「 kai 」 @thevelvetwhispers - Tumblr Blog

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This masterlist is a quick guide for my favorite fics and the writers that have been putting in work since the drop of this movie.

To the writers on this platform that take time to do what you love… if you don’t hear it enough….. BABY, YOU’RE APPRECIATED!

Let us read and enjoy. I'll update when I can, or if you have some that you'd like added let me know.

NOTE: If you’d like your work to be removed just let me know.

LAST UPDATED: 11/1/2025

lilbitt

𝔸 𝕊𝕚𝕥 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤

Writing been rough for me these days 😭😭 but I miss it real bad at the same time 💔. The result of that is my unserious ass tapping in with the twins to try to work through my writers / motivation block lmaoo. Not tagging nobody cause like…idek what this is fr lmao.

•

“Do you think the way you talk to people is a problem?”

Stack was on the couch, legs spread wide, arms thrown over the back, wide grin completely taking over his face.

“Do you think the way I talk to people is a problem?”

piecredheart

After the Curtain Falls

Summary: After Seeing You On Stage MBJ Wanted To See And Get To Know You More.

A/N: Just Wanted To Write About This Fine Man. Please Follow, Like, And Reblog.

The first time Michael B. Jordan saw you, you weren’t dressed like yourself. You were standing underneath a spotlight, wearing a costume from another century, your hair pinned back and your face transformed by stage makeup. And you were completely mesmerizing. Michael had gone to the theater that evening because a friend had recommended the production.

He wasn’t expecting much. Not because he didn’t appreciate theater. He simply hadn’t known what to expect. Then the curtain opened and you walked onto the stage.

For the next two hours, Michael barely moved. He laughed when the audience laughed. He held his breath during the emotional scenes. And when you delivered the final monologue, the entire theater seemed to disappear around him. You stood beneath a single spotlight. Your voice shook just enough to make the character feel real. Your eyes filled with tears. And when the final line left your lips…silence.

Then the audience erupted. Michael stood with everyone else. He clapped harder than he had intended to. You bowed. And for a moment, your eyes swept across the audience. They passed over him. Neither of you knew it yet. But that moment was the beginning of everything.

Backstage, you were still trying to come down from the adrenaline. Your fellow actors were hugging each other. Someone was crying and someone else was already talking about going out for drinks. You laughed, exhausted.

“That was insane.” “You were amazing.” You smiled.“Thank you.” You were still wearing your costume when one of the stage managers approached. “Someone wants to meet you.” You frowned. “Who?” Before they could answer, you heard a familiar voice. “Hey.” You turned and froze.

Michael B. Jordan was standing there. You stared at him. He smiled. “Hi.” “Hello.” You looked at your castmate and then back at him. “You came to the show?” He laughed. “I did.” “Oh.” You suddenly became very aware that you were still wearing stage makeup. Michael smiled. “You were incredible.” You blinked. “Thank you.” “I’m serious.” He gestured toward the stage.

“I didn’t know what to expect when I came in.” You laughed nervously. “Was it good?” “Very.” He smiled.“You had the whole room.” That made you quiet. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.” “Well, it’s true.” You smiled. “Thank you.” There was a small pause. Then Michael laughed. “I should probably introduce myself properly.” You smiled. “I know who you are.” “Right.” He laughed. “I forgot.” You held out your hand. “I’m Y/n.” He took it. “Michael.” You smiled. “I know.” He laughed again. “Okay, now I feel stupid.”

He stayed backstage longer than he’d intended. The two of you talked. At first, it was about the show. How long you’d rehearsed. How you’d gotten into theater. What you loved about performing. Michael asked questions. Real ones. Not the polite questions people asked because they knew they were supposed to. He genuinely wanted to know. “You’ve been acting since you were little?” “Pretty much.” “What made you fall in love with it?” You thought about it.

“I like becoming someone else for a while.” Michael nodded. “I understand that.” “You do?” “Yeah.” He smiled. “Acting is kind of like getting to live a hundred different lives.” You smiled. “Exactly.” The conversation kept going. Eventually, you noticed your castmates had disappeared. You laughed. “I think everyone left.” Michael glanced around. “Did they?” “Yeah.” He smiled. “Guess we lost track of time.” You looked at the clock. “You’ve been here for almost an hour.” He looked surprised. “Wow.” You laughed. “Did you have somewhere to be?” “No.” He smiled. “I was enjoying talking to you.” Your cheeks warmed. “Me too.”

Before he left, Michael hesitated. “Would it be okay if I got your number?” You smiled. “Sure.” He handed you his phone and you entered your number. He looked at the screen. Then back at you. “Can I text you?” You laughed. “That’s usually what people do with phone numbers.” “Good.” He smiled. “Then I’ll text you.”

He texted you before he even reached his car.

Michael: You were amazing tonight.

You smiled.

You: Thank you for coming.

A few seconds later:

Michael: I’m glad I did

You stared at the message and you could feel yourself smiling.

The messages became regular. Then daily. Then constant. Michael would text you before rehearsals. You’d text him after performances. Sometimes you’d send him pictures of your coffee. Sometimes he’d send you photos from wherever he happened to be. You learned that Michael was much funnier than you expected. He learned that you could talk about theater for hours without realizing how much time had passed. He started coming to your shows whenever his schedule allowed.

You always spotted him in the audience. Sometimes he’d sit quietly and sometimes you’d catch him smiling. And somehow, knowing he was there made you perform even better.

One evening after another show, you walked backstage and found him waiting. He was holding flowers. You smiled. “Again?” He shrugged. “I like supporting you.” You took them. “They’re beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you.” You looked at him. “That was smooth.” He laughed. “I’m trying.” You smiled. “You don’t have to try.” He looked at you. “What do you mean?” “Because I like you.” Michael went quiet. You suddenly realized what you’d said. “Oh.” He smiled. “Good.” You laughed nervously. “Good?” “I like you too.” You felt yourself heart skip a beat.

Your first date wasn’t extravagant. That was what made it perfect. Michael picked you up after rehearsal. You were still wearing comfortable clothes, your hair messy from a long day. He looked at you. “You look beautiful.” You laughed. “I’ve been in a theater for six hours.” “And?” “And I probably smell like hairspray.” He smiled. “I don’t care.”

He took you to a quiet restaurant where you could actually talk. And you did for hours. Talking about different things like childhood, family, dreams, fears, the things you wanted to accomplish, the things you were afraid you wouldn’t.

Michael listened lien he really listened as if you were the only girl in the world. At some point, you realized you weren’t thinking about the fact that he was Michael B. Jordan anymore. He was just Michael a man just sitting across from you and making you laugh. Now a man who remembered tiny details you’d mentioned weeks ago. And also a man who kept looking at you like he couldn’t believe you were sitting there.

A few weeks later, you were sitting together on his couch. Your head rested against his shoulder. He was watching you go through your script. “You know what I love?” You looked up. “Hmm?” “Watching you do this.”You smiled. “Perform?” “Yeah.” He brushed his thumb over your hand. “You become this completely different person.” You laughed. “Hopefully that’s the point.” “I know.” He looked at you. “But then the curtain closes…” He smiled. “And you’re still you.”

Your expression softened. “Is that a good thing?” “It’s my favorite thing.” You closed your script looking at him. “Michael?” “Hm?” “You know you’re my favorite audience member, right?” He smiled. “Even though I don’t know anything about theater?” “You know enough.” “What do I know?” You leaned closer. “That you like watching me.” He laughed. “That’s definitely true.”

Eventually, the night came when you had another opening. You were backstage, nerves running through you. Michael found you before the curtain. “You okay?”You nodded.n“I’m just nervous.” He took your hands. “You’ve done this a hundred times.” “I know but I can’t help it.” “You’re going to be amazing.” You smiled.

“What if I mess up?” He shook his head. “Then I’ll still be sitting there.” You looked at him. “Promise?” “Promise.” He kissed your forehead. “Go show them why you are amazing.” Your heart skipped as you smiled back.

The stage manager called, “Places!” “Thank you places!” You squeezed Michael’s hand. “Wish me luck.” “Break a leg.” You laughed. “Thank you.” You stepped onto the stage. The lights came up making the audience went silent. And somewhere in the darkness, Michael watched you.

The same way he’d watched you the first night. Except this time, he wasn’t a stranger sitting in the audience. He was your boyfriend and the person waiting for you when the curtain fell. And when the final applause filled the theater, you looked toward the audience. You found him standing clapping and smiling.

He smiled feeling very proud of you and you couldn’t help but smile back. Because somehow, the most beautiful part of your love story wasn’t that a famous actor had walked into a theater and fallen for an actress. It was that beneath all the fame two people had simply found each other. And every night when the curtain fell, Michael was there waiting for you.

rai-r

@_lighttt/instagram

deep-meadow-deactivated20260322

artisticestheticreads

“Don’t Hang Up On Me”

POV: You are about to head to brunch when your man Smoke calls but you hang up in his face... Huge mistake.

A/N: Okay y’all… we’re officially diving deeper into the chaos that is Elijah “Smoke” Moore and Y/N. 😭

This one shot is giving attitude, tension, stubbornness, and two people who swear they don’t need each other while clearly being obsessed. Smoke may have the reputation, the intimidating presence, and the “don’t play with me” energy that makes everybody else fall in line…

But Y/N?

Yeah… she’s different.

She’s the one person who isn’t scared to check him, challenge him, and remind him that he’s not always in control. And honestly? That’s exactly what drives him crazy about her.

Get ready for more back-and-forth, more drama, more chemistry, and the kind of love that comes with a little bit of fire. Because when these two get together, peace was never really an option. 😏

Enjoy the ride. ❤️

Warning: Angry!Boy Modern Smoke, rough sex. SMUT. Impregnation.

Word Count: 5054

Pairing: Elijah 'Smoke' Moore x Black!Female Reader

nathanbates

idyllicbarb

THE FIRST 82

thomas crown x black fem!sports journalist

It has been twenty two years since the NBA expanded its league.

