Your best friend calls, voice raw, and you realize he’s jerking off to you. The call spirals into a dirty, tense back-and-forth—him confessing all the nasty things he wants to do to you, you teasing between sweet and cruel, letting him see just enough to break him. He cums hard for you, then you make him listen while you play with yourself and orgasm. At the very end, you drop the sweetest bomb—and hang up, leaving him ruined, obsessed, and wanting more.
★2,827 words, old story, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), lots of dirty talk, masturbation, praise & a tiny bit of degradation, pet name/name calling (e.g, ma/mama, baby, sweetheart, honey¹, and slut¹), you're a little mean but he likes it, etc★
★18+ 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝑫𝒐 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕★
"Hello?" you call, picking up on the third ring. The room is quiet, the only light the coming from your amber lamp and the blue glow from your screen reflecting off your freshly done nails.
"H-hey," his voice scrapes out on the other end. It’s a wrecked sound—ragged, breathless, and vibrating with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.
Your brows pull tight, a slow worry already beginning to tug at your lips. "Are you okay? You sound... off."
You picture him for a second. Maybe he’s sweaty from a run, his chest heaving under a thin t-shirt. Or maybe he’s been lugging another Amazon dresser for that old lady down the block—always the good guy, always helping somebody. But as you listen to the heavy, rhythmic hitch in his breathing, you realize you’re wrong.
Right now, your best friend is laid out on his bed, the sheets a mess beneath him. His sweatpants and boxers are shoved down to his mid-thighs, his brown skin damp and glowing in the dim light of his room. His stomach is corded, muscles tightening and rippling with every long, desperate drag of his fist. His dick is a dark, heavy weight in his hand—slick, flushed, and dripping through his fingers.
He’s slowly but firmly stroking himself to the thought—and now the sweet, taunting sound—of your voice. Precum is already smeared over his knuckles, his thumb rolling lazy over his slit before pressing harder, coaxing a deep, guttural grunt from his throat.
"Mgh—nothing. Just... talk to me," he rasps, the friction of his hand audible through the speaker.
Your frown deepens, your heart is starting to race. "Why? What’s wrong, baby?"
The pet name slips out easy, unthinking. But the effect is immediate—he moans low, a broken, helpless sound, like you’d reached through the line and wrapped your hand around him yourself. He lives for when your voice turns soft like this, when you stop clowning him and get sweet. His fist moves quicker now, his hips pushing up into his palm, seeking the friction he can’t get enough of.
"I'm fine, I promise. Just keep talking. Please."
You fall quiet for a beat, leaning back against your headboard. You listen harder. You hear the wet, squelching sounds of his grip. The sharp little hitches of breath. The low, animalistic sound he makes when his fist squeezes tighter at the base.
And it clicks.
"...You’re jerking off."
Silence. Just the heavy, frantic sound of his breathing. Then a broken, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah. M'sorry. Can’t stop. Not when it’s you."
Your breath stutters, a prickle of heat blooming low in your belly. "You’re getting off to me? On the damn phone?"
"Every time," he admits, his voice rough and needy, but with a sudden edge of raw honesty. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel the weight of it. "Think about you all the time. That mouth. Those tits. The way your ass looks in those shorts." His pace picks up, the slick, lewd sounds of his hand working his dick filling the line. "Fuck, I’d do anything to see you ride me, just once. Just to see what that look on your face is like when I’m deep inside you."
You bite your lip, your pulse kicking against your throat. "That’s disgusting. Using my voice to get your nut. You’re nasty."
He groans like you’ve just blessed him with a touch. "Yeah, I know. But you're all I think about... you’re the only thing that gets me this hard."
"That's nice, honey. But you really shouldn't think of me like that... you know we're just friends," you murmur, your own hand sliding down to rest heavy on your thigh, the silk of your shorts cool against your palm.
"Don’t say that." His tone cuts sharp now, all the nice playfulness you've come to love is gone. "I’m not your fucking friend. You call me every day. You tell me you love me. I told you from the start—I’m not your friend." His breath hitches, the wet sounds of his fist speeding up, becoming more frantic. "You let me talk to you like this. And you let me—You let me be in your life knowing how I feel about you."
Your acrylic nail drags slow across your bottom lip. "Maybe. But I can't give you what you want, and I do love you, but don't throw it in my face," you drawl, a cruel, satisfied smirk pulling at your mouth.
"It’s kinda sad. Stroking your dick to a girl you’ll never have. We'll never be together. I’ll never let you fuck me. All you get is your hand."
He chokes out a moan, his hips snapping up into his fist with a raw, mechanical rhythm. "Yeah? Then give me something else. Show me. Facetime me, ma. Please."
You hesitate, the heat pooling heavy and agonizing between your thighs. Then, you click over.
The screen flickers to life. His camera is shaking, his breath filling the dark room. Sweat beads at his temples, his face flushed a deep, beautiful bronze, his lips parted. You know that tremor in the camera—it’s the force of his fist moving fast.
"Thank you," he exhales, the word almost reverent as he takes in your appearance.
"Hi, baby. Let me see your face," you don't ask it like a question. You order it.
He obeys instantly. His face fills the screen, his jaw tight and corded, his sharp fade a bit messy from the heat and the friction.
"You look good," you compliment, but the little laugh that follows makes it sting.
"Keep talking." He’s close, you can hear the strain in his voice. "Don't stop."
"I want to see."
He blinks, his eyes glazed and dark. "What?"
"I'm not repeating myself."
He lets out a breathless, desperate laugh, knowing your patience is thin. "Take your shirt off then. Let me see what I'm working for."
You narrow your eyes at the audacity, but you reach down and tug the pajama top off anyway. Your lace bra catches the light, the fabric straining against the fullness of your breasts. You don’t cover yourself; he’s seen you in less, and you want him to see exactly what he’s missing.
"Fuck," he groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated pain. He flips the camera.
Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry. His dick is a complete mess—his fist is working tight and fast, the dark, veined length of him glistening with pre-cum. White streaks of cum are already dried tacky over his thighs from previous rounds, and his stomach is flexing with every pull. His abs are glistening, his skin slick with sweat. His thumb smears a fresh bead of precum over the flushed, velvet head until it gleams, dripping onto his knuckles.
You bite your lip hard, heat twisting through your belly, your shorts already sticking damp between your thighs.
His moan rips through the line, a guttural, animal sound.
You whisper his name, your voice low, trembling, and possessive. "... I really want you in my mouth."
His head snaps back against the pillow, a broken curse ripped from his lungs. "If I had you here? I’d fuck that throat till you cried. Till you gagged around me and begged for air. I’d hold your head and make you take every fucking inch."
You hum, a low, taunting vibration. "You’re not tough enough for that."
That pulls a dark, dangerous laugh from him. His hand works faster, the veins straining down his forearm. "Say that shit again. I’d hold your face down and shove my dick so deep you’ll feel me in your chest. I’ll make you swallow every drop."
Your thighs squeeze together, wetness soaking through the crotch of your shorts. "All talk. You’d fold the second it touched my tongue."
He groans, deep and pained. "God, you drive me fucking insane." His breath stutters, then—"Take your bra off for me. Now."
You tilt your head, slow and teasing. "You want a show?"
"Take it off." His voice is rough, a plea threaded with a hard command.
You hook your fingers into the lace, slipping it down your shoulders, letting it fall. Your breasts sit full and heavy in the camera’s glow, your nipples tight and peaked in the cool air.
He chokes on his own breath. "God, look at you. Perfect. Fucking perfect."
Your fingers lift, tugging lightly at one nipple, rolling it between your fingers. "Like this, baby?"
His hand drags hard down his dick, the slick sound of it filling your ears. "Yeah—play with them for me. Pinch ‘em. Roll ‘em." His eyes roll back for a second, his mouth slack. "Fuck—I wanna cum all over those tits. Paint you, watch it drip down your stomach. You’d look so good messy with my cum."
You coo, your voice dirty and soft. "Yeah, baby? You wanna ruin me like that? Wanna cover me ‘cause I’m yours?" You pinch harder, moaning low. "Mmh, I’d let you do it however you want."
His hips jerk up into his fist, his cock flushed dark, thick, and veined. The head is shiny with slick, and your eyes stay locked on it, transfixed by the weight of him in his palm.
You whisper, almost reverent. "I can’t stop watching your hands. They're so big and veiny. So strong. You're twitching in your grip—look at you, baby. All that for me."
He groans raggedly, his fist slapping wetly down the length of his shaft. "All for you. Always for you." His voice cracks, desperate. "Squeeze 'em, touch your tits harder. Let me see you play with those pretty nipples."
You squeeze your breast, pinch your nipple harder, tugging it until you gasp, your eyes locked on his fist pumping. The sound of it—wet, obscene, skin slapping skin—is the only thing in the world.
"Fuck," he grits out, his voice frayed. "I’d drag you down and smear every drop over you. I wanna fill you up."
You laugh softly, mean but sweet. "Yeah? You’d mark me up? Cover me so everybody knows this pussy’s yours? Even though you’ll never get to fuck it?"
He groans, almost breaking under the weight of the tease. "Stop—don’t say that. I’d fuck you stupid, ma. I’d split you open. Make you cry for me."
You hum, stroking your breast with slow, deliberate circles. "I bet you would. But right now? All you’ve got is your hand. And me watching."
His grip tightens, his strokes becoming rough and fast. His stomach flexes, his breath tearing ragged from his chest. You lean close to the screen, your voice low and syrup-thick.
"Cum for me, baby."
He moans, a high, guttural sound.
"Yeah," you coax, squeeze your breast, shifting them again, "make a mess for me. Let me see you shoot it all over yourself. Come on. Show me how much you want me."
"Fuck—" His hips stutter up into his fist. Precum spills slick down his shaft, his knuckles shiny and wet.
"Begging you, sweetheart," you whisper, cruel and filthy. "Paint yourself for me. Cover that stomach, those big hands—show me what I do to you."
He chokes, his eyes squeezing shut, his jaw locked tight as his body begins to coil for the release. "M’close—oh fuck, I’m gonna—"
"Do it," you purr, sharp and commanding. "Cum for me, baby. Now."
His whole body jerks. A shout rips from his throat, raw and primal, as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his hand, his chest, dripping down his stomach in heavy white streaks. He pumps through the release, groaning brokenly, the cum splattering messy and hot across his skin.
You sigh, watching the way it looks against his skin, your voice turning sweet again. "That’s it. Good boy. Look at that dick, dripping for me. You made such a mess."
He’s panting, ruined, his hand still twitching around his softening length. "Fuck... fuck, I love you."
