#yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

“Are you sure this isn��t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully. 

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need. 

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature. 

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said. 

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink. 

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you. 

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees. 

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort. 

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them. 

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time. 

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot. 

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs. 

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore. 

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them. 

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night. 

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor. 

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt. 

He was in a word: devastating. 

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked. 

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle. 

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped. 

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was. 

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his. 

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you? 

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go. 

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you. 

“My friends,” you finally said. 

“But no guy?” He asked. 

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said. 

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop. 

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked. 

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it. 

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere. 

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt. 

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.” 

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat! 

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose. 

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them. 

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends. 

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify. 

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right? 

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said. 

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. “I’m not oblivious!” 

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you. 

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach. 

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said. 

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels. 

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides. 

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole. 

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor. 

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around. 

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer. 

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment. 

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure. 

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle. 

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music. 

“What took you so long?” You asked. 

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!” 

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile. 

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said. 

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said. 

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly. 

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone. 

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said. 

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did. 

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?” 

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts. 

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps. 

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs. 

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him. 

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible. 

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow. 

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes. 

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone. 

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?” 

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said. 

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him. 

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?” 

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside. 

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening. 

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights. 

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him. 

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand. 

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him. 

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out. 

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end. 

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside. 

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room. 

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you. 

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words. 

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth. 

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned. 

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him. 

“Don’t control yourself,” you said. 

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider. 

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. 

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him. 

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you. 

“N-No,” you moaned. 

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces. 

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?” 

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips. 

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?” 

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close. 

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves. 

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked. 

“N-No,” you whined. 

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat. 

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching. 

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said. 

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface. 

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined. 

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?” 

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak? 

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts. 

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded. 

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin. 

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned. 

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin. 

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said. 

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs. 

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?! 

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air. 

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him. 

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick. 

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down. 

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said. 

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said. 

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean. 

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off. 

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him. 

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can’t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said. 

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees. 

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass. 

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out. 

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast? 

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked. 

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder. 

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick. 

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling. 

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said. 

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors. 

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin. 

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession. 

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned. 

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries. 

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned. 

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset. 

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once. 

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy. 

“Fuck,” he said. 

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to? 

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed? 

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat. 

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe. 

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled. 

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him. 

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?” 

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear. 

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light. 

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes. 

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank? 

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees. 

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked. 

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said. 

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said. 

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.” 

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned. 

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.” 

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face. 

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever. 

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart. 

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna. 

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight. 

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here. 

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together. 

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down. 

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy. 

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete. 

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted. 

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name. 

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy. 

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to. 

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.” 

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm. 

“I know. I know.” 

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.” 

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him? 

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent. 

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all. 

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said. 

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said. 

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms. 

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong? 

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms. 

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

[miyuhpapayuh]

twenty

“Oh my god, I know it's been a week but where the hell have you been??” Nique asks Zora, right before jumping damn near on top of her outside of her apartment.

“Nique!” She laughs, catching her before they both hit the ground, all the while Leon's coming up with her suitcase, staring between the two like they were crazy.

“What—”

“Lank!” Nique squeals, smacking him up for all the days she wasn't able to. Just like a sister. He chuckles and swats at her, ultimately pulling her into a bear hug.

“Missed you short stuff!”

“Yeah, y'all just left us behind out here!” She laughs, following them into the apartment.

“It was only a week! You didn't miss us that much!” Zora laughs, leaning on her kitchen counter, while Leon plops down on the sofa.

“I did, too! Darnell missed Leon so damn much, he's been tearing my ear up about all the shit they used to get into in college— getting on my nerves, man!” She laughs, making them join in.

“Ah, he done told you about some wild ass shit ain't he?”

“Has he! What's up with y'all and streaking?!”

“I'm not even surprised,” Zora laughs, moving to take her suitcase into her room.

“Man, we was proud of them track bodies, girl! They was gon see us!” He animatedly yells.

“Oh my god,” Nique laughs, rolling her eyes. “How can I save Zora from the madness??”

“It's already too late!” She yells from her bedroom, making them snicker up a storm.

“Stop laughing Nique! It's too late for you, too!”

“Nah for real, y'all treatin’ each other nice?” Leon asks, first time he's asked about their relationship.

“Yeah, he's really a sweetheart. Might like his ass too much,” she laughs, “but that's my baby.”

“Aw, that's cute! I'm happy for y'all.”

“Thanks!”

“Nique, I need assistance right quick!” Zora hollers again, making Nique disappear down the hallway.

“Yes?”

“Are we having a sleepover tonight?”

“Uh, duh! I need to be caught up, cause Neoma told me some things about some things, and I gotta hear it from you to piece it all together.”

“Oh lord. This finna be a mess.”

“My favorite!”

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“Okay, spill!”

“So, before we went on this nice lil vacation, we ran into a little more bullshit. I'm assuming you heard about Craig and Eryn?”

“Have I? Eryn is ready to sink her teeth into that boy! I'm ready to do it for her, cause he knows he's wrong.”

“I agree! He definitely shoulda let them work that out, cause Eryn isn't a child anymore. I think that might've influenced his decision cause they've known her for so long— no excuse. She's grown now.”

“Yeah?? And I don't know how well the conversation between them went, but she still seems kinda sad about it all.”

“Really? I haven't talked to her since we left. But that's another thing! After Leon finds out about everything from Craig, he starts telling me about it, and I already kinda knew about it cause she sat down and told me, like a day or so before.”

“Oh no,” Nique says, shaking her head. “She got you all caught up in it, huh?”

“Yeah, but I'm not mad at her. She just needed advice. Leon did kinda blow up on me, though.”

“Huh??” Nique asks, damn near breaking her neck to look over at her.

“Yeah, he was feelin’ it that day, I don't know.” She shrugs.

“Zora, what do you mean he blew up on you? He yelled at you?”

“No, no. He cut me off while I was trying to talk to him about everything. He asked me if she ran it by me and I told him the truth cause I didn't wanna be in the middle, and he like hopped off the couch and I'm still telling him that I didn't wanna be in the middle cause now he's upset and he's saying that he ain't mad at me, but he also just pacing back and forth and I was kinda nervous, I ain't gon lie. And I'm just tryna reason with him and his fuse is really short, so he cut me off and shut the conversation down.” She sighs, eating another handful of popcorn.

“And then what happened??”

“Oh, he was definitely asking for forgiveness before leaving the crib, but I wasn't up for talking anymore. You don't cut me off and expect a conversation after that. Kissed his ass goodbye and he came to my job the next day with flowers and another apology. I think he almost cried tryna talk to me. Hell, I know I cried enough.” She laughs, while Nique is still staring at her.

“Do I need to kill him?”

“No,” she laughs again, reaching out to grab the hand that's closest to her. “He apologized. Several times. Took me home and made it up to me real nice. He's a good man, just has a temper problem.”

“Hm. I'll keep my guns near, just in case.”

“Lord. He knows not to test it. Trust.”

“Why? You tie him up when y'all got out to that cabin?”

“You're so nasty, no. I definitely taught him what patience is, cause he was killing my nerves.”

“How I'm nasty? I'm talking about straight torture shit! Shoulda muzzled his ass.” She huffs, but Zora shakes her head.

“You know I use my powers for good and not evil… anymore. He understood I wasn't playing. I promise you, he don't want whatever ill fate awaits him if he even thinks about it.”

“Okay, I'll let it go. This time.”

“Good, I'd hate for shorty and lank to call it quits!” She frowns, making Nique smile and shake her head.

“He better be glad I like him a lil bit, cause I'll still kill him. It just won't be as harsh as normal.” She shrugs.

“Girl, anyway. Back to Eryn. I hope she's okay. Maybe I'll call her in a few days.”

“Yeah, poor baby. I had to get your sister together a lil bit, too.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Done found a lil rockheaded boy to ride and now she lost her mind. Cause why was she bucking up at me cause I told her that she was wrong for giving him the okay to say shit to Leon?! Like I ain't wrong for saying that! Am I?”

“No. Absolutely not, she shouldn't have said anything to him but, “mind your business”, but you know how she is. Lovita is the same way. That older sister complex be havin’ them telling other people's kids what to do. Like how you giving him the go ahead??”

“That's what I tried to get her to make sense to me! Eryn wasn't mad at her, but I told her that she should be. Cause it's too many hands in this situation and she just an extra one that don't belong. Be a girlfriend, nothing more.”

“This really made you mad, huh?”

“Yes. Eryn is twenty five years old. She don't need nobody hovering over her back, snitching on her or whatever other stupid overstepping bullshit has been going on. We had a long heart to heart, cause I just feel like she's just been ridiculed by so many, she just needs some love.”

Zora nods, sighing deeply. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I feel for her, I do. But she did speak up for herself. Leon said she was not happy with him yelling at her, ‘cause she is fragile right now, and that's not the way you get your point across anyway.”

“Good for her! Lank and his friends need to get it together. Neoma needs to get it together before I knock her out.”

“Y'all still beefin’??”

“Nah, I'm just saying. I mean, she was mad as hell when I left but so the fuck what? I shoulda sat in her face while she was mad, but I had a nail appointment.” She raps, while Zora shakes her head, staring at her imaginary audience. “But she got over herself after a day or so. The three of us had lunch and shit like usual, she was fine.”

“Y'all are gonna give me gray hair.”

“Please, if all you have to do is hear about it, I think you'll be okay. Besides, you've been living your carefree life since that boy came into it, so I don't wanna hear it.”

Zora can't help but smile, knowing it was the truth. Besides the minor bump in the road, the last almost year of her life has been absolutely wonderful.

“It's about time, I say.”

“Here, here!” Nique faux toasts with a handful of popcorn.

“Stupid,” Zora laughs.

“And, you know this!”

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“Wow, I forgot how good you looked in your uniform.” Zora says, shamelessly gawking at Leon as he walks around his room to tidy up, before heading off to work.

He chuckles, feeling his face grow hot. “Alright now.”

“For real. I need to come watch you work out now, cause the way them arms are filling out that sweater..” she trails off, shaking her head.

He stops in front of her, beginning to put on a show and flex for her. She giggles, eating it up.

“You like that, huh?”

“Oh, please. Don't start!” She warns, laughing it off as best as she can.

“Don't be shy, baby!” He laughs, bringing his arms down anyway.

“Stop, before I keep you here.” She half jokes, and he can see the seriousness in her deep brown eyes.

“Hm.. I might just have to be a lil late today.” He replied, leaning in to kiss her, unbuttoning her nightshirt.

“Yeah?”

“Just a lil,” he repeats, laughing at himself.

She squeals in excitement, rushing to unbutton his jeans and yank them down with his briefs, moaning at the sight of his dick already hard and ready to go.

“See? This happens every day.” He stresses, stepping closer between her legs to rub against her, his hands at either side of her head.

Reaching between them, she wraps her hand around him, guiding him inside of her, looking up to see his mouth open, eyes stuck on her in pure lust.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbles, languidly stroking just to hear the way her slick smacked through the air. His head dipped down to give wet kisses to her breasts.

“That happens every day, too,” she softly laughs.

His thrusts turn curt, poking right at her gut, making her claw at his arms and chest through the thick material, her wild moans bouncing off the walls of his room.

“Unh! Fuck me, just like that!”

“Mhm, it feels good don't it?”

“Yes! Please don't stop! Please!”

“Shit… I ain't stoppin’ baby… make you cum right on this dick.”

Her fingers ball up the material of his shirt, quickly losing her sanity as he drives right into her spot, bringing them both closer to their peaks.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes,” she whines, “fuckin’ hitting that spot, babyy!”

“Right here?”

“Yes, I'm so c-close!” She whines, pulling his face closer to hers as he cages her in, his scent evading her senses and vice versa.

“Cum with me,” he moans against her lips, gripping her hips tighter as she squeezes around him, giving him no choice but to give in to the sweet feeling.

“That was amazing,” she breathily laughs, smothering his lips with her own, much to his liking as he groans all into their liplock.

“I wanna be so much later now,” he chuckles, hissing as he slides out of her, still covered in her essence. Their breathing still ragged.

Zora licks her lips and gets on her knees on the bed, bending down to lick him clean. If he didn't have hearts for eyes already, they were definitely there now.

After sending him to work on a high he'd be on for a while, she went back to sleep for a few hours, woke back up and decided to channel her inner Leon and chef it up in his kitchen.

Her omelet was a success.

After a nice long hot shower and hygiene routine, she decided to get her mani/pedi redone. The color is orange.

Zora soon headed through the lounge with Leon's lunch in hand like always, loving the look on his face as he digs through the bag to see what she'd brought.

Today was a Cuban sandwich with fries, and he was more than delighted. “I've been craving one of these!”

“Yeah? I had one on my lunch break the other day, and it was so good! Had to get you one.”

“Thank you, baby.” He says with a kiss to her lips, as she sits down beside him.

“Welcome. How's your day been?”

“Great, actually. We got through most of our pallets already, so I might just get outta here early today.”

“Oh, I always love the sound of getting off work early! I hope you do make it home before six, today.”

"This morning gave me a lil extra motivation.” He nudges her with a smirk on his face, as she hides her own.

“Shut up,” she laughs as he wraps an arm around, pulling her closer to him. “But also, you're welcome.”

“Thank you sweet stuff. How's your day off been?” He asks, humming as he bites into his sandwich.

“Well, this morning was great,” she winks, making him chuckle. “But, I took a nap, got up and ate breakfast, then I went and got my toes done— they're orange like my nails, but my feet got cold so I had to put my socks back on. I'll show you later.” She smiles. “I've been laying around, other than that. It's too cold outside to be out there for too long.”

“What did you make?”

“An omelet. It was so good!” She smiles, making him mirror her in no time.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I gotta make you one. Use my secret ingredient.”

“Word? Let me find out you were a chef this whole time, Z.”

She laughs. “Oh come on, I'd never steal your lane. It's like a family secret but I add a lil sumn to mine. You'll love it, I promise.”

“I can't wait,” he fondly shakes his head, kissing her lips.

“Can't wait to see these cute ass toes either. Love ‘em.”

“You got a foot fetish?” She squints, to which he laughs.

“Zora, I've got a you fetish.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs to cover up the way she's just melted inside.

“Act like you ain't know,” he shakes his head, taking another couple bites of his sandwich.

“I don't wanna go back out in the cold. It's so bitter out there.” She says, looking out the big window in front of them.

“You ain't lying, babe. It's cold as fuck in the room we work in too. Metal insulation should've been installed a long time ago.”

“You need me to say something?” She asks, raising her brow.

“No, mama, I got it.” He snickers, kissing her forehead. 

“It better be in there by my next visit.” She firms, before leaning on him.

“They like yo pretty ass, ima tell ‘em so they can speed the process up.” He laughs.

“Whatever works, right?” She responds with a laugh of her own.

“Mmhm…whatchu feelin’ on me for, Jean?” He asks with a grin, already knowing what she was up to, rubbing on his knee, her hand casually sliding up.

“Ya know, just the sight of a hardworking man gets me going.”

“Yeah? Where's this hand of yours going?”

The way she licks her bottom lip, biting down on it before it escapes has him ready for whatever.

“I'll be waiting in the bathroom.” She says with a smile, before getting up from the table, leaving him dumbstruck.

She giggles before slipping into the employee bathroom, not having to wait long as he finally makes his way inside, locking the door behind himself.

“Hey.” She says, smirking as he walks them backwards into the counter, her body becoming flush with his, much to her liking.

“What's gotten into you, lately?” He playfully asks, rubbing her hips.

“I don't know, you said to ask for it any time I want it, but I think it's more fun this way.”

He chuckles, before spinning her backwards, her ass now pressed up against his crotch. She smirks at him through the mirror.

“How much time do we have?”

“Mm,” he shrugs. “A good ten minutes.”

“More than enough time.”

Her sweats and panties are pulled down, and he can't help but run his fingers through her slick folds, feeling how unbelievably wet she is.

“Fuck,” he mumbles before squatting down, stuffing his face in between her cheeks, burying his tongue in her.

Her hands find the countertop as she bites back her moans, rolling her hips against his face. He wildly licks her slit, before suckling her clit into his mouth.

“Please… that feels so good!” She quietly whines, reaching back to rub her fingers through his curls.

Her legs begin to shake as he wags his tongue against her, her grip on his hair tightening. Her soft panting is making him strain against his jeans.

“I'm g-gonna cum!” She whimpers, arching and gripping the back of his neck as she does just that, wetting up his nose and mouth with her juices.

He happily licked it up, standing up to yank his own bottoms down, groaning all in her ear as he stuffs himself inside of her, bottoming out. Her lips are pursed together tightly, thankfully muffling her gasp.

“Good ass pussy,” he lewdly moans.

Her eyes stay glued on their reflection, her mouth now agape as he taps that spot over and over again. The way she's squeezing around him feels heavenly.

“Fffuck,” she quietly moans, “hittin’ that fucking spot so good!”

“Yeah? This spot right here?” He taunts, smirking at the way her eyes rolled back, her lips sputtering out a yes.

One hand comes up to grip her neck, “say it again” spilling out of his mouth with a grunt.

“Yeah!— fuck, I'm c-cummin’!” She moans a bit louder than she meant to, quickly biting into her lip to muffle herself as her orgasm rushes through her. His strokes never cease.

“Mmhm, gimme that pussy,” he grunts, nearing his own peak as he gyrates into her, kissing the back of her neck.

“H-holy shit, babe,” she grits, biting down on her lip.

“So fucking close,” he grunts into her ear, digging a bit deeper inside.

She damn near draws blood from her lip by the time he's releasing inside of her, fingers bearing down on her hips, leaving bruises for her to admire later.

“You… are fucking incredible.” He rasps, as they laugh and catch their breaths.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Eryn’s busy shuffling through the small crowd of people at the mall, when she bumps into a familiar face. Just the person she was hunting for, too.

“And, so we meet again.” Craig says, trying to hide the fact that he might have been laying low, afraid to face her.

She scoffs. “At least we see each other this time.”

“Baby E—”

“Nope.” She cuts him off. “That's the issue, right there. I'm not a baby, Craig. You can't keep doing this shit like I'm that same little girl you knew way back when!”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” he holds his hands up in surrender. “I was in your business and I'm sorry.”

Eryn rolls her eyes before stepping around him, having no time for his tired apology. But he wasn't gonna stop, now that he'd started.

“Eryn, come on.” He says, walking after her.

“Nah, I'm cool. I don't have time for this.”

“For real? I'm tryna apologize to you—”

“Are you?” She stops and turns in his direction.

“Quit cuttin’ me off.”

“Stop saying stupid shit and maybe I'll refrain.” She spat, crossing her arms over her chest, making her many bracelets clink together.

He stares at her, holding his tongue because she was rightfully upset and now was not the time for banter.

“Look, I'm really sorry. I instantly regretted it after I said it. I even told him to relax on you cause maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. I know I shouldn't have done it, regardless. It's not my business.”

“No. It's not your business.” She frowns. “Had that man yelling at me like he'd lost his mind. I should kick your ass.”

“I know, I ain't mean to unleash all of that.”

She sucks her teeth. “Yeah, whatever. You wanted him to yell at me like he always does. That shit funny to you or something?”

“No!”

“Hm. Well, are we done here?” She asks.

“Uh yeah.. I guess? I don't think ima say anything to make you not mad at me.”

“No, you're not. Thanks for the apology, though. Just stay out of my business. I'm not your little sister.” She reminds him, before walking away.

“Damn.” Craig sadly mumbles before walking away with a hung head.

Her phone rings and she answers it with a bright smile. “Hey B, wassup?”

“I know you just left, but damn I miss you girl.” 

“Is that right? Maybe I'll swing back that way.”

“Yeah, why don't you do that. I got sumn for you when you get here.”

“If it's dick, you can keep it Brandon.” She laughs, and so does he.

“Come on, it's not like that. I actually got you something.”

“Mmhm, I'm on my way.”

Right after her heart to heart with Leon, she had a separate one with Brandon, in which she admitted her feelings and told him that they would unfortunately have to go their separate ways, to which he did not agree.

He had also developed a crush on her, in the time they had reconnected, and he wasn't gonna deny it just because his ex-best friend happened to be her brother.

He assured her that they would just have to talk it out. Said he was going to reach out to him personally, which she agreed and suggested that he should've done that in the first place, to which he agreed and apologized.

She was ready to face the music a second time, when the time came of course. But for right now, she was going to enjoy herself.

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“I haven't been home before six in so long,” Leon groans into the pillow, while Zora is perched on his lower back as she rubs her hands up and down his sore muscles.

“Getting off early is the best feeling, ain't it!” She laughs, moving up to his shoulder, rubbing his tense spots.

“Why are you so tense, baby?”

“I think I pulled something earlier,” he shrugs, instantly regretting it. Zora shakes her head like he can see her.

“Okay, relax..” she moves off of him, “sit up so I can get that knot out.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Moving behind his seated body, the natural heat between her thighs is warming his bare back. Her fingers relocate the knot in his left shoulder, working to relieve pressure.

His head lolls forward, his hands rubbing the sides of her thighs as she works her magic.

“Damn, that feels good.” He mumbles, eyes closed.

She smiles, dipping down to kiss the back of his neck. He was in pure bliss as her other hand reached for his other shoulder, kneading his skin like precious dough.

“What's the real reason why you're tense, Avery.” Zora asks again.

He sighs. “I don't know, I just feel like something’s going on.”

Her brows furrow. “With what or who?”

“Eryn.”

“Oh.”

“I know she's not a baby and she makes her own decisions. I just feel like… I don't know, I just don't like it.” He sighs again.

“Listen, baby. I know she's your sister and this isn't the ideal situation for either of you I'm sure, but she's gonna have to learn some things on her own. You can only guide her so much. You're only gonna give yourself a headache, worrying about that. I'm sure that if anything is going on, she'll tell you about it, just like she was about to the last time. Let her.”

“I hear you.”

“I'm serious, Avery.”

“I'll let her come to me. I hear you.” He repeats, turning his head to look back at her.

“Don't make me fight you.” She half jokes, mushing his head back in the other direction.

“Fight me naked?”

“That's our type of fight ain't it?” She snickers.

“Huh, you right.” He nods.

“Duh!” She replies without missing a beat, making him suck his teeth and laugh.

“Alright, you're kink free up here now. Please be more careful at work!” She scolds, still rubbing his left shoulder.

“I will, I promise. Now come lay with me.” He says, moving onto his back, and pulling her right down on top of him.

The covers fall over them as they snuggle up and rub their feet together. The heat was blasting through the vents, warming their cold bones right up.

“You think I need a space heater?” He asks, flipping through the channels.

“You be that cold at night?” She asks, drawing imaginary patterns on his right arm, already dozing off.

“Sometimes, yeah. I sleep with socks on like an old man, babe.” He stresses, making her tiredly laugh at him.

“Yeah, I'll get you one, then.”

“Oh, you don't have to do that.” He assures her.

“I want to. Don't fight me on it.” She playfully smacks his cheek, before sliding up to stuff her face into his neck, sighing contentedly.

“You comfy?” He asks, arms draped around her waist, rubbing circles into her hips as he begins to doze off, himself.

“So comfy.” She responds, before going super quiet, and ultimately falling asleep to his scent and the lull of his heartbeat.

Sometime later, after coming back from the bathroom, Leon slides back under the covers and kisses Zora’s forehead, softly laughing at her still being asleep.

Mindlessly scrolling through his phone, his eyes dart up to read the incoming message from Instagram. It was Brandon and he was ready to talk.

Tapping the message before it disappears, he taps across the screen and sends a message back, letting him know he was on his way.

“Z, baby,” he leans over to press kisses to her face, watching her stir slightly and reach out for him with her eyes still closed.

“I gotta head out real quick, baby.”

“Hm,” she stretches, rubbing her face, “where you goin’?”

“Gonna go chat with Brandon.” He simply says, making her eyes finally pop open.

“Before you start scolding me,” he continues, “I'm not gonna beat him up or yell or any of that. I'm going to hear him out, for real.”

She stares at him for a few seconds, before nodding and rubbing her eyes again. She was adorable when she'd just woken up from a nap.

“Okay, be careful. Where are you meeting him?” She asks.

“His crib.” He answers, still hovered over her.

“Okay. Call me when you get there.”

“Yes ma'am. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

It's finna get juicy!

21

@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @blackerthings @harmshake @brentfaiyazwhore @honestpreference @sheabuttahwrites @essaysbyciara @starcrossedxwriter @blowmymbackout @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @abeautifulmindexposed @henneseyhoe

[berberriescorner]

Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part One)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part One) 4,100+/9,000+. Sorry, lovelies, I couldn’t stop😆.

A/N: Yes, it’s lengthy, but the idea snowballed into something unexpected. I hope you all enjoy it!

Inspired By:

Lounging lazily on your king-size bed, you laid on your back comfortably in an oversized t-shirt. You silently scrolled through Instagram. Your breath hitched at the feel of fingertips gently stroking your calves. Still staring at the phone screen, a wicked little idea popped into your head. You smirked, tapping the add a new post button. Using your free hand, you positioned it atop the head that rested on your pelvis and between your thighs. Not wanting to give him reason to stir, you gently stroked his head, and he relaxed into your touch. The movement of your hand paused long enough to snap the picture. He was none the wiser as he continued to search for something to watch on HBO Max. Eyes still searching the screen, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Soft ass thighs.”