Billionaire Thomas Crown plans to change that.

When Las Vegas is awarded its first-ever franchise, critics call it a publicity stunt. Fans call it a dream. The league calls it an experiment.

Challenged with building the Royals from the ground up, Thomas has one season to prove that the Royals’ are more than an expensive gamble. With the world fixated on Las Vegas, every decision, victory, and setback becomes part of a story no one can ignore.

Malia Vivienne Caldwell is a rising sports journalist who doesn’t take crap from anybody—not players, coaches, commissioners, or arrogant billionaire team owners. She’s assigned the task of documenting the Royals’ historic debut season. Malia’s determined to tell the truth, not sell another billionaire fairytale.

However, the more Malia interacts with the franchise, the harder it becomes to separate the story from the man behind it.

Over eighty-two games, player suspensions, league politics, impossible expectations, and a city learning to believe, Thomas and Malia navigate a relentless season where every headline matters, every decision is scrutinized, and the growing tension between them becomes impossible to ignore.

As Las Vegas fights to secure its place in the league and a heart in global sports history, Thomas promises to build a legacy that will outlive him, while Malia makes sure she tells the story exactly as she sees it—even when the truth brings her closer to the man she was never supposed to understand.

The more Malia continues to be around Thomas Crown, the harder it becomes to decide where the story ends and something far more dangerous begins.

And when the season concludes, Malia may discover that the greatest story of the first eighty-two games for an expansion franchise was never the one she was assigned to write.

LIFT OFF (JAY-Z ft. BEYONCÉ)

PICASSO BABY (JAY-Z)

OCEANS (JAY-Z ft. FRANK OCEAN)

BAD (MICHAEL JACKSON)

MY PREROGATIVE (BOBBY BROWN)

HOLY GRAIL (JAY-Z ft. JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE)

CRANES IN THE SKY (SOLANGE)

NO ORDINARY LOVE (SADE)

HEART PT. 6 (KENDRICK LAMAR)

WATCH ME DO MY THING (IMMATURE ft. SMOOTH & ED FROM GOOD BURGER)

COMING AFTER I FINISH THE CALL SHEET !

aizawash0e

order up........ ⭑.ᐟ

Mr. Get It Done

Smoke has no problem getting things done.

Mechanic!Smoke: Stands around 6’3, Southern specifically born and raised in Mississippi. Rarely ever been up North, got an offer to work for a company up there but decided not to leave home, his roots where there in the Mississippi dirt and he wasn’t gonna leave that. Him and his twin brother of course as thick as thieves. Their bond was inseparable. Stack and Smoke also always looked after their little sister Estelle, who they often called Star.

Mechanic!Smoke: Smoke was always a man of business and money, loved himself some R&B, specifically 90's and early 2000s R&B, as it's always blasting in the speakers of the auto shop all day.

That man is built ASF. I'm talking: lifting your body weight is his minimum lift; that shit is his warm-up. For him, growing up on a farm with his family, he was technically always working out. All that running back and forth with pails of milk his granddaddy had him and Stack doing was a damn workout in that heat, and the older he got, the more tasks and the heavier the load. Lifting the hay, carrying things. Working with cars since he was a teen was just training for him. He had been built!

Mechanic!Smoke: is romantic asf, tends to smell like oil, and will take a serious shower to make sure he smells good for his lady, for whatever date or occasion he has planned for you.

He loves working with his hands; the fact that he could break something down and build it back up again (including you) he held much pride in his hands, and his handiwork. The proof was always in the pudding; he never had a customer complain, never had the same customer come back twice with the same situation. He always made sure his work was done well, no bullshit. He believed if people were paying, they should get their money's worth.

When it came to you and Harmony, his life was never the same. Your daughter Harmony became a new pulse for Smoke. When he got to hold his little girl for the first time, tears filled his eyes with a smile, and in his eyes held a promise to never fail his daughter, that she would have the best possible life he could give her.

Smoke and Harmony were two peas in a pod, she would beg and he would hold strong, until she started the puppy eyes, it started to crush him and he would eventually with very much consideration cave.

He quite literally owes Stack because if it weren't for that day Stack brought you to the auto shop, who knew if you and Smoke would have ever met? And share the life you two do now. He was always grateful for the day he met you and the day your car decided to stop working. (Plus, Stack wouldn't shut up at Reader and Smoke's wedding, taking pride in his work and telling everyone that "if it weren't for me, they wouldn't be together, y'all know that, right?" as he drank a bit of whiskey in his glass and his arm around his cousin's shoulder "Like i brought her to the shop y'all know that right? And I was there and BOOM! I shot the arrow and look at them today, married!" Stack's wife giggled at his antics, but told him to calm down just a bit, as this is the moment of the married couple, not Mr. Cupid.

Mechanic!Smoke: Before the ring was even placed on your finger, he was calling you "My Wife" and telling everyone, "Mhm, my wife told me about that". He loved the way it sounded and rolled off the tongue, and loved hearing you say "Mr. Moore" or "My Husband" even more. Just you breathing in his direction was enough for him.

That man was and forever will be whipped for you.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

taglist: @liliacsdelight @cravemyhoney @mtcloudsworld @jellywrites1218 @h3avenlyglory @wrestlingbaby @blcknebula @phxnomxnal @thegetou @blackbarb1e @sintizc @xeebop @bananajoeclone @devilxo @writingsbytee

╰┈➤ ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓- if you’d like to be added comment here!!

butleraustins

MICHAEL B. JORDAN on night 2 of Jay-Z's 25th anniversary of "The Blueprint" at Yankee Stadium

lovefortvinc

Michael in The Thomas Crown Affair (Teaser) 🤎

midnightmemoirsofher

Two Kinds of Hunger

Pairing: John x Original Female Character (Kam)

Summary: In a support group, two people who thrive on impulse control find their restraint tested. John, a man who gets his thrill from friction and the risk of being caught, and Kam, a woman who craves the solid weight of a man, recognize a kindred hunger in each other. What starts as a silent acknowledgment in a circle of strangers spirals into a dangerous, public game on a crowded midnight train, where the only thing more thrilling than the act is the possibility of being seen.

Warnings: 18+ content, explicit sexual situations, public sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism, kink exploration.

nubianqueensworld

Sinful Desire

WARNINGS: 18+ only, SMUT, Threesome, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Mild Violence, Mention of Alcohol usage, etc.

PAIRING: Smokestack Twins x Black OC

SYNOPSIS: In Clarksdale, Mississippi, 23-year-old Mae James, dutiful preacher’s daughter, slips out for one forbidden night at the newly opened Club Juke. There she catches the eye of the club’s owners, the Smokestack twins. What begins as a simple escape from the pressure of expectation quickly draws her into a charged world of music, desire, and choices she never planned to make. By morning she must return to the church pews, but the night has already left its mark.

This is a long one, enjoy :)

————————————————

She moved like the night itself had poured into her body. The piano rolled low and dirty, a barrelhouse stride that made the floorboards complain under every stomping foot, and her hips answered it without permission. Skirt swinging just above the knee, blouse damp at the back from the heat of too many bodies packed into Club Juke, she let the rhythm take what the church had spent years trying to hold still.

Nobody here called her by her Sunday name. Here she was just another girl with sweat on her collarbone and a lie still warm on her tongue. Her daddy thought she was at Marlene’s helping with the new baby. Marlene would cover for her. They had an understanding. Preacher’s daughters always did.

The joint smelled of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and the sharp sweetness of liquor. She spun once, laughing under her breath, and the room tilted pleasantly. No one spoke to her. No one needed to. The music was enough.

Tomorrow she would stand in the church and open her mouth and let the old hymns come. Tonight the music was different.

Unbeknownst to her, the owners of the juke joint were looking at her. The Smokestack twins. As soon as she entered the building she stuck out, like an angel in a room full of devils. They observed her. Watched her.

She didn’t feel their eyes. The crowd moved around her like water around a stone, but she stayed inside the music with her eyes half-closed.

Upstairs from the shadowed railing that overlooked the floor, the twins stood still. Smoke drew on his cigarette, the tip glowing once, then fading. Stack stood beside him with a toothpick working slowly between his teeth. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their gazes tracked the same slow arc of her body, the way her shoulders rolled, the way her feet found the beat without looking for it.

They recognized her immediately. Mae James. Daughter of Reverend James, one of the most well-known preachers in Clarksdale besides their own uncle, of course. It wasn’t the first time church folk had crossed the threshold of Club Juke. Plenty came looking for the same release they chased on Sunday mornings. Only this time, no one was catching the Holy Ghost.

They stared longer.

Smoke drew once more on his cigarette, then gave a small nod toward the floor below. Stack’s mouth curved. He smoothed a hand over his hair, tugged the front of his suit vest straight, and headed down the stairs without a word. His eyes never left her body as he moved through the crowd of dancing bodies, cutting a clean path until he stood just behind her.

The sweet trail of her perfume reached him first.

“Now what’s a saint like you doing in a room full of sinners?”

Mae stopped. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a smile that had hints of gold. He held out his hand.

“The name is Elias,” he said, “but folks call me Stack.”

She placed her hand in his slowly, shaking it without looking away. “I know who you are. Thought you and your brother were in Chicago.”

Stack chuckled. “We were. But we back now.”

Her hand was still in his. She noticed it, yet didn’t pull away at once. She hadn’t expected him to look like this. The stories that drifted through Clarksdale had painted the Smokestack twins as older, harder, something rough enough to match the name. Instead she found round brown eyes, thick lips, and the soft press of dimples when he smiled. Stack’s smirk deepened the moment he caught her looking. Mae withdrew her hand.

Mae opened her mouth, realizing she hadn’t given her name.

“I’m Mae—”

“Mae James. Reverend James’s daughter, right?”

Her brows drew together. She nodded slowly, surprised he already knew.

Stack caught the look and tipped his head. “My uncle Jed and your daddy real close. Been that way a long time.”