You tilt the camera, watching him still sprawled—sweat dripping, stomach streaked with cum, hand twitching.
"Mmh," you hum, soft and wicked, "look what you did, baby. Got me all wet."
His head snaps up, eyes heavy but blazing. "Show me."
You smirk, slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, dragging the damp fabric aside. Glossy, honey-thick strings pull as you spread yourself open, the phone angled just enough to flash him a glimpse of your soaking wet center. "See that? All for you."
He groans, his chest heaving. "Touch it for me. Play with yourself—please, ma."
Your laugh is low and cruel. "Not a chance. You already got your show."
His jaw tightens, his voice rough. "Don't play with me. You don't let me watch, I'll make you beg next time. I'll make you sorry."
You lean close to the screen, your smirk sharp and triumphant. "Try me. You don't scare me, baby. I said no."
His fist curls against his stomach, frustration pouring through the camera. "Then... at least—fuck—at least let me listen. Please. Let me hear it."
You bite your lip, dragging your fingers slow through your slickness, making yourself whimper. "You’re nasty."
"Yeah," he rasps, desperate. "For you. Only for you."
You sigh, soft and sweet, pressing two fingers against your clit until your hips twitch. "Fine. You can listen. But that’s it. Just your ears."
Your moans slip out, low and syrupy, filling the line. His breath shudders at the sound, ruined but hungry again. Your fingers circle your clit, the wet, squelching sounds of your own pleasure bleeding into the line. You bite your lip, letting a whimper slip, knowing he’s eating every sound alive.
"That’s it," he rasps, his voice still raw from cumming. "Rub that pretty pussy for me. God, I wanna be there so bad—wanna hold your thighs open and eat you till you’re crying."
Your head tips back, your breath shaky. "Mghn—You talk so nasty, baby."
"You don’t even know," he grits out. "I’d spread you out and pound that pussy till you scream. I’d fuck you till you smell like me. I'd never let you leave the bed."
A moan rips out of you, high and breathless. Your fingers circle faster, your hips rolling up off the bed as the tension coils.
"You like that?" he groans. "Knowing how bad I want you? Tell me you’ll give it up one day. Tell me I’ll get to fuck you for real."
Your laugh cuts sharp and shaky. "N-No, baby. You’ll never have me like that."
He curses, a guttural sound of frustration. "Fuck. You’re killing me, ma."
Your moans rise, sharper now, your body coiling tight. "Keep talking. Don't stop."
He obeys, his voice a low, gravelly anchor. "I’d hold your hips down. Spit in your mouth while I fuck you raw. Fill you up and make you go for hours."
That does it—your back arches, your thighs clenching tight as your orgasm rips through you. A sharp cry tears from your throat, your fingers working frantically over your clit as waves of pleasure slam through your body. You gasp his name, shuddering and trembling, your juices dripping messy against your hand.
He groans raggedly, listening to the sound of your break like it’s gospel. "That’s it—fuck, that’s it. Cum for me. Good girl. Good fucking girl."
You collapse back, chest heaving, sweat dampening your skin. You let out a low, satisfied hum. "Oh, shit... see what you did? You made me cum, handsome."
His breath hitches on the other end, broken and reverent. "...I’d do anything to see that."
Your breathing slows, your chest still rising and falling heavy. Your fingers slip from your soaked folds, leaving a wet sheen on your thighs. The line is quiet except for the sound of you both catching your breath.
He’s the first to break it, his voice ragged. "Man... I swear, one day—"
You cut him off with a sweet, dismissive little laugh, curling back into your pillow and pulling the covers up. "Shh. Don’t start again."
The silence stretches, thick and heavy with the things he wants to say. You can feel the ache in his voice, how close he is to spilling confessions you aren't ready to hear. So you give him something else. Something cruel, but honest.
"Thank you," you murmur, soft and sweet. Almost tender. "I love you so much, baby."
The phone goes quiet. You can picture him—eyes wide, lips parted, his heart clenching around those words. You know exactly what you’ve done to him.
You smile to yourself, curling the blanket over your bare chest. "Good night."
And you hang up before he can even find his voice to answer.
summary: Drunk!Mike gets Sober!Mike in trouble with his (strict) wife.
warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut (i got possessed while writing this omg don’t banish me pls guys), d/s dynamics, sub!michael, face sitting, oral (f receiving) established relationship, begging, crying, minor degradation, praise kink, panty sucking, pet names, no use of y/n, michael is a MUNCH, mean ass wife makes another appearance
based on this request (which is based off of this blurb)! thank you to whoever sent it in. 💚 proofread but im human so mistakes happen. fuck ai. i don’t know that bitch.
dividers by @pixopix
The brothers, minus Marlon and Randy, stood in a line before you. They had varying expressions of boredom on their faces, except your sweet angel baby Michael. He looked at you like you hung the moon and stars — nothing out of the ordinary.
It was Tito’s thirty-second birthday so the guys wanted to all go out to a club to celebrate. Totally fine by you, however, you weren’t about let them go crazy with your man in tow. You were reasonable enough not to tag along because you understood it was a boys night but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to have something to say.
“Now, before you heathens cart my hubby off, I have a few ground rules.” You ticked things off your fingers.
Predictably, Jermaine was the loudest to disagree and you proceeded to ignore him.
“Do not let women dance all over Michael. And if you think I won’t find out, trust me, I will.”
“Do not allow him to be swarmed by fans. You know he gets overwhelmed. Better turn into bodyguards or I will have something to say!”
“She was gone have something to say regardless,” Tito muttered out the side of his mouth. You ignored him too.
“Lastly, and this is the most important one so listen closely. Do not bring this man back to me drunk as a skunk. We have an important event to attend mid morning tomorrow and if he can’t go because he’s hungover, the Jacksons will feel my wrath for generations,” you finished with a smile. Hands clasped in front of you, you met each of their eyes.
“We clear?” They stared at you blankly.
Jackie cleared his throat and spoke softly, “Baby girl, he’s grown man. I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself.”
You slid up to him, looking up to meet his eyes. Cocking your head to the side, you gave him a closed-mouth smile.
“Sigmund, how eager are you to see the underside of my 1984 Pontiac? Be honest.”
He swallowed, clenching his jaw. You patted his cheek condescendingly. Jermaine’s spray bottle laugh cut through the air. Michael covered his mouth, giggling.
“I’ll take that to mean yes, we’re clear. And you, my baby love, better act right too. You know you can’t hold your liquor.” You kissed Michael and shooed them out the door.
By 2:46am, you sat on the staircase in the entrance hall of Hayvenhurst with narrowed eyes. Michael didn’t need to be out this late. You inhaled sharply through your nose seeing headlights pull into the drive way. Your babydoll night dress pooled around your thighs.
You only caught a snippet of the muffled chatter as you climbed the stairs to you and Michael’s room.
“Dammit, Tito, grab his arm.”
“That girl is gonna kill us.”
“Us? More like she gone hit me with her car. My legs just stopped hurting during thunderstorms.”
“Psssh, she ain’t gone do shit. She all talk, trust.”
“Mike! Lower your voice, man. I know she got ears everywhere.”
You nodded your head before you entered the bedroom. Their voices faded but that particular distinctive one replayed like a broken record.
“She ain’t gone do shit. She all talk.”
“All talk huh? Guess we’ll see about that,” you chuckled darkly as you snuggled on your side of the bed.
With your back to him, you pretended to be asleep when Michael finally managed to drag himself to bed. His drunk ass tried to cuddle with you but you scooted until you were nearly on the edge of the bed. He eventually went back to his side and was asleep in mere seconds.
A plan was formulated with the last tendrils of thought in your mind before you drifted off.
After two days of ignoring him and being pestered by his groveling, you eventually snapped. You sent him upstairs to strip nude, sit on the bed and to not touch himself. You finished the chapter of the book you were reading and took a long shower.
He waited…
And waited…
You knew he was in agony.
When you stepped out the steamy bathroom, a deep groan rumbled in his chest. You paid him no mind. The maddeningly slow pace at which you moved to lotion yourself had him in tears.
“Mama please…”
About five minutes in, you stuffed a dirty pair of panties in his mouth. He shuddered as his animated eyes rolled back. You heard him moaning as he sucked on two day old underwear and smirked.
There he sat, naked, back against the headboard with his wrists tied together with pantyhose and his legs spread. His body was taut with tension. His dick was so hard it stood straight up and it weeped, heavily.
The muffled cries thrilled you as you paced in front of the bed. Your blow out was pulled back into two low buns opening your face up with two thick strands curling around your cheeks. The black lingerie clung to your tits and ass like a second skin. Michael’s watery eyes followed the switch in your hips as though he was hypnotized.
You stopped at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms, pushing up your breasts.
“She ain’t gone do shit… that’s what you said, Mikey,” you pouted.
He shook his head with wide eyes. His pleads blocked by the fabric.
“Yes, you did. I heard you. You calling me a liar?”
He shook his head again. You clicked your tongue in disappointment.
“She all talk… You said that too. You don’t remember?”
He uttered something that sounded like, “No.” His hips bucked and his hard-on twitched.
“Hmm. That’s convenient. S’alright because mama is gonna get you right, baby. You want me to touch you?”
Michael nearly broke his neck shaking this head this time. You arched a sculpted brow.
“No?” Your knees dipped into the comforter as you crawled to his trembling body. He spit the panties in your hand and they were soaked.
You tutted at him. “The world would never believe me if I told them Michael Jackson was a nasty ass dirty panty sucking freak.” You laughed a little. “But that’s alright. It’ll be our little secret, pretty boy.” You kissed his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.
“I want—“ He whimpered, biting his lip. “I want you to sit on my face.”
“Oh?” You scoffed, “And you think you deserve that after going out and getting drunk after I told you not to? I was embarrassed at my event, standing there all by myself while everybody and they momma kept asking me where my husband was. You promised me, Mikey!”
“I know, mama. M’sorry. Please let me make it up to you. I love you. I love you. I’ll be good— I’ll be a good boy.” Tears streaked down his striking cheekbones.
You grabbed his chin, and swiped his quivering bottom lip with your manicured thumb.
“You wanna be my good boy?”
“I do… So bad,” Michael whined pitifully.
You loved him like this. It made your heart soar. Your thumb slipped into his mouth, “Suck. Show me how good you gone eat on this pussy, baby.”
He went to work. Licking and sucking like it was his chosen profession. You imagined that’s what he planned to do to your clit and arousal flooded your lace panties. He’d probably want to suck on those too.
You popped your thumb free and traced his lips with it, coating them in his saliva. You pat his cheek lovingly and he leaned into it adorably.