A soft moan fell from your lips. You made sure Yahya’s face wasn’t in the shot. Your digits glided across the keyboard, adding a Nicki Minaj lyric as the caption, “My man full, he just ate💦😘.” You tapped the post button and laid your phone on the nightstand.

Yahya had just licked you to tears. No one knew about the two of you. That you started as best friends turned into a sneaky link. The both of you have secretly been trying to figure out what this was morphing into. Unsure of where things were going, you decided to keep things quiet. You both enjoyed teasing the people in your inner circle on IG (they were all extremely nosey). Thus the reason for posting said pic—that it would sometimes get a rise out of the other person was a bonus.

Yahya received a notification that you had posted. Still lying between your legs, he teased, “What thirst trap are you posting now?” He froze, seeing a picture of his current position. He huffed, “You for real?”

Yahya rolled over, still lying on top of your stomach. His hand rained down on your thigh.

“I thought this was supposed to be on the low? You damn near ripped my head off for telling my bro I was over here in the middle of the night. I guess the rules only apply to me,” Yahya grumbled. His face changed from frustration to a sly grin.

“Boy, calm down. Nobody’s going to know that’s you. That’s what makes it so exciting, you teased. “And why do you have that stupid grin on your face?”

“I just noticed the caption, so I’m your man now?”

“Don’t do too much. They’re just lyrics. Relax, my guy.”

“Yeah, right. When are we going to stop playing this game?”

“What game, Yah'?”

“Stop acting like this isn’t more than just a sneaky link now. I’ve been blowing your back out for over four months.”

“And I greatly appreciate it. Why do we have to get into specifics? We have amazing sex. No need to make it more complicated.”

“Are you dating anyone else? I know you better not be fucking anybody other than me, Y/N.”

“I’d hardly call a few dinner dates that haven’t gone past friends, dating. It’s been nothing but innocent, Yah'.”

His jaw ticked at the revelation of you being in the presence of another man’s company.

“For the record, I don’t make a habit of having more than one sexual partner. That’s your thing, not mine.”

“You refuse to let that shit go, huh? I slept with her one time! We had just started whatever this was at the time. I cut her off once I knew this wasn't a one-and-done situation. Who exactly did you go on a date with, sweetheart?”

The question and term of endearment dripped with jealousy. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for more confrontation. There was no doubt in your mind that the answer would upset him.

“Michael. I know you don’t like him. We just went on two dates. Nothing happened, Yah'.”

He pulled into a seated position on the mattress.

“Out of all these thirsty ass dudes that beg for your attention. He had to be the one you said yes to. How many times have I told you that’s a waste of your time? How do I get you to understand that he just wants to knock you down?”

“Is that not what you’re doing with me?“

“Stop that shit. You know how I feel about you. Your ass doesn't want to hear it because you’re scared. We both know this could be so much more.”

“This is stupid. Why are we arguing? We’re not a couple. This is supposed to be easy and chill.”

“There you go deflecting as usual,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to delete the damn picture, Yahya? It’s the reason this conversation even took place.”

“No, no. Leave it up. You know what? You’re right, love. Lay back down. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.”

Yahya was the least bit worried about your IG post. It was only for close friends, and he wanted them to wonder. Acting angry was just a means to an end. He had a reason to get his lick back. Now, he had an excuse for what he was planning.

Hearing you went on two dates with Michael sent jealousy coursing through his veins. He made a mental note to keep his enemies closer. Seeing that you were focused on the show, he went to Instagram. Yahya went to Michael’s page and added him to his close friends. 

He wanted to see how your friends were reacting to your photo. He pulled up your page and skimmed through the comments. Yahya chuckled at your best friend's comment. In bold letters, she said, “Okay, best friend! I see you! No clue who that is, but get that head in your comfortable bed! Yaaasss👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾. I expect full details and a face reveal when we link tomorrow. I’m tired of all this damn anonymity.” Yahya laughed, knowing that you weren’t giving up any information.

Yahya waited two days before he put his plan in motion. He hit your line, inviting you for a movie night at his place. You were sure the night would end on your back with Yahya between your thighs. Anytime the two of you were alone, your hands always seemed to roam. Every time you two gave into temptation, it would go for rounds. Knowing this, you brought an overnight bag. He knew just how to put you to sleep.

Only twenty minutes into the movie, you were already at the edge of the mattress. Yahya placed you on all fours with your box braids wound tightly around his hand. He tugged at them, pulling you into the most perfect of arches. His free hand crept to the top of his nightstand. You were plunged deep into the throes of passion and hadn’t noticed him pick up his phone. The only light in the room came from the television. Pistoning in and out of your tight walls, he managed to open Instagram. Yahya needed it to be pitch black to pull off his scheme.

“Nobody watching this shit for real, baby. Alexa! Turn off the tv in the master bedroom,” he groaned.

The tv shut off as he pulled out and slammed back into your slick heat.

“Ye-yes. Fuck, baby,” you cried, arching your back deeper.

His face lit up at that. He continued giving slow, deep strokes as he recorded you both in the dark.

Yahya made sure this was for close friends only. With confirmation, he laid the phone on the mattress next to the two of you. He proceeded to put in work, going crazy in your walls. Your sweet, soft, and sensual moans were like music to his ears. You were used to Yahya laying some good pipe, but tonight he was on demon time. This man was trying to tear your walls down and ruin you for any other man.

“Feel me deep in your shit, baby?”

You moaned in response.

He thrust so deep that your hands instantly flew to his abdomen. You tried to push back against his stomach, wanting him to take it easy on you. He growled, binding your wrist with his free hand.

“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he half moaned, half growled. His hand let go of your hair and rained down, smacking and grabbing your left cheek. He slapped the right cheek before burying his digits in your braids again. “I thought you could take all of it, baby? That’s what you begged for. Right, love? Hmm? This ain’t what you wanted?”

You whimpered.

A faint “Please, Daddy” escaped your lips. 

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“I can-ah!”

“Yes, you can, baby. You gon’ be my good girl, and take it,” he whispered, trailing kisses down your back, fully sheathing himself inside you. His length tapped that spot deep within you.

 “Y-yes, baby, I’ll take it, g-give me that di-Yes, Yah'!”

Yahya tapped at your spot repetitively, sending you spiraling. You buried your face in the mattress, clawing at the bedding. Your release approached, barreling toward you like a freight train as you attempted to muffle your screams in the sheets.

“Good. Fucking. Girl. Each word was highlighted with another thrust. “Yeah, come just like that, mama.”

Satisfied with himself, Yahya ended the video and posted it to his stories. He hoped none of your closest friends would recognize your voice. There was only one person he needed to figure it out, Michael. Yahya knew you were going to throw a fit, but so long as nobody could see you. He felt he could get you to be cool with it. Leaning against you, he licked, nibbled, and kissed your shoulder. He was still plunged deep inside you and solid as a rock. Yahya’s lips trailed over to your ear. Releasing a deep groan, he rasped, “Hope you got one more in you, love. Daddy needs to come too. He pulled out until it was just the tip. About to respond, he plunged deep inside, forcing you to gasp. Yahya pulled two more orgasms from your body before spilling inside you.

He made quick work of getting a warm cloth to clean you up. You moaned at the sweet actions of his aftercare. Yahya smirked at how easily it was to turn you on. He swaggered into the bathroom and finished cleaning himself up. 

Collapsing into bed, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours. Rolling onto your side, you pushed back against him, making yourself the little spoon. Yahya’s hand crept from your thigh and up the side of your body. His large palm found its destination as it gently cupped your breast. His lips left light kisses on your shoulder and neck.

“You’re always trying to cop a feel,” you sassed, sucking your teeth.

“You know this is my emotional support Titty.”

“Shut up, Yah',” you giggled.

Yahya bit his lip and smirked as he tweaked your nipple.

“Uhn-uh! If you’re going to be on my body like this, your ass needs to behave and sit still. I’m exhausted thanks to your big dick bandit ass,” you teased.

“You know you like that shit,” he responded, tugging at your nipple again.

He pressed his semi-hard erection against you. The action caused your breath to hitch.

“Tell me you don’t want me again, and I’ll let you sleep,” he whispered, nibbling your earlobe.

About to reply sarcastically, you lost your train of thought as he dipped his hand between your thighs.

“You were saying something, love?”

“Fuck, you don’t play fair,” you panted.

“Come here, mama. Want you to ride me.”

Sliding down his length, it became clear you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Yah', baby,” you whined.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m going to make you feel good. Ride me, mama,” he urged, guiding your hips.

Though he had fallen asleep satiated and peacefully, his morning was the opposite. Yahya jolted out of his sleep as he struggled to breathe. You had covered his face with a pillow while chastising him.

“I just know your big-headed ass didn’t record us fucking and post it to close friends! Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”

Yahya's hand tugged at the pillow over his face. He snatched the pillow, throwing it across the room. He overpowered you, flipping you onto your back as he smirked.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want your side hoes to find out about me?”

“The only side hoe I have is you.”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’m your main dude. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Whatever! You better hope nobody recognizes my voice, freaky ass,” you kissed your teeth.

“Oh, I hope they do,” he smiled. “You’re not even mad, for real. I know that shit lowkey turns you on. Listen to those pretty little moans, mama.”

You did your best to bite back a smile but lost. Yahya licked his lips, giving you a million-dollar smile.

“I know I sound good. You ain’t gotta sweat me or nothin’.”

“I should’ve left the lights on while I recorded that shit. Give them something to really talk about.”

“You want to tell people we fuck so bad,” you teased.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. I’ma make you mine, shortie. You can continue to run from it but in the end. You’re going to be mine.”

Wanting to avoid such a touchy topic, you switched the subject.

“Boy, shut up and feed me. I’m hungry. What’s for breakfast, best friend?”

Yahya smiled devilishly, “This dick.”

“Nasty ass. I want food, Yah',” you whined.

“That’s a whole ass meal, fuck you mean?”

Eyes rolling and smacking your teeth, he laughed.

“I forgot how cranky you can be in the mornings. Let’s get the baby’s tummy full. What do you want to eat, baby girl,” he responded in his best baby voice.

“Can you make french toast and bacon? You make it better than I do,” you asked in a cute tone.

“You know I can’t say no to that voice and face. Come on, spoiled brat,” he teased as he slapped your thigh.

Yahya scooped you from the bed, dangling your body over his shoulder. His hand grabbed a handful of your behind, giving it a loud smack.

“Ouch, Yah'! That hurt,” you whined.

“I didn’t mean to smack it that hard. My bad,” he smirked, rubbing the pain away.

“Lying ass.”

Carting you off to the kitchen, he got you fed and full. Neither of you had anything planned. The two of you spent the remainder of your Sunday binging television and ordering takeout. 

When the time came for you to head out, Yahya felt his chest tighten. He was sad to see you leave. If only you two could figure out where to go from here. He’d have you sleeping in his bed every night. Little did you know, your best friend’s feelings for you had existed as long as the friendship had. He just never knew how to tell you. The chemistry and attraction lingered between the two of you. That is, until one drunken night, he did something about it. He fell back on his couch, missing you already, as his mind drifted back to that night.

You were spiraling down a black hole of heartbreak. Yahya came running to offer support and a listening ear to vent to. 

His fist balled up, jaw flexing as his memory replayed the image of you opening the door. 

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy as you did your best to keep from crying again. Yahya’s heart sank seeing how distraught you were. He stepped closer to you, and in a low baritone, he said, “Hey, mama.” The sympathy in his soothing voice sent a fresh trail of tears rolling down your cheeks. He sighed as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Yahya’s chin rested on your head as you curled into his chest, body trembling as the tears flowed. “You’re going to be straight, mama. I promise I got you,” he soothed, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He gave you a minute or two to let it all out. Releasing you, he bent back, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears. Yahya leaned forward, sweeping you up bridal style. “Let’s get you comfy on the couch. I’ll fix us some drinks and snacks. Then you can tell me everything, alright?” Giving him a faint nod, Yahya kicked the door closed. He made quick work of getting you situated on the couch. Yahya wrapped you in your comfort blanket. Gently kissing your forehead, he whispered, “Be right back, love.”

He called from the kitchen, “Are you in the mood for something light or heavy?”

“This calls for the hard shit. Bring the tequila. I don’t even need a damn chaser. Give me something that will make me forget the last twenty-four hours.”

Yahya strode back into the living room, alcohol in hand.

“What are you about to tell me, love?”

“Maybe you should take a couple of shots first.”

Yahya set the shot glasses and bottle on the coffee table. His hand ran down his face as he took a deep breath, “Am I going to have to beat his ass?”

You sat up straight, dropping the blanket around your waist. Pouring two shots, you answered, “Just promise me you won’t lose your temper.”

“No.”

“Yah', please,” you begged, voice trembling.

“The desperation in your voice tells me that I’m going to regret this, but fine, I promise not to lose my temper. What happened?”

“Drink first.”

Shots were thrown back, and you grimaced, pouring out two more. After the second, you started to pour another round, but Yahya’s hand gently grasped your wrist, “No-.”

A small whimper fell from your lips as his eyes grew. Yahya’s eyes darted from your weary ones down to your wrist. His hands were like lightning as he slid your sleeve up a bit.

“No, fuck that, mama! Is this a bruise?” 

“You promised, Yah'.”

“Promises are meant to be broken. Where the fuck is his punk ass at?”

He sprang from the couch, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Where’s he at?”

“No, please, Yahya. You promised! I handled it.”

“Why are you protecting his bitch ass? Has he been putting his hands on you this whole time?”

“I’m not protecting him. I know he’ll press charges against you. It’s not worth it. This is the only time it’s happened, honestly!”

“Don’t lie for him. Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.”

“I’m not lying, Yah'. This is the first time. I handled it, I swear. You should see the side of his face. I smacked the shit out of him.”

“Did he hit you anywhere else,” he asked, checking your face and body for more bruises.

“No, I’m telling you the truth. We were arguing about him getting caught up in his lies and cheating. I told him I was done and that he needed to get the hell out of my house. This dude had the nerve to snatch my wrist, demanding I hear him out. I told him he was hurting me. His response was he didn’t give a fuck. That pissed me off, so I slapped him. He charged at me, and I kicked him in the nuts. How do you cheat on me with a bitch I called a friend and have the nerve to be mad that I no longer wish to be with you? The audacity!”

“I pray he tries to show up while I’m here.”

“He won’t. It’s over, and he understands that now.”

Yahya looked at you, not quite believing it.

“I told his ass if he tried contacting or coming near me again that you’d beat his ass. That or he was going to have a chat with Nina.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to put hands on him. You swear your ass is tough with that baby Glock. Who the fuck puts hot pink on the butt of their gun,” he retorted.

“I don’t want you to, smart-ass, but he knows you would. It was only said to get my point across that I was done with him. Not too much on my baby, Nina.”

Yahya sighed, frustrated that he’d have to keep his promise. He reclaimed his spot on the couch, crossing his arms irritated. You kissed your teeth, “I know you're not mad at me for keeping you out of trouble?”

“It’s whatever. He needs his ass beat, though,” he sulked.

“Just leave it alone, Yah'.”

“I heard you the first time.”

The room grew quiet. It stayed that way for a little while. That was until he heard you sniffling.

“I’m not mad at you, love. I just really want to rock his shit.”

“I know you’re not mad at me. It’s just.”

“What is it, mama?”

“Am I not good enough? Dudes do me dirty, and people I call friends turn out to be grimy. You’re the only person who has always been down for me. I’m so thankful for your years of loyalty and friendship,” you rambled, tears sliding down your face.

Yahya pushed his anger aside, taking a deep breath. His hands reached for your arm, pulling you into him. His palm cradled your head, guiding you to lie against his chest. He kissed your temple, speaking words of encouragement.

“That’s just god's way of making room for the real ones to come into your life, mama. You’re going to be alright, love. You’ll shake back from this. You’re strong, girl. The right man is out there. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

As he held you, speaking enlightenment into you. Something shifted inside you. Not quite sure what the feeling was, you shook it off.

“More tequila,” you offered.

The pair of you went shot for shot. It only took a short time for you both to get drunk off your asses. In a drunken stupor, you both laughed as you recounted the numerous times you had to fake a climax with your ex. Yahya was in tears, holding his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

“This man had to be talked through eating the box. Every. Single. Time. At what point do you finally get the gist of eating pussy? I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did.”

“Why did you stay?”

“The dick was big.”

A hand flew to your mouth, covering your lips, shocked at what you had just revealed.

“Sorry. That was probably too much information. I need to stop drinking,” you slurred, no longer able to look him in the eyes.

Yahya cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Not too much. That’s some pretty useful information,” he rasped.

Your breath hitched as you looked into his chocolate orbs.

“I don’t follow.”

“That’s what you like, mama?”

Yahya’s hand trailed to your neck. His fingers circled your throat, giving a light squeeze. You knew you should pull away, but your mind and body said two different things.

“Yahya,” you whispered.

“Answer me, mama. That’s what you like?”

You moaned, nodding your head yes. Yahya licked his lips at your response. 

“I want to hear you say it, love. Tell me what you like. I want to make sure you understand what I’m trying to say,” he groaned.

The liquor urged you to take it further. You leaned closer, his hand still squeezing your throat. Lips only inches apart, Yahya watched in awe as you answered, breath tickling his lips.

“I love a big, long, thick di-.”

Before you could finish the sentence, Yahya groaned and devoured your lips. Not giving it a second thought, he slid you on top of his lap as your tongues battled for dominance. Hand still placed around your neck, you ground against his lap, loving the groan he released. 

“I can see why that was useful information now,” you purred.

It was evident, even inside his jeans, you could feel that he was massively large. You pulled back, slipping your shirt off, dropping it to the floor. His eyes sparkled at the sight of your breast as he cupped them, kissing and suckling your neck.

“Are you sure this is what you want, mama?”

“Yes, I want you, Yah'. Fuck the pain away, please.”

Kissing your lips again, he held you close as he raised from the sofa. Arms wrapped around his neck. You tasted each other's lips as Yahya carried you to the bedroom. The following morning wasn’t even awkward. That’s probably because you woke up with Yahya’s head between your thighs. A serious discussion occurred over breakfast. Though you both decided it probably shouldn’t happen again, time would reveal that it was too late to turn back.

I know I left it on yet another cliffhanger, but that's my specialty😆. I got my lovelies, though. The fic is complete, so slide on over to part two. Before you go, leave a comment and tap the love button. Reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

[sheabuttahwrites]

in the Morning

story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

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sounds// Peabo Bryson - Feel The Fire, Isley Brothers - Spend the Night (Ce Soir), The O'Jays - Forever Mine

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IV.

“Oh, shit. What’s up?” He smiled back and it was even more killer in person. Especially with the surprise of gleaming gold fangs and the matching slugs I could see peeking from behind his bottom lip. I had to remind myself to breathe. “You came.”

“I told you I was on the way.”

“Nah, I thought you was fucking with me.” Laughter took over the conversation as he opened the door a bit wider, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

Hell, I could barely believe I’d shown up myself. I had never really been shy, but he’d brought a boldness out of me that even I hadn’t seen.

When I passed him, I noticed that he was still significantly taller than me in four inch heels. Damn. Not like I wasn't overdue for a climbing lesson anyway. The scent of his cologne was also quite alluring. The woody, smoky fragrance pervaded my senses, warming all the spots that shot had missed. Of course he would smell just as good as he looked. He may not have believed I would be there tonight, but he had damn sure been prepared. 

“I can take your jacket.” 

“Oh, sure.” I went to slip it from my shoulders, but he circled behind me and took the collar into his hands. 

“Here, I got you.” 

Taken aback by his unexpected chivalry, I was stuck watching him walk back to the closet to carefully put it away. 

“This is dope. The gold on here go crazy.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. Had to have it.”

“Good choice.” He grinned as he strolled back over to me. “I like your whole get-up, though. You look good, girl.” The intensity he radiated in person was unreal. His blinding smile. Those piercing brown eyes. The once-over he gave me felt like he was sexing me up already. 

Of course, I was a flustered mess. “Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I held up my bottle for him to see. “Wine. Actually, could I put it in your fridge?”

“Yeah.” He reached for it, so I gave it to him. Then he nodded to the left. “This way.” 

We left the foyer and I followed him past a gorgeous living area, subtly admiring my surroundings. The height of the ceilings had caught my attention right away. All of it was stunning. Far from the bare walls, futon, and flat screens I had half expected. Off white walls and dark wood floors made up the most of it, but the decor was so sophisticated and refined. I’d already clocked a painting and coffee table that I wanted for myself. I could tell it had been carefully curated. I should've known he would give nothing less. We walked through an arched doorway into a kitchen that made me feel like cooking for some strange reason. Just like everything else I’d seen, it looked like something from a magazine. Shades of gray, black, white and green complemented each other well among all the satiny stainless steel. There were even fresh tulips sitting in the middle of the island. I was giving one of them a smell when he came over, leaning up against the marble counter with me. 

“I put it in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Having to look up was already doing something different for me, but the way he was smiling down at me made it so much worse. Prolonged eye contact was his thing, I’d already gathered. It felt like he was staring into my soul. Whew! “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not every day something this fine just lands on your doorstep.”

My head dropped into a faint laugh. “Baby, you ain't gotta butter me up. I’m already here.”

“I ain't tryna do nothing of the sort. I meant what I said.”

“Ok. So, you just be up in here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

I smacked my lips, less than convinced. “Yeah, aight.”

“You a trip,” he chuckled.

“Nah, you the one.”

“How?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I said, grinning as I waved him off. 

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered. “I really don’t be having company like that, though. I know it might not seem like it, but I’m usually a pretty private person. I don’t like too many people in my business.”

“So, why you breaking all your rules for me then?”

“I don’t know…” He leaned a little closer. “Just something about you.” 

I rolled my eyes through the inevitable smile that followed his and that sly admission. “You know what, I know I just gave it to you to put away, but could I pour myself a glass?”

“Oh, yeah. Fasho.” He walked back over to the freezer and pulled out my bottle. Then he went to a cabinet for a wine glass before taking an electric corkscrew from a drawer. Once the bottle was open, he stepped back, presenting it all to me with an outstretched hand. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I poured myself a big glass, just low enough to prevent any spills while I walked.

“You only brought one glass. You don't want any?” 

“Nah. I’m more of a Hennessy man, myself.”

“Aah, ok.”

“I can put it back for you, though.”

“I think I’ma just keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, this is good enough.”

“Aight.” He reclaimed his position at the island. “So, um, I feel like you breaking some of your rules for me, too.” 

“…Maybe,” I said, after finishing a big sip. 

“How you get so brave?”

I frowned. “Why you saying that like you about to chop me up and plaster me into your walls?”

“Damn, girl.” I cracked at the sudden shock that appeared on his face and we laughed so hard. “I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

“Yeah, my girl wanted me to stay home real bad. But I don't know. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance. Plus, you didn't give me serial killer vibes. Didn’t see a windowless van on the premises either, sooo…”

His smile was beaming as we shared another laugh. “You funny.”

I shrugged a shoulder, preparing for my next sip. “So I’ve been told.”

He waited for me to finish before he motioned his head toward where we had just come from. “Come on.” Then he turned to walk off, and, once again, I followed. 

“And, anyway, for all you know, I could be crazy.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Oh, I can take you.”

I gasped in false disbelief. “Excuse you. I could have weapons of mass destruction.”

“What? Like a chainsaw?” 

He glanced back at me as we neared the stairs and I busted out laughing. “Now that wasn't even me. My girl put that one in my head.”

“What she think, I’m Leatherface?”

“Shit, you never know nowadays.”

“You ‘bout right. But you can let her know you in good hands.”

“I figured as much.”

He smiled, stopping at the stairs. “After you,” he said, holding his arm out for me to step ahead of him.  

After giving him my bottle, I grabbed the glass railing with my freed hand. I made my way up the curved staircase, swaying my little bit of booty in case he was watching, and losing count of how many steps I was taking. 

“You better catch me if I fall.”

“I got you.” I laughed to myself as we finally reached the top. I waited for him to take the lead again and he came around me, settling his hand on my waist. “This way, mama.”

A floral, citrusy scent met me as soon as I stepped into his bedroom. Probably from the candles lit in various spots all around it. They also provided the light, along with two lamps on the wall framing the head of his bed. “It smells so good in here.”

“I tried to hook it up for you a lil bit.”

“I like it.” The click of my heels on his gray hardwood floors was briefly muted as I strutted onto an oversized circular rug en route to his bed. The couch was nice and spacious, but the bed was much more inviting. The comforter looked cloudlike and the corner of the sheet that was exposed looked fresh. It was huge, too. Likely out of necessity. I sat on the edge and stared over at the window wall across from me as I took a feel. It was just as comfortable as I’d presumed, maybe even more. “Why you way over there? You got—what you called me?—‘something this fine’ all in your bed, and you just gon’ stand there?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Come here then.”

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

I kicked my shoes off before sliding myself to the opposite side. “Better?”