Something shifted in her face—quick, quiet embarrassment, like she had been caught somewhere she didn’t belong. Stack saw it and didn’t like the way it sat on her.

“Hey now,” he said. “I ain’t down here to judge nobody. This place take all kinds.”

The piano changed beneath them, the hard barrelhouse roll softening into something slower. Couples drifted together across the floor, bodies finding each other, grinding to the new rhythm.

Stack’s gold teeth flashed again as he smiled.

“Matter fact,” he said, “I come down here to ask if you fancied a dance.”

Mae nodded.

Stack took her hand and turned her in a slow spin. The room tilted for a second before her back met his chest. His hands settled on her hips. The contact was warm through the thin fabric of her skirt. Goosebumps rose anyway. She went stiff almost immediately. It had been a long time since a man put his hands on her like this.

“Don’t be shy now,” Stack murmured near her ear. “Move them hips like you was doin’ earlier. Go on. Close your eyes… let loose.”

Mae drew a deep breath that trembled on the way out. She let her eyelids fall shut. For a moment she only stood there, feeling the press of him behind her, the rise and fall of his chest against her back. Then she began to move.

The first movements were careful, more sway than anything. Her hips barely shifted. Stack didn’t push. He just stayed with her, following whatever little rhythm she offered.

Bit by bit the stiffness eased. Not all the way but enough that her body started answering the beat without her having to force it. Stack’s grip tightened slightly when she finally rolled her hips with more intention. He matched her without missing the time, his own movement controlled behind her.

“Just like that,” he said.

Mae let her head tip back until it rested against his shoulder. His hands stayed on her hips, thumbs stroking once in quiet encouragement as she finally gave the music everything it asked for. Stress, doubt, the careful version of herself she wore in daylight slipped out with every slow roll of her body. For the first time all night, she wasn’t performing or hiding. She was simply moving. And Stack stayed right there with her, whispering soft praise against her ear, keeping her inside the moment as the piano played on.

Mae opened her eyes.

Smoke was still at the top of the stairs. Cigarette was between his fingers and leaned against the railing. His gaze cut down through the haze of smoke and low light and found her immediately. It wasn’t hungry exactly. It was focused. Like he was studying every shift of her body and filing it away. Her stomach tightened. She knew she ought to look somewhere else, anywhere else, but she couldn’t.

Stack’s hands stayed firm on her hips. Mae pushed back into him harder than before, rolling her hips with more confidence, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. The movement pulled a low sound from Stack’s throat. He drew her tighter against his chest, closing the last bit of space between them.

That was when she felt the hard press of his bulge against her. At the same time Smoke’s stare held her pinned from above. The two sensations hit together and ignited something low in her belly. Her panties dampened immediately, the sudden wetness noticeable against the thin fabric. She kept moving with her eyes still locked on the man upstairs even as her body reacted to the one behind her.

Smoke took one last drag of the cigarette . He held her gaze a little longer before he turned and walked out of sight. Stack’s breath stayed warm against her ear, but Mae could still feel the ghost of that stare.

Overwhelmed by the feeling, Mae turned in his arms. She gripped the front of his vest with both hands and pulled him down into a kiss before she could second-guess it.

Stack froze for a split second, clearly caught off guard. Then he answered her. His mouth opened against hers, and his hands slid low on her back, fingers spreading over the curve just above her hips as he drew her against him. The kiss turned deeper. His tongue pushed past her lips.

Mae’s pulse hammered. Part of her knew how reckless this was but the thought only sharpened the lust instead of killing it.

Before the kiss could tip any further Stack broke it. He kept his hands on her while he scanned the floor. Couples were still dancing close, lost in the music. Nobody seemed to be watching them too hard. His eyes flicked up to the railing. Smoke was gone.

He looked back down at her. “Joint fixin’ to close up soon. Stay behind after. We can finish what we started.”

Mae nodded. She rose onto her toes and kissed him again.

A worker shouldered through the dancers and touched Stack’s arm. “Boss. Got a problem in the back. Some men at the tables got to arguin’ over the cards. Gettin’ loud.”

Stack didn’t take his eyes off Mae right away. “What you do about it?”

“Tried to break it up myself. They ain’t tryin’ to hear me.”

Stack sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Fuck I’m payin’ you for then?” He gave Mae’s waist a final squeeze and stepped back. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go nowhere.”

Then he turned and cut through the crowd toward the rear of the joint.

Mae was still burning. She needed space. She slipped through the dancers and claimed an empty stool at the far end of the bar.

The piano changed under her. The number faded into something faster and brighter. Skirts flared. Boots stamped. Laughter rose over the music. Mae found herself swaying on the stool without deciding to.

She didn’t notice the man until he was already too close.

He was older than her, shirt half-untucked, eyes glassy and unfocused. The smell of liquor reached her before his words did. He leaned an elbow on the bar beside her and gave a crooked smile.

“I ain’t interested,” Mae said.

He didn’t take the hint. His hand closed around her upper arm. “Don’t be like that, girl. Come on—”

“Get off me.”

She tried to pull free. His grip only tightened. He bent until his mouth was near her ear, and the full reek of alcohol washed over her as he whispered that he wanted to fuck her. Mae’s stomach turned. She shoved at his chest with her free hand, but he barely swayed.

Then a different presence filled the space behind him.

“Get your hand off her.”

Smoke’s voice was quiet, but it cut through like a blade. The drunk glanced over his shoulder, annoyed more than alarmed.

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you, man. Mind your business.”

Smoke stepped in closer. “I don’t think you heard me.” His right hand settled at his waist, fingers curling around the grip of the gun holstered there. He didn’t pull it. He didn’t raise his voice. “You gon’ take your hand off her willin’, or I’m gon’ take it off for you.”

The fingers on Mae’s arm loosened. The man lifted both hands in a show of surrender and backed up a step, nearly stumbling into a dancing couple.

Smoke never looked away from him. “Get the fuck out. Don’t come back in here. Next time you step foot through that door, you won’t see daylight again. We clear?”

The drunk muttered something under his breath but he kept moving, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. A few people near the door glanced over, then went back to their drinks and their partners.

Smoke turned his full attention back to her.

“You alright?”

Mae nodded too quickly. “Yes.”

He studied her face a moment longer and clearly didn’t believe the automatic answer. The leftover adrenaline still showed in the tight set of her shoulders and the way her hands stayed curled on the bar.

“He hurt you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Smoke kept looking at her. Then he asked, “Can I touch you?”

The question caught her off guard. She hesitated half a second before nodding.

He stepped in and took her chin gently between his fingers, turning her face first one way, then the other. His gaze was hard, brows drawn together as he checked for any mark the man might have left. Finding none, he released her jaw and carefully lifted her arm, examining the place where the drunk’s hand had gripped her. His thumb brushed once over the skin

Mae used the moment to look at him properly. The same handsome features as Stack but everything on Smoke sat harder, like the years had pressed down heavier on him. There was a roughness around the edges that Stack’s easier smile softened. When his eyes lifted and met hers again she looked away fast.

“Might be a little tender right there,” he said. “But you gon’ be fine.”

Mae nodded. “Thank you.”

Smoke stayed where he was. “What you doin’ in here, anyway? Don’t you got church in the mornin’?”

She let out a short breath. “I’m supposed to sing in the choir. My daddy’s church. I just… needed a break. He’s always got me doin’ something for the church. I told him I was goin’ to my friend Marlene’s to help with her new baby. But I came here instead.” She glanced around the noisy floor. “I just wanted one night where nobody expected me to be the preacher’s daughter.”

Smoke listened without interrupting. When she finished he gave a short sound that might have been a laugh.

“You ain’t supposed to be in a place like this,” he said. “This joint full of drunks, liars, and cheaters. Ain’t no secret about it.”

Mae met his eyes for a second, then looked back down at the bar. “So is the church. They just do a better job at hidin’ it.”

Smoke studied her a moment longer.

“Most church girls would’ve run out the door after what just happened.”

“I’m not most church girls.”

“I’m startin’ to see that.” His eyes stayed on her. “Don’t mean this is a safe place for somebody like you.”

Mae held his gaze. “Maybe I got tired of safe.”

Smoke just looked at her. This time Mae stared right back. Neither of them spoke. The space between them felt charged, heavy with something that had no clean name.

Stack appeared at his brother’s shoulder and gave it a firm pat, breaking the moment. “I’m ‘bout to get on stage and tell everybody we closin’ up for the night.” His eyes shifted to Mae. “You alright?”

She told him what had happened with the drunk man. Stack’s expression changed fast. The easy charm he usually carried hardened into something sharper.

“He put his hands on you?” His voice rose half a step. “You sure you good? He hurt you anywhere?”

Before he could work himself up any further, Smoke cut in. “I handled it.”

Stack held his brother’s gaze for a second, then nodded. His eyes moved back and forth between Smoke and Mae, lingering longer on Smoke. Mae watched the silent exchange closely. Whatever passed between the twins needed no words. She couldn’t read fully into it, but a certainty settled in her chest that it had something to do with her. Maybe it was only ego talking. Maybe not.

Stack leaned in close enough that only she could hear. “Don’t go nowhere.” The words were low, almost a promise. He glanced at Smoke one more time before he turned and made his way toward the stage to deliver the closing announcement.

Smoke’s attention returned to Mae the moment his brother left. His eyes traveled over her slowly—first her eyes, then the shape of her mouth, then lower, taking in the line of her body with an intensity that felt almost physical. A visible shudder ran through her under that look. When his gaze finally climbed back to meet hers, he spoke just loud enough to cut through the noise of the room.

“You trouble, Ms. James.”

Then he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with the weight of those words still on her skin.

The heat from earlier rose again, stronger this time. Mae stayed where she was and waited for the joint to close so she could be tamed.