Once you commanded him to lie down, you straddled his face with ease and he gasped seeing your lace clad cunt. The area surrounding it was wet with your slick and he licked his lips.
“No hands.”
“Yes, mama,” he choked out. The horny taking over his brain. His pupils were blown wide and the Michael Jackson the world knew was no longer present.
“You smell so good,” he murmured as if intoxicated.
“And taste even better. But you knew that, ain’t that right sweet boy?” You exhaled shakily, tightening your core muscles.
You reached down and pulled your panties to the side and delicately lowered yourself onto his awaiting mouth. You gasped when he began lapping at you, tongue flat along your folds. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, making you roll your hips against his face.
He scraped his teeth over your sensitive bud. Groaning, you tossed your head back as he dragged his tongue to your entrance, dipping inside it. Your slick coated every inch of his mouth and he drank his fill.
“Ooh, Mikey, you’re doing so good, my love. Such a good boy.”
The praise sent him into a frenzy. His tongue was insistent as it drilled inside you. He shook his face into your pussy, nose flicking your clit and attempting to drown himself in your wet heat. He curved his tongue to collect your nectar like a dehydrated man.
“That’s it. I’m almost there. Keep going. I love this. I love you so much,” you moaned deliriously. This was truly the fruit of your labor after having taught him how to pleasure you when you two started dating.
With the renewed enthusiasm, he attacked your pussy like it owed him money. Your thighs shook and you knew your orgasm was near. You didn’t have to turn around to know he was thrusting into the air. The pitch of his moans told you that his was budding too, and completely untouched at that.
You bucked into his mouth one last time and came with a filthy squeal. He sucked and drank up what he could. He was a fiend for it. Your release rolled down his cheeks and chin.
“F-fuck!” He growled into your pussy as your climax triggered his own.
Your stomach trembled as you fought to not smother him completely. You turned your head just in time to catch his stiff dick erupting violently. The sight making your mouth fall open because it might’ve been the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You bit your lip watching the thick pearly liquid slide down his slowly softening shaft.
In a flash, you were eye to eye with his dick.
“Baby, you did so good. My good boy. Let mama clean you up, mmkay?”
His head lolled to the side and his eyes had glazed over.
You breathed in deeply. The raw smell of him sent your eyes fluttering shut and you cleaned him up with your tongue, savoring the taste of his cum. You licked from his balls to the pretty sensitive mushroom tip.
“No more, pretty girl. It’s too much,” he whimpered at the contact.
You grinned then gave the head one last kiss and licked your lips. You untied his wrists and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest.
One of his large hands gripped your ass and the other tapped your chin. You lifted your face and he attached his shiny lips to your own. You instantly deepened the kiss and moaned tasting yourself on his tongue.
“I really am sorry, baby. I swear I wasn’t trying to go overboard but my brother… he kept handing me drinks and I didn’t want to say no. I thought it would be rude.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.
“It’s alright, Mikey. I forgive you,” you sighed.
He popped your meaty thigh. “You know I hate it when you ignore me like that, sassy girl. You gotta cut that out and just talk to me.”
“Maybe someday — not this day or tomorrow or the next day or any of those days after that but… someday! So that gives us something to look forward to, baby!” You tapped his chest with smile. He barked out a sharp laugh.
There was silence in the post-coital bliss. You focused on the rhythm of his heartbeat and noted that his breathing was evening out.
One thing kept replaying in your mind though and it wouldn’t allow you to fully relax. It was going to eat you up if you didn’t know.
“And which brother was it that kept handing you drinks?” Your voice sliced through the silence.
“Don’t start,” Michael groaned.
“Hey, I’m not the one who started it. One of you no good brothers started it.” You shrugged your shoulders.
“Please don’t lose your mind when I tell you. And I’m only telling you because I know you won’t drop it. Stubborn little thing you are.”
“Are you saying you married me for anything else?”
“Girl, you see all this ass you got?”
“Michael! Quit stalling!”
He groaned, rubbing his face in exasperation.
“He’s gonna get me, oh my gosh. It was… Jackie.”
“Oh, I’m putting belt to ass next time I see him!” You sat up so quickly, it made him flinch back. “He better lay low for a while, I swear.”
Michael snatched you back to his body and held you tight to him. He snickered into your skin and whispered nothing but love and affection into your ear until he fell asleep with you in his arms. Sleeping well for the first time in two days.
first request yay!! and first time writing male sub anything omg. hopefully it wasn’t complete shit from a butt!! let me know if you liked it! this was fun to write. 💚
a/n: yes it took me 2 months to finish this..yes I got lazy at the end..
The penthouse was quiet except for the soft click of Ony’s dress shoes against the marble floor.
He loosened his tire as he walked in, exhausted from a 14 hour day, only to find you sitting in the living room, a glass of untouched wine on the table beside you.
“So we just gon’ act like everything’s fine?” You asked playing with your long French tip stilettos, he stopped. “I just got home.”
“Exactly.”
The tension hung thick between you two. Ony ran a tatted hand over his face, already knowing that this wasn’t going to be a simple conversation. “You seeing other bitches?”
“So you starting this shit again”
“I’m not starting anything I asked you a question”
“If I was, I wouldn’t still be married to yo ass would I” Ony says sternly.
“So an affair?
He chucked, almost like his ego was hurt “I don’t have time for this shit” he walked off, but you were immediately behind him “oh so i’m right then” you taunted him. “You always walking away when a conversation get too real for you to handle.” “You been drinkin.” You paused for a second— then you laughed, offended “please, I bearly had shit to drink”
He stopped and turned back to you. His controlled expression now faded into irritation. “I’m not about to argue with you about dumb shit right now.”
You walked closer to him bodies touching, feeling the heat radiating of eachother— “well I want to.”
“Fuckkk.. Ony” you moaned as Ony’s fingers were buried deep inside you, “you wanna argue so let’s argue”. “I...ohmygosh..” Ony’s finger curled up inside of you hitting your spot over and over, your legs shutting closed together on impulse .
“Open them legs and look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Ony flips you over on your hands and knees so now your were facing the full length mirror that sat in front of the bed. He slid a tatted hand around your throat while the other had a firm grip on his monster ass dick as he swiped it up and down in your wetness.
He swirls it around your clit one last time before putting in in one swift go ripping a ragged mown from your throat, “oh..shitt..!” ain’t pounded into you from the back with a relentless pace, your eyes flutter shut as Ony was rearranging your guts
He gave you a smack on your asscheek “keep yo eyes on the mirror, see what im doin’ to you?” He grunted . You nodded like a bitch in heat, tears started flowing down your cheeks, his hand found its way into your hair and held a firm grip on it.
“I asked you sum.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Yess..!you fuckin me so good…! Mmng..” you whined out.
“Yeah?… Look at you, you think I’m fuckin anybody this pretty? Think this ain’t yo dick mama? Huh?” His strokes became rougher while he asked you a series of questions, you mindlessly babbled out words both of you could understand. Loud obscene wet noises filled the room as your cream coated Ony’s dick.
“Fuck..” you and Ony make eye contact in the mirror, sweat beads in his forehead and eyebrows completely furrowed as if he was focused— taking you all in.
“O-onyy..fuckk I’m gonna cum..” yo
“Cum on this dick baby” Ony talked and fucked you through your orgasm, just as he was about to cum he pulled out your legs gave out as you lied flat on your stomach still having having aftershocks of your orgasm.
He got off the bed and stood in front of you his dick overshadowing your face “I’m not don’t with you yet get on yo knees”
You weakly got on your knees and swirled your tongue around his tip before sinking down on the whole thing and coming by back up you repeat the same actions while hallowing your cheeks
“Fuck baby that’s right..” he let out a low groan while resting his hand on the back of your head.
You wrapped your hands around his dick to help you get the length you couldn’t reach, you looked up at him and he was totally gone,
“M’ bout to nut..” he said in a shaky groan, he pulled you off him and started jerking himself off.
“Fuck open ya mouth..”
You obliged as he nutted all over your tongue and your face.
𐔌 5.9K 𐦯 • 𝘕𝘖 𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘚.ᐟ | 𝑷𝒍𝒖𝒈.ᐟ𝑶𝒏𝒚, CollegeAU, mention of drugs (weed), or*l (m. receiving), face-f*cking (slightly rough, lots of gagging, very messy—does this count as oral fixation?), f*ngering, implied p -> v s*x, dirty talk, slight degradation, corruption of mc, inexperienced mc, mc goes in sub-space (unknowingly), mc gets d*ck-drunk, minor BDSM dynamics, subtle size k*nk, gentle/caring Ony, nonchalant Ony, teasing Ony, slow-build interest, nicknames (Mama & Princess), explicit language, use of the n-word (all characters & Author are Black)
PART 1 ୨ৎ PART 3
decided to be nice & give y'all a mini drabble of them. enjoy .ᐟ <3
ᝰ♡.ᐟ IT ISN'T COMPLETELY DARK OUT YET AS THE GOLDEN ORANGE hue of the setting sun splashes across the entire campus.
Even with the significant lack of people strolling the brick-laid pathways, Onyankopon doesn't neglect to keep an eye out for campus officers. He doesn't need anything on his record, not when the semester's just begun.
He figured he would be back in his car by now, speeding off to his apartment. Not still standing here.
This was supposed to be quick.
“A'ight man, how much I owe you again?” Standing about two feet in front of him, his customer glances up, tearing his vision away from the crumpled bills in his hands.
Onyankopon almost kisses his teeth.
"Seventy-five."
He swears he said that number about five times since this interaction began.
"A'ight, got you…"
Crumpled paper flicks noisily as the client thumbs through the stack of random bills; fives, tens, and a whole lot of ones.
There's a faint, sour scent emanating off of the guy whenever he sways just a bit too much in his spot; dried sweat. It only adds to Onyankopon's growing irritation.
"Y-yo … I, uh … only got about forty-three cash, bro."
The feeble way in which he looks at him almost makes Onyankopon irate.
'This nigga,' he thinks.
A heavy sigh pushes past his lips, an urge he could no longer resist. "Just send the rest through Zelle or Cash App."
"Bet," the man says as he shoves the hand full of money his way.
Onyankopon gingerly takes the damp cash and pockets it quickly. With free hands, his customer frantically pulls out his phone to continue the transaction.
"Uh—h-how much?"
Onyankopon stares at him square in the face. "Whatever's left after forty-three dollars."
“Chill,” his client says with a shaky chuckle.
He's trying, he really is. Annoying clients come with the territory, especially when it comes down to dealing with a bunch of smokers.
Usually, he'd have more patience for this kind of thing. But, today he's pressed for time. Especially since he's got royalty blowing up his line, demanding his presence. 'Her impatient ass,' he thinks as his phone buzzes in his pocket, getting it's second message within the last hour.