“Much.” He came over and sat against the fluted headboard as I sat just a couple feet away from him. At that point, I took my phone from my purse and killed the power. I was not about to let anybody spoil my night. “What kind of music you like?”

“I’m an R&B junkie.”

“Ok.” He picked up his phone, plugged up on the table beside him. “Let me guess. 90’s and early 2000’s, right?”

“Duh! I love my oldies, too, though.”

“Word?”

“Yes. I spent the first fourteen years of my life almost exclusively with my grandparents. They blessed me.”

“Ok. What you know about this then?” After a couple taps, ‘Spend The Night’ by The Isley Brothers began to play. 

“Boy, what? This my shit.” 

“…You grooving your ass off, this really your shit.”

I howled, because I hadn’t even realized. Maybe it was the near-emptiness of my glass that had my shoulders and waist moving without my knowledge. 

“Anyway. So, what’s your favorite genre?”

“My music taste kinda eclectic. I like a lil bit of everything.”

“Like what?”

“Funk. Bounce. Jazz.”

“Okayyy.”

“R&B,” he continued, making sure to look me in the eye for that one. “House.”

“Ooh, I love House.”

“Yeah. But that’s just a few.”

I nodded. “Ok, next question.”

“What’s up?”

“Why you sit my bottle so far awaaaay?” I whined, staring longingly toward his dresser as I went to leave the bed. He laughed. 

“My bad. I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m just messing with you. I got it.” I walked over to fill my glass again, bobbing my head to my jam. 

“You mind if I smoke?”

“This your place, baby. You can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you my guest. And, if I’m a bad host, you might not wanna come back.”

I squinted up at him, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile, but it didn't work. The charm was just too potent. “It’s cool. Spark up.”

“Aight.” 

He leaned over and reached into his top drawer for this little box. I couldn't see inside it, but he pulled out a pre-rolled joint and I just assumed that there were more. This nigga was a stoner in the truest sense. 

The level of my glass was starting to fall again and the wine had to be going straight to my feet. Instead of returning to my seat, I opted for a cute little two-step and a couple of slow spins, quietly singing along with Mr. Biggs and Angela Winbush between sips. The song sounded better than it ever had. 

“I’m glad I chose this cut.” 

I opened my eyes to see that Yahya had changed his position, lying back on his elbows at the edge of the bed and facing me. It took all I had to keep it together. My face was on fire. “Why?”

He smacked his lips at me and took a long drag from the J. I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose. 

I returned his smile. Of course I knew. “What that shit taste like?”

“You never smoked before?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Nope. I told you I didn't smoke, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you never?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

“You wanna try it?”

I bit the inside of my lip, not really sure if I should. The scent of weed was something I usually just tolerated, but this didn’t smell too bad. Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about. “Yeah.” I shrugged it off and left my glass on a nearby table, but then it hit me that I had been drinking. “Wait. Should I be doing this with alcohol?”

“It ain’t gon’ do nothing to you.”

“But am I really supposed to mix the two?”

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

I sighed, quelling most of my concerns and taking his hand. He didn’t let me make a single step, pulling me right into his hard chest. He hurried his arm around my waist as my screaming morphed into shared laughs. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” I looked down into his eyes, resting my arms on his shoulders to help get my bearings. The laughter soon faded. Smiles went next. 

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display. 

That same breathless feeling that had hit me at my computer, smacked the shit out of me again. Just a hundred times stronger. Seeing his brand of fine this close up was devastating. Everything that looked so damn good from afar held all of its integrity and then some. The beard, the lips, the skin, the teeth. Truly immaculate.

“Youuu… are dangerous.” I capped the sentiment with a giggle, but I was not joking. 

He frowned with a telling grin in the forefront. “What? I’m harmless.” The elevation in his tone further confirmed the lies.

I pushed myself back up to my feet, flustered as fuck and almost hating how he could make me this way so effortlessly. I really had no idea I was so foldable and, though the circumstances were lovely, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Fuck that.” 

He laughed and held the joint up to my lips. “Go slow.”

I looked at it and then back to him, still slightly unsure, but I went ahead. The regret was instant. I choked, coughing up what little smoke I had brought in. And, to make matters worse, he had the nerve to be laughing while I was fighting for my life. 

“Naaah, not like that.”

I shook my hanging head. “That’s ok. I don't want to anymore,” I said, fanning myself and trying to catch my breath.

“Come on. I got you.”

I smacked my lips, looking into his half-lidded eyes with my own, and caved without an ounce of pause. Shameful. “...Ok. But, if I don't get it this time, I’m done. And don't laugh.”

“Aight, aight. I won’t laugh.”

“You better not,” I teased, rolling my eyes. 

He brought that shit up to my lips again, but, this time, he rested his free hand on my hip. I didn't pay it much mind. I was more focused on preparing myself for this second pull that was probably about to kill me.

“Go slow.”

I followed his instructions and took a relaxed drag. But I forgot to stop, and this nigga just let me keep going. My eyes popped when I realized what I had done. I stood there, cheeks puffed to the brim, not knowing what the hell to do. Again, Yahya was cracking up. I, on the other hand, started to freak out, groaning frantically and tapping at his arm.

“Just open your mouth, girl.” 

I opened up and the smoke billowed out and began to float away. 

“Now catch it. Inhale.” 

I did what I was told once again and watched as some of it disappeared back into my mouth.

“Ok, hold it… now breathe.”

I let go and, surprisingly, all of it came out without me bringing a lung up with it. “I did it!” I beamed, celebrating my first successful puff of Mary.

“Started off a lil rocky, but you finished strong.” I laughed with him, feeling too triumphant to check him for rejoicing in my struggles. “You wanna hit it again?” he asked, after taking another puff. 

I nodded. I felt like I had it down, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. If I could do it two times in a row, that meant I could really do it. Feeling myself, I even took it from his hand when he brought it over to me. 

“Oh, shit. Ok. You a pro now, huh?”

I was too tickled, but in the merriment I still noticed that he had led his newly unoccupied hand down to my other hip. He kneaded his fingers into me, getting a nice, thorough feel. Naturally, my mind began to wander, imagining all the filthy, disgusting things he could do to me with those huge hands. I looked down at him and he was already staring back. His face was the most relaxed it had been all night. He took his gaze down to where my thighs met and I would swear I heard my girl sigh. This man was so fucking sexy it was almost infuriating. I had to look away. I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass. The pungent smell of weed had possessed the air, the taste of the flower and a little wine were sweet on my tongue, and the sensual poetry of love songs gave us all the right directions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this bad. 

“How you feelin’?”

I opened my eyes, tilted my head and brought my hand up to mimic a chef’s kiss.

“See? Stick with me, I can show you some thangs.” I tucked what was left of the J between his lips and he hit it one last time before sitting it over in the ashtray. Then he pulled me closer. 

I smiled and bit my lip, gently placing my hands to his chest. When I started to back away, he smiled up at me and loosened his grip, but I could tell he didn't really want to let me go. 

“Where you goin’?”

I simply shook my head as I left his grasp. I just wanted to play around with him, make him chase me a little bit. The O’Jays were singing ‘Forever Mine’ and, somehow, I could feel it in my body. Whatever Yahya had for me, I was readyyy! I turned away and clutched the bottom of my shirt with both hands, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. Not a second later, I could see his reflection in the window standing from the bed. Off came his shirt in one swift motion as he walked, then I felt him slide up behind me. The chase was over. 

With his hands at my sides, I swayed to the hypnotizing melodies, savoring how good his bare skin felt next to mine. “I love this song.” I spoke quietly, fully entranced. My hands found their way to his, and the difference in size fucked me up even more. I was leading them around to where I needed them, when he latched onto the softness of my belly and started to move toward the window. I shuffled the short distance with him until I was standing directly in front of it. He eased his hold on me and grabbed my hand, placing it onto the glass a little above my head. I looked out over his backyard, wondering if any of his neighbors could see us. Part of me hoped someone could as he played around with the waist of my jeans, touching my skin in light whispers. He crept over to the button, undoing it, what felt to be, intentionally slow. My zipper came down at the same chilling pace. With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat. 

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?” 

I scratched the glass with his hand still on top of mine, feeling his dick right against my ass. Flames flickered in the near-darkness, but, clearly, we were the hottest in the room. He moved my panties to the side and slipped through the flood until my clit was pounding into the tips of his fingers. A shy moan had barely made it past my lips when he sank them deep. I whimpered loudly, gripping his arm and bending my other hand into a fist, buckling under the pressure.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

I didn't answer. I wasn’t even breathing. Despite me being highly inebriated, my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.” 

@19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @lemmewritesomeish @thisiswhatshefelt @teheeboo @shanisims @honestpreference @iamfredtina @blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @cecereads209 @90sisthenew80s @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 -taglist-

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Forgive Me, I Am A Sinner  {1}* {Two-Shot}

Title: Forgive Me I Am a Sinner {1}* {Two Shot} 

Someone x Reader

Words: 2.9k

Warning: Play on the church confessional, Cursing, Adult themes, Mild crude language/discussion, Mild NSFW(Toward end), Mistaken Identity

Summary: You have some things to get off your chest and end up walking into a church.

Note: So, this might be mildly taboo for some, if it is for you, don’t read, I’ll understand. While I don’t think I took it too far in someone’s eyes it could be blasphemous. Again, don’t read if you feel it may offend you. Nothing lewd but be warned. Don’t come to me with your complaints. They will fall on deaf ears and be met with a quick delete. I don’t think it’s bad but 🤷🏽‍♀️

  ***NOT EDITED/Proofread***

-You-

“Forgive me lord for I have sinned. It's been...never since my last confession. I've never done this. Yep, I'm a virgin. Well with confessions otherwise I am soooo not a virgin. The things this body has done, these eyes have seen, these hands have touched, and this mouth has had in it...yikes. Not a virgin. Oh god, I probably shouldn't have said that in a church with a priest across from me. Shit. I probably shouldn't have cursed in the house of God either. Oh, fuck."

You facepalmed then sighed already fed up with yourself. You didn’t know what was wrong with you or why your mouth was still moving and allowing words to pass through. Yes, you were nervous and most of it were nervous ramblings you’d always done but now was not the time to be censor free.

 "I'm going to hell, aren't I?”

 Silence. There weren’t even breathing sounds. Either there was no one there or the guy across from her was weighing his options speaking to an actual heathen. You leaned a litter closer to the wooden screen peppered with small holes that was separating the two booths.

 "Uh...priest guy? Padre? Father? Oh, great even God's messenger sees the heathen in me and has run for the hills to tell the lord this sheep has steered far from the flock. Definitely going to hell."

 You hung your head in disappointment.

 "For all the scripture that has been written about the heavenly trio, the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I doubt they would be so quick as to damn one of their flock."

 You could hear the humor in his voice, and it made you pause. Were priests supposed to have a sense of humor? It did sound like a biblical joke so maybe that wasn’t weird.

 "I think you are being too harsh on yourself," the voice on the other side followed up.

 "You do?"

 "Yes. Also, heathen in quite harsh."

 You giggled nervously. However, those nerves were dwindling with every joke he cracked. There was something soothing about his husky voice that sounded like he was half asleep and just awakened from a quick nap.  "That is what I feel like whenever I muster up the courage to speak to him about this."

 "Start from the beginning."

 "Are you sure it's okay for me to be telling you all this in a church nonetheless?"

 Silence. Was he actually thinking if it was okay? You circled your thumbs and waited for him to speak but when he didn’t you leaned closer again.

 "Hello?"

 “You came here because you needed help. You came here looking for answers and acceptance. You will find all 3 here. So, let's begin again. Trust me I've heard it all."

 You sighed relieved by his welcoming words. You then nodded and mustered even more courage. "Okay. Forgive me lord for I have sinned I've never confessed before.

 "What is your sin?"

 "Lust."

 The silence stretched for so long then the person on the other side of the screen cleared their throat.

 "Lust. Go on. How are you lustful?"

 His voice was even deeper than before.

 "I like sex--like I really, really like sex. I know the bible leans more on sex for procreation and marital health, but I am not married, and I have no plans for children. So, for me, sex is something that feels good, better than good, amazing especially if it is done right and the person I am with understands a woman's body and needs."

 The silence returned but only for a few moments. "Ehm, I'm listening."

 "Lately I've been feeling unfulfilled."

 "Sexually?"

 "Yes, mainly. I have a great career, amazing friends, wonderful family, and a life I love but when it comes to sex it's just not cutting it. The guy I've been seeing..."

 "Boyfriend?"

 He sounded disappointed and that made you pause. Why would he sound disappointed? You explained it away deciding that he was disappointed in it not being a husband or fiancé.

 "You mentioned you were not married just trying to get a better understanding," he clarified.

 "Oh. Not really. We see each other whenever we have an--itch."

 "For sex. Understood."

 "You sound very chill about this father."

 "I am simply here to listen and never to judge--my child. This is the house of the lord, and all are welcome to be who they are and lay down their burdens. That is the lord I represent."

 He sounded like the cool youth pastor that was written about in some YA novels. The one who would create raps for G.O.D. You stifled a laugh at the thought.

 "Wow, that's really cool. Anyway, he's very...vanilla. Whenever we meet--. Wait should I explain what vanilla is? Um...well."

 "No need," he quickly interrupted.

 "Really?"

 "Uh...I am what I am now, but I was not born a priest."

 His unexpected answer had you snort loudly before a laugh escaped you. "Well go on then fuck it up, father. Damn no, I didn't mean that."

 He heartily chuckled. "It's alright. Go on"

 "He's vanilla and never really knows what I need and rarely ever do I cum. I mean reach completion."

 "Then why are you wasting your time with someone like that?"

 "Uh...well...ummm...I am very picky with who I spend my time with. When I said that I like sex, it didn't mean I was some chick who sleeps around with anybody with the right body part."

 "Of course not. I didn't mean to imply that. I'm sorry."

 "No, it's cool."

 "For the record, I didn't think that of you anyway."

 "Okay. Thanks. It's just most guys are insensitive assholes who think if a woman likes sex and pleasure then they must be easy and DTF anyone."

 "Guys like that are the ones who should be offed and sent straight to hell."

 "Preach it, father.”

 It took some time for his words to make full impact, but after a few moments, they did. “Wait shouldn't you say they are also God's children and just need to be steered to the righteous path?"

 "You sound well versed in the priesthood."

 "Movies."

 He laughed again and it sounded so welcoming that you laughed with him.

 "Please continue. He doesn't satisfy you."

 "No. I thought I could handle it and finish myself off or something but tonight I couldn't."

 "Did you just have sex tonight?"

 "Yes. I guess that's another sin you have to forgive me for."

 "And you are unfulfilled."

 "Yes. So unfulfilled. My bullet couldn't even take care of this, not even my rabbit, hell not even the usual porn I watch."

 The silence across the way was deafening and you noticed. It was like you’d become hypersensitive to quietness since sitting in this booth. Suddenly he groaned as if in pain.

 "Are you okay father?"

 He groaned again then took a few breaths. Through the tiny holes in the screen, you could only make out a head turned down, everything else was shadows. "Completely.”

 It came out hoarse, strangled. “Ehm...continue.”

 "Uh, so I facetimed him and decided to tell him what I need and even some things I would be into, and he laughed and had the most freaked out look on his face. He said it wasn't normal and I shouldn't tell anyone about it again. Like he made me feel crazy and so--dirty."

 "Uh-huh. For better context. What are these preferences--my child?"

 You twiddled your thumbs then uncrossed your ankles only to cross them again. "I don't know if I should say them now. You might say the same thing."

 "No. I would never. Remember I said my place is not to judge and I am here to help?"

 You took a deep breath and tried to calm those nerves that were beginning to creep up again. After another breath you began.

 "I um...I told him I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I told him I wanted to try doing it while others watched that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

 The silence this time was so heavy so filled with the charge of excitement and arousal. You didn't know why you were slightly turned on finally getting it all out, especially to a priest in a church of all places. Hell, you didn't even know why you had come in here in the first place. The idea of confessional had always creeped you out for some reason. Telling a stranger your secret sin. It felt so vulnerable.

 "Shit. Surely I should burst into flames for all that right? First in line on the locomotive to hell? I shouldn't have said all that."

 "Are you ashamed of these desires? Do you wish to be rid of them?"

 "He made me feel ashamed."

 "Fuck him. Are you ashamed?"

 "Father?"

 "Answer me.”

 His voice was serious, and authoritative now. “Look inside yourself and answer truthfully."

 You did as he said and took some time and truly listened to yourself and everything that was going off inside you right now. Among everything, the uncertainty, the excitement, and the confusion nowhere inside of her did you feel ashamed. Not at all.

 "No. I'm not ashamed."

 "Do you wish to be rid of them?"

 "No," you replied with a little more confidence.

 "Good. You should be unapologetically you. You should not allow others to make you feel small or shameful for who you are, what you want, or what you deserve. You deserve all of that. You deserve to be sexually fulfilled and happy in all avenues of your life. We all only have one to live and restricting ourselves from true happiness is not doing service to someone, it does a disservice to ourselves."

 You sat there thinking over his words and gained confidence from each of them. He sounded as if he spoke from experience.

 "Is this your first day as a priest? I don't think you should tell parishioners to sin more to live a fulfilled life if you truly want to gain access to heaven."

 He snorted. "It is my first day doing this, but I stand by my words."

 You sat there noting your nerves had melted away and your confused state had turned to one of mellowness. You didn’t feel in a war with yourself anymore. Perhaps this was why others did this.

 "Do you feel better?"

 "Yes."

 "Good, then my work is done."

 "Wait shouldn't you give me instructions to repent like a Hail Mary or ten or something?"

 "Will it ensure you do not sin again?"

 Snorting, you replied, "Probably not."

 "Then you are free to step out of here and live your life with one piece of advice."

 "What's that?"

 "Drop that pathetic loser you're seeing. You can do so much better little lamb."

 The doors on the other side opened but you didn't register it until nearly a minute had passed. When you stepped out and looked in the opposite booth from sheer curiosity, it was empty with no priest inside.