—————————————————————————

Once everyone was gone and the front door locked, Stack led her toward the back. The joint felt different emptied out. Mae glanced around as they walked, eyes searching the shadows near the bar and the stairs. Smoke was nowhere to be found. The absence sat with her longer than she expected.

Stack opened the office door and guided her inside. The moment it clicked shut behind them, his hands settled on her waist. He pulled her against him and brought their mouths together in a kiss. There was nothing hesitant about it. He walked her backward while they kissed until the backs of her legs bumped against something soft.

She broke the kiss just long enough to look down.

They had a bed in their office?

Before the question could fully form, Stack eased her down onto the mattress and followed. The springs gave under their combined weight. He settled between her thighs, hands sliding under her legs to wrap them around his waist. The motion pushed her skirt higher, bunching the fabric around her hips and leaving only the thin barrier of her damp panties between them.

He dipped his head and pressed his mouth to the side of her neck. A low sound left him as he breathed her in.

“Damn… you smell sweet.”

His lips traveled slowly up the line of her jaw before finding her mouth again. This time the kiss was deeper. He rolled his hips once, grinding the clothed length of his bulge against her pussy. The friction pulled a moan from both of them at the same time.

Stack slowed the roll of his hips until the grinding stopped completely. He leaned down and gave her one more kiss before he pushed up onto his hands so he hovered over her. His eyes moved across her face.

“Are you a virgin, baby?”

Mae shook her head against the pillow. “No. But it’s been a while.”

“It has?”

She nodded once.

Stack’s gaze dropped between their bodies and landed on the damp patch of her panties. He reached down and dragged two fingers slowly over the soaked cotton, pressing just enough to feel the wetness of her. A small shiver ran through Mae at the touch. He watched the reaction and chuckle.

“Look at that.”

He eased backward off the bed and stood at the foot of it. For a moment he only looked at her. Then he shrugged out of his suit vest and tossed it onto the nearby chair.

“Unbutton your shirt for me.”

Mae’s hands rose to the front of her blouse. She worked each button free one by one. When the last one opened she sat up just enough to slip the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor beside the bed.

Stack’s eyes traveled over newly exposed skin. “Pretty as hell.”

He reached up, loosened the knot of his tie, and pulled the silk free with a slide. He dropped it on top of the vest, then untucked his dress shirt and began unbuttoning it from the top down. Mae stayed where she was, propped on her elbows now, watching the slow reveal of his chest and stomach without looking away.

“You nervous?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I need words, baby.”

“Yes.”

Stack studied her face a second longer. “Music help you feel better?”

“Yes.”

He turned and crossed to the corner of the office where an old phonograph sat on a low wooden cabinet. Stack lifted the lid, chose a record from the small stack beside it, and set the disc on the turntable. He cranked the handle a few turns, lowered the needle, and Ma Rainey’s rich voice crackled to life.

Stack turned back to her, shirt hanging open, and let his eyes travel over her again while the music played.

The door opened without warning.

Smoke stepped inside. His eyes went straight to Mae.

Mae’s breath caught. Shock flashed across her face clearer than fear. Her head turned toward Stack, searching for some explanation or cue.

Stack stayed where he was at the foot of the bed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Ain’t nothin’ gon’ happen you don’t want. Next choice is yours.”

Smoke pushed the door shut behind him until the latch clicked. The sound felt louder than it should have in the small room. Ma Rainey’s voice kept drifting from the phonograph as he walked a few steps closer. He stopped near the edge of the bed but didn’t reach for her.

“We both been watchin’ you since you walked in,” he said. “Wantin’ you. We was just tryin’ to see how open you was to the both of us.”

He let that settle for a second.

“You got three choices,” Smoke continued. “We can get you dressed and take you home right now. No questions, no hard feelin’s. Or you can have just Stack… or just me. Or—” his eyes moved once over her body and back to her face—“you can have both of us.”

Stack’s voice came softer beside his brother’s.

“It’s your choice, baby.”

Mae sat there with the two of them watching her. Her mind turned over the offer slowly. Both men were attractive and different in the ways that mattered. She was drawn to both of them, heavily. The question that kept circling was simple and dangerous: what would it feel like to have them both? The thought alone made her pussy pulse again.

“I want both,” she said.

Smoke’s eyes stayed locked on hers. “You sure?”

“Yes.” The word came out quieter than she intended. Then the need underneath it pushed forward. “Please… I want both of you.”

The soft plea made Smoke’s dick twitch hard against the front of his pants. Stack looked over at his brother. Smoke met his eyes and gave a single nod.

That was all Stack needed. He came back to the bed and put his mouth on Mae’s neck. He kissed the skin first, then sucked harder, dragging his tongue over the spot until a moan slipped out of her. Her arms rose and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer while her body arched into the contact.

Over Stack’s shoulder her eyes found Smoke again. He was already stripping. His fingers moved steadily down the remaining buttons of his shirt, the fabric falling open to show the hard lines of his chest and stomach. When he noticed her watching he didn’t look away or rush. He held her gaze and kept unbuttoning, letting her see every inch he revealed.

Stack’s hand slid between her thighs at the same moment. He pressed his fingers against her pussy through the soaked cotton of her panties, rubbing a line over her clit. The direct touch dragged a louder moan from her throat. Her eyes fell shut under the sensation as he head tipped back against the mattress.

Stack pulled back from her neck and looked at her.

“Stand up for me, baby.”

Mae shifted to the edge of the mattress and rose. Her legs trembled a little under her own weight. Stack’s hands came to her waist immediately, steadying her so she wouldn’t stumble.

Smoke moved in behind her. His palms ran slowly up and down her arms first before one hand slid around and gripped her breast through the thin fabric of her bra. Mae’s head tipped back against his shoulder on instinct.

Stack’s voice was low. “Me and Smoke gon’ take real good care of you.”

Smoke’s mouth was close to her ear. “Anytime it get to be too much, you say the word and we stop."

“Okay,” Mae breathed.

Smoke turned her face toward him with two fingers under her chin and kissed her. The first press of his mouth was firmer than Stack’s had been and a soft moan left her at the new sensation. She kissed him back while her body stayed framed between the two of them.

At the same time Stack leaned in and kissed a slow path down from her chest to her stomach. He sank to his knees in front of her. His fingers hooked into the waistband of both her skirt and her panties and drew them down together in one motion. The fabric pooled at her ankles.

He was met with the sight of her pretty, neatly trimmed pussy which was already glossy and creamy. A moan left Stack’s throat at the view.

“Damn, baby… look at you.”

Behind her, Smoke unclipped her bra with one hand. The straps slid down her arms and the garment fell away. His hands came up immediately, warm palms covering her bare breasts, thumbs stroking over her nipples as he kept kissing her.

Stack lifted one of Mae’s legs and settled it firmly over his shoulder. His hands locked on her hips, holding her so she wouldn’t slip between them. The position opened her completely to his mouth. He didn’t start slow. He dragged the flat of his tongue through her soaked folds in one long stroke from the bottom of her pussy all the way up to her clit.

Mae’s moan tore out of her louder than before. “Oh my God… fuck, that’s so good—”

Stack groaned against her like the taste alone was enough to ruin him. He went deeper, licking her open with no patience left. His tongue pushed between her lips and fucked into her in short thrusts, scooping up the cream that was already coating her. He pulled out only to suck her clit between his lips and bat it with the tip of his tongue until her standing leg started to shake. Every time she tried to close her thighs he gripped her hips tighter and held her open.

He spread her with his thumbs so he could see everything, spat directly on her swollen clit, and watched it drip before sucking it back into his mouth with a loud sound. His tongue worked in circles, then flattened again so he could lick her from hole to clit in long strokes that left her glistening and dripping down his chin. When he pushed two fingers inside her while he kept sucking, the wet suck of her pussy around them made him moan harder into her.

Behind her, Smoke’s hands never stopped. He cupped her bare breasts, thumbs dragging over her nipples before pinching and rolling them until they were stiff.

“Listen how wet you are. You gon’ cum on his tongue, Mae?”

Mae’s arms moved without thinking. One slid up and wrapped around the back of Smoke’s neck. The other reached down and gripped the back of Stack’s head.

“I’m about to cum—” she gasped.

She forced her eyes open and looked down. Stack was already staring up at her, gaze locked on hers even as his tongue dragged through her soaked folds and sucked hard on her clit. The sight of him on his knees, mouth glistening with her, face buried between her thighs, shoved her right to the edge.

Smoke’s mouth stayed close to her ear.

“Cum for us.”

Mae’s body locked up. A violent shake ran through her as the orgasm tore free. She came with a high moan, pulsing hard against his mouth and spilling over his tongue, lips, and chin until his face was wet with her. Stack only gripped her hips tighter and kept licking her while Smoke held her upright from behind as she trembled between them.

Once the shaking finally eased and her breathing started to even out, Stack slid his hands under her and lifted her easily. He carried her the short distance to the bed and laid her down on her back against the mattress. Behind them, Smoke worked his belt open and pushed his pants down.

Stack looked at her. “I need to be inside you.”

Mae responded. “Then stop talkin’ and put it in me.”

Stack’s mouth curved into a smirk. He stepped back, undid his own belt, and let his pants and underwear fall. Both brothers stood naked in front of her now. The sight made her pussy clench hard. They were similar in length, but Smoke was longer and Stack was thicker.

“Open your legs,” Stack said. “Spread yourself for us.”

Mae did as she was told. Her knees fell open wide and her hands reached down, fingers spreading her own folds apart so nothing was hidden. The brothers went quiet for a second as they looked. Her pussy was still flushed and swollen from the orgasm, the neat trim of hair framing her glistening lips that were parted and shiny with her release. Cream coated the inner folds and had dripped down to the tight pucker beneath. Her clit sat swollen and exposed at the top, still sensitive enough that the cool air of the room made her twitch.

Smoke let out a low curse under his breath. Stack only smirked again, eyes locked between her legs.

They moved in together. Stack settling between her thighs while Smoke stayed at her side. Smoke’s hand brushed her arm.