Since their first time hooking up, Onyankopon won't deny the fact that Ámerei has been his main fix—on campus, at least.
After finals, they exchanged numbers, but it was radio silence between them during summer break. Understandably. She had her own life outside of school, and he had his own shit to take care of back home.
There were no ill sentiments between the two, just a mutual understanding of where this situation of theirs starts and ends: at school.
So, he wasn't surprised when she hit him up within the first month of this fall semester. He had stopped by at her new dorm—a single—and gave her what she timidly asked for.
And he gave it to her good. Maybe seeing her brought it out of him or maybe it was just the perfect chance to release some built up pressure.
Admittedly, when it comes to messing around with Ámerei, Onyankopon can appreciate the ease that comes with her. There weren't sneaking around anyone's back to do this. Additionally, the clarity she possesses regarding this entire thing is a breath of fresh air. She isn't blowing up his phone, demanding him to do things that fall within the realm of being a "significant other."
Honestly, she doesn't even ask him much about himself. Neither does he.
Compared to some of the other girls he's been with, she's definitely someone he doesn't have to stress out over.
However, even with the general ease of their situation-ship, it seems that he's created a little bit of a monster.
Are you busy?
Onyankopon..
I want to see you
He was in the car, on the way to this deal when the first message was read aloud to him.
She has a habit of hitting him up while he's in the middle of doing something or just so happens to be on his way out of the door. And despite being a recurring interruption to his plans, it always brings him a sense of fondness.
Despite the growing frequency of their meetups, Onyankopon believes that Ámerei isn't someone he'll grow tired of. He can't explain it, but he knows that she's just nice to be around. Cool.
His brain was silent while he tried to decide if he wanted to do this today.
He did.
It wasn't until he reached a red light, that he picked up his phone, allowing himself a weak smirk as he typed a response.
Uu wanna see my dicc
Her reply was instant:
That's not the same thing?
A small scoff left him as the traffic light ahead changed. Against his better judgment, he elected to split his attention in two places: the road and his phone.
Making plays rn
Uu cld wait ?
I'm with the girls at the apartment
Let me know when you get back
He loved the message, quickly dropping his phone in his lap.
Although, unlike other times, his brain didn't immediately drop the conversation. Rather, he kind of toiled over it for a minute or two, sparing an unnecessary amount of time on a particular idea: being considerate.
But, was it consideration? Or was that just his usual standard about punctuality?
Come another red light, Onyankopon chose to put those thoughts to rest. He never liked being in his head about someone for too long. When it comes to matters regarding people, it's either you do or you don’t.
So, he did.
Picking up his phone, his thumb slid across his keyboard in a quick pattern. He didn't even have to glance at the screen to send the short message.
Gimme a hr
She loved the message.
That conversation was definitely had over an hour ago and he's still not back home, at no fault of his own.
"I think the money sent."
Hands buried in the pockets of his sweats, Onyankopon gives the man a brief "Mhm," as he stares him down. He waits patiently for his phone to buzz with the notification of the money entering his account.
And when it does—because he needs to make sure that he's not being cheated put of his product, no matter how many times this guy has bought from him—only then does he give him what they came here for: the weed.
"Thank you so much, bro," he rushes out.
Onyankopon doesn't spare a word, let alone a glance, as he heads back to his car thinking:
'Finally.'
Hopping back in the driver's seat, he pulls the car door shut after him. He wastes no time in pulling out his phone.
So ... it's been an hour.
K...
His fingers move quick.
My fault ik
Nigga was moving slow
Im comin dnt trip
He scoffs at his last message. When has he ever explained himself this much?
The trip back to his apartment is faster than it took for him to go out and meet his customer.
Comin up rn be at the door
It takes all of six minutes for him to enter the building to reach his floor. Leaving the elevators behind, he turns down the long hallway, already seeing the short and slim figure waiting at his door.
Phone in hand, too concerned with whatever it is on her screen to watch her surroundings, she doesn't even notice him coming.
Ámerei stands with majority of her weight on one leg, her hip poking out to accentuate her subtle curves. There's a disruption on her face; a wrinkle of her brows.
She looks upset.
She looks good.
"Y'know, I could'a been anybody walking up on you."
Her head snaps up. The sable strands of her silk press falls away from her face to showcase the moment of recognition that flashes across it, just before it's overtaken by irritation. She opens her mouth.
"Before you even start, it wasn't me." He's already fishing for his apartment keys.
"What does that mean?" She raises a perfectly trimmed brow, eyeing him with skepticism.
“The nigga was doing too much," he says, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "I'm here though, so we not tripping'.”
He pushes the door open, allowing her first, as always. Ámerei's lips are sealed shut, shooting him a glare as she slips past him.
“Mhm.”
Just as she turns her head forward, Onyankopon leaving her line of sight, a heavy hand pops her on the left side of her ass.
"What the fuck," she yelps, whipping around to face him. The sharp sting blooms into a hallow ache beneath her skin as she rubs the spot.
He tries to stifle the growing smirk on his face as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Got too much attitude."
“You were late, mind you,” she sneers, pointing a square acrylic nail into the bed of his chest.
"Eager, ain't you?"
She notices the strong arms circling her waist, yet neglects to acknowledge them.
Arms crossed, she's the epitome of a pretty girl with an attitude. Hair done, nails perfect, and a fresh set of lashes decorating her pretty brown eyes.
And, irritated or not, her gaze is a lot more seductive. He knows that if he makes mention of her saditty demeanor, he'll only rile her up more.
“I can go."
His eyes narrow by a fraction as he stares down at her. “But—" his hands slip from her waist to the perch of her ass. “You gon' stay.”
Her mouth opens to spit back a retort.
"And lose that attitude, 'cause you still getting what you want."
Before she can even think of a response to that one, Onyankopon drops his lips on hers; that conversation is done. In his grasp, she practically melts. The familiarity of his lips is too comforting for her to resist.
He has to admit, Ámerei has gotten better at kissing. A lot better. His favorite thing about that is her newfound affinity for sucking.
In fact, his tongue is almost always the first thing she goes for.
One last peck on the lips precedes a swipe over his bottom lip, coaxing him into a deeper kiss. Before he can even realize it, she's pushing her tongue into his mouth in search of his.
Her hands, soft and reaching, find the sides of his face to keep his head tilted so that she may get more access. He taught her that one.
To his own demise (benefit), every time she's got her lips wrapped around his tongue, it puts a fire in him that wakes him up below the belt. They're moving before he can even comprehend this, too busy feeling on her ass.
"—damn."
His body drops to the couch, slightly bouncing against the cushions. He barely manages to look up at her when she's climbing into his lap. Her eyes burn with lust.
"You moving like you … controlling shit." He's breathless watching her, hands coming to rest on her hips as she takes her seat.
Speaking of hands, hers press to his chest as she leans in for another kiss. His breath is stolen away for the second time in just two minutes.
"Mh … you smelled good," she moans against his mouth.
"I—"
She leaps at the chance to get to his tongue. And—unsurprisingly—she's sucking at him again, like he's a ripe berry, full of juice and ready to burst in her mouth.
His spit is sweet.
"'Preciate—" The half of his sentence that comes out is garbled by their kiss.
She only pulls away to whisper in his ear. "Taste good, Ony."
When she pulls back, and he can finally look her in the eyes, he's almost—scared?
This is not the shy virgin he met only a handful of months ago.
"Yeah?" He shifts upwards a bit, thinking of a way to regain control over this situation.
"Mhm," she nods. The hum is practically a moan, heavy and dragging.
Onyankopon takes this moment to look over her body.
It's just dipping back into the cooler seasons, on the cusp of fall. Yet, enough of her skin is exposed by an off-the-shoulder cropped crew-neck that it can make anyone think otherwise. And not to mention, the ridiculously thin gray leggings that don't hide much.
"I got something that taste better."
Her vixen-like demeanor flickers as her thoughts flash across her face. "What's that?" she asks.
"Ms. 4.0 GPA, c'mon now." A grin spreads across his face.
She rolls her eyes, but the heat has been snuffed out. "And if I'm not good at it?"
He scoffs. "You wasn't good at kissing, neither."
She scowls.
"You getting better every time." Amusement is written all over his face. It's almost irritating. "This gon' be the same thing, I promise you."
She averts her eyes as she starts thinking; this isn't the first time he's alluded to wanting head. It's not like she doesn't want to give it. It's more of a question of, can she?
Probably.
But, can she do it as well as the other girls he's been with?
Definitely not.
That's always a looming fear of hers.
She can hardly bear the thought of performing poorly, and being dubbed the one who "couldn't give good head" or who "had weak pussy;" a story to tell his friends in the group chat.
For the most part, that fear is quelled, just on account of him not really being a piece of shit.
An asshole at times, sure. But, not a douche-bag. And, save for their first time ever doing something together, Onyankopon has never directly spoke about other women he's been with. He doesn't even speak about people he knows.
She can respect the fact that he's not a pillow-talker. But she can only hope that he's not just trying to put on an act.
She tries not to worry too much about it. Outside of these links, their lives are completely detached. They don't even run in the same circles.
"Why you scared? I ain't been a good teacher?"
"Shut up," she laughs, giving him a gentle push to the chest.
For a moment, she's quiet as she thinks to herself, chewing on her bottom lip as she does so.
"We can try," she nods. "But, don't expect me to be amazing," she says as she starts sinking to the ground between his thighs.
"Woah, wait—" he catches her by the waist, stopping her just before her knees hit the floor.
"Wha—d-don't I have to get on my knees?"
"Do you wanna be on your knees?"
She blinks, stunted by the question. "I … don't I have to?"
His brows lift by a fraction. "You don't have to do nothing. I asked if you wanna be. It's other positions."
"Um…" She glances at the hardwood floor beneath them, weighing her options. "Y-yeah. Yes, I do."
He shrugs, gently removing his hands from her to sit back. "A'ight then."
Carefully, she makes contact with the ground, her kneecaps pressing into the floor. Lengthy, strong legs cage her in, but it doesn't feel like a trap.
Before she has to ask, he's pushing his pants down some. But, of course, he's not going to do everything for her.
Not even when she stares up at him, expecting him to pull down his boxers, too, and whip it out for her. She looks perfect down there.
"What you staring for?"
She glances at his lap, eye-level with his print as it strains against the breathable fabric, pressed to the inner wall of his right thigh. She looks back up at him, like she expects something new. Like she doesn't know what comes next.
"Take it out for me, Ámerei."
The firm tone of his voice makes her stomach flutter.
