell me that, that Pontiac is yours?” He squinted his eyes in disbelief.

“Well everybody’s not as flashy as you, Demetrius. Is there a problem?” She questioned defensively.

“Nah,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mind if I have a look at it?”

“Feel free!” She exclaimed, handing over her keys with no hesitation in which he happily accepted before proceeding to jog back down the flight of porch steps with her, the jumper cables and a flashlight in tow.

The last very last thing that Sandra wanted to do was make a nuisance of herself while being in his presence, but she’d much rather save him the trip back to her doorstep and herself the embarrassment since she evidently had an idea of what would be said. She had heard it all before.

Sandra stood at his side, aiming her flashlight directing under the hood once he went to prop it open using the support of the strut rod.

“Damn, girl,” Demetrius grunted, batting his full lashes in disbelief at what he was actually viewing as both his hands gripped the perimeter of the open hood. “I ain’t no mechanic or nothin’, but your spark plugs fucked up!”

“Are they really?” Sandra grimaced between clenched teeth, feeling her heart palpitate as she looked between him and the engine of the vehicle as if she could actually identify the problem.

“Hell yeah,” He responded, carefully letting the hood of the vehicle back down. “When’s the last time you had someone look at this?”

“Oh, I-I don’t know really?” Her hands gripped the flashlight with apprehension.

“Well I’m not trying to tell you what to do or whatever, but you better off leaving this shit alone the remainder of the night and comin’ to ride with me in my bimmer.” He stated, briefly brushing his hands off as if that would really rid the oil that stained them.

“Oh, no,” Sandra shook her head, tucking the flashlight beneath her arm along with the jumper cables after powering it off before pulling a pack of multi-surface wipes from her shoulder bag. She held out her hand for his in which he hadn’t hesitated on offering to her before she got down to business, scrubbing vigorously until every stain had been lifted from her sight. “As I was saying before, you’ve done enough for me already. I’ll be okay staying in for the night.”

“Yeah, well I insist,” Demetrius grinned, tucking his numb hands in the pockets of his mink after inspecting them front to back. “Go put up your mechanic shit and grab whatever else it is that you need. I’ll be out here waiting when you get back.”

“Well... If you insist...” Sandra dragged, treading back towards the open fence of her home once again. “It’ll only take a second!” She exclaimed, quickly plodding through the snow in order to reach her doorstep.

She split the security door, stomping the soles of her SCs against the entrance rug to rid the excess snow before gravitating towards the spandrel to exchange the jumper cables and flashlight for her solid white quads. After powering off all the appliances on the first level of her home and locking up, Sandra was climbing into the heated passenger seat of Demetrius’ M3 where Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Can’t Hide Love” played at a low volume and the pungent smell of marijuana and a vanilla scented Feu Orange brand air freshener enthralled her upon her entrance more than the butter interior.

Demetrius had just finished wrapping up an seemingly important conversation on the car’s custom telephone when he decided to finally place his focus on Sandra who was in the midst of placing her quads on the floor in front of her.

“Yo, you mind if I made a pit stop ‘round my way before I drop you off?” Demetrius asked, licking over his thin lips with his right hand gripping onto the gearshift and the other remaining resting on the steering wheel as his low eyes glanced in her direction.

“Sure.” She twitched a smile at him once they locked eyes to ensure her confirmation while adjusting the Cartier Love bracelet secured around her wrist and going to pull on her seatbelt.

“Coo’.” He responded, turning up the volume on his stereo before peeling off into the crisp night.

Fuck a Hurby at this point. Sandra was equally as happy being in the presence of Demetrius.

Demetrius Flenory discreetly pulled his BMW E30 M3 on the side of the overfamiliar GLS plant at a quarter past ten o’clock, a refuge in which him, as well as those apart of his mob used to sling drugs.