 "Little lamb? What kind of priest was that?"

  ~~~~~~~

 -Him-

4 hours later and he was still solid as a brick hard.

 "Fuck!”

 He palmed himself yet again then squeezed hoping to relieve some of the ache there but no luck and no relief. He shoved his hand under his head and stared up through the glass roof of his skylight at the night sky. It was clear without a cloud in sight allowing the stars to really shine.

 "I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars."

 His cock throbbed so forcefully it could be seen through his now too tight pajama bottoms. Glancing down, he groaned exasperatedly.

 "Come on. It’s not funny anymore."

 He knew he shouldn’t have gone into that confessional. He knew he should have found somewhere else to wait for his manager as he spoke with the priest of the church he was donating a large amount of money to because of his connection to some of the kids he'd encountered the weekend before.

 He'd gone at that time because he was sure it would be empty and there would be no stray photos of him leaked. Donating money was no fun when everyone knew you'd done it. He liked the incognito life. He just wanted somewhere that had zero chance of him bumping into someone. No way did he expect someone to drop into the other side of the confessional and no way did he expect that someone to have that kind of confession.

 He closed his eyes as he recalled the little slivers of her face. Plum painted lips that looked full, a cute nose, skin that looked incredibly soft, and eyes that called to him. From the small perforations in the wood, he would classify you as a fucking goddess.

 Once you began your confession he should have interrupted and set the record straight but there was something about your voice that held him in place, silencing him. He’d picked up the distress in it, the frustration and uncertainty. Then the more he listened he fell under some spell. When she mentioned her definite non virgin status, he was way past curious. Maybe that’s what possessed him to answer her when she asked if he was there.

 "Curiosity," he muttered mulling over it.

 He thought over your entire confession and within seconds his cock throbbed again. Without even realizing it his hand had drifted into his pajama bottoms and was now wrapped around his engorged length.

 "Fuck!"

 "I want to be tied up while he takes all control and completely ruins me. I wanted to try doing it while others watched, that him being so gentle is a turn-off and I wouldn't mind some teeth or nail marks on me. I can see myself being into BDSM and get turned on by dominance and submission. I want to be choked a little while he slams so hard into me that I see stars. I want to be weak in the knees unable to walk, sore throat can't talk, eyes full of tears, chin covered in slobber, delirious with pleasure until I squirt and then pass out to do it again. I want him to know my body and what it needs better than I do. I want dirty, nasty, rough, hot passionate sex I'll never forget."

 "Uggh. Uggh. Uggh. Fuuuuuck."

 His hand moved so fast he was sure it was going faster than the speed of light. It had to have been. His groans, moans and grunts filled the space as he raced toward a finish he imagined would go across her beautiful face or her breasts he couldn’t see but was convinced were equally as gorgeous as her aura. Within seconds, his back angled off the bed as if whatever had possessed him earlier was finally exiting his body and being pulled into the air.

 "Holy fuck!”

 The white spots that decorated his vision made it impossible to see anything and in that moment he didn’t care. He was only focused on the amazing feelings coursing through him. When he finally regained some motion and sense he glanced down and found stream after stream of his release decorating his chest, pelvis, and pajama bottoms.

 "Ah shit. Come on! Haven't had to jerk myself off since I was twenty fucking years old, and one confessional tipped me over the edge? Unfuckinbelievable!”

 Not in a rush to get up and filled with frustration, he looked back to his skylight at the glittering stars and thought of the side profile of her face. Within seconds, he felt himself harden again and it was then he knew his cock was not done. He was in for a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[megamindsecretlair]

Welcome! So glad you decided to join us!

This is interesting and not a dynamic im used to. Excited to see more!

18 Years: A Yahya Abdul-Mateen II Story

@megamindsecretlair @ghostfacekill-monger @henneseyhoe @bakarilennox @sheabuttahwrites @wawakanda-btch @uzumaki-rebellion @starcrossedxwriter @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cecereads209 @soufcakmistress @essaysbyciara @thegifstories @consent-is-king @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @l-auteuse @chaneajoyyy

You all don't know me, but I am familiar with your writings and everything that you do for the Black Girl Fanfiction community on here. I've been reading your works for some time now, and in 2024, I told myself I would try new things. I used to be a writer when I was growing up. I don't know why I am inspired to get into this now.

This is literally a first draft. I started it while I was at work today and finished it tonight. It has the makings of a series. I definitely envision at least two more, much larger parts.

This story is NSFW and Minors shouldn't read. It will definitely be smuttier.

work count: 2,235

I would really appreciate some feedback. Thank you in advance.

Characters:

Naomi (37) Yahya (38)

Kae: Your Face Here (36)

PART ONE

PRESENT DAY

"I didn't expect this to happen, but honestly, I shouldn't be surprised. There have been a few near-misses, but for the most part, I've been lucky that there hasn't been any cross-over. Until tonight." I know I sound dismissive and unaffected. My Aquarius sun loves to show her unevolved self at the worst times. 

The windows are open, along with the French doors that lead to the back deck of my house. It is one of those late-spring evenings that turns into rain. I had anticipated rain. I can smell it on the breeze that blows through the doors.

A montage flashes through my mind. Naomi and I, tangled in Egyptian cotton, candlelight illuminating our bodies, while the rain pours outside my open windows. My fingertips wrinkled from Naomi's essence.Her honey, still in the corners of my mouth. She runs her tongue along my neck, then coos in my ear,  wrapping her arms around me to fondle my breasts.

"So how do you do this? Do you have me and her on a schedule? When I clock out and leave town, does she clock in?! I go into your bedroom to put my luggage down, her overnight bag is unzipped and something lacy is hanging out, Kae what the fuck! Did you even have time to change the sheets?"

The sound of his anger brings me back to the present. He isn’t angry, he’s hurt. He feels unchosen. Up until this point, they knew of each other in theory, but they had never been together. They were both in my home at this very moment. Both of my lovers stand on opposite sides of the dining room, while the long oval table is cluttered with the remains of the successful dinner that I had my board of directors and staff over for. Naomi was at this dinner, but not because I was introducing her as my lover, but because she is a lawyer that we have been cultivating for the board. Naomi and I, we have an expiration date. She has a husband and we have an...arrangement. The time I spend with her isn't as straightforward as what I do with Yahya. I see Naomi more frequently, but the intimacy I share with Yahya, I can never have with Naomi. Yahya gives me his time. Her husband comes first. She could never openly claim me. I'm not sure if I would even want her to.

"Yah, you weren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be on a flight to L.A. You know what this is. You know what it has been. I don't lie to you. I don't lie to either one of you. I never have." I can feel myself getting flustered. Sensing my unease, Naomi takes a step further into the room, closer to the table. She looks at Yahya expectantly. I watch him run his eyes over her face, lingering at her mouth. I wonder what he's thinking. I know what he's thinking. Naomi is beautiful, with a perfect pouty set of lips and wide eyes. She's taller than me, at 5'9, she would look good in heels next to Yahya.

"Okay. Let's take it down a notch or two. Yahya, it is nice to meet you. I was hoping it would be under better circumstances. My name is Naomi." Naomi extends her hand across the table to shake Yahya's hand. He stares at her, then looks back at me. He scoffs, and walks over to my bar and pours a strong measure of my expensive cognac. This man is too fine to be rude and Naomi is not the kind of woman that is used to being ignored. This could end badly.

Both of my lovers are beautiful, but only one will force me to choose between them. One of my lovers is reticent . The other won't rest until I declare who wins my heart. I was never supposed to be a battleground for this. I just don't ever know what I want sometimes.

2006

When Yahya and I met, I was 18 years old, spending spring break 2006 building houses in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. Yah was turning 20 that summer, and had come home to New Orleans to help rebuild. He was an architecture student, so he felt he could be useful, and was doing an internship with Habitat for Humanity. I remember laying eyes on him and thinking he was the finest man I had ever seen. He was tall as hell, brown skinned, with a deep voice that I felt would make a very lucky woman's bones quake. I was assigned to the neighborhood he was overseeing for demolition. I decided then that wherever he was, I needed to be someone else.

I was staying with Lynna and Cassie Beaudremont, sisters that I had been friends with for some time. I met Lynna when I was 15, visiting family in Louisiana. She was two years older than me and she made me feel seen. Lynna had a secret too, in that she preferred women to men. In fact, she wasn't interested in men at all. I didn't know what I wanted. I was 15 and boy-crazy in the way that teenage girls that are too smart for their own good are boy-crazy with nothing to do. I just wanted my life to begin now, but no clue what that meant. I spent all my free time with my nose in fiction too grown for me. My inner pitcher was full of Morrison, Baldwin, and Angelou. Words that matched feelings I hadn't experienced yet. I was interested in women too, but I wouldn't explore that for a while, so that summer I plied Lynna with stolen liquor, holding my breath while I listened to her describe what it felt like to kiss a girl. By this point, I had let an older boy I dated finger me in his car, but I couldn't understand why it made me feel empty.

Standing outside, shielding our eyes from the sun, Lynna and I gave each other big eyes when Yahya walked up to get our demolition team organized. He gave a kind of unifying speech that was supposed to galvanize us to do our best work. All I could think about was how his arms looked in his Habitat for Humanity polo. He was so tall, and his smile was blinding. I wanted to smell him when he was sweaty. He was fine in an intangible way, and was so fucking friendly, helpful, and kind that you couldn't help but like him.

I would see him again later that summer, when I came through New Orleans on a road trip that turned into a proper dalliance. That summer, I met his mom and his sisters. We became close, me, him, and his family. Especially when it was found out that his mom and Lynna's mom were old friends from high school, who had lost touch when Yahya's family moved to Oakland. That summer, Yahya and I flirted at the epic barbecues that the Beaudremont's would throw, that would shut down the whole ward. We got caught in the rain. I would sneak out and we would drive to that seemingly unnamed honkytonk place and eat mountains of catfish and drink beer. That summer he drove an old, beat up pickup truck and I remember the way he would throw his arm around the back of the seat when he wasn't shifting gears, and tickle my shoulder. We had been friendly in April, but he gave me distance when he learned I was still in high school. Despite that initial yet completely understandable awkwardness, Yahya’s friendliness grew and before the summer was over, his arm was draped around me instead of the seat. 

The first time he kissed me, we were sitting at an intersection at night, waiting for the streetcar to pass. He leaned over, put his arm around me and his other hand on my thigh and kissed me. It felt like forever and not long enough. His lips covered mine, I swear I tasted him before he touched me. I let out a moan when our lips touched and he took advantage, immediately giving me tongue that had me wanting to fuck him in the truck, the way I did my high school boyfriend, in the abandoned train tunnel not far from my grandma’s house. He sucked on my bottom lip while running his fingers up my neck, with the lightest touch. I felt my entire core clench. The car behind us beeped the horn and flashed the headlights.We jumped apart, sharing a laugh. The heat in my cheeks burned and Yahya hooked his left hand under my knee and pulled me across the seat, closer to him. I cozied up,  put my head on his chest, and listened to his heart race as fast as mine was. 

PRESENT DAY

I glance over at Naomi as she drops her hand to the tabletop. Yahya turns around, glass in hand and looks at us both. I feel hot, trapped in my own damn house. This is messy. This might be the second messiest thing I allowed my pussy to get me into. I am a fool for love, don’t get me wrong, but this is not my best work. I sigh deeply, grab the nearest serving platter and walk into the kitchen. Romantic confrontation be damned, I was not going to end the night dumped twice with a dirty kitchen. I could load the dishwasher while Yahya breaks up with me. I might have to schedule a Taskrabbit tomorrow to clean the rest but we could cross that bridge tomorrow. 

To my surprise, both Naomi and Yahya follow me into the kitchen with dishes in their hands. We enter into a weird domestic truce, each of us working in tandem to get my kitchen and dining room back to rights. They both stack dishes on the counter, which I scrape and load into the dishwasher. Naomi straightens the dining room, wiping the table, and using the Dyson on the floor, then following it with the Swiffer Wetjet. Yahya washes my pots and pans, and puts away the unused serving platters that he had used his delicious height to take down this morning before he left for the gym. After a while, Naomi comes back into the kitchen and pulls a bottle of pinot grigio out of my wine fridge and Yahya hands her two glasses from the cabinet above my farmhouse sink. Tucking the glasses between her fingers, she grabs the bottle with her left hand, and walks back through the dining room, toward my family room. Both Yahya and I follow her, I grab the mechanical wine opener as we pass the bar, and Yahya grabs his drink and the bottle of cognac. We settle down, Naomi and I sit on the couch, wise enough to put space between us. Yahya sits in the recliner and swivels to face us, his long legs manspread.

“What happened?” My voice wavers. I feel like I’m watching this happen from outside of myself. 

“The director and both assistant directors have COVID. Production has been delayed another three weeks. I don’t have to be in L.A. for another week. I called you and texted you multiple times. I know Cassie did too, because I called her when you didn’t answer.”

“I don’t know where my phone is.” Both Naomi and Yahya shake their heads, sharing a glance and wry smiles. I lose my phones multiple times a day, every day. Cassie is my assistant, and a big part of her day is just keeping up with my phones. 

“It didn’t occur to me that you would be entertaining…a guest. I was just here. I didn’t expect such a quick turn around in your bed Kae.”  Naomi laughs again and shakes her head. I feel her annoyance and I almost reach out to touch her, but when I look up, Yahya is staring right at me, daring me to show her affection in front of him. Instead, I grab the bottle of wine and slide the wine opener over the top. I press the button on the side of the electric wine open and the corkscrew pushes into the cork, whirling until I feel a slight pull. The cork is out of the bottle. I pour Naomi’s glass first, then my own. I take a deep sip and look across the room toward the built-in bookshelf on my wall. The wooden box on the middle shelf is my weed box and I mentally roll the joint that would make this entire episode bearable. Yahya has skipped the passive and has decided to lead with the aggressive. 

“Is she why you don’t want to fuck me?” Naomi starts. She shifts, suddenly. 

“Kae, I am going to head out. I think you and him have a lot you should discuss, without me.”

“No Naomi, I think you should stay so you both can tell me what it is you do for each other that would make Kae not bounce on the dick she’s been waiting 18 years to get?” Yahya's voice rumbles. Outside, thunder booms. The rain starts, the force of the drops, a growing sound. In this moment, I’ve never wanted him more. 

[itsbackwoodsbby]

O M W

Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black Fem Reader

A/N: I say this is a sequel to ICU. Soooo if you haven't read ICU...go read it, mamas.

Warning: Smut! Public Sex (Balcony Sex)! Oral Sex! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: As soon as you knew Yahya was done with the gym, you texted him that you needed that dick. He gets ready and gives you exactly what you want.

Inspo: O M W by Tonio Hall

As soon as Yahya walks out of the gym, his phone rings. He knows it’s you because you have a special ringtone. He looks at his phone and sees your explicit messages. Your smooth bare body, laying in the bed touching your body, lowering down to your pussy. He chuckles and replies, “So, you miss me?” He teases you. Your replies send him as you beg him to come over to your house and fuck you senselessly and how you need his dick badly. He puts his stuff in his car and gets in. He replies, “Okay, let me shower. I’ll be there.”

He starts driving. Though he doesn’t need the hype to fuck, he puts his sex playlist on. The first song that comes on is O M W by Tonio Hall. It gets caught in his head, so he puts it on repeat. His mind is filled with how wet your pussy is now as you impatiently way for him, the many dirty things he wants to do to you, and how he was going to break that pretty little pussy of yours.

He gets out of his car and goes inside his house. He put his gym bag in his gym room. He smiles as that special ringtone goes off again. He looks at your messages, rushing him to come to your house, telling him how impatient you are. He texts you and tells you he’s getting the shower. He spends a few minutes in the shower, thinking about all the surfaces to fuck you on. The couches, the counter, against the wall, and on your balcony so the city can see how crazy you are for this man’s dick. 

“Coming, running to you whenever you say.”

He sings along as he wraps the towel around his waist. He dries off and gets dressed in something light. He puts a hoodie on and some basketball shorts. He places his beanie on and puts his hood on as well. He walks out and his phone chimes that same ringtone, “Yahya where are you?” He texts back, “I am on my way, mamas. I just got in the car.”

He starts driving to your house. The red lights are pissing him off. It is hard not to break the law and keep going. As he waits for the red light to turn green, he thinks about eating your pussy, letting your juices drip down his beard. Then picking you up, laying you down on the counter, placing your legs on his shoulders, and fucking you senselessly like you asked him to do. A car honks the horn bringing Yahya out of his thoughts. The light is green and now Yahya is only a few blocks away from your place. 

As he parks in the parking garage, the phone chimes again and it’s you. “Baby, hurry up. I can’t wait any more.” He smiles and replies, “I am here. I am getting in the elevator now.” He gets in the elevator and leans on the wall. The door opens and he walks to your door being semi-already opened. 

He comes in and sees you lying on the couch, naked. He closes the door behind him, takes his hoodie off, and starts kissing your neck, making you even wetter. He kisses you down your body and he starts kissing and sucking on your thighs. You grip his head as he sucks on your clit. His left hand creeps up on your body to your neck and he squeezes it a bit. With his other hand, he’s fingering your pussy. You cry out as the pleasure is too much already as he pumps two fingers in and out at a fast speed still flicking his tongue on your clit. Yahya looks at you. He rubs your clit as he starts talking you through your climax.

“Come on, mamas. Let that pussy come for me.” He rubs your clit faster. “Yahya, Yahya…” You call his name out in whine. His eyes fill with more lust as your lower half jerks up. “I am coming, baby. I am coming!” You shout out. He smiles at you as you release, moaning a sweet tune. He takes you to your balcony. You look at him eagerly. “Yahya, are you forreal?” You squeal. Balcony sex has always been on your list and you get to do it with the person you love. “Yes, let’s do it.” He gives you a cheeky smirk.

He lowers his basketball shorts and you get on your knees. He holds your hair as you start bobbing your head down his shaft. He grunts as your hand starts to massage his balls. Your other hand strokes his dick as you suck him. You look up at him with a sultry look. He bites his lips in return and grabs the back of your head tightly. Suddenly, he is fucking your throat. Your eyes water up and he wipes your tears and smiles at you. His dick begins to throb and twitch in your mouth. You smile and go faster. He holds your head close to his stomach and he cums in your mouth. You swallow his cum and he holds you there until he can get the feeling back in his body. You are a little winded, but you stand up and look at him. Just in a matter of seconds, he regains his energy. 

He bends you over the rail and rubs his tip against your clit before he fills your pussy up with his dick. You sharply inhale and exhale slowly. He automatically starts pounding inside you. You try not to be loud since you’re outside, so you close your mouth to reduce sound. Yahya grips a handful of your hair, pulls you back, and lowly whispers in your ear, “Let the city hear you, baby girl.” He lets your hair go and you fall back on the rails. “Yahya, fuck, fuck! Don’t stop please baby don’t stop.” You cry out. Hot tears running down your face. Yahya’s hands travel up to your boobs and he fondles with them. The city lights begin to blur as he starts hitting your spot. You whine and grab his stomach, but he pins your arm behind you, “You said senselessly. Imma give you what you asked for.” He buries his dick deeper inside you.

Your body is filled with so much ecstasy. You are shouting at the top of your lungs about how Yahya’s dick is the best and how good he feels fucking you. “That’s right. Tell them how you love this dick.” He grunts. “I love this dick, baby. Fuck I love this dick.” You moan out as you clench tightly around his dick. “You going come on this dick?’ Yahya asks you in a husky voice. Yes, yes!” You shout. “I am going to come on your dick.” You start trembling and your body jerks up as you release on his dick. He slows down for a bit for you to slowly relax your body and hang on the rail. He doesn’t give you much time as he resumes pounding deeper inside you. 

You feel him in your stomach and you feel your body start feeling like jelly. Your legs start to buckle and you grip tighter to the rail. He holds your hip and picks his pace. Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you keep blinking your eyes, trying to say conscious. Yahya starts twitching inside you. “Where you want this nut, mamas?” He asks you. You don’t answer, so he slams into you in between words. “I said, Where… Do… You.. Want… This Nut… Mamas? Inside you?” Your lips quiver more as you moan, “Yes, yes Daddy. Fill me up.” His last slam, he comes inside you. His dick twitches into you for a bit before he stumbles back. You fall to the ground and try to gain consciousness and your breath. Yahya leans on the wall and it takes a while to regain his energy back. 

You tell Yahya you’re done, but he shrugs. What did that mean for you? You were getting fucked into the morning. Yahya made his dirty thoughts into a reality. He fucks you on the counter. He fucks you against the wall. He fucks you in the shower. He fucks you on all surfaces in your apartment. After you got pounded into the headboard, you finally collapsed and you are out for the count. He smiles and smacks your ass, proud that he accomplished his mission.

[henneseyhoe]

My Big Three As Boyfriends|

Trevante♡

You wanna have the perfect balance of a country boy and a city boy rolled into one? He’s the man for you!

His love feels like coming into a warm house after shoveling snow.

The first time you two ever kissed, my lady by Tyrese played in the background and since then ‘my lady’ with a brown heart has been your contact name.

He’ll sing any song you ask him to even though his ass can barely hold a tune in all seriousness.

Uncovering your ears, you start laughing. “Yes, sounds just like how Tyrese sung it” He smiles and takes a bow.

You try not to be the clingiest since he loves his space sometimes, but he definitely has his moments where he needs you near him like some kind of support teddy.

Hates when you all up on him when it’s time to sleep but always ends up damn near on top of you by the morning.

“Move, Bae, it’s hot” he groans. 8 hours later. “Tre…Trevante…baby, you crushin’ me!” You huff, trying to push his arm and leg off of you so you could go pee.

He’ll blame you as if your little ass can move him from one side of the bed to the other.

Expect booty slaps every time you walk by, and don’t let him be upset with you prior, cause it’ll be harder this time.

“Tight ass shorts” he’d say as you walked around the house as free as you wanted in the Nike shorts HE bought you.

Often play fighting and roughhousing until he accidentally hits you too hard and has to be soft with you for the rest of the day.

“Awwnnn, cmere, I didn’t think it was gonna land that hard” he holds you as you pout, rubbing your now sore arm. “That actually hurt, Tre. Like seriously 🥺”

He makes fun of the Erotic books you read, but you caught him peaking over your shoulder once and following along with one of your favorite stories.

“Don’t get too hype, I peeped something and the shit was interesting!”

Has a habit of putting his hand up your shirt when you two are cuddling.

He hates when you leave for work because he works mornings and you work nights. Sometimes on his day offs(though a bad idea) he’d stay up at night and bother you on the phone all throughout your work, dropping hints that you needed to come home on your snack break for a real meal.

-you’d brush him off and sneak off to the bathroom, sending him a titty pic to hold him off till you got home.

-‘oh wow. I just might take a trip instead actually’

-He’s definitely already taken trips up there a few times to get you right, as he should.

Michael♡

A REAL certified loverboy

If you told him to jump, he’d ask how high.

He would never admit it but he is CLINGY. He wants to be with you and all up under you as soon as those paparazzi cameras turn off.

Also certified double texter.

‘babe’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘Y/N’ ‘babe’

‘don’t act like you don’t see these texts’

‘WHAT boy’

‘I miss you’ ‘wyd my love’

‘working. Something you should be busy doin’

‘I finished already’

‘Fast reader you are. Here’s a gold star⭐️’

‘What can I say? You’re engaged to a smart man’

‘Engaged?’

Boo🩷 has unsent a message.

‘Forget you read that till further notice’

The man can’t hold water, as you can see. Which is why you don’t tell him anything that’s meant to be a secret.

He literally can’t sleep without your leg thrown over him some kind of way.

He remembers all the cute little shit you like year around so he already has a laid out plan of gifts for Birthdays, Valentines, and Christmas.

A good bit of his camera roll is just you and screenshots of things he wants to keep tabs of.

Can’t organize for shit and that’s exactly why his phone storage is about to explode

Begged you to organize his work stuff, so you agreed, until you saw NOTHING was put where it’s supposed to go.

“how do you work like this?!”

“I honestly don’t know…I- I do not know” he responds, staring at the unorganized files.

“Your assistant doesn’t take care of this stuff?”

“I don’t like to bother her like that”

“Nigga, she’s an assistant, she’s supposed to be bothered!”

Thursdays were self care days for you two. Wether you were just sitting around and watching a movie or doing actual things to improve the body, it was still self care to y’all.

Both of you are foodies, but he’s more adventurous, so he always tries to get you to try new foods when out together.

“would you ever try live squid?” He asks, looking through the menu the restaurant provided for them. “Uhh..I dunno. I don’t think I’d like it, but I’d probably try. Just have to ignore the memory of that story of that man who ate a live squid and it killed him and crawled back up his throat” he stares at you for a moment then looks back down at his menu. “Never mind then…”

Soooo protective of you and thinks you don’t stand up for yourself enough so he always makes sure you’re heard in any and all conversations.

Takes any chance to show you off. Was it cause he genuinely loved you or was it cause he liked showing niggas what they’ll never have? Both actually.

“Oh, and y’all know my girl, right? My beautiful, wonderful girlfriend” he grabs you by the hand, and kisses the top of it, pulling your attention away from your drink. You smile and look away, feeling extra appreciated.

Gentlemen in the streets, freak nasty in the sheets.

You ever came so hard that it took a few seconds for your vision to come back? Yeah.

Yahya♡

The dynamic between the both of you is just very unserious. He is truly your bestfriend who also happens to be your boyfriend

It’s hard to get anything done when the both of you are constantly cracking jokes back and forth, a con of having the same job.

“Yahya, please, my stomach hurts!” you spoke in between laughs, tears prickling the both of y’all’s eyes as you tried to make it through a SINGULAR business email. “How the fuck do you misspell so much shit on a business email?!” He howled, wiping tears from his face and slouching in his seat, you still crying.

He blames you for when he doesn’t get much work done, but he knows damn well it’s his fault for being the goofy mf he is.

When you two were just friends, your mutual friends would tease him by calling him “boy Y/N” because you both had so much in common.

He’s your reminder to eat like a normal person

“What’d you eat today?” Yahya questions, reading over his weekly to-do list. You glare at him then look back at your computer, not answering because you didn’t wanna hear his mouth about you forgetting to eat. Sighing, he gets up and heads into the kitchen to make you something quick.

At first the relationship felt like you two were still just friends, but you both grew into being a little more intimate with each other.

You both can’t help but create small(but healthy) competitions. You were both a little more competitive than you’d like to admit, but you both had competitions so often that basically everyone you guys hung out with knew of them.