“ ‘Member what I said. It get to be too much, you tell us. We stop.”

Mae nodded, eyes flicking between them.

Stack took his dick in hand and dragged the thick head up and down through her soaked folds. Then he pushed forward slowly, stretching her open until he was fully seated inside. He stayed still, jaw tight, giving both of them time to adjust to the sudden sensation.

Mae’s hand shot out and gripped his forearm, fingers digging in as she breathed through the full feeling of him.

Smoke’s voice stayed quiet beside her. “That’s it. You doin’ good.”

Stack’s eyes met hers. “Can I move?”

When she gave a small nod, he pulled back and pushed in again. A shared moan broke from both of them. Stack cursed under his breath.

Stack kept moving inside her. His hands stayed firm on her hips, guiding every stroke so he sank all the way in each time.

“Shit… you feel so good,” he groaned. “So tight and wet around me. Keep takin’ it just like that.”

Beside the bed, Smoke wrapped a hand around his own dick and stroked slowly, eyes locked on Mae’s face. He watched every scrunch of her brow and every open-mouthed sound that left her while his brother fucked her.

Mae reached over without looking and pushed Smoke’s hand away. Her fingers closed around the length of his dick and began stroking him in the same rhythm Stack was using inside her. Smoke’s reaction was immediate. His eyebrows furrowed tight and his head tipped back as a low groan rolled out of his throat.

With her other hand Mae grabbed Stack’s jaw and pulled him down. Their mouths met in a deep kiss, both of them moaning into it while Stack kept thrusting and her fist kept working Smoke’s dick. Stack broke the kiss just long enough to speak against her lips.

“Goddamn, you feel too good… don’t stop squeezin’ me like that. Just like that, baby.”

Then he kissed her again while Smoke’s heavy breathing stayed close on her other side and the three of them moved together in the small room.

Mae did something unexpected. She tilted her head to the side, parted her lips, and took the head of Smoke’s dick into her mouth.

“Shit—” The word left Smoke, almost startled, as the wetness of her mouth closed around him.

She didn’t pull back. She took him deeper, cheeks hollowing as she sucked, tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft. At the same time Stack kept thrusting into her, every stroke making her breasts bounce softly between them.

Stack watched the two of them for a second and let out a breathless laugh. “Damn, baby. Church girl got a real dirty side, huh?” He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, then leaned down and pulled it into his mouth. He sucked hard, and the sudden sensation dragged a muffled moan out of Mae around Smoke’s cock. The vibration made Smoke’s hips twitch.

Smoke looked down at her. One hand settled lightly at the back of her head.

“That’s it,” he said. “Keep goin’.”

Mae’s eyes flicked up to meet his for a brief second before they fluttered shut again.

Stack kept thrusting into her while Mae’s mouth worked over Smoke. He shifted his weight and reached down between them, finding her clit with two fingers. He rubbed circles in time with every stroke.

Mae pulled off Smoke’s cock with a wet sound, head tipping back as a broken moan left her.

“I’m about to cum again—”

Stack’s voice stayed close. “That’s it, baby. Let it go. Cum on this dick for me. I got you.”

Before the next cry could fully leave her throat, Smoke’s hand came up, caught her jaw, and turned her face to his. He kissed her hard, swallowing the sound as the orgasm hit. Mae shook hard between them, pussy clenching tight around Stack while she moaned into Smoke’s mouth. Wetness spilled out of her with every pulse, coating Stack’s dick and dripping down onto the sheets.

Stack kept moving through it, slower now, riding out the orgasm with her. When the worst of the trembling eased he kissed the side of her face and spoke against her skin.

“Good girl. You did so good for us.”

Smoke pulled back from the kiss, still close enough that his breath brushed her mouth.

“You alright?”

“Yes.”

“You got one more round in you?”

Mae nodded.

Stack’s voice cut in. “Words, baby. ‘Member what I told you.”

“Yes,” she said out loud.

Smoke gave a short nod. “Good. Get on your knees.”

Mae shifted onto her hands and knees on the mattress. The sheets were already damp beneath her. Smoke moved in behind her, one hand settling on the small of her back to steady her. Stack knelt in front of her. He cupped her face in both hands, thumbs brushing slow over her cheeks.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “You so pretty.”

Behind her, Smoke leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the center of her back, then another a little lower, right above the curve of her ass.

“You ready for me?” Smoke asked.

Mae started to nod. Stack clicked his tongue softly.

“Aht aht. Use your words, now.”

“Yes.”

Stack’s mouth curved into a smile. “Good girl.”

Smoke took himself in hand and lined the head of his dick up against her. He pushed in slow. Mae was still sensitive from the last orgasm. The length of him pulled a broken moan straight out of her throat. Smoke sank all the way in until his hips met her ass, then held dead still. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him in small pulses while she tried to breathe.

“Easy,” Smoke muttered. “Just breathe. I ain’t movin’ till you ready.”

Only when her arms stopped trembling and her breathing started to even out did he begin to move.

Stack rubbed the wet head of his dick across her lips, smearing himself over them. Mae looked up at him through her lashes, opened her mouth, and took him in.

Smoke’s pace picked up. The sharp sound of skin meeting skin filled the small office, mixing with the low crackle of Ma Rainey on the phonograph and the overlapping moans and grunts of all three of them. Stack’s hand stayed gentle in her hair while he watched her take both of them, and Smoke’s grip on her hip stayed firm as he fucked her deeper.

Smoke’s grip tightened on her hip as he kept driving into her.

“You like both of us fuckin’ you like this?” His voice was husky. “This what you wanted?”

Mae’s answer came out muffled around Stack’s dick, “Mhm.”

The sound shot straight through Stack. His head tipped back, a deep moan leaving his throat as her mouth kept working him.

Behind her, Smoke looked down. The sight of her ass rippling against his stomach with every thrust pulled a curse out of him. Her cream had already coated his cock, leaving wet streaks along his dick every time he pulled back.

Stack’s breathing turned heavier. His hand flexed in her hair.

“Shit, baby… you keep suckin’ me like that, you ‘bout to make me cum.”

Mae started pushing back to meet every one of Smoke’s thrusts, throwing her ass against him hard while her hand slipped down to cup and roll Stack’s balls in her palm. The motion dragged deeper sounds out of both men.

Smoke’s hand came down in a stinging smack across one cheek. Stack let out a breathless chuckle, eyes low as he watched her work both of them.

Smoke’s was focused on the way she kept pushing back onto him. “Cum on this dick. Let me feel that shit.”

Mae did. The orgasm tore through her suddenly. Her whole body jerked, pussy clamping down tight and spilling fresh cream around him.

The sound of her cumming pulled both of them over the edge right behind her. Smoke pulled out with a rough curse and stroked himself twice before painting thick ropes across her back and the curve of her ass. At the same time Stack slipped from her mouth and came across her cheeks and lips with a broken groan.

For a long moment the only sounds in the office were their uneven breathing and the soft crackle of the phonograph needle at the end of the record.

Stack recovered first. “Shit—sorry ‘bout that, baby. Hold on now.”

He moved quick, grabbing two clean cloths from the small washstand in the corner. He tossed one to his brother and kept the other. Smoke wiped the mess from her back with careful strokes. Stack tilted her chin up with two fingers and cleaned her face just as carefully.

When they were done they eased her down onto her side on the bed, rearranging the pillow under her head so she’d be comfortable. Both men started gathering their clothes in the low light.

Mae just watched them from the mattress. Awe sat on her face as she took in the two of them getting dressed like what had just happened was both ordinary and completely unreal at the same time.

———————————————————

Once Mae was dressed again, the twins offered to take her home and she agreed.

Smoke stayed behind a moment to lock the front door of the joint while Stack walked her out to the car. He opened the rear door for her and waited until she was settled in the back seat before closing it gently. Then he climbed into the front passenger side and turned halfway so he could see her.

For a short while it was just the two of them in the car.

Stack spoke first. “You doin’ alright back there? Ain’t no shame if you need a minute.”

Mae looked at the back of his seat. “I’m alright. Just tired.”

He gave a small nod. “Long night. You handled yourself better than most would’ve.”

Before she could answer, the driver’s door opened and Smoke slid behind the wheel. He glanced at her then at his brother.

“Where you stay at?”

Mae gave him the street name and the crossroads near her father’s house. Smoke nodded once. He knew the area well enough.

“Alright.”

He started the engine and pulled away from the curb. For a few blocks the only sound was the low rumble of the car and the occasional soft thump of the tires over uneven road. Then the brothers fell into conversation like she wasn’t even there.

“Delivery came up short again,” Smoke said, eyes on the road. “Whiskey and the beer. Man claimed the truck had trouble outside Greenville.”

Stack sucked his teeth. “That’s the second time this month. We keep lettin’ it slide, he gon’ think we soft.”

“I already told him next short load we take our business elsewhere. He didn’t like hearin’ it.”

“Good. What about the door? Weekend crowd gettin’ thicker. That boy we got now too slow when it get packed.”

Smoke’s hands stayed steady on the wheel. “I been thinkin’ the same. Might bring Cornbread in on Friday and Saturday. He know how to keep folks in line without startin’ more trouble than he stop.”

Mae stayed quiet in the back seat, hands folded in her lap, eyes on the dark road sliding past them. She tried not to listen too hard, giving them the space to handle their own affairs. Her mind, though, refused to stay still.

The whole night replayed itself in pieces. She wondered how much of it had been planned. Had the man at the bar been random chance, or had one of them let the situation play out so Smoke could step in looking like a savior? Had he really been defending her… or had he just been clearing the path so both of them could get in her panties later?

The questions sat heavy in her chest.

A stretch of silence settled over the car after the brothers finished talking business.

Mae shifted in the back seat, fingers twisting together in her lap. The questions that had been circling her mind the whole ride finally pushed their way up.

“Can I say somethin’?”

“Go ‘head,” Stack said.