Without stalling the engine of his vehicle by recollecting that in fact, there was another occupant besides himself, he instead reached for the buckle of his seat belt, pressing the pad of his thumb into it’s release button before glancing down at his wristwatch for the time.

10：17 PM.

There was only a measly window of time before RollerCade were to shut down for the night, but he hadn’t thought she cared much anymore seeing how she had her face seemingly pressed into her notepad since they were halfway there. If all else failed, he didn’t mind taking her back home. He actually enjoyed the company for once.

“This should only take me a minute.” He stated, watching her aggressively press the led of her pencil into the acid-free sheet of paper within her notepad, from stanza to stanza.

“Yeah, sure.” She responded apathetically— Subconsciously, he was sure— not even bothering to meet his gaze.

“You hungry?”

Of course Demetrius felt a little empathetic of her situation. He took longer than usual arriving to her only to drag her there instead of where she actually wanted to be. Feeding her was the least that he could.

“I could eat.” Sandra played it coy with a simple shrug of her shoulders although the repetitive rumbling in her stomach— In which only she could hear over his preference of R&B— Came as a friendly reminder that she still hadn’t eaten since midday.

“Aight, coo’,” He nodded his head, pulling the inner door handle in order to step outside of the vehicle. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” Sandra smiled faintly, anticipating the second his door closed to lower the volume on his stereo so that she could actually hear herself think.

It was as if a burst of inspiration had hit her not even halfway through the ride and she couldn’t help but to take advantage of the situation, even if it all had hailed from Demetrius himself.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀Damn，well... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Without meaning to seems I ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Think I met someone ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But he ain’t really my type，shit ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He only 21 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His fingers do the talkin’ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Where he’s from，will be his coffin ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Every time this nigga drive me ‘round，think I might go down on arson，but...⠀〟

Sandra had only met Demetrius’ acquaintance well over three hours ago and had already begun to familiarize herself with his horrendous habit of time management. One thing she could applaud him on though was keeping his word.

He returned to the idle vehicle forty minutes after the hour with a kraft paper bag stained in grease and a joint rolled with Zig-Zag brand paper. The presentation of it was less than satisfactory in her opinion, but it was the aroma that really made her curious enough to want a taste. Who was she kidding? Hell, she was so hungry in that moment, in fact, she would’ve eaten a horse if he offered it to her.

“I got your food!” He announced, practically gleaming as he handed over the bag of raucous.

“Yeah, forty minutes later,” She scoffed, although politely accepting of it, welcoming it into her lap. “Thank you.” She expressed bashfully, unfolding the bag to spot a plastic hinged food container loaded with a chicken quesadilla, seasoned shoestring fries and Heinz brand ketchup packets.

“I got tied up in some business, my apologies. At least it’s still fresh.” He finally had the opportunity of sparking his joint, glancing over at her spreading light amounts of ketchup over the pile of fries before gracefully going to feed her appetite. “You always eat like that?” He couldn’t resist asking as clouds of smoke poured from his lips.

“Like what?” She inquired with her fist covering her mouth as she silently chewed on her food.

“Like a damn bird.” He chucked, casually taking another hit from his joint.

“I guess you could say that?” She shrugged, having no right or wrong answer to his question as she proceeded to feed her face.

“What about skating? You do that shit often?” He asked, and for a split second made Sandra realize where she was actually intending to be at this time of night besides caught up on his aura.

“Outside of bustin’ my ass at Saks and writing rhymes, yes.”

“Ohh, so that’s what this is about?” Demetrius playfully snatched up the open notepad that had absentmindedly slipped into the console when she went to reach for her meal earlier. Sandra could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop beating when he began to recite the lyrics written about him.

“No, please don’t—” She began to plead with him, outstretching her hand for what was rightfully hers, but she had came a second too late.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀We haven’t even kissed yet ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But that just makes me want him more ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Plus he love his momma，yep ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He a family man ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And even though the ratchets love him ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I still think he a gentleman，”

Sandra wasn’t afraid to admit to her own lyrics being subpar, hell, a satire of their initial acquaintance if anything, but it was the delivery of the nursery rhyme that made her embarrassed of it and that told Demetrious everything that he needed to know. This was evidently about him.