“Damn” You sigh as you watched your paper ball miss the trash basket. “Hm” Yahya hums and gets up, picking the paper ball up. Instead of throwing it away right then, he went back to his seat that was a bit farther back and took a shot, the paper effortlessly making it in the basket. You look back at him with a squint and he smirks. “Okay, bet” you whisper.

Ten minutes had gone by and you both were throwing balled up paper that you needed in the trash. To make what point? Neither of you knew, but you both were entertained.

Theres a box in his closet with Polaroid pictures of you two throughout the five years of dating each other, most taken by Yahya himself because in his words, “I just love looking at you. Pictures don’t even capture all that I see, but damn, baby”

The man could easily make you melt like some chocolate. He was just as smooth as he was when you first met him.

Once you both got more into the relationship, he was honestly the most romantic and caring person ever. He’d do anything to make you feel those butterflies.

Sent you on a corny little riddle game for Valentine’s Day once which lead you to some of your favorite places around the city until the last clue brought you home to three bouquets of your favorite flowers and a ring the size of your brown eyes.

Alexa, play whatever you want by Tony! Toni! Toné!

Some niggas don’t trick, but Yahya? Oh he’s gonna step. In the end, if you’re happy, he’s happy.

The night ended with something else a little more eventful that had the neighbors thinking to call the cops for the third time that month.

He plans on staying with you for the rest of his life, and made that know.

And he’s determined to put a baby in you one of these days, with or without that damn ring.

✮✮✮✮

Looks and bias aside, who would y’all pick as a boyfriend? 🫣 I think I’d pick Yahya 😭

[makavelitheedon]

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You've just stumbled across the blog of a thug ass gangsta’ bitch named 𝒎͟𝒂͟𝒌͟𝒂͟𝒗͟𝒆͟𝒍͟𝒊͟ who loves to read and write. Welcome in, and feel free to stay awhile, motherfucka'.

This writeblr will mainly consist of faceclaims and original characters that are people of color. Forewarning, most, if not all, of my content will be for mature audiences only. Minors, please do not interact.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ masterlist | in the works | muses

[megamindsecretlair]

Like What I See

Pairing: Big Stunna x Baby Girl!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Soft Black reader.

Summary: Stunna is dealing with a lot in regards to the business. He sends you off to have a relaxing day shopping and pampering yourself. But when you get home, Stunna can't resist you.

Word Count: 2,856k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. I've been FERAAAAALLLL. So I needed to bang this out. This is as close as I get to a drabble. Toss a coin to your writer by leaving a comment or reblog!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @00aijia00 @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui @multiversefanfics @tvchi

You could not wait to get home. You stared down at your freshly painted pink nails. The soft, pale color went well with your beautiful brown skin and looking at them only made you feel prettier. Doubly so because your man chose the color for you today.

Typically, your man didn’t like you driving yourself around but he had a lot of business to take care of. He handed you a stack of cash and told you to pamper yourself today. And you nearly spent every last bit of it. 

First, you stopped by your favorite beauty store and grabbed your favorite bubble bath, some candles, and some lotion. Then, you made it to the makeup store, grabbing things you did not need but absolutely wanted. Lip shine, mascara, whatever your little heart came across just because you could. Lastly, you went to the spa and got one of the best massages of your life.

You had nearly fallen asleep on the table as the masseuse worked out lingering kinks and knots into your plump skin. You had gotten the works. A facial, foot rub, nails and feet done, and some quiet time in the sauna. You were mighty relaxed and now, all you wanted to do was see your baby.

You pulled onto your quiet street, the houses as nondescript as possible. Stunna didn’t want to flaunt his wealth that much. He preferred to flaunt it in other ways. Helping out in the neighborhood, taking care of those in his employ, or simply treating you. You loved that he wasn’t a braggart. Or thought the world owed him something just because. 

When you pulled into the driveway, you frowned a bit. He was usually at the door for you, pulling it open before you even had a chance to stop the car. You got out and locked the door, leaving your bags in the back because you knew Stunna will carry it inside for you.

Once inside, the sweet aroma of fresh apples wafted through the air. It was just an air freshener, but this was one of the best things you loved about coming home. That it felt like a home, small as your family may be. It was just you and Stunna for now and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But where was he? With all the nonsense going on in his little feud with Malcolm, you had to contend with Stunna’s diverted attention. You hated it. You didn’t want to impose, but enough was fucking enough. 

“Baby?” You called out. Your heels clicked on the runner in the foyer as you walked down the hallway in search of your husband. He wasn’t in the kitchen where he usually was or on the couch watching his games. 

You took out your phone. There were no missed calls from him. There was just the text from him telling you to drive safely when you told him that you were on your way home. This just wasn’t like him. 

You sighed. So much for being excited. You had wanted to show off your nails and gush about your day. You wanted to show off your sinfully short black skirt and white button up shirt. The sleeves billowed slightly and gave you a slightly artsy look. Paired with your heels, it was a little dressy, a little cutesy, and you loved it. 

You went upstairs, a little miffed that your outfit went to waste. The bedroom door was closed so you opened it, ready to call Stunna’s phone and see where the hell he ran off to. As the door fully opened, you were grabbed from behind with a loud yell.

You screamed, arms stretching out wide to hang onto the doorframe and prevent your attacker from pushing you inside. Raucous laughter filled the doorframe as your husband, Stunna, kissed your cheek. 

Your heart was beating so fast, it took you two tries to yell out, “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “You didn’t see me on the couch and I wondered what you’d do.” 

You tried to twist out of his grasp, lowering your hands to his so that you could forcibly remove him. He didn’t budge. He held you tighter about the waist, planting soft kisses along your neck and cheek.

“Forgive me?” He mumbled in between kisses. 

“I ain’t hear no apology,” you said and sucked your teeth. Meanie. You crossed your arms because you already knew that he wasn’t going to let you go until he got what he wanted. 

“I am so, very, completely, passionately sorry,” he said in between kissing your neck, cheek, and jaw. “I won’t do anything like that again.”

You sighed. You could feel the pout in his words. “Fine, I guess I forgive you,” you said, losing the bulk of your anger. You were more scared than anything else and now that your heartbeat resembled something close to normal, there wasn’t anything left to be mad about. 

“Hm, let me see,” he said. He finally released you and you turned in his arms to look up into his gorgeous face. It felt like it had been longer than just a few hours since you’ve seen him. Like every second expanded into hours the longer you were away from him. 

You looked him over. He wore a black T-shirt and matching black sweats on his long frame. A gold chain lay around his neck and he smiled, showing off a set of gold canines. He perused you in much the same manner, taking the moment to appreciate each other and the moment. 

He smiled, so you smiled in response. He took both of your hands in his and looked at your nails. “Hm, lookin’ so pretty,” he said. He kissed the backs of both hands and then took in the rest of your outfit. 

“This what you wore outside?” He asked.

You nodded. You stepped away and did a little spin for him. “You like?” You asked.

“I love,” he said, his voice getting deeper. Lower. Your eyes flicked to his and saw the raw hunger in his eyes. He looked from your heels, to your thick thighs, all the way up to the top of your head. 

“Matter of fact, you look good enough to eat,” he said. “Get yo ass on that bed.” 

The back of your thighs tingled instantly from the sheer power of his voice. Dangerous, dangerous man. Your mouth opened into a pretty little ‘O’ as you gaped at him. “Can I freshen up first?” 

“You heard me. Bed,” he said. He stood stock still, still framed by the doorway that his head nearly brushed the top of. He rubbed his small beard, looking at you as if he wanted to rip your clothes off. 

You began to walk backwards towards the bed, keeping your eye on him with a small smile. His mouth quirked to the side, watching your shenanigans. Yes, you were complying, but in your own way, dammit. A small bit of payback for scaring you. 

When you got to the bed, you sat down, tossing your phone onto the nightstand. The bed was a Grand Turk Plush mattress, so soft and plush that you sank down onto it. It wasn’t the greatest for the wild lovemaking you two did, but it was heaven on both of your backs so you’d take it. 

Stunna finally moved from the doorway, stalking towards you. When he got in front of you, you had to lean back just to continue looking in his eyes. He was that damn tall. 

You gently rubbed your thighs together, already needing a bit of friction. Nothing escaped Stunna. He smirked at you. “Open,” he said. 

Slowly, you shifted on the bed to open your legs and accommodate him in between. He sank to his knees, shoulders pressing your legs out further. Then, he reached under your skirt for your panties, drawing them down your legs. 

Your breathing turned heavy. Everything about this man just ramped up your horniness. And it wasn’t always his sex appeal. It was just him. Kind, loving, and an absolute gangster out in the streets. You’ve seen him get medieval nasty when it came to his business and the good Lord help you, but you loved it. 

Free of your panties, Stunna pushed your skirt up and around your hips. He sucked in an appreciative gasp, eyes getting bigger. 

“Please, don’t tease me right now,” you said. You couldn’t stand it. You needed him feral. Softness right now would absolutely crush you.

“”How you need me, then, baby?” He asked. 

“More. I need more. Break me in half,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled. “As my lady commands,” he said. His hands jerked out fast, grabbing the back of your knees and pulling you forward on the bed. You squealed at the unexpected roughhousing. 

Wasting no time, his lips latched onto your clit and began sucking like his life depended on it. With his gold canines and the dim room, you almost felt like you were getting devoured by a vampire. It only turned you on. 

You throbbed in his mouth and he moaned, pushing your legs on top of his shoulders. You were pretty sure your heels were digging into his back but he made no indication that it bothered him. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” you moaned. “Yes, yes, yes!” Your nails flew to his head, lighting scratching at his scalp and holding him closer. Fuck, you felt so good. You grinded on his tongue. Each swipe of his tongue pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

If you could pay this man to eat you out for hours on end, you absolutely would. After a few years of marriage, you found that there were still things to try with him. Still new positions or a bit of role playing to introduce. Things to ask for. That would have to be one of them. See how long you could give oral before the person climaxed.

Stunna removed his mouth and you whined. His mouth was quickly replaced with his fingers. You were so slippery and wet, that it almost didn’t feel different to not have his mouth there. You continued to twist and writhe on the bed, body tensing as you got closer.

“I been dealing with shit all day, but I’ve been dreaming about tasting you,” he said.

You huffed a laugh. “You ate me out this morning,” you said. 

“Fuck that mean?” He asked. To emphasize his point, he dipped two fingers inside of you. Once his fingers were coated in your essence, he pumped them faster and harder, shaking his palm against your clit. Your toes curled in your heels. Your thighs strained around his shoulders. 

Your breathing turned ragged. Your hand flailed, looking for a place to grab on to. But he was too far out of reach. Stunna only watched you struggle and squirm, not giving you the anchor you were seeking. 

“Even at my angriest today, I just pictured this. You absolutely undone on my fingers,” he said. His voice grew quieter as if allowing room for your climax to get louder. Your whimpers and whines turned to keening cries as your back bowed and you finally came. You gushed onto his fingers.

Stunna continued to finger fuck you, encouraging the sounds you were making. “Music,” he said.

“So, so mean,” you panted as you shivered from such an intense orgasm. 

“You wanna see me get really mean?” He asked.

He didn’t wait for you to respond. He stood up abruptly, dropping your legs to the edge of the bed. He stood up to his full height and then grabbed your legs once more, pulling you until your ass half hung off of the bed.

“I’m gonna fall!” You screamed.

“I ain’t never gon’ let something happen to you,” he promised. He hooked your legs around his waist and then he pushed his sweats down low enough to free his thick, fat dick. 

You may have moaned. You may have drooled. Whatever it is that you did, made Stunna chuckle as he tapped his dick against your wet pussy. It made delicious wet smacking sounds and you moaned from the impact and from the filthiness of it. 

He swirled his tip through your folds, coating his dick in your essence. He looked at you, right in the eye. “I just want you to know that I love you,” he said.

You tilted your head at him, wondering what he meant by that. Then, he slammed home in one hard thrust. It was so quick, you were feeling so full, that your mouth dropped open but no sound came out. 

Stunna didn’t care. He began to pound away inside you like a man possessed. As if your pussy held the fountain of youth. Or was the lost city of Atlantis. You could hardly breathe as he rammed his fat dick inside of you, over and over. He found a steady, punishing pace that made you see stars.

You could only look up at the popcorn ceiling as he rammed inside. “Breathe baby,” Stunna grunted. “Breathe or I’ll stop.” 

You nodded, still not trusting your lungs. But you also didn’t want him to stop. So you forced air into your lungs, taking heaping big breaths to get your mind acting right again. “Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cried. Tears gathered in your eyes. 

Only him. Only your husband. Only this man made all others pale in comparison. The world could go to hell at the moment and you’d still only have eyes and love for this man. 

Your hands clawed at his shirt as he drooped forward, planting a wet kiss on your forehead. His necklace swung powerfully with his thrusts. His gold canines flashed as he tilted his head up a bit to give you a quick glance over. 

He moaned low and deep in his chest. Never breaking stride, he lifted off of you and then began to unbutton your shirt with one hand. The other pressed into the mattress against your side to keep his balance.

“Put them hands on me,” he commanded. You obliged by wrapping your hand around the arm beside you and the other on his shoulder. He groaned as your hands found his skin. 

“Fuck, feeling so good. Baby. Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. You were so close again. So soon. It was too much. Your head flopped from side to side. Trying to stay in the game but knowing that your ass needed to tap out. 

The hand on his shoulder tried to push him, to ease him up, to slow him down. But he persisted. “Just remember, I love you,” he said again. He smirked as you groaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He freed enough of your buttons to push the shirt apart and show him your white bra. He hooked a finger down the center and pulled far enough to free your titties from the cups. Pushed under your titties, the bra made your titties stand out. 

He grinned as if he’d found the prize at the bottom of a cereal box. He leaned forward again, bringing his lips to your sensitive nipples.

Once he latched on, your body began to jerk and twitch out of your control. Fuck, that felt amazing. Pleasure rippled through your body like waves, as you screamed and cried his name. 

“Yes, baby, let them neighbors know my name,” he grunted. He pumped a few more times, tongue laving at your chest as he finally moaned one last time and spilled inside of you.

His cum was scalding and shot out in spurts, bathing your insides. You cried as he continued moving as if his body was no longer his to control. 

You both panted as he half collapsed on top of you. He looked up at you and you couldn’t help giggling with him.

“What the hell got into you?” You asked when you finally trusted your voice. 

“Everything about you, my love. Everything,” he said. 

He climbed further onto the bed, not leaving from inside of you as he dropped the full weight of himself on top of you. You laughed under the weight of him. 

“You get on my nerves!” You giggled, struggling for breath underneath him. 

Stunna chuckled and then finally rolled over. He brought you with him until you were the one laying on top of him. His hands gripped your waist, pushing your skirt further up so that it could flutter naturally around his waist. 

“I wanna feel you bounce on this dick. I got some more loads for you,” he said. He thrusted his hips, making you bounce on him as if he were an unruly pony. You laughed and laughed, sides starting to hurt.

“More loads for me, huh?” You asked. 

“Hell yeah. I need to fill you up so I can watch it slide out,” he said with a saucy wink.

You rolled your eyes but nothing was stopping you from getting what he promised.

The end.

More Big Stunna here we goo: The Secret Big Stunna Files

[miyuhpapayuh]

one.

Wandering around the indoor greenhouse, littered with different variants of flowers, Zora stops in front of the Japanese camellias.

“Wow... absolutely beautiful.” She admires them, before picking up a wrapped bunch and bringing them to her nose.

“Hm. No scent. Interesting.” She places them in her basket, continuing to move about.

Little did she know, she’d caught the eye of a man. A fine one at that, and he was on the move.

Sliding up beside her at a respectful distance, he clears his throat quietly before speaking.

“Excuse me,” he starts as she whips her head in his direction, looking at him over her glasses, very pleased with what she was looking up at.

“Yes?” The depth in her voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Wow, I forgot how to speak for a second there,” he says, making her laugh and subtly adjust her glasses, getting a better look at his handsome face.

“You’re absolutely stunning. Floated through here like an angel.”

“Aren’t you a smooth talker,”

“Just stating the facts, beautiful.”

“Smooth talker got a name?” She asks.

“Leon.” He holds his hand out for her to shake and she obliges, pleased with his firm grip.

“Zora.”

Her hands were smooth like cocoa butter, his formal grip on her lingering for a second longer.

“Nice to meet you, Leon.” She says, smirking once their hands finally detached.

“Pleasure's all mine, miss Zora.”

He flashes her a smile that takes her breath away, and inevitably makes her return the gesture.

Gathering herself, she looks down at the lavender flowers in his hand and back up at his handsome face.

“Aster, how pretty.”

His brow raises, making her smirk return.

“You like these too?”

“Yeah, they're actually one of my favorites!,” she laughs. 

“Who else has such good taste, if you don't mind me asking.”

“My mama sends me down here almost every other week for these and petunias,” he answers.

“Aw, how sweet is that.”

“I love my mama,” he cheeses, “what about you?”

“Oh, I just came to see if they'd taken my advice about rotating out some bunches for the season, and I lucked out with these!” She exclaims, pointing to the camellias in front of her.

“What kind are these?”

“Japanese camellias. Aren't they beautiful?”

He smiles, glancing between her and the flowers.

“Absolutely.”

She meets his gaze again, blushing behind her purple frames.

“I hope you don't have a girlfriend, the way you keep lookin’ at me. Cause I'd hate to break the news to ��er.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head.

“Of course not! I'm as single as they come.”

“Mm, so you say.”

“I look like trouble?”

“With a big ol red bow on ya, mmhm.” She teases, earning another laugh.

“Damn, that hurts.”

“Oh, you'll live!” She laughs, looking back toward all the pretty colors the flower comes in.

“Get the pink ones, you keep eyein’ them.”

Refraining from gazing back up at him, she clutches a pink and purple bunch in hand.

“Alright, I think I'm done here.”

“Would it be cheesy if I asked for your number?” He asks, and she's right back to gazing at him.

“Cheddar,” she burns, with a smile and holds her hand out.

He hands the device over, watching her tap across the screen and hand it back.

“If you call too late, I won't answer.”

“No worries, beautiful.”

She hums a laugh as they head towards the register to check out.

He offers to walk her to her car since the sun is beginning to set, and she obliges, lingering a moment to catch the dip in his walk.

“Since you declined my offer to buy your flowers, how about a date instead?” He asks, once they get to her pretty yellow bug of a Volkswagen. Her prized possession.

She smiles before she can stop herself, already giving him his answer but he was patient in hearing it from her.

“Okay,” she answers, getting to see that award winning smile again.

“Maybe you're a good time outside the flower shop, too.”

He's not the only smooth one.

“That's guaranteed.”

“Good to know,” she unlocks her door, “goodnight, Leon.”

“Goodnight, Zora.”

I hope y'all enjoy!

Ch 2

@thegifstories @twistedcharismaaa @cecereads209 @nayaxwrites @blackerthings @blackpinup22 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @soufcakmistress @sheabuttahwrites @blowmymbackout @mauvecherie-writes @unfriendlyblkhotti3 @abeautifulmindexposed @awerkofart @neewrites @essaysbyciara

[berberriescorner]

Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part Two)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part Two) 4800+.

Inspired By:

The sound of his phone snapped Yahya out of the flashback. A smile crept across his face as he swiped to answer.

“Ain’t been gone but a minute. You missing daddy already, love?”

“You’re so annoying. I was calling to let you know I made it home safely.”

“Thank you, love. I wished you could’ve stayed one more night,” his tone was affectionate and sensual.

Yahya always made his words sound both rugged and soft with you. It was both erotic and sinfully sweet, causing butterflies to flutter inside you.

“You still there, mama?”

You cleared your throat, trying to hide that his voice was affecting you. Changing the subject, you continued, “There’s a kickback Friday. It’s at my sis’ house. You're coming, right?”

He smiled to himself, knowing he made you feel some type of way. In a raspy voice, he asked, “That depends. Are you staying the night afterward?”

“I’ll meet you at your house later in the night.”

“Why not just arrive and leave with me? Nobody’s going to suspect anything.”

“I would, but she invited Michael. He’s asked me to ride with him.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Are you mad? I can call back and make up an excuse.”

“That’s okay, love,” he answered in a curt tone.

“Doesn’t sound like it-.”

“I’m good. Listen, I got a few things to handle. I’ll hit you back later.”

Yahya ended the call, not giving you a chance to respond.

This shit ends Friday. I know just how to make him go ghost. I’m done playing games with this woman.

He scrolled through his contacts, tapping the name he was searching for. The phone trilled twice before he heard the familiar voice. Making small talk, Yahya waited for the perfect moment to put his plan in motion.

“Hey, Jerrika. How’s it going?

“Oh, yeah? That’s wassup. Listen, I was wondering. Do you have plans for Friday night?”

“Perfect. Be ready by eight. I want you to ride to this kickback with me.”

Yahya made more small talk, and she told him what she had been up to lately. As he listened, a twinge of guilt pulsed through his chest. His mind was riddled with second thoughts. Using her this way made him feel a bit guilty. He wanted to be truthful with Jerrika. Interrupting her mid-sentence, he explained his intentions for Friday night's kickback. To his surprise, she appreciated his honesty. Jerrika wasn’t shocked-they had known each other awhile. She had an inkling Yahya was attracted to his best friend. Not only was she aware of his feelings. Jerrika offered to help out in any way she could. Yahya spent a few more moments on the phone discussing the plan.

Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. Thoughts racing through his head, he contemplated whether his plan would help or hurt things. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Yahya’s phone dinged right as he started to nod off. Groaning, he snatched it from the nightstand. You had texted, “Not you hanging up on me mid-sentence. Goodnight to you too, mean ass.” Truthfully, he felt like a dick for abruptly ending the call. Also, for what he was about to pull Friday night. It felt like his only option that would give you the push needed. He quickly texted you back, “I’m sorry, mama. I promise to hit you first thing in the morning. Goodnight, love.”

Friday had come around much quicker than you anticipated. Your sis had hit you up early that morning. She begged for you to arrive several hours early to help set up. Being a helpful and dependable best friend, the request was granted. However, twenty minutes after your arrival, you started to regret it. 

The two of you hadn’t seen each other for a while. You were greeted with a lecture about not making time for girl's night lately. According to the crew, you had been neglecting your homegirls and spending too much time with your sneaky link. Defending yourself, you brought up the numerous times they brushed you aside for their new flavor of the month. To which they did not argue and immediately forgave you.

Believing you were off the hook, your best friend put you on the spot again. She grinned at you mischievously, “We cracked the case, sis.”

With a confused expression, you responded, “What the hell are you going on about?”

“Bitch, don’t play stupid.”

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about, sis.”

“We figured out who sneaky link is,” she smirked at you. “It’s about time you two dumbasses got together.”

You started to deny it, “What are you talking about-.”

“We know you and Yahya have been fucking around. Which one of your horny asses gave in first?”

You busied yourself with setting up the bar as you ignored her question. Snatching the liquor bottles and setting them down, your best friend crossed her arms, waiting for you to confess. Her foot tapped against the floor as the rest of your friends cocked their heads to the side. Rolling your eyes at the group of nosey ass women, you asked, “What makes you all think it’s Yahya?”

Each woman smirked at you until your best friend piped up, “If you're going to keep it low-key, don’t make a sound in your sexcapades while recording. Also, make sure your friends don’t know or follow him on social media.” 

Fucking Yahya and his pornographic IG story.

“Oh, it wasn’t just his mini-sex vid. I kick it with his homie. That little pic you posted? Yahya canceled plans with them that night. Naturally, he came to dick me down when plans fell through. I mentioned the pic, and we put two and two together.”

“Whatever, nosey ass Heffa. It’s not even that deep. We fuck around occasionally,” you snarked, rolling your neck.

“On occasion, my ass. You’ve been getting dicked down on the regular. None of us make it a habit to sleep with multiple people. Therefore that is a consistent dick down, and you know it.”

“Who else knows about us?”

“Pretty much anyone who knows what you sound like when you moan. Given that we were all roommates at one time, we, unfortunately, know what that shit sounds like. Your ass never could keep it down. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with us,” she smirked.

“You bitches get on my nerves. I’m going home to finish getting ready.”

“Don’t leave mad, best friend! We’re honestly happy you two came to your senses. Finally locked his fine ass down.”

“One, I’m not mad. Two, he’s not my man. We fuck. That’s it.”

Your friends gave each other a knowing look, irritating you further. You snatched your keys from the Louis Vuitton handbag. “I gotta go for real. I need to be ready by the time Michael picks me up.” A multitude of gasps sounded in the room. Rolling your eyes, you braced yourself for more unwanted opinions.

“Does Yah’ know you’re rolling with Mike tonight?”

“Yes,” you answered exhaustedly.

“And he’s okay with that?”

“What part of that’s not my man do you all not understand? Besides, Michael and I are just friends. Yahya knows that. He doesn’t believe it, but that’s not my problem.”

Is that a little petty? Maybe, but I don’t want Michael, honestly. We’re just friends.  If he expects more, he’s in for a rude awakening. It’s not like Yah’s not out here, entertaining bitches. I’m not falling for the bullshit with any more men. Best friend or not, men lie all the time…okay maybe that’s not fair. I need to work on trusting men again. On second thought, no, fuck that shit. Single is the best way to be. No games. No lies. No cheating. No heartbreak. I just need that superb dick and toe-curling head.

The sound of fingers snapping in your face pulled you from your thoughts.

“You not even listening to us. Girl, stop lying to yourself and give that man a chance. Yahya’s not like your past relationships. He cares for you.”

“It always starts that way. I’m good with being what we are.”

Before she could continue to chastise you for being scared, you dipped out.

The evening was already turning sour. Sitting on your best friend's couch, you watched as Michael made small talk with a mutual friend. His eyes scanned the room, landing on you as he bit his lip, giving you a seductive smile. One of your girls nudged you, “ I saw that face you made when he looked away. Are you two into it? Or are you still mad that we got all in your business earlier? 

“I’m fine,” you lied.

She looked at you, not believing a word you said. It wasn’t just the man that had accompanied you to the party. Though that was where most of your frustration came from, you were also irritated that Yahya hadn’t shown up yet. His text throughout the week had been short and sweet. You were starting to feel like he was avoiding you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? Or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Sighing loudly, you started, “While I didn’t appreciate being interrogated earlier, that isn’t my issue.”

“Bitch! Just tell me why you have a stank-ass attitude,” she teased.