Mae drew a thin breath. “Was everything planned? The man at the bar… you showin’ up right when you did… all of it?”

Another silence settled, thicker than the first. The longer it stretched, the more she regretted asking. She opened her mouth to take it back, already stumbling toward an apology, but Smoke spoke before she could get the words out.

“You ain’t got no reason to apologize.” He kept his eyes on the road. “I meant what I did back there. I don’t care for seein’ no woman get disrespected like that. Wasn’t no setup. Man put his hands on you, I handled it. That’s all.”

Stack turned more fully in his seat so he could look at her straight.

“He’s tellin’ the truth. But we ain’t gon’ sit here and lie to you either. We felt somethin’ the second you walked through that door. Way you moved, way you carried yourself. Stood out from everybody else in the room.” He let a small smile pull at his mouth. “And look at you… sexy as hell. Hard not to notice a woman like that.”

The blunt compliment caught her off guard. A surprised laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it. Stack chuckled with her. In the driver’s seat Smoke just shook his head once, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smile of his own.

“Smokestack twins don’t fake nothin’,” Smoke said. “Never have. If we want somethin’, we go after it. Simple as that. Don’t need to play games to do it.”

Stack’s voice softened again. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, baby. Not with us.”

The words settled over the heavy doubts that had been sitting in her chest since they left the joint. Bit by bit the tight feeling loosened.

They pulled up in front of her house.The street was still quiet. Most of the windows along the block were dark, and the only sound was the low idle of the engine.

Stack got out first. He came around to the rear door and opened it for her, offering a hand as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Once she was steady on her feet he pulled her into a quick hug and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

Mae glanced past his shoulder toward the driver’s side. Smoke sat behind the wheel, one wrist resting on top of it. When their eyes met he gave her a single nod.

“I enjoyed myself,” Mae said.

Smoke’s answered. “We glad you did.”

Stack’s mouth curved into a smile . “Don’t be a stranger, now. You welcome back anytime. Door’s open.” He reached for her hand, lifted it, and kissed the back of her knuckles before letting go.

As she started up the short walk toward the porch, Stack called after her.

“Sing good at church in the mornin’, you hear?”

Mae felt a real laugh rise in her chest. She shook her head without turning around. She unlocked the front door, slipped inside, and closed it softly.

For a moment she simply stood in the dark entryway, back against the wood, letting the silence of the house settle around her. Then she moved to the front window, pinched the curtain between two fingers, and drew it back only an inch. Outside, the car’s headlights swept across the street as Smoke pulled away from the curb. She watched the glow of the car shrink and finally disappear around the corner, leaving the block empty and quiet again.

Mae walked deeper into the quiet house. The floorboards creaked softly under her feet. At the end of the short hall a door stood cracked open, a thin line of light cutting across the dark floor. Soft gospel music drifted out.

She hesitated a second, then pushed the door open a little wider.

Reverend James sat at his desk in the small study, Bible open under the lamp, a yellow legal pad covered in his careful handwriting. A half-empty glass of water sat near his elbow. He looked up and offered her a smile.

“You’re back late.”

Mae kept her voice calm. “Me and Marlene lost track of time. The baby was fussy most of the evening. We got to talkin’ after he finally settled.”

He studied her face for a moment in the lamplight. She held still and let him look. Finally he simply nodded.

“Get some rest. Church in the mornin’.”

“Yes, sir.”

She closed the door with care so the latch wouldn’t sound too loud and stood alone in the dark hallway. Her eyes fell shut. Guilt settled heavy and immediate in her chest. Two sins in one night. She knew both were wrong. But underneath the guilt lived the memory of how good it had felt. The two feelings refused to cancel each other out. They simply sat side by side and made her heart beat harder.

Mae went to her bedroom and undressed in the dark. The air cooled her bare skin. She left the clothes in a small pile and walked into the narrow bathroom, turning the taps until hot water thundered into the claw-foot tub. While it filled she stood in front of the mirror above the sink. She lifted her hands and let them follow the path the twins’ hands had taken. She slowly went across her arms, up the side of her neck, over the curve of her breasts, then lower between her thighs where she was still sensitive and a little sore. The memories rose vivid and immediate. She pulled her hand away before the feeling could climb any higher and forced herself to focus on the bath instead.

When the water was steaming she stepped in and sank down slowly until it closed over her shoulders. A involuntary moan left her throat at the simple heat of it. She rested her head against the curved back of the tub and let her eyes close.

In a way the water felt like washing the night from her skin, preparing her mind for the choir loft and the hymns. She knew she would stand there in a few hours and open her mouth and let the old songs come out clean and pure, exactly as expected. She also knew, with the same certainty that lived under the guilt, that this would not be the last time she saw the Smokestack twins.

——————————————

Two 👏🏾 bad 👏🏾 bitches👏🏾 at the same 👏🏾damn 👏🏾 time! Told y’all it would be worth the wait! Thank you for your patience and I really hope y’all enjoyed it!

midnightmemoirsofher

Stolen Sweetness

Pairing: Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Angela Davis

Summary: At a summer cookout, a quiet storm begins to brew. Angela, a woman settled in a comfortable life, finds herself drawn to her daughter's boyfriend's enigmatic older twin brother, Elijah. He's a man of few words but a magnetic presence, seeing the hunger she keeps hidden. What starts as lingering glances across a crowded backyard spirals into a dangerous game of stolen moments in kitchens and garages, forcing Angela to confront the life she thought she wanted and the one she's suddenly desperate to claim.

Warnings: 18+ content, explicit sexual situations, adultery, age gap (mid 20s x late 40s), almost caught themes, voyeurism, power dynamics, strong language.

notapradagurl

Beg For It.

Black Fem!Reader x Elias ‘Stack’ Moore.

A/N: Stack being submissive for his girl, enjoy!🙂‍↕️😏🤏🏽🤏🏽

Summary: You asked Stack if he’s open to being submissive, and he obliged. Little did you know. He had a secret sex room hidden down below his own house, once you were shown the room. You brought your A-game, while he obeyed your every command like he trained by you.

Warnings: BDSM, soft!Stack, begging, a submissive Stack, male whimpering, rough sex, slight angst, dirty talk, light praise, degradation, choking kink, dom!reader, consensual for both parties, raw sex, cumshots, glasses kink, creampie, manhandling?

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Normally, Stack was the dominant one in the bedroom. You were both submissive and dominant yourself. You prefer to switch it up, and show off just as he did. For Stack, he would fuck you roughly or slow but passionately when he loved you deeply, his hand around your neck, his half-lidded eyes on your every reaction. Stack loved to tease, talking his shit, and

He would drag out his thrusts just to hear your moans longer, and just to make you cum, and, squirt, again and again. Stack would often have you ride him, take control as he looked up at you, in love, wanting, desire in the view of beauty.

A part of you couldn’t help wondering why he was so nasty? Was he always like that? Was Stack taught some things by all sorts of different black women through experiences? He must’ve been taught that pleasure was more for women, than his own. Studied. Perfected. Practiced until he was the way he is now.

Maybe his perspective changed over the years? Either way, you had questions of your own.

But the question that really tugged at you? Would Stack be open to being submissive for you? Let you take the lead as many times as you liked.

He couldn't be the only one dominant in the bedroom. You were as well.

Maybe he can wear handcuffs as you ride him? Handcuffs included or not, just so he couldn’t touch you.

That one little fantasy of yours played in your mind like a movie, vivid scenes of you standing over Stack while he was on his hands, and knees.

You sat criss-crossed on the couch with your eyes glued to the television, watching a marathon of random movies, some of which you were familiar with, some you weren't. You pushed your glasses to the bridge of your nose.

Stack was set to return home early tonight because he and Smoke had finally secured the holiday week off from their jobs together. Various ways of income to pay off everything on their own business. Fast money.

You reached for a bag of chocolate turtles on the coffee table, and shoved one in your mouth, and held the remote in your hand, lowering the volume. Just as you heard a car pull up in the driveway of the house.

You heard his Cadillac rumbling outside as the vehicle came to a gentle stop, rumbling on a fresh tank of gas.

Old school R&B belting through his car speakers, thumbing, rattling from the exterior of his car.

Adina Howard's "Freak" started playing, the chorus kicking in perfectly as Stack let the lyrics draw you and the neighbors in. Loud. Abrupt.

I want a freak in the morning, freak in the evening.

Just like me.

I need a roughneck nigga that can satisfy me.

If you are that kind of man.

‘Cause I’m that kind of a girl.

Stack has been blasting a lot of freaky music from the decade, as you assume that he was giving out hints to you, here, and there. You noticed it, but you haven’t said anything yet.

You didn’t want to come off too forward to Elias, still, he was a big ol’ freak with standards of his own in the bedroom. What he was into, or what he wasn’t into. He knew when to stop immediately, ask, and check for his girl to make sure that you were comfortable.

If you weren’t, then it’s okay too.

Stack killed the engine. Your lip curled into a mischievous smirk, heat blooming through your face. He made it back in one piece, safe and sound.

“He's home…” You mumbled, clutching the heart-shaped pillow close to your chest.

The click of shoes against the concrete, and darkwood resounding from outside, the jaggle of house keys in hand, the twist of both locks. The door swung open, revealing Stack in an oversized hoodie, chocolate brown, and matching sweatpants. Timberlands, and socks on his feet.

He closed the door behind himself, kicked off his shoes. Hurried his way to you near the couch, his hands mushed your face together. Stack kissed you all over your face, lips, nose, forehead, and cheeks as many as he could. Fogging up your glasses, you chuckled softly.

“Hi, boo. You missed me?” You inquired playfully, grinning between the kisses he gave.

Before he could pull away, he kissed your lips twice just for affection again. “I always miss you, and now I get to spend more time with my girl…”

“You good? How was work today?” Stack asks, his southern drawl spills over, warm, and thick like molasses. He hopped over the couch to sit beside you.

“Yeah, I’m cool. It was okay. How about you?” You lay your head on his shoulder, and his lip curled into a cheerful smile.