The way her cheeks flushed crimson before it came down to her trying her luck again further proved that. She slowly extended her hand out for the notepad that he had clenched within his left just outside the window when their lips coincidentally locked before execution.

The amateur kiss had really only lasted a few seconds, but seemed like forever in Sandra’s apprehension as she was the first to pull back and adjust herself correctly in the passenger seat once regaining possession of her notepad. There was a tingling sensation left lingering on her full lips as she was finally able to distinguish his preferred strain of Sour Diesal.

He had her right where he wanted her, flustered and flirting with the idea of going in for more.

“I-I’m sorry.” Sandra bashfully apologized with her head in her lap as she twiddled her thumbs though she wasn’t all at fault.

“N-Nah, you good,” Demetrius casually pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head in embarrassment before his hand found the gearshift again. “Don’t even trip on that. That was on me. I initiated it.”

“Wait, Demetrius...” She readjusted herself in the passenger seat, her leg pulled within it so that she was facing towards him before reaching for the key in the ignition switch and turning it until it aligned with the “ACC” point where “My First Love” by René & Angela could still be heard playing at a low volume on the stereo. “I’d be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t feelin’ you as much as I said I was in my rhymes. I’m just... Scared? Scared of what you’ll think of me after tonight if I actually fell through with this. If I’m being honest here, I ain’t never did no shit like this before.” She snorted in amusement at the words that escaped her lips not even a minute ago as she raked her fingers through the loose curls of her pixie, her head remaining within her lap.

“You don’t ever have to worry ‘bout no shit like that happenin’ with me, ‘cause I ain’t the one to kiss and tell, baby,” His relatively large hand went from clutching the gearshift to caressing her beaming cheeks, causing her to finally gaze at him. “I’ll be as slow and gentle as you want me to be.”

“Promise?” She questioned in a whisper, finding herself already falling into his trap when she kicked her sneakers and peeled her jacket off before straddling his lap.

“I promise, momma. I promise.” He smirked, his hand going from caressing her cheek to snaking around the nape of her neck, bringing her into a open-mouthed kiss far more passionate than the first.

His lips engulfed hers, swallowing what was left in the traces of her favorite lipstick shade of Rouge by Chanel until they were completely bare and past the point of swollen from his alone. She was slightly inept in her approaches, but caught on to his actions rather vastly. If his head were tilting to the right then hers was tilting to the left, if his fingers were gripping her neck then chances are that hers was tracing throughout his scalp until reaching his rattail and if his tongue were exploring every crevice of her mouth than so was hers.

Their kiss had broken in infectious laughter when Demetrius unexpectedly decided to recline the seat back even further using the adjustment handle to the left of them, puling away from her lips prematurely.

Sandra took this time of separation to gather the hem of her turtleneck within her hands before peeling it off, her solid rope chain falling back in position between the valley of her C-cup breasts. Next would come her acid washed, leaving her in nothing but a satin red triangle bra, a matching high-cut thong and her slouch socks.

Demetrius couldn’t help but to admire her in that position of vulnerability, his seemingly perfect top alignment of teeth closing in over his bottom lip as his frigid hands went from teasingly caressing her bare thighs to squeezing at her dainty waist, her stomach flexing and goosebumps surfacing her flesh at his touch almost immediately.

He sat upright just as his hands found the clasp of her bra, skillfully unhooking it before watching the thick straps cascade down her arms. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples, brown and taut from the air that was hitting them. As much as he craved the need to want to suckle on her, he instead chose to take the slow route as that was what he promised to her.