“I would if your rude ass would stop interrupting me,” you shot back. “I think I pissed Yah’ off. We had a conversation Sunday night. I mentioned the kickback, and he offered to come and leave together. He started acting weird when I told him Michael had already asked me to ride with him. I don’t understand why he’s angry. I told Yahya we’re just friends. That I’d slide through afterward.”

“Your green ass. It doesn’t matter what you say. Though you’re not interested, I’m sure Yah’ knows Mike wants to knock you down…real bad.”

“Trust me, that’s abundantly clear now. Michael’s not getting one ounce of this pussy. He’s about to find that shit out real quick. This ninja kept trying to rub my thighs on the ride over here. I had to cross my damn legs just to get him off me.”

Just as your friend was about to respond, she gasped. You nearly caught whiplash, turning to stare in the same direction.

“What’s wrong with your dramatic ass-.”

Glancing toward the entrance, you saw the person you’d been searching for all evening. The fact that he wasn’t alone sent a tiny sliver of jealousy through your body. Shaking it off, you rationalize internally, “Chill, sis. That’s not your man. That could be just a friend.” It did very little to tamp down the mild bout of jealousy.

You will not be petty and use Mike to make him angry. That thought was stomped out as his guest turned, and you got a look at who she was. This is why I’m single. Friend my ass. You chuckled bitterly as Yahya and his company made their way over to you. Are they holding hands? Oh, okay. Bet it the fuck up! Don’t give him a reaction.  They’re all the same.  Fine ass. Lyin’ ass ninja. Yahya greeted you and your friend as you gave him an expressionless stare. Introductions were short and sweet, excusing yourself after. Though he had irritated you, Michael called you over at the right time. You could feel Yahya’s eyes boring into your back as you crossed the room.

Being bold and not taking the hint from earlier, he slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you closer. As he attempted to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, you made eye contact with Yahya. You watched as his jaw ticked, and he draped his arm around Jerrika, pulling her closer to his side. Her hand slid down from his chest and rested on the abs you had traced with your tongue just last weekend. Yahya watched as your eyes narrowed at the gesture and smirked at you. His face fell as he watched Michael kiss your cheek. The look of disappointment was enough for you to step away from Michael. “I have to go check on the bar, be right back.” It was enough to keep him from questioning why you removed yourself from him.

Quickly glancing over the bar, you made a beeline for the kitchen. All you wanted was time to pull it together and gather your thoughts. Yahya, however, had other plans. He stood at the kitchen entrance, fixing you with an angry stare. Crossing your arms, you returned his glare.

“What,” you spat, rolling your eyes.

Yahya’s head leaned back, “You and your boyfriend looking real cozy out there.”

You laughed bitterly, “Says the one that’s here with the woman that he claims he’s no longer fucking. Is that not what you told me last weekend, friend? The audacity to have the very bitch you say you don’t want all in my face.”

“I didn’t lie. I’m no longer sleeping with her. You came with a friend. I figured I could bring one as well.”

“Difference is I haven’t had sexual relations with my friend. Can you say the same,” you questioned.

“Whatever, man. You’re tripping.”

“Be honest with me, Yah’. Are you still sleeping with Jerrika?”

“I just watched that thirsty ass dude damn near suck on your neck, and you’re seriously sitting here questioning my loyalty? You keep accusing me of shit. It’s making me wonder if that’s due to a guilty conscience. Why trip? We’re not together, remember?”

“That’s what this about? A fucking title? How many times do I have to say it, Yahya? I don’t fucking want-.”

Your sentence came to a halt as Jerrika stepped into the kitchen.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but could you show me where the bathroom is?”

Feeling slightly guilty for stealing Yahya’s attention, you offered, “This my sis’ house. I’ll show you.”

Jerrika winked at Yahya and turned to follow you out of the kitchen. That looks like a disaster waiting to happen. He wondered if it was wise to leave you and his date unattended. Just as he was about to go and check on the two of you, Michael entered the room.

“Ay, bro. Where’s your sis at,” he asked, referring to you.

Through clenched teeth, Yahya answered, “More like a best friend. I know things about her that siblings wouldn’t share,” he smirked at the expression on Michael’s face. “She’s showing Jerrika where the bathroom is. They’ll be back shortly.”

“You make a good point. Maybe you could give me some advice on her. Maybe put in a good word for me?”

The look that crossed Michael’s face made Yahya feel uneasy. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice,  not wanting anyone to hear.

“You saw that picture she posted of whoever it was between her thighs?”

Yahya chuckled knowingly, “Oh yeah. I saw that post. She seemed to enjoy herself that night,” he smiled at Michael’s cluelessness.

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re her best friend. Put me on, bro. I’m trying to take her thick ass down.”

“She posted up with another dude, and you’re still trying to slide? I don’t think she gets down like that.”

“If I manage to steal his shortie, that’s his problem,” Michael boasted.

“So you think my friend bounces from dude to dude? Watch your mouth, little nigga. You don’t know her like that to be making assumptions,” Yahya barked, approaching Michael aggressively.

“Chill, bro. No disrespect-.”

You and Jerrika had entered the kitchen as things had started to get heated between Michael and Yahya. Trading a knowing glance with your best friend's date, the both of you got in between the two of them.

“What’s going on? Calm down,” you soothed Yahya as you unknowingly rubbed his arm. Jerrika tugged Michael backward as well. Not wanting to ruin your evening, Yahya lied, “We’re just having a debate about sports. You know how passionate I can get, love.”

He didn’t want to spend another minute in Michael’s presence. Turning to Jerrika, Yahya placed a hand on her back. 

“Let’s go get you that drink you asked for earlier.”

As they walked past Michael, he leaned in, mumbling something.

“Good luck trying to fill her man’s shoes. Bro pretty much got her locked down. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

You watched as he guided her to the bar, hand placed above her ass. There goes that damn jealousy. Get it together, bitch. It’s just a sneaky link. Michael interrupted your thoughts yet again. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s rejoin the party.” His hand cupped your side as he guided you toward the music. The song changed, and Michael wrapped his arms around your waist.

“This my shit,” he groaned in your ear.

He pulled you closer, singing the words against your neck. The irritation for this man grew stronger with every unwanted advance he gave. 

His thirsty ass is getting on my damn nerves. I’m deleting this man from everything as soon as I get to Yah’s. If I’m even still invited. That’s right. I still want the dick. Thirsty hoes be damned. 

Michael's hand groped your thighs as he pressed up against you. You started to push his hands away and check him but felt fingers wrap around your wrist. With one strong tug, your steps fumbled behind a very pissed-off Yahya. Your mind hadn’t fully finished processing what was happening. It wasn’t until after he yanked you into a guest bathroom, closing and locking the door, that you started to catch on. Yahya pressed you against the door as his hand circled your throat. Wild eyes bore into yours as his chest heaved. He took a few moments to inhale and exhale.

“I don’t give a fuck what we are. He’s done touching you from this point on,” he said in a low and gravelly voice.

“Yah-.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. Whatever the fuck you two got going on. It’s done.”

“Last I checked, you’re not my father, and I barely listen to him anyway. Worry about what the hell you got going on with Jamaica.”

“You know that’s not her name,” he smirked.

“Whatever that hoe’s name is. Worry about what she got going on. Not me.”

“Your stubborn ass. You know damn well I brought that girl just to piss you off. It’s clear that it worked.”

“I’m not the one that got jealous and snatched you up like a rag doll.”

“Fine. I have no issue admitting I’m jealous. I want you, mama. All to myself.”

“You have me, Yah’. I told you I don’t want him, and I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Let me be clear. I want you, all of you. Give me a chance, mama. I’m not all those other men that fumbled your pretty ass. Tell me that’s not what you want. Look me in my eyes and say it.”

“What’s wrong with the way things are?”

“What the fuck are you scared of? You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you don’t want the same. If that’s the case, you wouldn’t be salty over Jerrika.”

Yahya was right, but you kept letting your fear of another heartbreak cloud your judgment. You attempted to deflect.

“We’re being rude to our guests. Let’s go back to the party and finish this discussion later.”

“No, that shit’s out the window. You’re not going back out there so he can feel all on you. I told him you were dealing with someone. I even wished him good luck at trying to steal you for himself. It looks like I have to let him know what the fuck is up.”

“What does that even mean-.”

His hand circled your neck again. Pushing you back against the door, Yahya’s mouth clashed with yours hungrily. There was no sense in fighting it. Your body had been yearning for his attention all night. You felt him bend forward into the kiss, his hands reaching to hoist you up. Thick thighs locked around his waist as he ground against you. The back of your head fell against the door whimpering as Yahya’s lips trailed from your neck to the top of your breast. His tongue made contact with your skin, teeth nipping at the exposed flesh.

He groaned against your soft skin, “You wear this sexy little dress for me? Or your boyfriend?”

“Fuck you, Yah’,” you moaned.

“Oh, I plan to, baby.”

Yahya continued to lick and suck at the tops of your breast as his free hand snaked underneath the hem of your dress. A guttural groan vibrated against the bathroom walls as he felt your bare, wet, silky flesh.

“You’ve been hanging around with that dumbass with no fucking panties on,” he growled.

“Yes, but I didn’t do this for him. At the last minute, I made up my mind that I wanted to leave with you. I did this for you, baby.”

“That’s what the fuck I thought.”

The most erotic moan fell from your lips as two fingers dove into your slick heat. You started to ride his fingers, crying out, “Yes! Baby.” 

Yahya sucked, nibbled, and groaned against your throat. “That’s it, mama. Let them hear you. I know you can be louder than that.” 

His fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of your dripping folds. The feeling became too much as your core started to tighten. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his digits. 

“That’s it, love. Let go. Come all over Daddy’s fingers.” He pushed deep enough, tapping your spot.

 “Oh, f-fuck. Yahya!”

Still pumping his long digits slowly, he watched you ride out your high. He whispered sweet praise into your ear, “That’s a good girl. You did good, baby.”

Slowly sliding his fingers from inside you, he licked his fingers clean. You watched in awe as your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He smirked, knowing your freaky ass wanted a taste. Cupping your chin, Yahya pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your tongues wrestled for control as your hands undid his belt. Yahya pulled back, smiling, “Here?”

“I can’t wait until we get home. I want you now.”

He watched you unbutton and unzip his jeans, using both hands to push his pants and underwear down. Yahya scrunched your dress around your waist as he lined up with your entrance. He slid the tip in, pausing afterward. Your eyes narrowed, “stop fucking teasing me.”

“I’ll give you this dick now, but you better not hold back. Your better scream my fucking name like you do when we’re alone. Let that little bitch out there know who owns this pussy.”

You gave him a frantic nod thrusting your hips, trying to slide lower onto his throbbing member. A whine echoed as he slapped your thigh, “I’m running this shit, brat.” Your mouth opened to respond sarcastically, but Yahya slammed inside you, leaving you breathless.

“Thought that would shut your ass up,” he growled.

Yahya thrust deeper and deeper, causing your eyes to roll back. He angled you to where his pulsing rod tapped against that special little sponge. Your heels dug against him, and your nails scratched at his back. You skyrocketed toward a release, crying out his name repetitively.

“Yahya, yes! Yahya, please! Daddy,” you screamed, shaking violently.

He slowed his strokes long enough to bring you back down again. Pushing at his shoulder, you signaled that you wanted down. Yahya assumed you couldn’t take anymore and placed you on your feet. He held onto your waist to help you regain composure. Once you were stable, he reached for his zipper, but you stopped him.

“Wait, baby.”

Yahya looked puzzled. That was until your hands pressed into his chest, shoving him against the door. Dropping to your knees, he started to understand what you meant. Your glossy lips brushed against the tip of his thick member. His breath hitched as you licked around it. Your hands rested on his thighs as you took every inch down your throat.

Yahya’s groan reverberated throughout the room, “Got damn. Fuck, just like that, mama.” You hummed around his dick, forcing another growl from him. No longer able to control himself, Yahya gave in to his animalistic needs. His hands dug into your hair as Yahya pistoned against the back of your throat. The more you gagged around him, the closer he came to a release. One hand trailed from his thigh down to cup his balls. Massaging them, Yahya fucked your throat faster.

“Fuck, mama. I’m about to bust.”

Knowing how to send him over the edge, you hummed around his length. His hips stuttered a few times as he called out your name, sending his release down your throat. He plucked you from the floor, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Get dressed. I’m taking your fine ass home,” he demanded, smacking your behind.

Thankful for your richly melanated skin, you could hide a blush as the two of you rejoined the group. It was evident that everyone had heard the two of you. Your friends looked at you with knowing looks. Even Jerrika was smirking at the pair of you. The only person who seemed to be bothered was, of course, Michael. Not knowing what to say, Yahya stepped in, announcing your goodbyes. He dragged you toward a smiling Jerrika.

“I’m good, Yahya. I can catch a ride with someone or Uber. You wore that poor woman out in a packed party. Take your lady home.”

“Wait, you know about us,” you questioned his date.

“Sorry boo, I was in on this whole, make her jealous scheme,” she giggled.

“I should be mad at you two, but it did give me the push I needed. I guess he’s my man now, or whatever.”

“Took your ass long enough.”

“Not too much on me. I got trust issues. You know that.”

Yahya pulled you into his side as you made your exit. Unable to help himself, he made a stop on the way out.

“Alright now, be easy, bro. Don’t worry about driving her home tonight. Daddy got her,” he smiled cockily at the pissed look on Michael’s face.

“Don’t be upset, bro. I told you, baby girl had a man.”

“That’s cool. I’m not really into hoes anyway.”

The room went eerily silent. You tugged at Yahya’s hand, begging him to ignore him.

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Yah’. Just come with me, please. He’s not worth it.”

You had almost convinced him to turn the other cheek, but Michael added fuel to the fire.

“That’s right. Listen to your loose ass bitch.”

Acting quickly, you stepped between the two men.

“I got this, Yahya.”

He was aware that you were a little spitfire. Curiosity got the best of him, so he obliged, stepping back to let you handle your shit like a grown-ass woman. Spinning on your heels, you tilted your head back to look Michael in the eyes.

“You thought you ate with that, huh?”

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. Proud of calling a woman out her name not once but twice. Stepping closer, your voice filled with venom.

“Stop pretending in front of all these folks, Mike. I was never giving a weak-ass man such as yourself a chance. I don’t know why your pride is so hurt. I’ve told you several times that this wasn’t going beyond friendship. What? You send me dick pics, and you think I’m trying to take that shit for a ride? What good is all that penis if you don’t know how to work it? That’s right, boo. The ladies have been talking. The word around town is your stroke game’s weak as fuck. I wouldn’t even let you get a lick, let alone fuck you.”

He sat there embarrassed and stunned by what you revealed to the room. Trying to save face, he made one last attempt to bring you down.

“Nobody checking for that fat ass bitch anyway.”

His hand slipped from your grasp before you could stop him. Yahya stomped over to Michael, sending one hard blow to his face. With just one punch, he knocked him out cold. Making his way back to you, Yahya grabbed your hand, kissing it.

“It had to happen, mama. My mouth will make it up to you when we get home," he pecked your lips, tugging you out the door, to his vehicle.

Yahya leaned in, breath fanning against your neck. His hand reached across your lap, clasping you into the seatbelt. Yahya playfully bit your jaw, grazing your breast as he pulled away. As he started to close your door, he rasped, "You might want to take a nap on the way home. I'm about to have you wrapped around me all night. In more ways than one."

I honestly don't know where all this came from. My imagination just ran with it and made a movie😂. Hopefully, you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it💕. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. Enjoy the rest of your day, lovelies!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

[killslumflower]

Due to the allegations against johnathan majors I will no longer be including him in any of my fics, lights off! Lead male role will now be between yahya Abdul-mateen, John boyega

And I’m very willing to take you guys requests because at this moment I can’t think of all the heartthrobs in our community!

Preferably a darkskinned male :) please drop your suggestions I planned to have part one out tonight, but it may come tomorrow so I can get you guys suggestions in

This blog as mentioned in my requests is NOT a safe place for abusers of any kind, as a survivor of sexual abuse and a witness too domestic violence of my loved ones through out my life I will never write for anyone even being suspected. I REFUSE. I stand with the survivors 100% until anything is proven otherwise.

If anyone is personally dealing with this currently, this is a safe place for you please reach out to me anytime you feel you need support! And utilize all resources below ❤️

[miyuhpapayuh]

The back and forth between him and Naomi had me edged!!! He wasn't playing and she wasn't playing fair, at all!! I like her 🤭 cause he's got nerve, but she knows how to reroute that shit right back to him and he can't take it.

His and Kae's history really is starting to make sense why they're so close, yet so distant. I really want them to meet each other at the bridge, but not just for her to give in to his own selfish reasons, but because she knows she'll be seen and heard like she truly desires, like she deserves.

Watching them explore each other was something special, 😮‍💨

Can't wait for part three, but take your time! Crafting such a story takes time. We artists are patient people.

18 Years: A Yahya Abdul-Mateen II Story Part 2

@miyuhpapayuh @ghostfacekill-monger @henneseyhoe @bakarilennox @sheabuttahwrites @wawakanda-btch @uzumaki-rebellion @starcrossedxwriter @hearteyes-for-killmonger @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cecereads209 @soufcakmistress @essaysbyciara @thegifstories @consent-is-king @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @l-auteuse @chaneajoyyy @livindeelife

Y'ALL.

This is long. I haven't written in this way for this long since I wrote my master's thesis. This is full of exposition and entry ways into these characters. You will learn a little bit more about Naomi and what she has going on. Writing the back and forth between Naomi and Yahya was fun and I think super-illuminating.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER GETS SMUTTY. so if you don't like that, that's your situation. There's cursing, and use of the n-word as well

This took a bit out of me and there might be a week or so before I get started on Part 3. I have some work shit going on that I need to be present for and some mo' shit. Let's get it.

word count: 11,251 (told you it was long)

Characters:

Naomi (37) Yahya (38)

Kae: Your Face Here (36)

PART TWO

PRESENT DAY

I hate being a cliche. I never wanted to be the bisexual girl caught between a man and a woman, fucking them both, while secretly hoping that the man chooses me. In fact, until Yahya came back into my life, I had made a point to eschew all men. I lived as a lesbian. It had been over a decade, in fact, it had been fifteen years since I had seen a flesh and blood dick in person, let alone bounce on one, as Yahya had so stated so crassly. My rule had always been that I could appreciate a fine man, I was gay not blind, but I hadn’t been able to recreate the magic I had felt that summer when Yahya had kissed me in that beat up pickup truck. I went through a phase of actively trying to recreate it. For about three years, there was a parade of men with different variations of tall and handsome. There was Eric, the Fuck Man, who was 25 years older than me, and threw money at me when my age made him feel insecure. There was Matthew the drug dealer, who used to sell dope on my campus.  It was the guy I dated in college, who proposed to me twice with two different rings. These were men I had sex with, trying to recreate the magic of Yahya and I in 2006. 

By the time I gave up, I had run away to live abroad for a while, trying to decide if I actually wanted to be an artist. My father was furious at my preference, furious that I had run away, furious that I was a woman that he couldn’t control. A proud Jamaican man with a wayward daughter that didn’t want to be a doctor, lawyer, or accountant was practically unheard of. I decided to come back to America, come back to Harlem, study art history, get a few degrees, work in museums, reach executive level, and eventually start my business. 

Professionally, I was #Goals. Personally, my life was a mess. Unfulfilled after a string of years of terrible dating in NYC, and when the Pandemic rolled around, I was entering a season of celibacy that would last three years. I moved again, to Boston to take a career-making job, and now we sit in the house I bought looking at each other, wallowing in our burgeoning cliche-hood. I wanted to sink into the earth. 

 “No Naomi, I think you should stay so you both can tell me what it is you do for each other that would make Kae not bounce on the dick she’s been waiting 18 years to get?”

It got scarily quiet after Yahya said that. I looked at him in disbelief. I almost wanted to laugh because he was definitely hilarious. He was jealous. A typical cancer, he was about to perform his emotions. I have never been particularly good at emotional displays. I avert my gaze, dismissing it before Yahya can whip himself into a frenzy. Naomi looks at me, reaches across the cushions to touch my leg, the first display of affection either one of us have shown in his presence. Yahya has never seen me with a woman. He has never seen me share intimacy with a woman outside the bonds of sisterhood and friendship. He knew Lynna and I ran around like hellions for several years, kissing girls and taking them home across a few continents. Lynna’s job with Doctors without Borders paved the way for several Black International entanglements. Lynna would eventually marry a fellow doctor and get serious about her work. 

I stretch my legs out toward Naomi, my five feet and three inches not getting me across the cushions to her, but she makes up the difference, scooting closer and putting my feet in her lap. She rubs small circles into my calves. I was tired. I  took the day off from the office and had essentially cooked most of the day. My cleaning lady, Alice, had come today after Yahya went to the gym, and starting in my bedroom, had changed the sheets, washed linens, and had generally refreshed my entire 4 bedroom three bathroom home. I was ready for guests, I was ready for a weekend wrapped up in Naomi. What would possibly be the last weekend ever. Yahya didn’t know that I was turning a page with Naomi; that life was taking us on separate journeys that would end our arrangement without interference from him; he just wanted to know why I was holding myself away from him. He wanted to know why he could share my life when he was here, how we could be wrapped in each other so closely that my exhales were his inhales, but that I won’t meet him at the bridge. He knew I had feelings for him. He assumed my feelings for Naomi made me confused. I wasn’t confused that I had feelings for him. I was confused that the life I had built for myself, the personal life facts that positioned me professionally, would all disappear if I chose him. That I would be no better than the other girls he wrung emotion and devotion out of, the empty girls that he didn’t stay with. Like the girl that left her teenagers on the other side of the world to follow him around and pick out his clothes, the girl before that, he was hung up on for years in a toxic cycle of codependency and ambition.

I flashed back to that night in his truck.

2006

Being in Yahya’s arms felt natural. He smelled good, a combination of his natural masculine scent, Cool Water, sweat, and the scent of fried catfish in his UC Berkeley t-shirt. It felt like pure magic. Yahya had the body of an athlete and it showed. He was a tall broad man that would only become more. The legend of his father being a big and broad man who dampened panties in all the wards was alive and well in Yahya. He was jumping hurdles for Berkeley and was excited to go back. We discussed my college plans; me being less excited to go to the PWI in Virginia, which was then supposed to be followed by medical school, at UVA or Hopkins. My acceptance letter from NYU tucked away in my wallet, by now too painful to even speak about. I didn’t know it then, but I was already beginning a tradition of carrying totems of heartbreak around with me every day. We didn’t talk about the future as a unit. There was nothing to say. Realistically, the entire continental US was between us. We were two people who were destined never to meet. I didn’t know anything about his life back home in California. He didn’t know anything about mine either. My sidekick rang and it was my cousin, Ebony. My voice took on a different effect, lilting as I slipped into patois, elements of a life that did not include him seeping through.

We pulled up to the street Lynna and Cassie lived on, and parked four houses down. I try to pull out of his arms but he pulls me back and catches me with his lips. My heart beats double time and I circle my arms around his neck, practically sitting on his lap. He kisses along my jawline, tracing my mouth with his fingertips. I raise my eyes to meet his and we share a breathless chuckle. 

“I would have kissed you in April if you weren’t still in high school. Been wanting to do that.” I laugh at him and shrug coyly, knowing that I’ve been wanting it too. 

“When will I see you? Are you coming to the party?” The Beaudremonts were throwing me an ‘off to college’ bash. Those people didn’t really need a reason to throw a function. They were some partying ass people. Both sides of my family were making the trip and I was nervous for outsiders to witness our special brand of Jamaican/Foundational Black American dysfunction. Knowing my family, there would probably be a few tussles before it was all said and done. A week later, I would be headed back to Harlem to pack my life up. Lynna was coming with me; her family would meet us in Virginia, where we were both attending college, in towns 30 minutes apart. She was entering her junior year and I would be a freshman who already had 15 college credits.

“Hell yeah I’m coming! My niggas from Magnolia and few homies from Oakland are coming too. We’re not missing a Jamaican bash. I gotta see this waistline you keep bragging on,” and Yahya tickles my sides. I giggle and swat his shoulder.

“Both sides of my family are nuts. There will be lots of rum, jerk chicken, and pickneys running around. You can take the gyal off the island but you can’t take the island off di gyal,” and I roll my eyes, imitating a dirty wine in my seated position. His eyes light up and he pinches my thigh. 

“Do you plan to wear pum pum shorts?” We both laugh.

“Of course! I am a product of my people. And I’ve been looking good.” This was true, I was looking good. I was young and ate trash but it settled nicely into thick thighs and shapely legs. I had the standard issue black girl booty that was offset by perky C cups that kept me pulling up my American Eagle tube tops, and pulling down my denim micro mini skirts. My hair was piled in my head in a bun that was a victim of the famous southern humidity, but it worked well with my nameplate earrings and necklace, and the gold Nefertiti bangles I never took off. I was a Harlem special, all the way through.

“Yeah, you’ve been looking damn good. All these niggas been talkin’ and lookin’. As long as they aren’t touchin’, then we’re good. I can’t stand the thought of these niggas touching you.” An interesting display of jealousy from a man who waited almost four months to kiss me. 

“Don’t worry, I am not interested in these dudes. Nawlins men shake their ass too much to get close to me. If I want to watch ass shaking, I go to women, not men.” This was a topic that had come up several times, and my opinion had not changed. 

“You spend all that time with Lynna and now you fake gay too? That girl is a trip. I remember when we were kids, she used to keep these niggas falling over her and she ate it up. Now a man can’t breathe in her direction. But they say she fucked Derrick.” I burst out in laughter. Derrick was a Sister in Christ. Trade, if you will. 

“Yahya, why would Lynna fuck Derrick? His trifling self. She buys weed from him, like the rest of y’all do”. I would never out Derrick, but I knew enough about how he got down to stop that rumor before it gained speed. Men gossip like bitches. 

“As long as Derrick ain’t fucking you.”

“I couldn’t imagine having sex with someone who never wears a clean beater.”

“YOOOOO! That man always dirty! I’m building houses and that man be more dirty than me! I can’t call it.” Yahya’s voice falls into the deep drawl that he never quite lost, despite moving to California all those years ago. We both laugh at Derrick, dirty as hell, lying on his dick. I couldn’t wait to climb in bed and tell Lynna what he said.