Stack shrugged like it was a usual day. “A’ight. All I look forward is my brother and I getting the money. I’m good.”

“As long as you’re good. That’s what matters.” You mention, your hand curled around his buff arm, soft, still firm.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You passed the remote to Stack, as he grabbed it from you.

“What’s your mind?” Stack’s eyes flickered to the television mounted on the wall. He flipped through channels, the light rays of vibrant colors glistening across his brown skin, and yours.

“I want to be fully dominant this time. You know? Would you be open to being submissive?” You asked, swallowing once. The sound came soft enough for him not to hear.

“You serious? I've been wanted to try it out,” Stack confessed, his southern drawl spilling out, deepening with a raspy. his hand on your neck. His thumb swiped across his gold chain.

“Really? I've never taken you for the submissive type, Elias. Have you done like that before?” You took a sip from your water bottle, as your brown eyes locked with your boyfriend’s.

Stack nodded understandably, his eyes darted to you. “Yeah, I have. Some women prefer it that way, and it’s cool with me.” He shrugged like it was casual.

“Good. You want a chocolate turtle?” You asked, pointing to the bag of chocolate turtles on the coffee table.

“Yeah. Feed it to me,” Stack added, his face leaning in close but not too close. His voice dropped to a sexy rasp, sent a tingling warmth through your thighs.

Your fingers picked out a chocolate turtle, and moved toward his mouth, Stack’s mouth wrapped around chocolate turtle, subtly around your finger, his tongue swiped over the piece of chocolate, biting into the treat, caramel spilling over his tongues, bits of pecan fell in. He moaned hoarsely at the taste, pushing it in.

He eat the entire piece of chocolate turtle, swallowed it fast, the sound was soft, as his brown eyes flickered to the television, and back to you.

“You like it? Some may not like chocolate, caramel and pecans together but I do. My mom liked them.” You asked, a brow rose at him, twisting the cap on your water bottle.

Stack nodded eagerly, humming in response. “Yeah, they real good.” His tongue swiped over his lips. He reached for the bottle of Gatorade, twisting the cap off before sipping it down.

“Um. Elias, can I ask something a little unhinged, and out of pocket?” You chuckled sheepishly, your hand on the nape of your neck.

“Yeah, you know you can ask me anything, Y/n.” Stack shrugged it off like it was nothing. But you had to mentally prepare to ask it.

“Do you have a sex room downstairs?” You asked too fast, your voice came out nervously but steady enough that it caught him off guard.

Stack almost choked on his Gatorade, coughing roughly. His hand over his chest, clearing his throat. His lip bunched up as if he was trying not to tell you. Your hand patted his back, as he says, “Thanks,”

Stack looked at you again, but this time it was softer, and careful. He had to tell you one way, or the other.“You really wanna know?”

“Yes, tell me!” You exclaimed, your hands gripped his buff shoulders, propped yourself on your knees pressed in the coach.

“A’ight then, but don’t say I ain’t warn yo’ fine ass.” Stack admonishes, shrugging again.

Your head tilting, your face twisted faintly like he was out of his rabbit ass mind. “Stack, it’s a sex dungeon, and I’m sure there’s nothing in there. I’ve haven’t seen before.”

Stack chuckled it off cockily, with a faint curl of his lip. He stood from the couch before circling around it. Hands behind his back, as if he had something up his sleeve.

Stack strode toward you with a mischievous smirk on his face, bowing as he held out his hand. Your eyes dart between his eyes, and his hand, feeling like you’re about regret asking later.

Your hand grabbed his gently, as his fingers interlocked with yours. Winking playfully at you, while he led you through the hallways of the house.

However, the man reached for a remote from the dresser in his bedroom. His thumb pressed the button, and you see the door in front of him flipped over into a a crimson velvet door with the first initial of a big bold ‘S’ on it.

Stack grinned at you, sliding the remote in his pocket. He reached for the doorknob, swung it open, as he led you through the door. Once inside, the elevator was a bit small and covered in red velvet carpet, including a small window, and your body pressed against his.

His muscles taut beneath the fabric against your skin. The heat sinking in the fabric of your pajamas. Your fingers gripped the thick fabric of his hoodie.

Stack closed the door and locked it behind him. He pressed the button on the remote in his hand again, prompted the small elevator to descend slowly to the lower floor while 90s R&B music played through tiny speakers. Stack softly hummed along to Ginuwine’s Pony.

Your eyes flickered up at him, giggling. “You would play this song with your nasty ass.”

“You like my nasty ass though, Hm?” Stack hummed, his hands mushed your face, gently shaking your head from side to side. He pressed a soft kiss against your lips twice.

“You've been playing a lot of freaky ass music from the 90s? Are you giving me a hint, or are you more of an R&B head?” You asked with curiosity, your head tilted.

“I'm more of an R&B head. I've been on a binge lately. The old school music has been speakin’ to me for a while.” Stack purrs, his nose nuzzling across yours.

“Sure it has.” You say sarcastically, squiting at him.

Stack snickered mid-breath, his hand mushed your face together again. He pressed a kiss on your forehead to your nose, then down your lips again. There goes that warmth through your body again whenever he's affectionate.

Ahh, Elias Moore. Your man.

“You're nasty, freaky music always speakin’ to ya.” You quipped at him, his hands on his chest.

“You know that...” Stack drawled with his hands cupped around your ass possessively.

The elevator ride dragged on for another hour or so, a string of R&B music humming through the small speakers of the machine. Stack hummed lightly to Natural Thang by Donell Jones.

The elevator finally opened to you, and Stack. He led through the long, narrow hallway with the same walls with red linoleum flooring underneath. How long were these hallways of the room?

“How long did it take you to build this? You brought other women down here before?” Your eyes scanned the hallway gradually.

“It took me a longer than a few years to build it, and design it myself. You’re the first person I brought here, baby.”

Stack finally stopped in front of the door of his underground room, reaching for the knob. Twisting it, and swung it open again.

The smell of sandalwood, something sweet like candy, and linen across the fabric of the bed, the rug. It included air conditioning to keep the place warm, and toasty.

Once you, and you man stepped through it. The room was spacious, with no windows, the floors below your sock-clad feet were matte onyx, and you could see your reflection in it. A king sized bed with crimson sheets and matching thick pillows lay neatly, with a blanket.

You spotted a pristine shelf of sex toys, his belt, fuzzy handcuffs, butt plugs, a leather dog collar with a leash attached to it, and vibrators, a gag ball, and a string of rope. Also, there was a fridge on the right corner of the room.

Your mouth agape, as your brown eyes scanning through every corner of the room. Speechless. Not a word spoken.

“Close that pretty mouth, sweetheart,” Stack demanded, his voice like velvet and gravelly.

Your mouth closed just as he told you to. Your eyes flickered to the man standing in front of you, his back leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.

“Why is there a fridge?” You pointed to the fridge in the room.

“I get hungry, and watch movies, baby.” He says casually, pushing himself off the wall.

You nodded. “Okay. This place is very clean, which I like. It doesn't smell bad,” You gazed upon the room one last time to make sure you weren't dreaming.

“Damn, you’re a big ol’ freak, Elias. You always take it to another level, and never fail to bewilder me,” You confessed, half-laughing, half-bewildered.

“Experience teaches you things, here and there. You learn, and study, and perfect it till it’s right.” Stack bantered, his hand flying around the room.

“Mhm. Now that we're here. Take off your clothes, and get on the bed.” You demand, pointing to the bed like it was an order.

“Yes, ma'am.” Stack obliged without hesitation.

Stack backed away, with his hands held up in defense. But that smirk curled on his handsome face, fisting his hoodie, flung over his head. Threw it across the floor, and pulled off sweats like it was nothing. His boxers came right off.

His dick was set free from the fabric, thick, wide in girth, and veiny with a mean curve to the right. Stack hisses softly at the cool air brushing across his dick, as he fell flat on his back across the cool mattress, the faint squeak underneath.

His back leaned against the headboard, with his hands behind his head. Teeth trapped under his lip, dimples visible in his cheeks. His deep brown eyes flickered toward you, sat man-spread. Legs spread wide enough for you to see his dick on display, his abs sculpted, taut muscles on every inch of his body. Unhinged.

“Come get’chu some..” Stack flirted, his voice deepened with that accent, and that rasp. Gravelly still softened like velvet, drawing you in.

How does the man ooze dominance, and sexiness while being submissive? Your teeth dug into the soft pigment of your lip, as if the gears were twisting in your mind. You had to get this right.

Your eyes shoot out of your head. Widen. You forgot how big he was. You cleared your throat while you spun on your heels. Heat blooming through your thighs, and face to your neck.

Striding toward the shelf of his BDSM collection, and you stopped immediately. Your eyes swept over the toys until they landed on the handcuffs, and the dog collar with a leash. You reached for the leash, the dog collar, and the handcuffs.

You exhaled softly, nerves buzzing through your body. Your thighs clenching tight, your panties already wet. Stack blinked once, his head leaned to the side, his face softened.

“You good over there? We can stop if you want to?” Stack asked softly, his brows rose.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous.” You reassured him, and yourself at once, swallowing once.

You got this. This is Stack we’re talking about. He’s fine with it. He’ll stop immediately if you don’t want to. You shook your head to brush off that anxiety buzzing in your body.

You spun around on your heels again, and strode over to the bed. Placing the toys on the edge, and stripping out of your clothes, slowly. Stack helped you up on the bed; you plopped down on your stomach. You, and him shared a snicker of mischief together.

“This bed is so big, and soft!” You exclaim with a smile, Stack chuckling softly at you.

Your naked body pressed his, your breasts touched his chest lightly. The nerves faded away, as the warmth crept in at the right time.

Your head turned in his direction, and your chin lay on his buff chest. Your warm brown eyes met his, batting your eyelashes at him. “Safe word, baby?” you inquired softly.