His hands cupped her diamond-shaped face, slightly tilting it at an angle where he could access her collarbone easily. She grabbed at his wrists in preparation as his lips pecked at the sensitive area before sucking feverishly on it and even daring to sink his teeth into it, leaving blots of purple and red behind. Subconsciously marking his territory. His lips trailed further down to the valley of her breasts as his hands fell to the small of her back.

Growing impatient with his teasing, Sandra tugged her fingers through Demetrius’ kinky fro while deeply arching her back against the steering wheel so that her perky breasts were right within his reach.

Demetrius really couldn’t help but to chuckle at her desperation as his tongue encircled her areola before welcoming her whole nipple into his mouth. Wanting to leave no breast unattended, a free hand crept up to toy with the opposite while the other caressed her lower back. He alternated these actions often, his almond eyes never leaving hers as he witnessed her jaw slack and her eyebrows crease in immense pleasure.

“Oh my— Shit!” Sandra found it extremely difficult to hold eye contact with him now as her head flew back. The seat of her panties became saturated in her own wake as she rode out her own subtle orgasm right in the comfort of his lap.

Demetrius was barely touching the young woman and she was already cum’n for him. Words Sandra never even assumed would leave her mouth were now flying freely. He bought out the best in her if he did say so himself.

His wet lips found hers again, his arms snaking around her trembling waist before impulsively going to switch out their positions in the seat. Now she lie beneath him, admiring his features as he overshadowed her with the same thought in mind.

Minnie Riperton’s “Inside My Love” couldn’t have chosen a better time to be a symbolic representation of someone else’s union up until the very moment it played at a low volume on the stereo.

“You sure you wanna follow through with this, momma?.” Demetrius asked, stripping out his mink jacket, satin button-up and vinyl trousers, each article of clothing carelessly being hurled into the passenger seat along with the rest of hers once discarded. “It’s not as easy as it seems.”

The tent in his boxer briefs was as evident as ever now, putting Sandra’s mind in a nervous frenzy. He wanted this, but he wanted to be sure that she did too.

Sandra nodded her head vigorously to his question, her hands covering her now sensitive breasts, but that evidently weren’t enough consent for Demetrius.

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes,” She whimpered out in desperation, bringing herself up on her elbows where their lips met again. “Yes, daddy, I’m sure.”

Demetrius thought he’d lose all composure to the woman lying beneath him in that very moment, but he persevered.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” He mumbled against her lips as her cheeks radiated at his compliment for the umpteenth time that night. “Okay, momma, I need for you to listen carefully to what I’m about to ask of you,” Sandra could only nod her head in agreement. “Lay back down in this seat and spread your legs for daddy.”

With his eyes not once parting from hers, Demetrius watched as she went to recline back in the driver’s seat before her knees slightly parted. She was definitely testing his patience.

“Wider.” He ordered, voice low and authoritative as his jaw clenched.

Her legs spread the slightest as she nibbled into the corner of her lips.

“C’mon, momma,” He spanked rather roughly at her thigh, causing her to whine at the stinging mark his personalized 3-finger ring left behind. He wouldn’t have to handle her so roughly if she had been doing what he had asked of her. “Open ‘em wider so that I can see that pretty ass pussy.” He coerced, witnessing her legs fall in completely opposite directions at his command. “Yeah that’s it.”

Though he could sense her body cowering beneath his gaze due to her own insecurities, Demetrius really couldn’t help but to admire the way the thin fabric of her thong was being devoured and drowned in the arousal of her fleshy pussy.

“So fuckin’ wet...” He whispered his praise in a rich baritone, desperately wanting to play in it.

The pad of his thumb pressed directly into the area of fabric that covered her clit with much pressure, swiping to and fro as if he was working a joystick of some sort.

“Ahhh...” Sandra hissed lowly at the feeling she assumed only her fingers were capable of causing.

The way her body spasmed beneath his touch told him that he was doing something right. Her dainty hands encased his wrist as her legs pry shut in order to still his movements, even only for a stalling second, but to no avail.