We fall into a comfortable silence. Yahya reaches over and grabs my hand. We both look at his digital watch. 11:26 PM. He had an early call time for Habitat for Humanity and I know he likes to get a run in before he goes to the sites. I sigh dramatically, not wanting him to leave, even though he had snuck out of work early to take me to the Ogden Museum. He knew I loved art. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t be studying it in the fall. 

“You should probably get home and get some rest. I know you have an early call time. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Yeah you know Habitat be working a nigga.” Neither of us moved to get out of the truck. He leans over, wraps his arms around me low and hugs me, putting his face in my neck and breathing deeply. 

“I’m gon’ miss you Kae-Kae. I can’t believe you leave already. I like seeing you everyday. I want to see you everyday.” He leans back and looks into my eyes and I lean forward and kiss him, initiating for the first time. He responds, pulling me into his lap, both hands squeezing my ass. If I had worn a mini skirt today, I bet his hands would already be under it. He smells so good. I breathe him in and fight the urge to wrap my arms and legs around him. He was so delicious, I wanted to lick him. We sit, wrapped in each other for a beat, then sigh, pull apart. Yahya opens the door and pulls me out on his side, leaning me against the truck and putting his thigh between mine. It takes everything in me not to immediately grind on it, as every touch and look has had me ready for the taking since the secret touches we shared, walking through the museum galleries. He presses his pelvis against me and I feel him harden, not all the way solid, but enough to hint at what lies beneath. It's substantial. I haven’t had or seen a dick that big. I gasped and jumped. He laughs.

“You are sin and sugar, I swear. Sexy enough to tempt every man with a pulse, but innocent enough to be shocked that you make a nigga’s dick hard.”

“I’m not trying to make you hard.”

“You don’t have to try. You look in my direction, I’m getting hard. You are so fine. A distraction.” He rubs his thumb across my cheek and leans down to kiss me again. I kiss him back and feel his dick swell in size. I contemplate what it would be like.

“I bet you taste good too. I know you do. Damn.” He pushes his tongue inside my mouth in a way that I can’t help but think about how he could push his tongue in me, which I know was his goal. Who is tempting who? I moan into his mouth.

“You keep making those sounds girl, you won’t make it back to Harlem, you will be in my suitcase to Cali. I can already see myself coming home from two-a-days to rub on you.” His mouth wanders behind my ear and I lean in as his lips gently caress that sensitive spot. I would let this man say almost anything to me. He could tell me the earth was flat and I would believe it, as long as he kept his hands and mouth on me this way. I run my hand up his stomach, under his t-shirt and I feel his abs tighten at the contact and he takes a deep breath and holds it, as my hand journeys slowly upward, touching his chest. I curve my nails in and I watch his Adam’s Apple bounce in his neck as he swallows and pulls away slowly. 

“Come on, girl. Let’s get you in this house before we both get locked up for indecent exposure.” I laugh and look down at his crotch, which was bulging and moments before had been pressed against my stomach, getting harder, making his presence known.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Yahya the Third has something to say.” And I gesture down, tapping it lightly with my finger. And we both laugh as Yahya adjusts his No Limit Soldier and we walk towards Lynna’s house. Cassie is sitting on the wrap around porch, smirking, like she wasn’t watching us kiss at his truck. At 13, she was the annoying little sister that I always wanted. I spoiled her, and indulged her nonsense, much to the chagrin of her mother, who spoiled both of her daughters and me so much because she didn’t want us going with ‘the first nigga with white teeth that smiles at ya’.  At the steps, Yahya pecks me twice on the lips and kisses the backs of my hands. As I turn to walk up the steps, he swats me on my butt, and when I turn to look at him, he winks. 

Distance be damned, he was never getting rid of me. 

PRESENT DAY

The grandfather clock in the parlor chimes nine times. By now, Yahya would have already landed, and would be trying to facetime me, but instead, he’s in my house, watching Naomi rub soothing circles into my calves. His eyes bounce from Naomi’s hands, to her mouth, to me, and back, like he’s trying to figure out a math equation. Outside the rain continues to pour. Yahya’s phone makes a noise, signaling a flash-flood warning.  Naomi was not going anywhere anytime soon in this weather.

“Are you tired?” Yahya asks me, lifting the highball glass to his lips to take another sip. I nod, too tired to speak. I want a hot bath. I want a blunt. I want an orgasm. I want to sleep. I don’t want this man looking at me with this much audacity, like he’s never wronged me before. Like he’s never done me wrong,  broke my heart, and strung me along, and embarrassed me for all of the ward to see.

I let Naomi rub my calves a little more before I pull my legs out of her lap and sit up straight. I face her and lean over, drawing her into my arms, and we hug long under Yahya’s watchful eye. Naomi strokes my hair and rubs my back, holding me for as long as I hold her. I breathe in her floral scent and close my eyes. I know that when this is all said and done, I’ll probably miss her the most. I miss her already.  When I pull away, we look at each other and she moves my hair out of my face. My favorite thing about Naomi is that she meets me where I am. She possesses a well of emotional intelligence that is hard to resist, which is part of the reason that we three lovers have found ourselves in this predicament. It is hard to resist the affection of someone who is SO present for you. I often wonder how she does it. Professionally, she is just as high-powered as me, if not more so, but when I need her, when her husband needs her, she is there pouring into us. She’s poured into us at the same time, holding both of our hands under the table at Bertolli's; the restaurant we met at often when I was courting her husband as an angel investor in my firm. 

Both of us ignore Yahya, as we spend a little time coming home to each other. My situation with Naomi doesn’t feel so complicated in this moment. In this moment, Naomi is a sure thing, and she’ll be in my life after our sexual relationship ends. After she conceives the baby that will take her romance away from me. The baby she promised her husband ten years ago. The baby she’s been delaying because of me. I sigh, stand up, and make my way over to the built in bookshelves, bending to open the cabinet below as the lights flicker, and I grab the large box of pillar candles. I drop the box in front of the fireplace, and remove the grate, revealing the wrought-iron candelabra that lives inside. My house has three fireplaces, and I commissioned custom candelabras for them all. It is one of my favorite things about my home. The lights flicker again, which makes me focus on the task at hand. I put a tall, large, white pillar candle in each votive, alternating between scented and unscented. I hear Maxwell’s bell chime, as he jumps on the sofa to get to Naomi. Maxwell, my black smoke maine coon, is in love with Naomi and surprisingly, he likes Yahya as well. His purr sounds like my hitachi magic wand and I chuckle at the thought. I turn on the rechargeable soundbar, and it links to Yahya’s phone, which he pulls out and selects one of his patented mixes. Marvin Gaye’s “Come Get To This” begins to play. 

As I move around the room, Naomi, and Yahya sit in silence, pretending not to watch each other. I kind of want them to talk to each other. Naomi is an excellent mediator and she could probably get the crux of his issues faster than me. He’s been vibrating with nervous, anxiety-ridden energy, and I am giving him a wide berth until he decides what emotion he wants to settle with. 

“So what do you do?” Yahya asks Naomi, as I walk back into the family room with a tray that includes a pitcher of water, fresh glasses, and an ice bucket that I put another bottle of wine in. I hum lightly to Marvin, giving them privacy, while ear-hustling to the highest degree. I wander back into the kitchen to prepare some fruit. Yahya is a big ass man, and he eats often. Keeping him fed would lessen his anger or whatever he’s feeling right now. I make him a plate of leftovers, which I bring to him, handing him the plate, while I set up the tv tray so he can eat. I pour him and Naomi a glass of water and I go back to the kitchen to bring the fruit tray out. 

“I’m a lawyer. I specialize in finance, intellectual property, mergers and acquisitions.”

“Oh! You’re the lawyer that Kae has been cultivating for the Board of Directors. I didn’t know that Naomi, and The Lawyer were the same person. Kae didn’t tell me that. Probably on purpose.”

“I’ve seen your work. My husband and I loved Watchmen.”

“What? You’re married?!” 

Damn. The conversation was going well, until Naomi let that slip. I stay quiet in the kitchen. Naomi is a legal eagle. She’ll navigate this.

“Yes, I have a husband. Yes, he knows about my relationship with Kae. No, he has never slept with Kae.”

“But you fuck him and Kae. And you would let Kae bring whatever that is back to me.”

“But Kae isn’t fucking you, so that is a moot point. If you would like to know how I keep Kae safe, I have no issue telling you, but I won’t if you imply that I’m dirty, because I am not!” Naomi’s voice was sharp and firm. Yahya doesn’t respond for a while. 1 point for Team Naomi.

“Is your husband not fucking you right? Is that why you're cheating on him with Kae?” At that sentence, I start to walk back into the family room and tell Yahya not to speak to her like that. I won’t allow her to be disrespected.

“Oh, my husband fucks me just fine. You’ll never understand what Kae and I have. The only person not being fucked in this equation is you.” 2 points for Naomi.

“So you want to have your dick and eat your pussy too? Copy. Seems selfish. Why rope Kae into that when you know she has a good man in her life that will take care of all of that?”

“I haven’t roped Kae into anything. Yes, I pursued her, but she didn’t go into this blindly. And what I do with dick or pussy will never be your business.”

“If it involves Kae, it's definitely my business. What you do with her pussy is my business. If you like the way she tastes, that’s my business. And if she’s enjoying making you cum instead of me, then it’s doubly my business.” Naomi laughs.

“What do you think is happening here? Do you think this is a conspiracy or something? Should I make us tin foil hats for the conversation?”

“It might not be a conspiracy, but it is a fucking problem when the woman I love won’t let me show her that I do.”

My heart leaps in my chest when I hear him say that he loves me. He hasn’t verbalized this to me, the closest he’s come is writing it in the card of a flower delivery.

“Do you love her forreal?” 

“I do. I want to be with her. I want her for myself. I want to take care of her. I want her to give birth to my children. I want to make her happy. This is why I need to know what you do for her, because if I can do it too, then maybe I won’t lose her. I don’t want to lose her again.”

“How did you lose her?”

“Kae never told you about that? Huh. I guess some things are sacred after all. I thought you knew everything about me, about her, about us together.”

“That’s funny. Kae never talks about the things that cause her pain. She carries it around with her until she can’t carry it anymore, then she replaces it with a new hurt with sharper edges that she can bleed against in silence, while pretending nothing is ever wrong.” Yahya scoffs again, the second time tonight. I have to remember to tell him that indignation is not a good look for him. 

“Oh, so you do know her!” They share a quiet moment of commiseration; the second time tonight that they have bonded over my ways. Yahya picks up his fork and clears his throat to speak again. “I knew Kae’s father. Let’s just say it is a miracle she talks about any feelings at all, good or bad.”

“I didn’t know you knew her dad.” Naomi is shocked. I never told her that. It's weird watching both of them learn the boundaries of the other’s relationship with me. Yahya smiles. 

“I knew her dad. I know her siblings.I know her grandparents. I know her best friends. I know her staff. I put flowers on her parents' graves when I’m in the area. I know her.”

I was startled hearing that, I never knew. I had sent flowers to the funeral when Yahya’s dad had passed away, but by that time, things between us were so untenable, I had changed my number and neither he or his family had a way to reach me. 

“But not like I do.” A low blow. 3 points for Naomi.

I come back into the room with the fruit tray and they fall silent. I decided to pretend that I wasn’t listening to them compare genitals over me, but I realize that they both love me. Yahya is actively battling for my affection against a married woman. He acts as if being my one and only is the only way forward. Naomi, in battle as well, not against Yahya, but against the life she had committed herself to before she met me. Breaking her promise to her husband everyday she remained without child. I don’t think she saw Yah as competition the same way he saw her. Yah didn’t realize that whether I had sex with him or not, Naomi would always want me. Her desire for me was so outside of the bounds of relationships, sex, and marriage. Like I considered her a sure thing in my life, she felt the same way and had told me as much, when she invited me for a spa weekend. The same weekend she told me that she wanted to be with me, in any way she could be, in any way I would allow. I’m not powerful enough to disregard surrender and that is what Naomi gives me. Our situation isn’t perfect but I know it doesn’t have to be. Listening to Naomi own her shit, stand on her mess and still openly declare her desire for me is so moving. It’s an action in direct opposition to the history I share with Yahya.

 The song changes. The Sweetest Thing by Refugee Camp All-Stars. Yah and I look at each other and I feel myself flashback. 

2006

The day after Yahya kissed me, Lynna and I were busy prepping food, and taking multiple trips to the airport to pick up different sets of relatives flying in from NYC and Florida. I was on cloud nine for the entire day, Yahya in my mind on repeat saying ‘I want to see you everyday’. I was practically floating, thinking about the way he had looked at me over our giant plates of catfish. He looked at me like he wanted to keep me; the way I felt, I wanted to stay. I texted him, asking if he could sneak away to see me for a bit tonight, and he agreed right away. So I spent the rest of the day surrounded by the Beaudremont women and my own family, counting down the hours until we could both sneak away. 

He came to pick me up, at almost 11 PM, and I climbed out the bedroom window to avoid my and Lynna’s aunties in my business. When I get in the truck, he grabs me roughly and brings me to him, kissing me before he even says hello. I’m breathless in it. Even a day of anticipation could not prepare me for what his presence actually felt like. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispers in my ear before pressing his lips against my ear lobe. I run my fingers over his biceps, tracing the muscles. He then pulls away and hands me an icey cup from the house store in the ward. Frozen grape kool aid, that he’s broken up and mixed with a little rum. A man that remembers your kool aid flavor is definitely a keeper. He shifts the gear, pulling away from his parking spot, four houses down and drives away. The windows are rolled down, and I take my hair out of its bun, letting the breeze blow through my natural curls. He tugs on a curl and smiles, leaning closer so that he can sniff the curl in his fingers.

“You’re always smelling me. Do I stink?”

“Nah girl. You smell delicious. Good enough to eat. I’m committing you to memory,”  he laughs, pulling my hair again. I shrug. I stick my arm out the window, letting the wind blow all around it.

“Where are you taking me?” I didn’t really care. I would go anywhere with this man. I could probably walk on water if he was waiting for me on the other side. He was that fine and I had it that bad. 

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it.” He pulls off the highway, once we cross the bridge and takes a maintenance road not far from Algiers Ferry. We continue to drive deeper into the cut before breaking out onto a dirt road by higher ground. Yah backs near a tree, this spot cut out of the brush by other lovers before us. 

“Stay put. I’ll be right back.” Yah gets out of the truck and slams the door, reaching behind the back and begins tinkering. I take the moment to flip my sidekick and text Lynna to check in. She’s on LSU campus with a girl she shouldn’t be with and everyone thinks we’re together, having a sleepover at another cousin’s house so we’re safe. This is a flimsy excuse that will fall apart with a few well-placed phone calls but, these people are in their liquor and aren’t looking for us. I close my phone as Yahya comes around on my side with a bandana. 

“You trust me?” He smiles at me so disarmingly, I folded like a cheap chair.

“I don’t trust men! Ya’ll lie all the time!” I’m laughing at him and this performance of an offended man.

“All I want to do is make you happy,” he says in that deep voice that tries to rattle me. 

“Oh boy, whatever! You up to something and that’s okay because one wrong move and all my cousins will beat you up tomorrow!”

“I ain’t scared of them Rastas, girl. Let Daddy take care of you.” I roll my eyes and turn my back, letting him put the bandana over my eyes. He grabs both of my hands and walks me 5 steps toward the back of the truck then turns me around and takes off my blindfold. 

He’s transformed the bed of his pickup truck into a romantic campsite. There is a futon mattress and sleeping bags covering the bottom, pillows, a lantern, a small cooler, and a portable cd player for music. He presses play and a mix cd begins to play, the first notes of The Sweetest Thing by Refugee Camp All-Stars. 

“Let me give you a boost up,” Yahya whispers in my ear while standing behind me. I turn around and look up at him, a whole foot taller than me and nod. He tightens his hands around my waist and lifts me.Then climbs behind me, angling his long body so that he could be comfortable while holding me in his arms. I lean back against his chest. From where we sat, we could see the Mississippi River in all its dirty glory, the ferry, the bridge, and most importantly, the stars were lighting up the sky. It was a beautiful moment with this beautiful man. I felt grateful. 

“I like this surprise,” I whisper into his neck. 

“I like you.I like you so much,” Yahya whispers in return. I turn around to look at him and his brow is furrowed like he’s in deep thought. I touch his forehead. 

“No frownies. We have tonight, in this beautiful place you prepared for me, don’t think about anything else.” Yahya leans in and kisses me. It is a serious kiss, not a peck and definitely ignites the ember that he began the night before, against his truck. We hadn’t discussed sex other than the fact that neither of us were virgins, and that he didn’t want anyone else touching me.  My experience with men was severely limited. The high school boyfriend I had car sex with didn’t compare to the man that held me now. I was out of my depth, happily. I didn’t know where this was going but I was going wherever it went. 

“Warm as the sun, dipped in Black. That’s you.”

“Look at you being sweet, I thought you didn’t trust me?” I turn around and face him, straddling his lap.

“I’m sweet as pie. I thought you wanted to taste?” He leans forward, grabbing a handful of my ass and attacks my lips. I moan into it, and he huffs a breathless laugh.

“What did I tell you about those sounds? They make me want to lose my restraint. I’m trying to take care of you, not corrupt you.”

“Maybe I should be a little corrupted, before I go to college. I can’t show up too innocent, you know.”

“There she go. Sugar and sin. I’ll corrupt you, alright” He runs his fingertips along the edge of my mini skirt, along the backs of my thighs. The kissing gets more heated. I feel myself dampen as he gets a bit more acquainted with the panties covering my ass. He squeezes my panty-covered ass tightly in one of his hands and groans into my mouth, backing away a bit. 

“Did I do something wrong, Yahya?”

“No girl, everything is so right, and I’m mad as hell that I don’t have a condom. I didn’t think it would go like this.” He runs kisses along my neck and I lean my head back exposing more of my skin to his lips. He pushes his nose down my tank top, leaving open-mouthed kisses on the cleavage he found there. 

“Skin so soft, smell so good, feel so good. Want you so bad.” I moan again, listening to that deep voice vibrate against my skin. I feel goosebumps forming on my skin and I shudder against his meandering lips, feeling my nipples harden almost painfully. As if connected to my body, he reaches under my tank top to fondle my breasts. His finger continues to wander along my hips and he wiggles a finger under the side seam of my panties. Like a heat-seeking missile, Yahya encounters my wetness and groans deep in his chest, far too gone to reason with. I didn’t have a lick of sense, it all having left me the very moment I straddled him. He rolls over, laying me down and propping himself above me with one hand while putting his wet finger tip in his mouth, groaning as my flavor hit his tongue.

“Shit, I knew you would be delicious. Don’t make sense.”

I pull his shirt up and over his head and he raises his arms and finishes the job, rushing back down to kiss me. I can detect the faintest trace of myself on his tongue and I swear his dick grew three sizes once he had a sample. His dick pressing long and hard against my upper thigh, bigger than my original estimate. I was way past playing coy, wanting to explore his long, broad body. I run my hands along his chest and shoulders, marveling at his size. I kiss his neck, sucking softly on the skin, moving up his neck toward his jawline. He tilts his head into my lips and sighs deeply. I wanted this man naked having his way with me. 

“How far do you want to take this? If you want to take this beyond where we are now… I don’t have a condom, but I can still make you cum, if you let me. But we can also dial it back. I don’t want you to feel pressured.” His concern for me was sweet. This man was a sweetheart. It turned me into an even wetter mess.

“I want to go wherever you want to go. Full disclosure, I don’t know how to suck dick! I ain’t never done that before.” We both just look at each other and crack up. He kisses me again, pecks on my lips and cheeks, laughing the entire time.

“It ain’t rocket science. If you decide you want to try it, I’ll walk you through it, if not, that’s okay too. I can make us both cum very easily. My full disclosure is that it will get a little freaky. If that’s cool, then let Daddy take care of you. You don’t have to do anything but feel me feeling you.” It was the second time he had called himself Daddy, the second time he told me to let me take care of him. Intrigued by his disclosure, I decided at that moment to let him do just that. 

PRESENT DAY

The rain continues to pour. Yahya’s phone alerts us again that there is a flash flood warning. He looks at his phone. 

“The warning has been extended. Guess you’re stuck with us all night, Naomi.”

“I’m not stuck, Yahya. I am exactly where I am supposed to be, at Kae’s invitation. You’re the unexpected guest.”

“Okay, Naomi. We’ll see where you sleep tonight.”

“I’ll sleep where my bag is, where you saw something lacy. Where will you sleep? NYC is just three hours away. If you leave now, you could be in your own bed by 2 AM. Sounds like a no-brainer to me.”

“Why would I leave when you aren’t done answering my questions? You don’t run things here, Naomi. You should go home to your husband, where your ass belongs, and run him!” There go Yahya letting his emotions carry him. 

I get up, sighing deeply and grab my weed box off of the shelf. Maybe a little cannabis will make everyone chill. Except Naomi. She’s off of weed, since she’s supposed to be getting pregnant. Naomi and I try to operate from a foundation of love and support, despite the fact that we have been taking each other on a ride lately. We also try to make a point of keeping our men out of our dealings. Naomi wasn’t lying about keeping me safe and I’ve never slept with her husband, although I do know him and consider him a personal friend. Naomi doesn’t know that her husband called me and asked me to back off, not because he didn’t want us seeing each other, but because when she’s with me, she forgets the promises she’s made and his patience has run out. 

I guess he must have felt his ears burning, because Naomi’s watch begins to ring. I hear the vibration as I sit cross-legged on the floor, my back against the cream couch, wooden box in my lap. A creature of habit, Naomi cups the back of my head, leaning down to peck me quickly on the lips, the way she always does when she leaves the room to answer a call. I smile into her lips, deeply inhaling her scent. Yahya grunts watching the quick display of affection between us. I start, having forgotten about him in the brief moment Naomi kissed me. She stands in a fluid motion and walks out the room, a sway in her hips, her tall frame moving with purpose. We both watch her walk away, through the family room, past the parlor, up the stairs, finally disappearing from sight. I sigh, feeling the weight of whatever conversation they were about to have. 

Turning back to my weed, I make a point to avoid Yah’s eyes. I open the tiny drawer of my mechanical grinder, displeased that there is leftover bud inside, a sign of Yahya’s carelessness. He knows I hate that, and I roll his joint with the leftovers he ground. My joints will be fresher. I feel his eyes on me as he stands up, folding the tv tray to put back where it belongs and takes his empty plate to the kitchen. I hear the water turn on, and I hear him wash his plate. The best thing about him growing up in a house full of women is that he isn’t afraid to cook or clean.  I love to cook but I hate house work and I hate cleaning so as soon as I could afford a regular housekeeper, I hired one. He’s truly domesticated however, and when he’s here, I eat regularly because he makes me, going as far as sending lunch to my office, bringing it to me, or taking me out. In the evenings, we cook together. He took it upon himself to learn the ins and outs of my severe anemia, and cooked foods that were iron-rich and satisfying. He even bought me an iron fish after reading that daily use could raise iron levels by 43%. For the first time in my life, my iron levels are improving. I’m still anemic, but I’ve been feeling better, and I have more energy. I can’t help but smile, thinking of the ways he takes care of me. I look down at my handiwork; four perfect roll ups. Two for him and two for me. I put everything back inside the wooden box and stand, putting the roll ups on the class coffee table. Yahya, walks back into the sitting room and sits on the couch watching me place the box back on the shelf. 

He sits, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and when I get closer to him, he grabs me, putting his big hands around my waist, drawing me closer to him. He silently rests his forehead on my stomach and I raise my right hand to cup his face. I stroke his cheeks, run my fingers over his masculine brow. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite grasp. I grab his ears gently. He leans up and kisses me roughly, without asking for permission, and I feel anger, desire, and a secret third thing that gives the kiss an edge. An urgency. He tastes good and I miss him being sweet to me. We hold each other in silence. 

“I never thought I’d see you kiss a girl. That was kind of weird for me. I don’t like seeing another person touch you, even if they do it with love. She gets a version of you that I don’t get. Why does she get to have you like that?” I sigh deeply and attempt to disengage, but he holds tight and forces me to deal. I stroke the side of his neck. 

“She…we…it’s just different. It’s hard to explain. I guess, no matter what is going on around us, we know who we are to each other. Our foundation is built on truth, care, and support.”

“I can see that you care for each other. I can feel it, even when there’s space between you. I’ve felt her this whole time. I’ve even smelled her before. You smell like vanilla and amber. Naomi smells like flowers. I can’t believe I never put all of this together. The entire time we’ve been reconnecting, she’s been here with us.” I sigh and attempt to pull away again, but Yahya is unyielding.

“She’s amazing. It's not perfect, though. Nothing ever is.” 

“Yeah. I never thought I would see you play second fiddle on purpose.” I roll my eyes at the irony of the statement. 

“It's not perfect. And neither were we. Then or now.”

“Tell me what you do for each other.” I can’t help but smile. I picture Naomi upstairs, long legs tucked under her at the window seat, nibbling on her full bottom lip, while she listens to her husband on the other end of the line. Her hair pulled to one side, her shoulder holds the phone up to her ear. 

“Kae. You gotta give me something.”

“Yahya. A romantic relationship between two people is not difficult to understand. Naomi and I are attracted to each other. We understand each other. We spend time together. We go on dates. This isn’t a foreign concept.”

“You fuck her and you won’t fuck me.” I pull away for the third time, but once again he holds on, refusing to free me. He presses a kiss to my stomach through my shirt. He gives me another, and another, working his way up toward my breasts. He always feels good, and as he continues to touch me, I can’t deny the twinge of arousal I feel in his tight grip. It hasn’t been easy to not go all the way with him over the past six months. The way he holds me at night, enveloping me in his big body. Somehow he always winds up on top of me, the regular occurrence of that big dick at full attention, pressed against the softness of my stomach. 

“You gotta get over it. Sex needed to be out of the equation for us. We needed to get to know each other now, as adults. I was seeing her way before I reconnected with you. And Naomi, what we have, it's changing. And it isn’t just sex with her. Please don’t cheapen it by reducing Naomi to just sex. She sees me, the real me. She validates and affirms me. And I get to give that back to her. I’m honored to be that for her. With her, I don’t have to navigate a painful past and an uncertain future. I just get to be with her in a way that makes sense to us.”

He nods against my stomach and pulls back a bit, finally releasing me. I turn around and grab two joints and lean forward to light the joint with the heavy jade and malachite table lighter, a gift from Naomi’s husband when we solidified our business arrangement. I light one joint, taking a deep inhale to make sure the light stays and I walk back to the couch, and climb on, Yah pulling me into his lap as I turn the joint to his lips. His arm is wrapped around my waist and he rubs my hip as I settle deeper in his lap. It feels good to share space this way. I glance at the stairs. We sit in silence, sharing the joint, the smoke swirling around our heads.