Without a word, both her hands snake up the stalks of his calves, past his knees, and over his thighs. Her fingers are soft, the pads of them tickling his skin as she nears the object of her desire.
With a quick swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip, Onyankopon pushes his hips forward as she finally hooks onto the waistband of his underwear.
Inwardly, Ámerei prays that he doesn't notice the excited tremor of her hands as she pulls the fabric back to reach inside.
The skin there is warm, hot blood racing just beneath its surface to fatten up his dick. She traces one finger down to the middle of his shaft, where she weakly curls her hand around him. She barely squeezes as she picks him up, revealing just a little more past the fat tip.
She isn't surprised by the heaviness, but it does make her rethink her ability to swallow him down.
"Why you so focused already?"
His chuckle pulls her gaze upwards, seeing the entertained look on his face. She crumbles into awkward laughter. "I wanna make sure I'm doing it right."
"Ain't no wrong way to pull my dick out." He sniffs, shifting his hips in a way that pushes his dick further in her face. Her eyes slightly cross trying to keep him in her line of sight. "You doing good, Ami. Quit all that thinking, don't freeze up on me now."
His words, spoken to her low and slow, make her heart beat quicken. She nods loosely, staring up at him with eyes that don't conceal the dazed look in them.
Every time they're together, he notices that after a certain point, it's like a switch flips off in her head. It gets more noticeable every time.
Encouraged by him, she pulls him out of his boxers entirely. The familiar sight never fails to make her drool.
So thick in her hand, she runs her thumb over the web of veins pumping beneath his skin—more visible as it's pulled taut by his arousal. He isn't leaking yet, like his body is waiting on her touch. She can feel his pulse faintly. Tiffany blue acrylic nails compliment his deep brown skin as it fades from a blushing brown to a solid, deep umber.
Every moment she gets to witness him up close, Ámerei can't help but to think that he's just so … pretty.
She's always wanted to kiss it. To feel him throb against her lips.
Her thoughts are interrupted when there's a gentle squeeze of her jaw.
"Missed this shit, didn't you?"
She nods.
"Mhm," he hums, noting how she gazes at him with a renewed sense of hunger. "Go on, eat the dick up." He pulls his hand away.
Without a second thought, she leans forward and plants a gentle smooch on the fat head. He's hot against her skin. Even though she had imagined this happening, surprise takes her when he twitches against her. In her hand, he stiffens further.
A pleased hum leaves her. Tepid, she pushes her tongue past her lips to finally get a taste. His skin is silk soft on her taste buds. He has a mild taste, barely sweet.
That makes it too easy to have more of him in her mouth; she goes for another lick, this one bolder in action as she tastes more of the skin covering his crown. It was all she needed to gain the confidence to take him into her mouth, closing her lips around the swollen head.
"A natural, already," he exhales.
She peers up at him through those perfect, wispy lashes. Her mouth sinks slightly lower. The slippery muscle of her tongue curls around the tip before she traps him between the bed of it and the roof of her mouth to suck. Her usually round, soft cheeks hallow out.
"Good job, mama."
Her eyes flutter shut as her mouth sinks lower around him, a quiet hum of contentment coming from the back of her throat.
The ghost of a smirk haunts his lips. "You like that?"
Peeling her eyes open, Onyankopon immediately notices how they look glossed over. Her full lips are stretched around his thickness, unable to stop the drool escaping past their corners. With a stuffed mouth, she only nods.
"Talk to me."
For a moment, he thought she would have attempted to speak around him. The thought makes him twitch in her mouth.
Except, Ámerei pulls off of him, the softness of her hand replacing the wet heat of her mouth as she jerks him off.
"I liked it," she breathes out. Her hand moves at a slightly rushed pace, gliding over the tight skin. He keeps twitching. It makes her giddy, taking this as a good sign.
Yet, her elation is cut short when she sees a wrinkle forming between his brows. Dread takes seed in her chest.
"So, why you not swallowing my shit?"
Oh.
The corners of her lips twitch as she tries to keep herself from smiling. Her lips part. "Sorr—"
"I'm not tryma hear nothing when my dick should be in your throat." A heavy hand finds its way into her hair, firmly grasping it near the base of her skull. "Need to be gagging on my shit."
Her pussy clenches. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, pushing her face closer to him. She tongue-kisses his tip, humming when it jumps in her mouth.
"Mhm … show me how much you want this."
She rests her hands on his thighs, descending onto him again. Her eyes squeeze shut as she pushes herself to go lower than previous. As she lowers, it gets harder to breathe, her mouth stretching wider and wider.
"Hurgh—"
She pushes through the gag that rips through her. Her head grows fuzzy at the feeling of the slow suffocation.
Onyankopon groans, "Fuck … open up." His hand grips her hair tighter. "Relax your throat."
He hits the back of her tongue. The muscles of her neck constrict.
"Aarck—"
Her shoulders hike up, another sharp gag moving through her.
"Easy, easy."
She pulls off, a beaded string of her own spit leading from the depths of her mouth to his dripping tip. Her stomach is turning.
"You good," he tells her, petting her head.
She nods, swallowing a loose glob of spit to calm her throat.
"C'mon, you good."
She considers the truth of his words before her own thoughts, taking him back in her mouth.
"Mmph," he moans, pressing his lips together to catch the sound.
His head rolls back, but before it lands against the couch cushion, it bounces back up. Her lips kiss the base of him, his hips jumping in shock.
"Huarc—"
"Shit, my fault, my fault."
His breathing is rushed and unsteady as he exhales through his nose, staring down at the mess she's making between his legs.
Spit pours almost freely down his dick, pooling into a thick, frothy puddle of her saliva and his precum in his lap.
"God … damn," he groans, tilting his head some, wishing he could take a picture of this moment to keep forever.
Her lips pucker around him, like they're desperately trying to keep anymore spit from inevitably leaking out. Like they're tired of being stretched open by his dick.
She looks so pretty like this.
"How you take it better this way?"
She sniffles weakly. As her mouth is still full of him, Ámerei gently rests her head against a thigh of his. Her lashes sweep against the hills of her cheekbones as her eyes flutter shut, a gentle sigh leaving through her nose.
"Hm?"
He reaches down to cup her chin, and as soon as their skin makes contact, those pretty brown eyes are open again. Just barely. They're glazed over, not present.
At that moment, something clicks within him. His brain runs with a prediction.
"Should fuck this like your pussy."
He watches her face for any twitch in her brows, some sign of objection. But, there's only a look of sedation. His hand slips from her jaw, he smooths his thumb over an eyebrow before pushing a rogue couple of strands of hair back.
She swallows around him again, closing her eyes.
"Aye, talk to me." Onyankopon lays two quick taps to her cheek, the action gaining her attention. "Ami. Make a sound or something."
A tiny whine comes from the back of her throat. He twitches in the chamber of his neck.
"Want me to move?"
She blinks slowly.
"A'ight," he whispers.
Gently, he takes her head in his hands and carefully pulls her off of him. Loose webs of spit and precum fall around his dick. He's a glistening mess as it falls against his inner thigh, heavy and sopping wet.
A couple of coughs and few hiccups leave her as she wipes at her face with the back of her hand. "W-what?"
"You enjoying this, I could see it in your face."
The corners of her lips lift without restraint.
"But, you gotta communicate with me. Don't go silent."
Just as fast, they drop into a frown, feeling that hint of dread again. "Okay," she nods.
"Even when your mouth is full like that, or you can't talk; tap me."
Her face scrunches up in mild confusion. "Tap?"
His hand slides over her shoulder, the tips of his fingers just at her back, and taps once. "Like that if you want me to pause. Twice if you good," he performing the second gesture. "And—" then taps her three times in succession, "—to tell me to stop."
She blinks at him, cementing the code in her head.
"How you feeling? Show me."
She lifts a hand to rest on his naked thigh and taps him twice.
"Good," he tells her. "Now c'mon."
She's too eager to get him back in her mouth, swallowing him up with blinding ease each time.
"Mhm, look at you… Like you starving."
She pushes her face against his thighs, smiling around his dick. And Onyankopon thinks it's the sweetest, sexiest thing ever. Holding the back of her head, the pads of his fingers rub into her skull.
"You want more?"
She nods as her tongue laves at the underside of him.
"S'what I thought," he mumbles before that hand of his moves to grip her jaw.
Pushing her head up just a bit, Onyankopon holds himself at the base to pull out, earning a deep gag from her. And he loves that sound.
He's dripping in her slobber. The head is where most of her spit collects, a web of it connected to her bottom lip.
Taking himself in hand, he rubs it like a wand and swabs it against her lips. The sloppy, uncoordinated push of his dick against her face makes her flinch here and there. But she doesn't pull away in the slightest when he smears their mess all over the lower half of her face.
His hand shifts to hook a thumb between her lips and push down.
"Open."
The hinge of her jaw slackens with ease.
"Stick that pretty tongue out."
She does exactly what he says, and within that second, the fat head of his dick is slapping against her taste buds.
"Mhm, look real good like this."
He can already imagine himself bursting on her tongue. He glances up from her mouth to see the stars in her glistening eyes.
"Should bust all over you right now," he rasps. "You want that?"
She nods eagerly, tongue sticking out of her mouth like a panting dog. The fruity hue of the muscle is too similar to the inside of her pussy.
"Suck it outta me, then. The fuck?"
He angles his hips to push back into her throat. The suction of her mouth is unmistakable, he knows she sucked him in. The feeling of that wet, slippery warmth traveling down his dick, swooping him up into a tight hold pulls a breathy moan out of him.
"Greedy ass … tryna suck me up, and I'm a-already giving it t'you—" He grasps the back of her head again as rolls his hips smooth and slow. "F … fuck," he groans out.
Her throat jumps around him, desperate to accommodate the moving length throughout it.
"Taking it real good, Princess."
Her eyes flutter, and he catches the way they slightly roll back before she blinks.
Too experienced, it doesn't take long for him to find a shallow but steady rhythm, picking up the pace. As his dick bullies its way in and out, past the walls of her tonsils, a faint clicking sound is made.
"You like this?"
His voice wavers, the sound shooting straight to her clit. Her hand that rests on his muscular thighs, rises and falls twice: one-two.
"I know … kn-know you do…"
His breathing grows heavier and heavier, balls tightening some as they tap at her chin with each thrust.
"Smartest girl I ever met … but you go fucking stupid when you got dick in your mouth."
A mewl vibrates in her throat. He looks down to see her eyes roll to the back of her head.
"You like me talking to you like that?"
One-two.
She's an image of corruption: one of her eyes is only half-open, both showcasing the whites of them as his dick pushes in-and-out past her lips. Spit oozes and froths up at the seams of her lips.