“Aht, aht,” He expressed as if she were a child, tapping at her thigh yet again. “I said open ‘em.” He witnessed pleasure wash over her expression, her knees splitting the very moment she felt herself slick from the pressure of his fingers. “Good girl.”

He hooked his index finger through the seat of her panties, yanking the damp fabric aside just in the nick of time to witness the opaque cream seep from it’s opening. He impulsively went to thrust his middle finger inside her in a beckoning fashion in order to get her warmed up for the substantial course of action. His free hand going to pull his solid piece from the restraint of his briefs. He tasked between working her up and lubricating his shaft in his own saliva and precum.

“D-Daddy, aren’t we suppose to be using protection?” She stammered, feeling herself about to leak in his seat.

“I gotchu, momma. Trust me.” He persuaded, edging her orgasm by only a second when slipping his fingers from her before proceeding to bridge over her with a reassuring peck to her supple lips. “You just focus on relaxing.”

She nodded, her hands and legs impulsively falling into place on his lower back and waist. She submitted herself to him completely. It was his for the taking.

His hand remained fisting the base of his dick the moment he decided to push the head in. His thumb tracing her clit in order to alleviate some of the pain that she were in. Still her sweet gasps unified with that of Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You,” pussy clenching around him just the same way her thighs were at his waistline in attempt to stop what was coming as the roots of her natural nail beds aggressively raked into his shoulder blades.

“Open up for me, momma.” He groaned against her jawline, lingering wet kisses there as he pulled back from her tacky heat for only a split second before sinking back inside, bearing more inches than with the first.

It took a minute but her legs eventually fell open like he had asked, feet falling into the grips of the steering wheel like stirrups as her toes flexed at his penetration.

“Ow, Meechie!” She mewled, eyes screwed shut as tears clouded the vision she once had of him on top of her.

“I know, momma. I know,” He kissed away any stray tears that once stained her face. “Just a little more.”

Demetrius could feel his self-restraint regressing as his motion against her clit increased. He pulled back to his tip once more before plunging back inside her. Far more vigorous than the first, he finally felt himself break past her hymen. Even through a pulsating ache, her walls still welcomed him with a tight hug as they accommodated to his girth. They had sealed the deal. They were finally in sync with one another.

“Oh, shit!” Demetrius subconsciously groaned, face flushing febrile and jaw clenching at the traces of her juices and crimson ichor coating his shaft when he went to pull back.

“So much pressure.” She cried out, fingers marking up his rear window and legs flailing, but this had only given him more leverage.

His hands smoothed up the back of her thighs until her knees were touching her breasts. He made it his mission to reach her soul as he began slamming almost entirely all his body weight onto her. Though still in park, the car still moved at his actions, causing her mouth to fall open with no sound and her eyes to roll back until they were damn near white.

“Ain’t no angel no more now, hm?” He smirked condescendingly, biting into his bottom lip as he listened to her pussy talking back to him over his chains. “This my pussy, baby? Tell me that it’s all mine.”

“This your pussy, daddy,” She drawled, eye twitching the slightest at his pace as her nails pierced into his waist with the shattering thought of there being nowhere to run. “All yours! Uhn, Meech—”

“You cum’n for me, baby?”

“Yeah!” She squeaked, spots now clouding her vision as she finally sprayed against him.

Demetrius had scarcely given the young woman time to recover from her first real orgasm as he effortlessly tore the thong from her fragile body before flipping her onto her side. He hoisted her ass up, pussy spreading, just to see what he was working with as he pummeled back inside her snug cover without warning. His thrusts were deep and fleeting, continuously knocking at her spot.

“Oooh-a!” Her voice trembled, once hand kneading the flesh of her breasts as the other pressed against his abdomen. His eyes boring into hers.

Their rendezvous set them back. Any prior thought of them having places to go and people to meet was nonexistent up until the distinct chime of either of their pagers reeled them back in, Demetrius’ more than likely. Foolishly enough, Sandra still went reaching into the passenger’s seat only to have her arm snatched back and pinned against her chest, their fingers interlocking.