“I know it feels like I’m hounding you. I want you in every way. The way I’m in your life, you can’t deny that you aren’t aware of that. I want to be your man in every way. It matters that we don’t. It matters to me, like it mattered to you.” An allusion to the past, and just like that, I’m back in the bed of that raggedy pickup truck. 

2006

Yahya told me to let him take care of me. That all I needed to do was feel him feeling me. He set out to prove that point. He returned his lips to mine, trailing his hands down to my tank top to raise it, pulling it up before separating briefly to pull it over my head. I reach one arm out to grab his neck to pull his lips back to mine and the other arm reaches behind my back, bumping into his hands at the closure of my bra; both of us frenzied to get it unlatched. He pulls the straps down both arms quickly and I snatch it off of myself as his kisses quickly trail down my neck to my chest and he rushes, putting his mouth on my right nipple, squeezing both breasts in his hands. He hums in his throat as his tongue laves my nipple and I throw my head back, thrusting more of my titty in his mouth. My nipple gets harder, pebbling in his mouth as he scrapes his teeth over it gently before wrapping it in his lips and sucking ardently. He lets my nipple go with a pop, switching to the other and he shows it the same love, his eyes rolling up to neet mine, checking my temperature. Gasping at the cool air on my wet nipple, I look down at him and our eyes connect, which makes my core clench at the sight of him enjoying me so thoroughly. His hands drop to the button of my skirt and I nod as he proceeds to undo the button and draw the zipper down slowly. I lower my hands to grip him through his pants and the way that dick feels makes me clench again. I moan low and lift my knee to gently caress his blessing. 

He sits up to work my mini skirt and panties down my legs and he opens my legs back up immediately. I feel the gentle air hit my wetness, and when I see the way I glisten in the light of the lantern, I feel nothing except a surge of lust. 

“Goddddd dammmnnn. You got this wet for me? I did this?” I nod at him and he looks back down between my legs and runs a finger through the wetness that dampens the curls of hair, scooping some on his fingertip and puts it into his mouth, groaning at my flavor. That sample must have been the straw that broke him because he shows me that long tongue and licks a big stripe from my opening to my clit, fully separating my pussy lips and unleashing a puddle of wetness. He lowers himself on his stomach, wrapping both hands around my splayed open thighs. His tongue cleans me up, picking up the essence that coats my inner thighs, his nose nudging my clit that stands at attention, wet, hard, and exposed. I huff at the impact of his tongue against me, my thigh twitching, attempting to close around his head as the tip of his tongue glides up the left side and down the right. My core squeezes as his moans, mouth vibrating against me. I feel myself getting wetter as his tongue performs tight circles around that bundle of nerves. My stomach tightens and I feel myself getting closer to that precipice. Yahya senses it as well as I pull his head deeper into my wet pussy. 

“Yah…Yah. Pleeeeaaassseeeeeee. Please.” He chuckles, his mouth never leaving me. I tremble at this feeling. I feel so present, every hair of my body standing at attention, and I arch myself into his wet mouth deeper. He sucks my entire clit into his mouth at that moment and the orgasm rushes out of me.

“Arrghh! Yahya!,” I cry out, gripping his shoulder, digging my nails into him. My wetness slides out of my opening, down my asscrack. I shake, trembling from the experience and I am gasping. Yahya sits up on his knees before my prone body and my hands quickly go to the button on his shorts, scrambling to get that monster dick out of his pants. I pull it out and it stretches past my fingers, thick, veiny, and long. I drop his dick when he grabs me roughly behind my neck, pulling me up to his lips and I feel him leak precum down my thigh, a steady stream that shows me that I am affecting him just as much as he’s affecting me. I moan at the taste of my essence on his  lips and tongue. It turns me on further, heightening the intensely erotic energy. His face is covered in my wetness and I pull away and give his cheek a big lick, mimicking the way he licked me, collecting my own intimate flavor from his 5 o’clock shadow. He laughs at my actions.

“Let me find out there’s a freak in you that likes the taste of pussy as much as I do. You taste so fucking good, I want you in my mouth every day. Knew your ass was dangerous.” He reaches back down between my legs and strokes my opening with his middle finger, getting the tip lubricated in the copious amount of wetness flowing from me. He grabs my hip with his other hand and reclines against the back window of the truck, pulling me on top of him; simultaneously working his middle finger into me knuckle deep, stretching me. 

“Come on girl. Ride Daddy. Show me what you’ll do when I give you this dick!” I squirm and he grips my hip, digging his fingertips into my hip. I guess I’m not responding fast enough, because he gives a pop to my ass cheek, the sting making me focus on his words. 

“I said ride Daddy.” He pushes a second finger inside me and I bear down against him, my pussy gripping his fingers like a vise. He groans at the feeling and I take it further, wrapping my hand around his manhood, using the continuously dribbling precum to slowly stroke him, rubbing the mushroom tip with my thumb, and he jerks at the feeling. I giggle, relishing in the new found power I’ve discovered. He decides to get me back, curving his two thick fingers against that interior bundle of nerves, while slightly widening his fingers to give me more stretch. My body responds immediately and I suddenly release a small spray of fluid into his lap, wetting the waistband of his shorts and the front of his boxer briefs.

“Yahya!”

“Daddy is here, give me more of that squirt. Wet me up. Let me see you feel good.” I lift off of him slightly and bear back down and the thrust of his hand quickly matches my rhythm. The slide is effortless, downright elegant, and it is an indescribable feeling to have someone this devoted to your pleasure surrounded by the beauty of nature. I increase the pace of my ride, locking eyes with him as I wrap one arm around my neck to steady myself. I feel my eyes close and I lean my head back only to feel a sharp slap on my ass again.

“Look at me, Kae. What’s my name?” His voice rumbles in his chest.

“Yahya.” I increase my pace. He slaps my ass again and his fingers reach deeper inside of me.

“Kae, what’s my fucking name?” He slaps my ass again.

“Yahya!” He gives me a succession of slaps; three in a row. I moan and I feel my pussy grip his fingers tighter. I’m so close to cumming. He slaps my ass three more times, grips my loose hair and pulls it, exposing my neck that he attacks with open mouth kisses.

“I’m not going to ask you again. What’s my fucking name?” He thrusts faster, and gives me another spanking. My ass stings. I cry out, throwing my other arm around his neck. My ride is frantic, my mouth open, gasping for air. I’m right there, so close so close so close. Wetter than I’ve ever been. On this final rise off of his fingers, he shocks me, adding a third finger and I climax with a wail.

“DADDDDYYYY!!! Daddy!” I yell out as I squirt all over his hand and it drips down his wrist, wetting his front. The orgasm continues and he grunts with his head against my chest, gripping me tightly. My breathing slows and my senses kick back in, starting with my sight, as the dots of brightness dissipate from behind my eyelids. My hearing comes back, the buzzing in my ears being replaced by the sound of the mix cd. Pretty Ricky’s Grind on Me. I would laugh if I could, because I definitely did some grinding. I feel the cool air on my sweaty and sex-slick skin. Yahya and I lock eyes and he presses a light kiss to my chest as I slump on top of him.

“I guess I don’t need to walk you through sucking dick.” I look down at his dick, pressed between us, leaning back slightly to see it better in the light of the lantern. Both of us are covered in a large amount of his cum, which continues to pour out of his still-firm dick.

“You got me nuttin all over myself like a teenage boy. I can’t believe it.” We both laugh as we watch his dick twitch and dribble. I swipe a bit of cum off of the head with my finger tip and put it in my mouth, tasting him as he tasted me. He watches me with hooded eyes. He slowly pulls his fingers out of me, and I startle at the feeling, attempting to lift off of his lap completely, but he pulls me back as he lifts those three soaked fingers to his mouth, and he closes his eyes as he sucks me off of his fingers, savoring my flavor. My pussy grips air at the sight. He reaches over to grab one of the hand towels he had tucked into the cooler and he wipes his hands, then gently wipes his cum off of my stomach, then his own. 

“I’m not done with you yet, so don’t tap out on me. We got all night and I plan to use every moment making you feel good. Stand up for me.” He taps my right hip twice with his fingers. Shakily, I rise, standing to my full height in the bed of the pickup and he does the same, ducking slightly so his head does’t hit the lowest hanging limb of the tree we’re parked under. He shifts around me, positioning my standing frame to continue facing the view of the window and he kneels behind my ass, and bends me forward at the hips while widening my stance like he’s frisking me. He continues bending me until my hands are flat against the roof of the truck and my legs are spread wide. He rubs up my legs and thighs, hard dick still hanging out the front of his wet pants. 

“Damn. You really are a dime. The whole ward is sweatin’ you. Fine ass.” He pops my ass cheeks again and I giggle at the slight sting. 

“I’m about to feast.” he says as he spreads my ass to eat my pussy from the back. I immediately groan. This is fucking with me. He’s fucking with me. Ruining me for any other experience I’ll ever have. I have a random thought cross my mind that I’m too young to experience something this good. Like this shit is going to put a rip in the time-space continuum or open my third eye and break the fourth wall. I was hanging on by a thread. No sexual activity that I had ever participated in over the course of my barely-legal life could ever compete in the pure, undiluted eroticism of this moment. 

“Look at you, dripping down your thighs. Fuckkkk.” Yahya attacks me with gusto. I realize right away that the collapse of my legs is imminent, but he holds me up, bracing my legs while he licks me from behind like a vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles from Mister Softee. I swallow hard, and I moan out at the attention being paid to my clit, feeling the tremble in my thigh increase the closer I get to another orgasm. Yahya feels it, and backs away from my clit and laughs, his breath huffing against my wetness. Like I said, he’s fucking with me. I groan and he laughs louder and slaps me on my ass, hard.

“Not yet, baby. You cum when I say. Why is that?” I’m slow to answer, too caught up in the finger he’s easing inside my walls. He slaps me again.

“Why is that, Kae?” He presses another finger inside of me and I grip tightly. He increases his speed slightly.

“Because you’re Daddy.”

“That’s right, Kae. I’m Daddy. And I promise to take real good care of you.” The speed of his fingers increases again and he’s hitting that spot with every thrust.

“Pussy so good. Got my dick hard as fuck. Can’t wait to put my dick in you.” My Nefertiti bracelets rattle against the metal roof of the truck as I attempt to throw my ass back against his strokes feeling my orgasm get closer. This only earns me another spanking.

“Your wet ass pussy got you acting hard-headed. You cum when I say. I’m going to take care of you baby, I promise.” The teasing is unbearable. This is the second time he’s brought me close to the edge, just to not see it through. I groan, legs shaking and he laughs against my clit, slowing his fingers inside me to a snail’s paste. 

“Yahya, please.” Another spanking. Four quick slaps. Two on each cheek.

“Daddy, please.” Yahya laughs again.

“Babygirl, what’s wrong?”

“I need to cum. I need to come real bad. I can’t hold it.” I feel another river rush out of me and I guess he sees it too and it sets me off because next thing I know he’s laying down and dragging me with him and I find myself being speared on his waiting tongue which quickly pushes inside me. He slaps my hips and I wordlessly ride his face reverse cowgirl, no longer trying to hold myself back. He shifts me against his face, rubs my clit in tight circles, and rims my asshole.

“Ugghh! Yah!” I cum immediately, forcefully, completely wetting the lower quadrant of his face. In my ecstasy I see his dick standing tall and proud and I grab it, putting the head in my mouth and I suck hard, attempting to channel my sexual energy before it takes me over. His cum spurts out immediately and I use it to slide him deeper into my mouth. He drops my ass on his chest and his entire body cringes and he yells.

“FUCCCKKK. KAEE!” I hum in satisfaction. I might not be a rocket scientist but what I lacked in dick-sucking know-how, I more than made up for in enthusiasm. I bob my head on that dick, careful not to graze him with my teeth. It isn’t easy, he’s girthy and long, stretching my mouth to the limit as cum and saliva squeezes out of the sides of my mouth. Yahya’s head drops against the floor of the truck bed.

“Gahdamn gahdamn. You sucking me. Fuck. You’re sucking me!” He thrust his hips, feeding me dick in this accidental 69. He hits my throat and I gag. He rewards me with another spurt of cum and I proceed to try to drain his balls. He hardens again, clearly enjoying the head, tracing my asshole with his finger, which makes my throat tighten unexpectedly on him and he grunts loudly and cums again, a smaller nut, but just as powerful.

“FUCK! Fuck! Get off my dick before you kill me.” I giggle with my mouth full of him, and slide my mouth up to his head, letting him feel the vibration. He spurts again. I stand up and turn around, finally leaving my reverse cowgirl position. His entire body is twitching as he looks at me with a furrowed brow. I wipe the corners of my mouth and swallow. 

“Are you okay?,” I ask. He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to be corrupting you, but I think you just corrupted me.” I laugh and wipe his groin gently with the towel and hand it to him. He uses the other side to wipe his face. My pussy is leaking, swollen between my thighs. Yahya grunts sitting up to grab a ziplock bag from the cooler. It contained a wet washcloth. This nigga had thought of everything. Daddy, indeed. He rolls me off of him so that I’m laying beside him on my back. He spreads my thigh over his and wipes me gently. I coo at the contact and he smirks.

“Oh so you came ready to clean up, huh?” His face opens in that blinding smile as he laughs for real.

“I did but only because I packed us sandwiches. I remember that you hate being dirty, which is a terrible quality when volunteering to demolish houses.” I crack up. There were no lies told. Stumped, for a moment, I smile.

“I’ve never had anyone lick my butthole before.”

“I’ve never had anyone make me cum on myself from the sheer joy of eating her pussy.” I giggle at the weird compliment, but I don’t feel embarrassed or shy. It is impossible to be shy with someone who ate your ass and enjoyed doing it. He looks down at his watch.

“It’s 3:52AM. We should probably head back soon.” Both of us lay on our backs on top of the sleeping bags. Me fully nude and him shirtless with his softening dick still exposed. 

“Just a little while longer,” I say and he pulls me close, kissing me sweetly and wrapping his arms around me. He pushes his face into my neck. 

“If I could, I’d stop time.”

[itsbackwoodsbby]

A/N: confession- pretty sure this was wrote the beginning of this year… like february/april. went through a lot. never forgot it though. revisited it a lot to read what i had. just never finished … here it is … nov. 22nd at 3am. removing the cobwebs and putting it for the world to see. hope you guys enjoy it. definitely not proofreading this, so excuse the errors.

ICU

Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black Fem Reader

Warning: Smut! Unprotected Sex! Dinking (Recreational)! Swearing!

Summary: Yahya and you used to be together, until you both realized that you were better off as friends. You start dating again and none of the guys are really for you. a lonely night in your apartment makes you realize that Yahya might be one.

Inspo: ICU by Coco Jones

you come into your apartment and place your purse on the counter and take off your heels. you head to the kitchen and make yourself a very strong peach margarita on the rocks. after you make the drink, you trudge to your living room and sink deep into your couch, replaying the date in your head. he was an hour and thirty minutes late. he got loud with the waiter for getting his food wrong. the waiter was new and scared. so our waiter changed to a waitress and he starts flirting with her for the whole ass night. you groan and start face palming.

there’s no way you go out with yet another asshole. get it together y/n.

“alexa, play icu by coco jones.” you blow out, very upset with yourself.

she follows your command and the music plays.

you close your eyes. the cadence of coco’s beautifully crafted voice fills the room. you get up and look at the night sky and admire the stars. they looked so delicate in the sky. then, you were startled by a pair of hands wrap around your waist as you felt lips on the nape of your neck. you know who it was without turning around. it was him. but you don’t fully know if it’s him. you turn around to face this man and you were right.

yahya… the one that got away. you guys met through mutual friends who were trying to hook you guys up. a few weeks later, you two started dating. he was amazing. he called you every day to check on you, random flowers, occasional dates. sweetest guy ever. then, he got busy with work and you got busy with work, the two of you barely saw each other. slowly, texting each everyday went to no text for many many weeks. so you two decided with your busy schedules to just be friends.

as you two were facing each other, you don’t speak. just admire each other. you start to think how the hell you went this long without this man. his warm embrace and his touches were the best thing ever in this world. you two dance together to the song. your head resting easily on his chest his arms. you haven’t been this relaxed in a while.

as soon as the song goes off, yahya disappears. you open your eyes and realize you were only daydreaming about him in your lonely apartment. the condensation of the glass now soaking the couch. you shake it off by finishing the rest of your drink and heading to the bathroom to shower. you start playing your shower playlist and get inside. when you turn on the water, you let a sigh out and let the water rain down on your body and lean on the wall.

your thoughts travel to the first time you shower with yahya. you close your eyes again and he’s back in the shower with you. he hold you tightly and you reciprocate the same tight embrace. you look up at him and kisses his chest. he smiles at you and kisses your forehead. then somehow, you pinned against the shower getting dicked down by him. you’re grabbing onto to the shower curtain, screaming, because the pleasure is so unbelievably amazing. he just chokes you and plants his soft lips onto yours to quiet you down. you’re on the verge of coming. he goes deeper and hits your spot until you’re creaming all on his dick.

then… he’s gone again.

y/n … don’t do it. fight it. you don’t miss him. it’s just the alcohol and that horrible ass date.

you try to repeat it to yourself in the shower as you wash your body. you get out the shower, get dressed into this, and do your nighttime routine. when you get done, you go into your room and decide to write out the things you have to do tomorrow. trying to be productive and organize. afterwards, you scroll on instagram and the first post yahya. at a dinner party with your two mutual friend, leilani. they were cuddled up together… and not in a friendly way. your emotion start to show and you’re jealous. you sighs and lay in bed and try to go to sleep. but no matter what, you started feeling him cuffing him, making you miss him more than you think you actually think you do. you sit up in bed and look at the time. 1:30am. finally breaking and deciding you need to talk to him, you grab your phone and a cardigan to wear. heading to the living room, you grab your keys and glasses. you’re heading to the door and you open it and see yahya was about to knock on your door.

“uh… hey y/n.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know it’s late and all but i just really need to talk to you.” you touch his chest and tap him. just to see if he’s real. he chuckles, “are you okay?” you sigh out, “yeah.” you giggle, kind of embarrassed. “this night has been crazy.” you say. “come in. make yourself comfortable.” you say moving out of his way so he could come in.

he comes in and you two sit on the couch staring at each other. “so. how have you been?” he starts off. “i’ve been good. started back writing.” you say. “and yourself?” you add. “that’s good. i’m amazing. finishing up filming with leilani. it’s been really fun.” he smiles really hard. “that’s good.” you say, trying to cover your jealousy. you don’t think he catches on to it but he chuckles, “what’s up?” he asks and you give him a confused look. “what do you mean?” he shrugs a bit, “you just said it dryly like you’re jealous or something.”

you laugh it off but he was spot on. he could always tell your emotions. and you didn’t know if you hated it or loved it but now… you definitely hated it.

“anyways yahya. what are you here for?” you asks him, trying to avoid the question. he breaths in, “y/n … i miss you.” you look at him and you’re super speechless. “what do you mean?” you stumble out somehow. “look… i understand we didn’t have time for each other at one point of time. but i really like you. hell i love you. i can’t even get you out my head.” he says. “you love me? what about leilani?” you ask him and look down. “what about her?” he looks at you confused. “aren’t you two together?” he chuckles and it turns into a laugh. “no, we’re not. it’s just for the movie.” you look down kind of embarrassed. “oh okay.” you smile at him and giggle. “i miss you so much yahya. with everything that’s being going on… it showed me how much i miss you. how much i need you. us breaking up was a mistake. i love you too.” you say, as it feels like 100 bricks has been lifted off your shoulders.

you both admire each other again. eventually, you shy away and look down because you both have been staring too long at each other. he lifts your chin up and caresses your warm cheek with his thumb.

“don’t break contact.” he says, looking into your eyes, more like your soul.

you just nod your head and look at him. eventually, the two of your lips collide with each others. this feeling right here is what you missed. after the kiss, you two catch up with each other some more. with a bottle of wine and some music, the conversation starts to get a little sensual.

“yahya… when is the last time you had sex?” you ask him boldly out of nowhere. he laughs, “well uh, i haven’t had sex since we broke up.” he places his glass down and eyes you down. “did you give my pussy away to someone else?” you astounded at the way he reworded the question, “wow, uh way to throw me off guard.” you giggle. “nope, i didn’t give your pussy away.” he smiles at you, “good girl.” making you bite your bottom lip. “mm … let me put this wine up. it’s a little warm.” you say and head towards the kitchen.

you open the refrigerator and place the wine in there. you close it and before you can turn around you feel those muscular arms wrap around your waist. you smile. his hand begins to fumble with the trim of your romper and his finger starts brushing against your clit. you remove your body from the romper and turn around to face him. he licks his bottom lip, letting you know, it’s about to go down.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ (resume spot)

the time was now 2:30am. the room was filled with skin clapping and moans and groans. you looked back at him. it’s crazy how you were just scared to make eye contact with him a few minutes ago, but now you’re looking back at him with the most sluttiest, lustful eyes. making him know, you want more and he gave your more. a little too much more. you grab his chest and slowly trailed down to his stomach to slow him down a bit. however, he just grabbed both your arms and pinned them to your back.

“fuck! yahya, please it’s too much!” you cry out as he smirks at you. “baby girl, i know you can take this dick.” he grunts out. you sigh and bury your face in the pillow and moan into it. he smacks your ass, “i want to hear you, y/n.” you jump up a bit and bury your face into the pillow again. he shakes his head, “well, you put this one on yourself.”

he pull you up from the pillow by your hair. your back is now on his stomach as he digs deeper inside your pussy. your moan resume filling up the room as you relax your head on his shoulder. he kisses your neck and pulls your waist closer to his, making sure you don’t run from this dick. you grip his muscular arms and dig your nails through them.

“oh! oh! fuck! baby, i’m about to cum.” you squeal out. “cum on this dick, baby. he kisses your neck as you clench tighter and tighter around his dick.

you wet his waist down with your orgasm. you fall back on the the bed and try to relax as he was still fucking you. it wasn’t as aggressive. your throbbing pussy was bringing yahya closer his nut as he hovers over you, planting wet kisses down your back and giving you slow deep strokes. a few seconds later, he pulls out and cums on your back.

“shit, i really needed that y/n.” he says as he smacks your well bruised hand printed ass. “lemme go get you a towel.”

he goes to your bathroom, runs some warm water on two rags, and comes back and cleans his mess off your back. you arch your ass up to stretch like a cat. yahya spreads them cheeks to clean your pussy up from the wet mess you have, but gets distracted by your glistening pussy. he smirk. you look at him.

“oh, no. you’re not eating my pussy again.” you say, but you wiggle your ass at him. he touches your clit and rubs it slowly with his thumb. “oouu, shit, baby. i just said no.” you saying, but both of you already knew you wanted him to eat it again.

he starts having a full blown make out session with your clit. you couldn’t do anything but hang your mouth low and push his head closer to your pussy. he grips your cheeks and spread farther apart from each other and licks up and down. you close your eyes and bite your lip.

“mhm, baby. just like that.” you nod your head and start grinding your lower half into his face.

he grabs your waist and pull you even more closer to him, burying his face in your pussy and starts shaking his head in between your cheeks, getting his nose wet in the process. you couldn’t understand how you just fed this man your pussy almost an hour ago and he’s still eating this motherfucker like he’s hungry. your clit starts to pulsate, meaning it was time to cum again. you sigh as you cum in his mouth this time. you flip on your back and watch as he gets the semi-cold rag. he barely puts it on you, yet you still jump up.

“too cold. too cold.” you hiss out and he laughs. “you want me to just lick the mess up?” he jokingly says. “yeah.” you say laughing.

you didn’t think he would take it serious since you laugh, but he did. you let out a moan and he chuckles and comes up to your face and kisses you sloppily while let you taste yourself on his lips and in his saliva.

“see how good you taste, mamas?” he says after the kiss. “yes.” you smile, giggling at him. you two cuddle for the rest of night and watch the sunrise in the morning and making up for the time lost. then eventually, you both go to sleep.

Next >>

[henneseyhoe]

“Tell daddy you sorry”(request)

Stunna x BLACK!THICK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: toxic!stunna, daddy kink, rough sex, name calling, breeding kink(eh?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

SUMMARY:you fucked somebody else. Stunna ain’t too happy bout it.

Ps. This was (kinda) inspired by we cry together by Kendrick Lamar. I listen to that shit unironically and the ending of the song had me gasping when I first heard it so I had to make a lil drabble lmfao. Also I owed y’all a lil sumn before putting out these other requests and series.

✮✮✮✮

“Now tell daddy you sorry”

“Tell daddy you sorry for givin’ his pussy away” he repeated, his hips colliding into her with force as she whined pathetically, her hands pushing at his hips to keep him from going so deep. She felt defeated in this moment. Weak that not only did she let this nigga back into her house, but she let him back into HER.

Her soft eyes stared up at him, her mouth gaped open with a stupid look on her face, the golden chain he wore around his neck dangling above her, putting the girl in a trance like state with the help of his mad thrusts. One kiss to her lips and she was snapped out of it.

“Fuuuck! I hate you!”

“You do? This pussy looove me, though. Look how wet she is, baby” he says, delivering slow, deep strokes that had her mumbling incoherent words. She couldn’t even lie and say she wasn’t loving every bit of this shit. If she did, her hormones would have made it obvious that she was boldly lying through her teeth, and one thing about Stunna was that he hated a liar, especially a bad one.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her back arched to the sky, the man getting satisfaction out of watching her try to break free from the death grip he had on her thighs. He was surely gonna leave a mark.

“now say sorry”

the logical thing for her to do was comply and do what he told her to do instead of being a brat and refusing again, and she would have said no anyway if her ass wasn’t already sore from the 10 strikings his hand gave her earlier.

“I- I’m so sorry, daddy!”

“You is?”

“Yesss!”

“This pussy mine?”

“Yes! yes! yes!” She chanted, her toes curling.

Stunna smirked. “Obviously he ain’t do a good job if you came back. You love me?”

“Yessss! Give it to me!” She cried, her nails scratching down his back as she took every single inch he gave to her. He spoke no words, just continued to do his damage, aiming for her sweet spot the entire time. The way he was fucking her, you could have sworn he hated her a little, shit, he might after tonight.

Her thighs felt like she had ran a mile, her body not getting time to calm down before another orgasm was upon her. In bliss, she was unaware of the turmoil she had set herself in just by fucking this man once again. And she’d do it again after this too.

“Shit!” He shouted, his jaw clenched as he gripped her thick thighs, bending them back to her chest. If she knew getting fucked this hard would take playing in his face, she would have been broken up with him and using somebodies son as a sex toy.

“Fuuuuck! Fuck me nigga!” she screamed before her voice became hushed, the man responding in harsh slaps to her ass.

“Imma fuck you bitch”

“Fuck meee!”

“Imma fuck you bitch”

They went back and forth till the woman’s legs began to shake violently, her pussy practically choking his dick, just how he wanted it.

“I don’t wanna see you with nobody else unless it’s the baby I put in you”

✮✮✮✮

@chxrryp0p