Stack hummed lightly, trying to gather the right safe word. His face lit up as the perfect color popped into his head, as if a lightbulb flickered over it.

“Red...” Stack drawled softly, his hand on the small of your back, thumb tracing circles on your melanated skin.

Your hands on his buff chest pushed you up to meet his gaze down below, his gaze following you, as you hoisted yourself straight up, with your knees pressed on the bed on either side of his waist, you could only hear the slow breathing between you, and your man.

“Good boy. Red it is then. You can say it at any time if you’re uncomfortable with anything, okay? Please let me know..” You added, your hand patted on his buff chest softly.

“I got you, and I’ll let you let know if I’m not comfortable.” Stack reassured you, nodding once again.

You reached for the dog collar with the leash attached to it. Your hand moved in a ‘come here’ motion, and as he leaned forward to you. Propped himself up by his elbows. You brought the dog collar to his neck, and wrapped it around with a soft click.

Your eyes met his again, with a steady concern, your face softening to see if he was still comfortable with it. Stack nodded for consent. “It’s okay...” He soothes to you, his face softening with yours like he was matching the pace of your mind, and body.

Your hand gripped the leash, and gently yanked at it. Stack lunged forward by the tug of the leash, his teeth dug into his lip, as if he was gritting his teeth. A soft whimper spilling out of his mouth, a sound of pure arousal, and satisfication.

“Don’t be pretty wit’ it. Show me more somethin’ than a gentle tug. Get real mean…” Stack coached with a low rasp; his head nodded to the leash in your hand.

Your hand yanked the leash forward roughly with a mean twist of your wrist, and Stack moaned, whimpering your name under his breath. “Damn…Y/n…” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Your stomach had a tingling warmth fluttering through your body, and your pussy was throbbing, clenching around nothing at the sight of Stack being so submissive below you.

The tug of the leash around his throat sent the blood down his dick, stood tall, thick beads of precum spilled from his tip, and throbbing with a desperate jolt of pleasure buzzing through his body like lightning. His hips pushed into the air for friction. His soft whimpering, tiny, raspy groans spilling from his lips. “Give me more, baby…” he begged for it, and drooling.

“I’ll show you...”

You hovered over him, as he angled himself upwards. You lowered yourself over his dick, wiggling your hips, your head craned back, gasping for air at the stretch. “Ahhh…shitt..” You hissed through it. Stack’s eyes darted up at you; his hand on your hip. You, and Stack whined softly. “All…the…way down…” Stack panted heavily with that rasp. Your hips plopped down with a sudden plunge. Stack flinched, until you were filled completely. “Just like that..” he praised softly, whimpering. You moaned from the thick size, pulsating against your walls, choking his dick. “You good up there, love?” you asked softly; he nodded frantically.

You bounced ruthlessly top of him, riding him with brute force; he soft grunts, raspy whimpers through every bounce. His big dick hit your spot in an endless loop. “Fuckk…Elias…” you panted softly. Your hips were grinding. Your pussy was still clenching, gushing down below from his dick to his balls. You cried out with your man; he caught your gaze above him. But Stack needed more. “Do it again…get meaner…”

The raspy rumbling from his throat. Your hand yanked the leash harder while you straddled him brutally, riding well, dominating Stack. He groaned in pleasure. His hips thrusted upwards, roughly. “Yeah…gimme that.” he taunted, voice raspy with need. “You're cute—fuck! When you listen...” you managed to say, through every moan. Stack unraveled; he was breathless under you. Your hand smacked his off your hip. His moans were desperate. “No touching...” you groaned; your hand yanked the leash again. Stack whimpered with a rasp.

Your nails dug into his pecs deeply, your mouth fell open once he thrusted upwards. “You killin’ me…” he hissed. A grin on your face. Your mind was so far away; you kept bouncing on his fat dick. The white essence below widened around. “You like to be treated this way? Like a big ol’ slut, ‘Lias?” You spewed with a moan. You felt full, and wetter than ever. You gushed again. “Fuckk...yeah,” he groans. Unapologetic. Fisting the sheets, fucking you upwards.

Stack looked up at you with a faint smirk; those dimples, and he smacked your ass. His abs clenched as he drilled upwards. “Elias! Shitt!” Your hand yanked at the leash, as he let a guttural groan. Your thumb grazed his sensitive nipples. Stack moans. “Uhhhnn…Y/n..fuck..” he rasps, rocking himself into your walls. Your hand yanked at the leash, with a clank of the chain. His chest heaved under your palm.

You quickened the pace, that had Stack trembling, whimpering. He ruined you again, and again, and your ass clapped against his balls.

His mouth wrapped around your right nipple, while he cupped, and pinched the other one. Your pussy was swollen, wet, and bruised. His quivering thighs pressed against yours. Stack panting heavily like he was losing breath. “Baby please..” he moaned, his mouth on your neck. Teeth dug into your areola, leaving behind hickeys. His hips are rutting into you, stretching you open. The tension in his shoulders and the soreness in your thighs pushed you and Stack to the limit. “Just like that…” you praised, as your nails clawed at him. You sought friction, yet you wanted to feel more of him.

Overcome with sensation, you felt like stars were exploding in your vision, as if he had taken you beyond the stars. Your thoughts were clouded, and all you could do was moan. "I-I'm gonna cum!" Stack pushed himself in inch by inch. A feral moan rippling from your throat, raspy. Stack gritted his teeth, stifling a moan that escaped anyway. Your walls tightened like an instinctive reaction. "Gimmie..Y/n..” he says lowly, panting. Your pussy tighten around him, drawing him in before he could fuck deeper.

Without hesitation, Stack flipped you on your back unexpectedly. No hands.

Stack plowed into you; he fucked you into the mattress, so deeply that you could feel the metal springs press deep. "S-sorry..." he whimpered softly. Your yanked at the leash roughly; he groaned. The fabric's burn on your skin sent a wave of heat through you. His hips pushed forward fast, and long strokes, savoring the sensation of you. Your moans grew feral, and heavy. “B-bad..fuck!” His breathing grew heavier, as if he was blowing smoke through his teeth.

“Yeah…I’m need…to be inside you deep...” He rasps, dragging his mouth across yours through every slow stroke while fucking you deep still. “Elias! I'm gonna cumm!” You could barely form a coherent sentence, your body trembling against his. "That's right..Gimmie..all..good..shit!"He moaned in your ear, the pleasure overwhelming.

You let out a hoarse moan until your voice faded. Your white cum spread from his tip to the base, spilling onto the sheets. Your hand held onto his; your knees felt like jelly. “Get there wit' me..” he coached. Your hand yanked the leash again. The heat in his thoart, and the ache in his body, sweat clung to you. "Cum with me.." His teeth plunged into your shoulder, biting hard, as he breathed rapidly through his nose, his breath hoarse.

His palm resting over your stomach, his fingers splayed poesseively. “You’re mine....” You cooed, biting your lip. The feel of your stomach clenched, as he rammed, harder, and the feel of his dick in, and out. He plunged roughly, held your neck.”Every time, I fuck you deep. That pretty lil pussy clench.. ” Stack pants, hips rolling in, his tip hitting that soft spot. Your pussy clenched as if by Stack’s nasty talk. Thrust. Clench. “See?” Your back arched longer than you hoped. “I see! I see!” You whined at him, your arm linked around his neck.

He flipped you on all fours like it was routine, his hand on the small of your back with the other on your hip. “So deep!”you cried out, your toes curled. Stack tried to hold in his climax as best as he could, quickening the pace while gruttal groaning your name. “I can get deeper…”

The bed creaked underneath both of you, and Stack. Your hands fisting the sheets for some kind of relief. Thrust. “E—lias!” A moan rippled from your throat. Thrust. Your bodyalmost stumbled over the bed but Stack yanked you back. “Tapping out already?” he taunts. Thrust. You whimper. “Too much dick for you?” Stack bullied, his hands on your waist, hoisted you still. Your hand yanked at the leash. Stack rasped. He looked down on you with that grin. “S-say you love the way I treat you—fuck like a pet…” You moaned a command, your head fell back into the pillow.

“I-I love t-the way you treat—fuck..like a pet...” Stack dragged out a long groan. You squirmed away from him but Stack yanked you by your ankle, eliciting that mean curve to strike a spot. You felt a jolt of pleasure. “Why you runnin’ from me? Don't you want this dick?” Stack teased. His hand sent a sharp smack across your ass. “Eliassss!” Your hands let go of the leash, losing your mind. Stack saw stars sparkling, and vibrant colors bursting. His brow knitted at the spot he couldn't reach while pushing deep.

Their bodies mushed together, sweaty, hot. “I'm gon’ cum!” you screamed. He nodded, his hands latched around your neck. “M-me too..”Your hips rolling, feeling a new sensation, your body buzzing.

You reached your limit, spilling all over Stack's fat dick, creating a large mess on the sheets as, he fucked you roughly, growling and grunting in your ear. “I'm right behind yo’ fine ass. Lemme have it..” Stack gritted his teeth. By his voice, you came undone, messy again. Stack shot his fat load of cum inside you. Walls filled up to the brim. “Fuckkkk!” Stack grunted loudly, laying his head on the side of the small of your back. He drooled on your skin, while you screamed in blissful agony.

His back muscles flexed, as he pulled slowly to see his dick inch out of your pussy. His half- lidded eyes squinted a bit, the white mingling with the deep brown of your folds. His cum oozing out. You flipped on your back. Moaning weakly. The soft gushing. You squirted on him.

“E-eat...” You commanded him, your legs parting for him. Half-lidded eyes met his, passionate, and daring. The smirk was still on his face, Stack hummed in response.

Stack ducked below between your thighs, slurping, and swallowing it all without shame. He came up for fresh air, his tongue gliding across his lip. Humming softly. “You taste good...” he mumbled, his voice raspy and gravelly.

“I know…but you're good when you're submissive, Elias…”

“Anything for my baby…”

—————-

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stephdavidson

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