“Don’t move,” He slapped her ass aggressively, pressing his forehead against hers. “Don’t you fucking move. I wanna feel all this pussy.”

“Okay, okay, okay, Demetrius! Fuuuck!” He had sent her into another blinding orgasm just that quick. “What are you—” She gasped.

With what little space they did have, Demetrius had still managed to slink her lower half up to his mouth before his lips closed in over her aching clit. Normally, he wasn’t a fan of performing oral on women, especially not on a first encounter such as this one, but he made an exception for Sandra, wanting her first time to be memorable. Something she could finally gloat to her friends about.

“I just came, daddy! Please!” She begged to rest although her own body betrayed her when her ankles locked around his neck and her nails went digging into his scalp, pulling him in even closer.

“One more.” He groaned against her sex, knowing damn well he would be asking her for another round before their night ended.

He held her up by her waist, sinking his index and middle finger inside her entrance before his tongue rolled against her swollen bud again. Between him salivating against her clit and the gushing sound her body produced each and every time he went to pump his fingers inside of her, she didn’t know which one bought her to a climax faster.

“Uhhhn!” A guttural moan escaped her larynx as an overfamiliar feeling washed over her. She pushed at his forearm for release. ”Let go!”

Sinking back down into the driver’s seat, her hands cupped over her convulsing pussy as she curled up into a fetal position. She was winded and in tears over this one.

“You aight, momma?” Her body flinched at his touch as he rubbed her ass in order to calm her. She could only simply nod her head to his question as he gripped her chin, bringing her in for a small kiss. One that she could still taste herself with. “All fours.” He ordered in a gruff, lightly tapping at her ass.

Sandra sniffed, swiping beneath her nose before turning onto her stomach in the seat and bringing herself up on her hands and knees.

“Arch ya back, momma.” His hands pressed at the center of her spine, causing her head to lazily fall forward onto the rest as her hips spanned against him.

“Like this, daddy?” She seductively asked while wiggling her ass from side to side.

“Exactly like that.” His hand came cracking down on her ass once more, causing her to cry out before he was palming his stiff dick again and sinking back inside her warmth. Right where he belonged.

Her breath was shallow, toes flexing against the thick fabric of her socks as she took him to the hilt. His hands remained placed at her hips as he fed her pussy long strokes. Her ass clapped against his V-cut, his heavy sac slapping against her clit as he gained momentum. He’d occasionally slip out due to how wet she really was, but he’d dive right back in, carrying that same rhythm.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah...” Her moans imitated the cadence of his thrusts each and every time their hips would meet, putting him in a trance.

The windows were fogging at this point, the air around them becoming thick in their sex as their moans were loud enough to even drown out Anita Baker’s scatting over the stereo.

“Ohhh! Fuck me, Demetrius!” She moaned between clenched teeth, catching him off guard when she went to reach back for his chains.

“Shit, Sandy,” This groan came spontaneously as his body caved at the feeling of her walls contracting around his dick with a vice grip. He hadn’t expected her to catch on so fast and start throwing it back, hell, neither had she, but she wanted his nut just as bad as he had been chasing it. “Chill, chill chill!” He exclaimed, trying to restrain himself from doing something impulsive, but she hadn’t. Not even for a second.

His hands snaked around the front of neck, yanking her upright into his chest where his breath fanned over her ear and his thrusts began to dominate hers. If she even thought that she could fuck him into oblivion before he could do the same to her, she was sadly mistaken.

“Yeah, what was all that shit that you was talkin’ now? Must’ve forgotten who’s daddy ‘round here, huh? That’s okay, I’m here to remind you, baby girl.” His pounding hadn’t slacked. His fingers pressed into her neck furthermore as his lips pressed into her ear, making her dizzy. Sandra loved how vocal he was with her just the same way he loved to feel her get her rocks off by his stamina.