"L-look at you … blowing bubbles on my shit," he grunts. "You wanna play with your pussy?"
A moan, real and solid, gurgles from her throat. The air coming out of her mouth pushes out more balloons of spit along the rim of her mouth.
"Shit—go 'head."
Fireworks go off in her head at his given permission, like this moment is the kind of joy she's been waiting to experience for the last few years. Ámerei is quick to shove a hand down the front of her leggings, pushing past the hem of her panties to rub at her clit.
She feels like she's gone sky-high, completely relinquishing all control to him as he fucks her mouth good and thoroughly.
"S-said you could touch yourself … don't hold out on me."
His words kick something alive in her head. She begins to move herself, bobbing her head up and down. As she does so, she's only able to go halfway down at this faster speed.
Onyankopon's hips stutter. "Aye—watch the teeth. Watch the teeth, Ami."
She squeezes her eyes shut, making a conscious effort to tuck her lips over them. The change grants him unfettered access to her mouth, carving a way for itself in her throat.
"Oh … fuuck, keep … keep swallowing my shit, Mama."
Her fingers work in fast, tight circles over her clit. This is a wet dream for her.
"Make me nut," he pants, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.
At that, she shoves two fingers in herself, the intrusion creating a soft squidge between her thighs. At every swallow of his dick, she's pushing her fingers in. The penetration from both ends gets her sopping wet, the seat of her panties soaked through.
"Make me nut on that tongue."
At that particular command, she swallows him an inch deeper, a strong gag ripping through her.
"Mhm, just like that," he sneers as he moves his hips to meet her half-way.
Her eyes squeeze shut, wringing tears from them as she falls in-line with his thrusts. She keeps her head still, allowing him to throat fuck her, even as she chokes on him.
Hand buried in her hair, Onyankopon lets his head fall back against the couch, losing it in her mouth.
"Mh—fuck," he whimpers, chest pumping as he gulps down air. "I-I'm 'bout to cum."
She loves it when he says those words.
She pulls off of him messily, replacing her mouth with a loose fist. She moves quickly over his dick to uphold the pace. His hips buck, stomach sucking in with every pull.
"Want it," she utters breathlessly as spit drips from her face, tongue half sticking out to catch his cum just in case. "Want it—want it on my tongue, Ony."
He musters enough strength to pull his head back up, eyelids heavy as he gazes down at her: tears crystallize along her lash-line, looking like gems against her slender eyes.
His stomach swoops, his balls tightening.
"You …fuck—you gon' swallow it all?" he slurs.
"Mhm," she says, desperation all over her face as she nods. "A-all of it."
His other hand grips at the couch cushion beneath him as he holds back on cumming all over her face.
"Put my dick back in your mouth."
She chases after him with her mouth open, head bobbing awkwardly before finally catching him, without the help of her hands. Her cheeks cave in, pushing further down to get him to the back of her throat. She flexes around him, coaxing his impending orgasm out of him.
The simple action has his mind submitting to the desires of his body. His hips move thoughtlessly, unrestrained and sharp as they pump shallowly into her mouth.
"Fuc— … s-swallow that shit—"
"Hic—"
He busts in her mouth, the alkaline taste of his thick, viscous cum painting her tongue and throat. It's hard to swallow all of it down in one go.
"Oh … fuck," he shudders, chest rising and falling rather quickly as he swallows down whatever air is available. The exposed parts of his skin are dewy with sweat. Before his body is able to even fully relax, it tenses up with overstimulation.
She's still sucking.
"Aye—"
Grasping her head on both sides, he pulls her off. There's a bit of resistance, but when he finally gets her off of him, he sees in her eyes that she's completely gone.
"Tryna suck my soul out," he weakly jokes, though she doesn't laugh back. She only gives him a dreamy smile.
He grasps the underside of her jaw. "Lemme see."
Without a word, Ámerei sticks her tongue out to show him how she managed to swallow it all. He looks at her, knowing that she's desperately waiting for a form of praise for her work.
"Good job."
Her smile only grows.
"Come up," he says, already pulling her back up on the couch.
Scooting further back from him, she spreads her thighs to show him the darkened patch of gray fabric at the seat of her leggings.
His legs feel like Jell-O. Yet, despite this, he pushes through it to stand on his feet before her.
"That's how you feeling?"
She bites her bottom lip before turning away from him. Burying her chest into the couch cushions, Ámerei pushes her ass high in the air to present.
Looking back at him, the spit quickly drying on the lower-half of her face, she eagerly pushes her leggings and panties down her ass in one fell-swoop. Her back bows she reaches back to pull her cheeks apart, her wetness winking back at him. Creamy and dripping.
He kisses his teeth as another wave of arousal shoots through him, fatigue be damned. "Quit playing with me."
She mewls, eyes falling closed. "Want it in here, too," she mumbles thoughtlessly.
Blowing out a breath, Onyankopon takes his hardening dick in hand, starting with a few slow pumps.
"Yeah, dick really got you acting dumb now."
She shakes her ass side-to-side, taunting him.
"I'ma give it to you … just don't be running this time."
Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Please, don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾
IN WHICH Divine asks her fine ass, older neighbor to take her virginity.
Please excuse any and all mistakes! 🙃
Divine's been Smoke's neighbor for about a year now—right across the hall from him.
One day, while she was still in the process of getting moved in, he felt like being kind enough to help her haul a few boxes into her apartment. He did and she noticed that he lived right across from her.
He’s been her go to ever since.
She knocks on his door if she needs something put together. Knock if she needs something heavy brought up. Knock if she needs sugar, or any other common kitchen ingredients that everyone should have. Knock if she needs to borrow money to order food (which she never pays back). Hell, she even knocks when she's bored.
It's gotten to the point that all three of the women Smoke’s currently juggling know of her, even initially asking if that's his little sister.
Of course, he introduces her as his irritating ass neighbor, to which their curiosity and amusement shifts to jealousy.
Smoke pays it no mind, knowing deep down that if it’s up to him, Divine isn’t going anywhere, but they can.
Smoke initially did find her annoying to a point, the younger reminding him of his twin, in a way. After getting to know her in depth, he understood her taking to him so quick.
Divine ran away from her family and hometown in North Carolina, settling in Chicago to get a fresh start in her twenty-three years of living.
In a world where seeing a man as safe isn't safe, he felt a sense of obligation—knowing that that wouldn't be the case for her.
Yes, he’s a little hard on her, especially since she works most of her nights at a well known, local gentleman's club.
Through all of that protectiveness and strictness, Divine notices and appreciates that he cares and looks out for her.
At the end of the day, she’s a good girl with a good head on her shoulders, so doing so isn't too hard.
Like, what feels like, clockwork, his carefree day of leisure is interrupted by someone wanting access to him.
Impatient knocks on his door urged Smoke to toss his PS5 controller aside, releasing a huff of air from his nose. He pulled his sagging sweats up on his hips, trudging to the front door.
"Wait a damn minute." Smoke grumbled just as they started up again. He swung it open, already knowing that Divine is behind it.
"What the fuck do you want, lil girl?" Smoke gritted, irritation all over his face and that usual Southern bite deep in his gruff tone. "You can't be banging on my do' like som' wrong!"
"Damn, can you calm down?" Divine sassed with a soft frown and eye roll. "Something is wrong. This is serious, Smoke."
"Life or death?"
"Uh...no, but—." Divine was cut off by Smoke closing the door in her face, smirking softly at the fact that he knows she's internally throwing a fit. "Smoke, please!" She whined, making him roll his eyes and pull the door back open.
Smoke stepped aside, silently giving her permission to enter.
Divine sauntered in like she owned the place, her black, plush Victoria’s Secret slippers sliding against the floor loudly.
She's currently wearing some light blue, Smurf printed shorts that are too damn short, and a white, cropped tank top that's barely containing her full, generous breasts and resting just above her soft, pudgy stomach.
Divine plopped down on his couch, releasing a loud, dramatic sigh as she sprawled out all of her limbs.
Smoke shook his head with a soft scoff, sitting down and manspreading in his previous spot.
Divine released an even louder sigh when she noticed that he picked his controller back up and unpaused the game.
"I'm 'spose to ask you what's wrong?"
"Yes."
Smoke cut his eyes over at her, pausing the game that he just unpaused to see what's her issue.
"What's wrong, Divine?" Smoke asked with concern so false that it came out sounding almost forced.
"Ugh, It's stupid."
"Girl, just tell me what the hell wrong wit' you."
"Fine." Divine sat up with a huff, looking over at Smoke with a pout. "I'm tired of being a virgin."
Smoke's brows furrowed, and he tilted his head in visible confusion as she looked down at her slippers.
"You a virgin, D?"
He’s not blind. The young woman is very attractive.
Rich brown skin. Thick, black coils that she keeps done in bold, natural styles. Big, soft brown eyes and full, plush lips. Curvaceous, thick frame.
In addition, she's intelligent and has an extremely likable personality (even though Smoke will never tell her that).
There's also been a few men that she brought around, so he just assumed that she had to be serious with at least one of them.
"Yeah." Divine muttered. "I know. It's fucking embarrassing. A grown ass virgin that gotta sit back and...miss out!" She rambled.
“Ain’t nothing wrong wit’ being a virgin, Divine.” Smoke reassured her with an amused chuckle. “It ain’t that serious.”
“It’s serious when I have desires that aren’t being fulfilled, Elijah.” Divine sassed, saying his government almost like it disgusted her at the moment. “I’m at my limit.”
"So, you ready to fuck?" Smoke spoke—half questioning, and half asking for confirmation. "I mean, have sex." He caught and censored himself, gritting his teeth apologetically.
"See?"
"What?"
"That! Don't...treat me like a fucking child. Like an inexperienced, fragile teenager, or something!" Divine spat with a frown, making Smoke shake his head, and fight the urge to mock her despite understanding where she’s coming from.
“I hear you.” Smoke grumbled, looking back over at her and returning his full attention to her.
"Yes, I wanna fuck. I wanna be fucked. I wanna be fucked so good that I can…barely walk the next day! I don’t know!" Divine went on passionately, throwing her arms in the air and dropping them.
"So...." Smoke trailed off, shrugging. "You want me to help you ask one of yo’ lil boyfriends to…fuck you?”
"No, Smoke." Divine said firmly, straightening her spine to boldly deliver her next words. "I want you to fuck me."
Smoke froze in shock, but a smile made its way onto his face as he eventually let out a small laugh.
When he realized that she isn’t laughing along and is serious, the most serious he’s seen her since they met, his smile faltered and his heart dropped.