“I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n!” She squealed, her nails diggin’ into his hips as her eyes rolled back.

“Shit, me too, momma.” He groaned, his dick twitching inside her the second she seized against him while her cream slid off on his shaft.

With his hand remaining clasped around her neck, he pulled from her and immediately went to jerking his dick until spurts cum landed on her plump ass, lower back and his lower stomach. The sight was most rewarding.

He released her from his hold, her body falling into the chair once more as she struggled to keep her eyes open. The duo scarcely had time to collect themselves as there was a light tap against the driver’s side window.

The unwanted company was just a boy. Brown in complexion and unbelievably lanky in height and weight, an estimated 5′9″ at most if you had let Sandra tell it. He sported a hi-top fade, leather jacket and an overfamiliar 50 Boyz pendant identical to Demetrius’ which told her this wasn’t a stranger after all. He was an ally.

“Yo, Meech? You in there? Open up.” His knuckles impatiently drummed against the window again. He took a swift pull from his joint before attempting to peer past Demetrius’ tints.

“Shit!” Demetrius’ whispered, reaching for the glove compartment in a panic as Sandra went reaching for all the straps of clothing belonging to her that were thankfully still intact in the passenger seat.

Kraft paper napkins fell out onto the car floor where Sandra’s handbag and quads rested. Demetrius had still managed to catch a few, quickly going to wipe his jizz from his body as well as hers. She climbed into the backseat to pull on her clothes while Demetrius readjusted his seat, only bothering to toss on his briefs and button-up since there was only so much time to spare before the boy had gotten anymore suspicious than what he already was and called a whole SWAT team on his whereabouts. They didn’t need anymore intrusions as this was already embarrassing enough.

Demetrius cracked his window enough to where the boy could see his eyes.

“Yo? What’s up, B-Mickie?” Demetrius greeted his fellow caporegime.

“What’s up with me? Nigga, what’s up with you? I’ve been paging you since eleven. Here it is damn near going on one. Kato said she seen ya whip parked ‘round here, so I had to come check in.”

Demetrius had to catch himself from spazzing at the mention of Kato for B-Mickie’s sake. He understood his developing crush on the woman, but he had only hopes he was being wary of the company he kept. Her energy had been way off putting as of lately.

“So I guess you and Kato must be my parents now, huh?” Demetrius asked, his overfamiliar sarcasm finally leaking through.

B-Mickie could only kiss his teeth, taking another drag from his joint since it were the only thing keeping him warm then.

“Ain’t nobody even say all that, man. We were just concerned about you, that’s all.”

“Well you two should be more “concerned” about dishing out those rocks next time rather than me resting.”

“Resting?” B-Mickie chuckled at his audacity, flicking the ashes of his joint onto the pavement. “Yeah, okay, Meech. You got it.”

“Nigga, what’s so funny?”

“Nothin’, except the skates with pink wheels and Gucci bag in the floor of your passenger seat really add a nice touch to the finish.” Sandra’s fingers grew immobile against the fly of her jeans as she looked to Demetrius for an excuse of some sort, but he choked. B-Mickie was definitely on to them by now. “But before you lie about them being Nicole’s, I got a pretty good angle of the rearview from here. Great choice. She from ‘round here?”

“Get the fuck—” Demetrius was seconds away from stepping outside the vehicle until it registered that he was only clad in a top and undergarments. Maybe next time.

“Don’t answer that,” B-Mickie winked. “I’ll see you later, Meech. Goodnight, beautiful.” His palm came down on the roof of Demetrius’ bimmer a few times before he casually walked away.

Demetrius’ head fell back against the rest with an sigh of defeat just as Sandra had climbed her way back into the passenger seat with a sly smile tugging at her bare lips.