“Wait, fo’real?”
“I’m not laughing, Elijah.” Divine said stiffly, crossing her arms across her chest.
"I'm not fucking you, D."
"What?" Divine asked, the disbelief and shock from the rejection evident in her tone. "Why? Come on! I-I trust you, Smoke! I know you won't hurt me, and—. Oh my God." She paused and frowned deeper. "You think I'm ugly."
Smoke smacked his lips, letting his head hit the cushion behind him with an audible groan.
"Nah, don’t “ahhughh”!” Divine spat, mocking his groan.
Caught off guard, Smoke barked out a laugh. He dropped his head in a fit of snickers as she pushed his shoulder with a mug.
“Bro, what the fuck?” Smoke wheezed in a fit of laughter.
“That's basically what the fuck you telling me!"
"Just because I don't wanna fuck you, don't mean you ugly, Divine." Smoke retorted with a chuckle.
"Is it because of my age?"
"Eh, in a way, I guess." Smoke admitted with a subtle shrug after thinking about it. "I don't have time for attachment and shit. It piss me off, honestly. I ain't tryna stereotype you, or virgins in general, but like....I like my women experienced. I like women who know how to get down to business, then gon’ ‘bout they day.”
“Smoke, that’s so me!”
“Girl, you don’t fucking know that ‘cause you never had to do it before.” Smoke tilted his head, giving her a bored look.
"Well, nigga, I can learn!"
"Divine, it's not that simple." Smoke said with an amused chuckle. "I'm sure there's plenty of niggas 'round yo' age that—"
"I knew I shouldn't have brought this up to you." Divine muttered, shaking her head with a scoff. "Should've just asked Stack."
"Who?" Smoke asked, raising a brow and lifting his head to properly look at her like she lost her damn mind.
“Bingo!” Divine thought, fighting the urge to smirk.
"Nobody."
"Don't fucking play wit' me, Divine." Smoke said sternly, making her roll her eyes with the soft, prideful smirk that she couldn’t resist.
The jokes on him, actually. He isn't scaring her, he's actually making her want to be fucked more. He doesn't even know why that remark irritated him so much. He just knows that it did.
"Look, I came to you because you're the only man that I trust with this. I trust you with me, and…I trust you to be honest, I guess.” Divine spoke seriously, looking away and fiddling with her long, black acrylic nails. "If you don't want to do it, that's fine. I'll just try to take your earlier advice. You can just give me pointers, or some shit, at least." She stressed, releasing a soft, anxious sigh at the thought.
“You can’t just play wit’ yourself?”
“It’s not the same.” Divine admitted with defeat. “It’s like there’s an itch there that I can’t scratch, Elijah.” She grumbled, sinking back into the couch and deflating.
Smoke stared over at her, lost in thought as he nibbled on the inside of his cheek. Divine shook her head as she stared at the ceiling.
When she sat up to speak again, attempting to change the subject, Smoke cut her off.
“You sure you want to?” Smoke asked with a never before seen tenderness that made her visibly freeze and her eyes to light up.
“Yeah.” Divine breathed out, nodding feverishly. “I-I do. I’m so sure.” She rushed out, softly smiling.
"Bet." Smoke said with a "fuck it" shrug and a heavy exhale. "C'mere."
Divine barely let him get his words out before she leapt onto his big, bulky frame.
Smoke firmly gripped her hips as she straddled him, staring down at him and biting back her smile. She don’t want to come off as too excited. She definitely don’t want to show just how much she’s been secretly dreaming and fantasizing about this.
Smoke stared up at her and examined her with so much intensity that Divine grew convinced that he’s reading her mind just as thoroughly as he’s reading her physical.
"You know how to kiss, right?"
"A little." Divine said softly, making him nod.
"Show me."
Divine leaned down, smashing her lips onto his. Smoke attempted to set the rhythm, but her eagerness overtook him, making him grip her neck firmly to physically try and slow her down.
When she didn’t get the message, a soft laugh slipped out of him, making her pull back and look down at him with a sheepish smile.
“You actin’ greedy as hell, right na.”
“Sorry.” Divine muttered quickly before leaning down, grabbing his face and gently locking her lips onto his—desperate to correct herself.
Divine began to follow Smoke’s lead and pace, her brows furrowing slightly at the newness of him introducing tongue.
When she got the hang of it to a point, the awkwardness seemed to fade as she melted into him, moaning softly and demanding more.
Smoke hummed softly in approval when she began to move her lips and tongue fluidly against his, gripping her hips with one hand and the front of her neck with the other.
This grip of her neck held an entirely different energy.
The warmth from the firm hold and the small, sexy sound of praise went straight to her core that's already hot, pulsing, and ready.
"Get up." Smoke rasped against her lips, nipping at her bottom one as she stared at him, dazed.
"Why?"
“We gotta get out these clothes to fuck, Divine." Smoke muttered with a soft laugh, causing her face to heat up.
"Oh…I knew that." Divine muttered, standing to her feet and giving Smoke the space to do so, as well.
Divine pulled her tank top over her head, letting her luscious globes fall free without shame.
Her nipples are erect and already stiff from the heightened sexual tension in the room.
Stripping herself bare for Smoke held a type of exhilaration that’s entirely different than doing it to make money at the club.
Her eyes fell on Smoke's heavenly sculpted torso as he tossed his hoodie to the side.
The sight of his gold chain against his gorgeously bronzed skin and his arm muscles flexing with minimal movement nearly made her mouth water.
Smoke noticed that she was staring and quirked a brow with a soft smirk. Divine flirtatiously smiled and turned her back to him, looking back to see him hungrily watching her shimmy out of her shorts and panties while he got rid of his sweats—leaving him in his grey briefs.
Smoke was behind her before she could even attempt to turn her front back in his direction.
A giggle slipped from Divine’s lips as he gripped her hair, loving the weight and presence of him hot and heavy against her backside.
“Call yo’self teasing me, lil girl?”
“I’m just doing what you told me to do, Elijah.” Divine said softly, feigning innocence while looking back at him and batting her wispy lashes.
Smoke hummed with a soft smirk, pulling her towards his dimly lit bedroom—the only light illuminating it being from his TV’s screensaver. He threw her onto the bed before looming over her and slotting himself between her legs, kissing her with slow, teasing intensity.
The anticipation made Divine whimper against his lips and lock her legs around him, chasing the friction that occurred whenever her swollen clit brushed against the bulk of him in his briefs with gentle shifts of her wide hips.
"Ever got yo’ pussy ate?" Smoke asked against her lips.
"Yeah, but I didn’t like it." Divine said with a soft whimper.
“What you ain’t like about it?” Smoke asked curiously, reaching between her legs and gathering some of her slick onto his thumb before circling it around her aching clit.
The sound of her breath hitching made his dick twitch in its confines, the man licking his lips as his eyes stayed locked with hers.
“It didn’t…feel like anything. It was really wet, too. Like, entirely too much spit.” Divine breathlessly giggled at the memory with a pleasurable sigh from Smoke’s ministration. “The only thing my pussy really likes is when I hump my pillow.” She admitted shyly, earning a chuckle from Smoke.
“I wanna see som.” Smoke muttered, giving her a light kiss. “I’m gon’ eat yo’ pussy. That’s okay wit’ you?”
Divine reluctantly nodded, scooting back and spreading her legs wider to give him more access.
When it comes to Smoke, she’s convinced she’d let him do anything that he wanted to do to her.
Divine sat up on her elbows, tilting her head as she watched his gaze brush over every inch of her pussy that’s wet and flushed from arousal.
Before she could ask him what he was looking at, Smoke spoke.
“Pretty.” Smoke muttered, that one word making her blush like crazy. Just as she started to shyly clamp her legs close, he held her open with a firm grip on her thighs and dove in.
Divine gasped and jumped softly in shock when his tongue brushed her clit.
He did that a few times, his deep brown eyes locked on her face, taking mental notes of every soft sound and movement she made.
Smoke swirled his tongue against it, making Divine press her hips down more towards his tongue as her mouth fell open.
“Shit.” Divine whined, head falling back and her hand gripping a fistful of his soft, grown out coils.
A loud, shameless moan shot out towards the ceiling when he suckled the nub sloppily, the sound of the action lewd and nasty.
“I think she likes my mouth, baby.” Smoke teased, earning a sultry and eager “mmhm!” from Divine.
Smoke used the notes that he took from her bodily responses and incorporated them into a messy, intricate rhythm that he unleashed on her entire pussy greedily.
Divine squirmed and bucked against his mouth, releasing sounds and cries that she didn’t even know she could muster.
The delicious, achy buildup in her core left her speechless as she tugged at the sheets above her head, mouth hung open and face twisted into a helpless frown of ecstasy.
Suddenly, her taut muscles went limp and she deeply shuddered as she let the coil of pleasure snap free.
Smoke hummed against her pussy and she let out a soft yelp, slapping the bed before gripping his hair with both hands.
Divine jerkily bucked her hips as she rode out the aftershocks against his flattened tongue and tender suction.
Smoke ceased the beautiful torture and kissed her inner thighs with a smirk as a breathless Divine shivered and dropped her hands down to rub his broad shoulders.
“You cum so fuckin’ pretty.” Smoke groaned softly, kissing up her body and placing kisses on her nipples before taking one in his warm mouth.
Divine arched into him with a soft moan, pussy pulsing when his teeth grazed the sensitive peak. He moved to the other, giving it the same attention as Divine pinched the one he just left.
"I think you ready for some dick, Divine." Smoke teased softly, making her let out a breathy giggle.
“Don’t treat me like a virgin.” Divine reminded him as he stood to his feet, removing his briefs. Her eyes locked on his dick, and her eyes lit up in disbelief.
It's at least eight and a half inches—thick with veins canvassing the smooth, deep, velvety skin. The sight should’ve scared the shit out of her, but instead, it made her stomach churn and clit pulse with excitement.
“The message still stands.” Divine sassed when she locked eyes with Smoke, noticing his silent, cocky demeanor.
“Ok.” Smoke said with a soft shrug, crawling back between her legs. “I'm not gon' baby you, but imma be careful."
"Yes, sir." Divine sarcastically retorted with a giggle.
“You ready?”
“Smoke, I been ready.” Divine fussed, rolling her eyes. “I can take it. If that change, I’ll let you know.”
Smoke wordlessly nodded, releasing some nerves of his own.
"The more you relax, the easier it'll go in."
“I know.” Divine moaned softly, melting into the sensation of him softly rubbing her clit with his thumb.
Divine closed her eyes and breathed deeply, gasping at the dull ache and pressure that followed her slit trying to accommodate him as he breached her entrance.