“Damn, girl,” Demetrius grinned sheepishly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You done got me caught up.” He could only hope that word hadn’t spread amongst those apart of his mob by now, but he knew B-Mickie’s intentions were nothing short of lighthearted. He had faith in him. He was loyal.

“No, you got yourself caught up when you decided to fuck me the way that you did,” Sandra stated, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror of the sun visor though it really did nothing in restoring her once kempt appearance. “Now come on and run me back home before more of your henchmen spin the block with a target on my back.”

“So I guess this is the part where I become grab-and-go dick for whenever you’re feeling spontaneous?” He questioned, aggressively pulling his trousers up around his waistline.

“Let’s just see how things pan out on the rug of my living room before I make that decision.” She smirked, his expression mirroring hers at the very mention of a second round.

“You tryna do it anywhere.” He chuckled, his hand fumbling for the gearshift and switch ignition before turning it to it’s “Start” point and peeling off into the night.

Sandra really hadn’t expected for this night to carry on further than their earlier phone conversation, let alone it ending with Demetrius being granted access to her most vital secrecy, but there she was. She didn’t know how far they were both willing to take this or where it’d even end, but she was definitely in for the ride.

“Hell yeah.” She nodded her head confidently before strapping herself in for the journey home.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sandra ゛⠀pepa⠀〟jacqueline denton，circa 1988 as 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐄 ゛⠀𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐗𝐘⠀〟

⤷ occupation：sandra’s best friend

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀myles truitt as 𝐁-𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 ❪d. meeks❫

⤷ occupation：caporegime of 50 boyz╱bmf

@forbeautyandlife╱@princesskillmonger╱@aislinnsilver╱@chaneajoyyy╱@loosewindmill╱@wawakanda-btch╱@muse-of-mbaku╱@eclecticblkgirl╱@raysunshine78╱@melaninmarvelgirl62╱@hidden-treasures21╱ @janelledarling╱@dameshaemonique╱@ljs-writing╱@ceeverse╱@aureahope╱@thadelightfulone╱@leahnicole1219╱@marvelmaree╱@fd-writes╱@myboyfriendgiriboy╱@yoyolovesbucky╱ @thiccdaddy-mbaku╱@lifelover4u╱@kaykay0829╱@theblulife╱@sheisexcellent-blog╱@thehomierobbstark╱@allhailqueennel╱@goldenfenxty╱@quietstorm-73╱@marysxo╱@tashawar╱@bitchacho25╱@diva-princess-on-fleek @tip222u╱@soulsparker╱@soufcakmistress╱@jimizwidow╱@lameasskara @dangerous-history╱@fiercedeception╱@btitannaaaaa╱@alittlejd╱@lilangelikaa╱@alookintohersoul╱@richonne4life╱@kemkem101╱@shyblackgurl╱@xsweetdellzx ╱@keyera-jackson╱@90sisthenew80s╱@judymfmoody╱@novaniskye╱@elocinnicole

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀This is me very humbly stepping outside my comfort zone this evening to spontaneously tag people in order to gain some traction and successfully make it into their Tumblr algorithm after a whole year.

Allow me to properly introduce myself，my name is Paris，I’m slowly but surely migrating my work from Wattpad to Tumblr again after ten years and I love to write about the Black and Brown men who don’t seem to get enough attention in my spare time，but especially those of the Hamilton community. Other works include Keith Powers，Leon Simmons ❪Isaiah K. John❫ of Snowfall and Zion Kuwonu of PRETTYMUCH. My series and imagines are almost always set in my favorite periods of time. If these seem to be like somethin’ you’d be interested then please，don’t be a stranger in asking to be apart of my tag list， but if not，I want to thank you for your consideration of clicking this notification anyway. It’s greatly appreciated. Before I go treat myself to a face mask，I just want it to be known that us authors within the Black community need the audience to reblog the work! Y’all have a good night watching Euphoria now, ‘cause I know I will! ‹𝟹⠀⠀⠀‘’

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