"Loosen—there you go." Smoke whispered through a strained groan as Divine let her body go limp despite the grimace on her face.
The buildup of her slick arousal reduced the friction tremendously, allowing him to sink the rest of himself into her with ease, but the full feeling and the way her pussy is struggling to mould around the heaviness of him made her toes curl.
"Look at you." He praised lowly, watching and feeling her pussy struggle around his length.
Divine released a loud sound of discomfort as she adjusted to the intrusion, digging her nails into Smoke’s back when he leaned down to kiss from her lips and jawline.
"You doing good. Real good, pretty." Smoke whispered in her ear, rubbing her thigh with one hand and brushing his thumb against her cheek with the other.
As the discomfort subsided, the throbbing heat inside of her made her let out a soft moan despite the foreign sensation.
Smoke took that as his cue to lift his head, pull out to the tip, and slowly sink back into her.
His forehead pressed against hers as he watched her brows dip and mouth part at the feeling of adjusting to multiple things.
The stretch. The fullness. The ache that’s no longer rooted in discomfort and seemingly felt to get soothed with each passage of his dick against her walls and cervix.
Before they both knew it, Smoke had picked up a steady pace and Divine’s back was arching off the bed—her body chasing more.
"Oh my God." Divine lewdly moaned. "Feels so good, Smoke. You feel so good inside of me. Oh my fucking—!" She squealed, legs trembling in his hold.
“Fuck, D.” Smoke hissed at her walls clenching and sucking him deeper as she shuddered with another orgasm and a broken, deep moan.
Smoke pulled out, earning a whine of displeasure from Divine from the loss. He’d be damned if he slip up and nut in her. He never did it before, and he has no intention of doing it tonight.
“I want more, Elijah.” Divine moaned shamelessly as he flipped her over, a little bemused at how needy she is for her first time. Divine arched her back deeply, rambling softly about his dick and how much she wants it.
“I got you, baby. I’m givin’ it to you.” Smoke muttered, placing a hand on the back of her neck and sinking back into her, earning a muffled, satisfied mewl from Divine and a shaky exhale from him.
Smoke didn't think Divine's virgin ass falling apart on his dick would be this sexy.
"Oooh, yes, Smoke!” Divine moaned when he began to pound into her after gradually picking up the pace, her toes curling tightly. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She squealed with each thrust.
The sexy sounds of her moans and the squelching of her drenched pussy made Smoke’s head tip back, a soft, barely audible “shit” leaving his lips.
“This some good ass pussy.” Smoke grunted more so to himself. “Fuck, Divine.”
His large hands flew to her hips, holding her right where he wanted her as he pistoned into her harder.
"Yes, Elijah!" Divine moaned loud and desperate, looking back at him and digging her nails into his arm with her face still pressed against the bed. "Fuck my pussy! Fuck my fucking pussy!" She sobbed, tears of pure ecstasy soaking her face.
The sight of her boohoo crying from his dick rewired something in his brain. He's never seen anything so sexy—so desperate.
Yeah, he's had some of his flings shed a few tears here in there, but full on sobbing has his dick throbbing like crazy.
He's now in an internal war to keep from painting every inch of her walls with his kids, as well as holding off long enough to continue hearing those sweet, pathetic moans.
Smoke snatched her up by her hair and put her in a headlock as she softly trembled against him. “Give it to me." He spat in her ear. "Gimme this shit."
"Smoke, I gotta pee! Fuck!" Divine cried out, not sure if she wants to push him back or beg him not to stop.
Smoke muttered a soft "uh uh", prompting her to gladly choose the latter because it just feels too good. Plus, she trusts him.
"Right there! Don't stop, Smoke, imma—!"
As soon as his dick began fighting against the attempted expulsions of Divine's squirting pussy, he slammed deep into her—releasing with a loud, primal moan that mixed beautifully with her broken, high pitched yell and spurts of fluid.
Divine collapsed on the bed with, breathless sobs—her body trembling and nails digging into any part of him that she could reach back and grab as he fucked his seed deeper into her with ragged, jerky thrusts.
Smoke collapsed beside her after they both came down, chuckling softly at her appearing boneless where she lay with her eyes closed—absolutely wrecked and dazed.
Smoke slid out of her, spreading her open to admire the way his seed is leaking from her sweet, swollen pussy.
The sight made him shake his head, laughing lightly at the fact that he did exactly what he told himself he wasn’t gonna go.
Honestly, he doesn’t even have the energy to trip on it. He’ll just DoorDash her a Plan B later.
Smoke went into his bathroom and started the shower. He stepped back into his bedroom, scooping Divine up. She shifted awake, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder that’s damp with sweat as she locked her legs around his waist.
Smoke simply kissed her forehead in response, standing her under the water as he got in himself, sliding the glass door closed behind them.
I know I said that I was going to be a one and done ass bitch on here, but ovulation compelled me to write a little something inspired by thoughts of Smoke taking my virginity 😔
BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE READING THIS! 🫶🏾❤️ I’m still not sure what I’m doing, but I’m still extremely appreciative of you all! 😭
Thank you for reading my shitty ass smut and indulging in my shitty ass fantasies! 🥰
warnings: this story contains explicit penetrative sex (unprotected), a significant size difference between the characters, riding/cowgirl position, consensual pinning and being held down by arms, heavy chest-to-chest grinding and full-body contact, detailed focus on physical bulk and softness over muscle, a creampie, and mild dominance from the man while he remains on his back.
Idea: imagine your riding thick 2000’s michael, and he’s lying down flat on his back on the bed whilst you straddle him. Then he wraps both of his arms around you and pulls you down so you two are chest to chest, and you just feel his plumpness and muscles and there is a BIG size difference between you and him omg.. and then you feel his broad shoulders and your stomach is pressed on top of his..@michaelssparklyglove
You climb onto the bed and swing one leg over him, the mattress dipping heavily under the sheer bulk of him. Michael is stretched out flat on his back, his body on full display—his chest rising and falling slow, soft muscle layered over denser strength, a solid, heavy frame that makes the sheets crease around his hips and shoulders. His skin is warm under the low light. You settle your knees on either side of his thick thighs and look down at the size of him. He’s massive beneath you. Your hands look small when they brace against his chest
You reach between your bodies, guide the heavy, flushed head of his dick against yourself, and sink down. Inch by thick inch. A low, broken sound leaves his throat as your walls swallows him. You take him all the way until your ass settles flush against his hips and he’s buried deep, stretching you open around his solid girth. For a moment you just stay there, breathing, feeling how completely he fills you. Then you start to move.
You roll your hips in a deep, grinding rhythm, lifting just enough to feel the drag of him before sinking back down. Every descent makes your thighs tremble. His hands come up to rest on your waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin there, but the longer you ride him the more restless those big hands get. You lean forward a little, bracing on his chest, and the motion presses your stomach against the soft give of his midsection. The contrast is filthy—your smaller body working over all that heavy muscle and plumpness, the way his belly yields just slightly under yours while the rest of him stays solid and dense.
“Fuck… look at you,” he mutters, voice rough. His eyes are dark, fixed on the place where your bodies join. You keep riding him, slower now, grinding down hard so he can feel every inch of how tight you are around him. His hips start to meet yours in short, upward thrusts, the thick muscle of his thighs flexing under you. The bed creaks.
Then both of those arms come up and wrap around you.
He pulls you down hard, crushing you chest-to-chest against him. Your breasts flatten against the warm, solid plane of his chest. The sudden closeness steals your breath. His plumpness is everywhere—soft give over dense muscle, the kind of body that feels expensive and indulgent under you. Your stomach presses flush to his, the slight softness of his midsection yielding under yours, and you can feel the heat of him radiating straight into your skin. His broad shoulders fill your entire field of vision. Your face is tucked against the side of his neck, and the scent of his skin—warm, clean, a little like cologne wraps around you.
He keeps you locked there, arms banded tight around your back, holding you still while he starts thrusting up into you from below. Short, powerful rolls of his hips that drive him deep every time. You’re completely blanketed by him—his size, his heat, the solid weight of those arms keeping you pinned chest-to-chest so you can’t do anything but feel how completely he fills you. Every upward thrust makes your stomach press harder into his, makes you feel the difference in your bodies even more sharply how much bigger he is, how easily he can keep you exactly where he wants you while he fucks up into you with steady, greedy strokes.
You moan against his neck, fingers digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders. The breadth of them under your hands is ridiculous. You can barely span the width of one. He just holds you tighter, breathing hard into your hair, the soft weight of his chest rising against yours with every breath. His dick drags deep inside you on every thrust, the thick base of him grinding against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You’re so full of him it borders on overwhelming—stretched around that heavy length, pinned by all that solid bulk, forced to take every upward roll of his hips while your smaller body is crushed against the warm, plush expanse of his.
He shifts one arm lower, wrapping it around the small of your back so he can pull you down even harder onto him. The new angle makes you gasp. Your stomach is pressed so tightly to his that you can feel every flex of the muscle underneath the soft layer. His other hand slides up your spine and settles between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest locked to his. You’re completely surrounded by him—broad shoulders, heavy arms, the solid heat of his body under yours. The size difference is impossible to ignore. He could cover you completely if he wanted. Right now he’s content to keep you trapped on top of him, fucking up into you with those deep, relentless thrusts while you can only cling to his shoulders and take it.
“Stay right there,” he murmurs against your temple, voice low and rough. “Just like that.”
You do. You stay chest-to-chest, stomach pressed to his, feeling every thick inch of him slide in and out while his arms hold you down. The friction is constant, deep, filthy. Your clit grinds against the base of him with every upward thrust. Heat builds low in your belly, sharp and insistent. He can feel it—the way you start to squeeze around him, the way your breathing goes uneven against his neck. His own rhythm gets a little rougher, a little deeper, the soft bulk of his body shifting under you with every powerful roll of his hips.
You come first, clenching hard around him with a broken sound muffled against his skin. He holds you through it, arms locked tight, thrusting up into the fluttering heat of you until the pleasure tips over into something almost too much. Only then does he let himself follow—burying himself to the hilt with a low, guttural groan, the thick pulse of him spilling deep while his arms keep you crushed against all that warm, solid bulk.
Even after, he doesn’t let go right away. He stays buried inside you, breathing hard, one big hand stroking slowly up and down your back while your smaller body remains draped over the heavy expanse of his. Chest to chest. Stomach to stomach. Completely surrounded by the thick, plush weight of him.
an: i love thick him so much. Like, I’ll eat the fuck out of him. They didn’t tell him how beautiful he was enough. Gosh, it was longer, but I deleted it and it’s not proofread, so I don’t care.
