- One day Asha casually expressed that she is thinking about getting a breast augmentation. Erik asked nonjudgemental, open-ended questions before his tone turned serious: “Just know, I love every inch of you. You ask me before you alter any part of you, do you understand?”
- Once she was healed, he only bought her open cup lingerie sets for the following three months. He jokingly insisted she didn't need to replace all of her bras, “cause you ain't gonna be wearing them that often.”
- His words worship her, as he nuzzles his head on her chest: "You was perfect before, now you immaculate."
- He nips and suckles on her at night. Both of them find comfort in it and swear it helps them fall asleep better.
-In the beginning Asha is self-conscious about how visible her nipples are through her shirts. Growing up, she learned that it was attention seeking behavior and unladylike.
“The whole reason you wanted to do this was so you feel more like yourself. Fuck what their version of a lady is.”
- He doesn't give a fuck about other men or women ogling her when she wears see through tops. The confidence she was starting to exude only made his dick harder. His woman being wanted turned him on, perhaps enough to lend her, but not to share.
-Erik and Asha cuddle up under a thick blanket. Real cozy-like: vanilla candle flickering, Love Jones playing, warm apple cider in hand. Mindlessly, his fingers hot from his mug, drift under her shirt, cupping her breast, thumb flicking gently against her nipple. Asha’s skin is his own blanket of serenity.
- “I think these thick nipples need some diamonds in them.” He teases her for being scared of needles, even after going under the knife.
- She lays flat when she rides him, letting her nipples bristle against his keloids. He thrusts deeper, unafraid to let out a toe curling moan, a reward for knowing exactly what he likes and using him as she pleases.
- His favorite accessory to adorn her with isn't a pair of earrings or a tennis bracelet. It's nipple clamps and clothes pins.
- Her eyes are big and sad when Erik finishes on her tits, because she still craves to feel him leak down her throat. He scoops the remnants from her chest, and lifts his finger to her lips so she can taste him as an apology: “Aw, my bad, pretty girl. Let's just make sure this don't go to waste then.”
- She writhes under the hot wax Erik pours over her torso, breasts, and inner thighs. After her body is coated, he makes her edge while he watches, as if the scorch wasn’t enough. His raspy voice says, “Fuck that pussy harder for me. Make these juicy ass titties bounce.” He fists his dick, abs contracting with each thrust. Ropes of cum splatter on her tits, rising and falling with each breath. Tears slide down Asha’s temples, when he ruthlessly rejects her pleas to cum with him.
- Don't let him walk in while she’s sitting at her vanity. He sees it as an open invitation for him to cling to her like a magnet. He moves her hair aside to slightly tighten his hands around her neck— a gentle reminder of who owns her.
Camisole straps are stripped from her shoulders.
The task she was doing is suddenly finished.
In the mirror he notices everything.
Her shoulders drop, the tension of the day floating adrift as she dissolves into him. There's a small part in her lips and her neck tilts just enough for his lips to connect. But he is patient. He waits for her body to hum for him. Until he kneads her flesh thoroughly, til her nipples protrude, til her breath is shallow.
His touch is rough, but his mouth will be pillow soft on her neck soon enough. The thought makes her cheeks flush. Asha wants softness, always-- it’s a departure from his rugged nature that makes it so much sweeter.
"What's the matter, hm?" More whimpers.
"Erik,” she said, voice low and sultry, “you know what you're doing." No need to play coy, that was her lane.
“Nah, you know what the fuck you doing. Walking around in these skimpy ass clothes.”
“It's hot outside.”
“You ain't outside, are you?”
“No, I'm inside.”
“You dress like this just to tempt me.”
“...no, it's because I like it.”
“You saying you like looking like a slut?”
“yes I— no!” she huffed, “you're confusing me.”
“It's aight, turn it off, princess. That brain of yours deserves to be empty. Just for a lil bit, okay?”
The words are light on his lips, spoken with an air of clout that couldn’t be challenged.
Without a thought, she nods in agreement. Trembling fingers grasp the vanity, as if the wetness between her thighs would make her slide right off the stool.
The mirror reflected arched brows, glossy lips, and a perfect roller wrap; her shimmery bronze skin, prodded by strong hands, being escorted into a deep well of mindlessness.
Her nipples cinch between his fingers, tight and helpless.
He pinched. “Just tell me, where you want me to touch you next?"
"Hmmph, fuck— anywhere." His hands didn’t move. That wasn’t specific enough.
Asha leans forward, lifting her itty bitty skirt over her hips and repositions the stool underneath her. A sigh made of gratitude and relief left her lips.
She sat tall on the rounded edge of the seat like it was her throne. One. Two. Three rocks of her hips before the alignment was perfect, flicking the meaty flesh, back and forth.
“Ooh shit, keep touching me. Tell me how pretty I look.” Asha blinks slowly at him in the mirror.
He looked down to his hands attempting to contain her ample breasts, but they were so full they spilled out of his hands. “I love all your fucking angles baby.”
“Needy lil pussy, ain't it? You like making your own pussy cum?”
Juices smacking. Lower lips spreading open resembling butterfly wings. Rubbing. Fucking herself swollen. She loved this shit.
“Fuck, yes.” Erik's hand fists her hair, tilting her head back. A groan pierces the air, leaving her jaw hanging open before she bites her lips between them.
“Plump ass lips can't get no better,” he muttered, “keep ‘em open, act like you know somethin’.”
Body heat swarmed around her. Any closer and they'd be kissing.
Erik was freaked out. His offerings came with appetizers.
Dutifully, her tongue presented itself, and he served her delicious stream straight from his lips. Then his lips, full and taunting, were on her, tongue leading a nasty exploration of her mouth.
A drizzle spilled on her chin.
Asha started to wipe it away, but followed his voice instead, “Don't. Let it drip.”
There was a chill in his voice that made goose bumps spread over her skin, even though her skin glistened with sweat.
Mercy.
I'm gonna cum so fucking hard.
I need it, I need it, please I need it.
Feels so good, I need to be stuffed.
This pussy wants to be owned.
I am such a slut for this. A needy, brainless slut. Fuck!
Asha, upright again felt dick pressing into her back, sending jolts down her spine. As soon as Asha came, she'd be ready to fuck. Whatever position he wanted as long as it was relentless. She wanted to rub her clit in circles while he fed her long strokes that knocked against her womb. Let him admire the way her pink, gemmed acrylics matched the shine she left on his dick.
Erik's eyes were dark and expecting in the mirror. A moan left her lips with each push and pull of her now slippery breasts.
She bore down, trying to gain friction lost from all the cream pooling on the stool. The sticky sounds. The weight of her heavy tits swaying. Erik spectating. It all demands her attention at once. Her clit was under duress.
Asha’s eyes flickered between his face and her majestic figure in the mirror. The curve in her back wasn't so subtle anymore. The makeup and hair utensils on the vanity clattered under her movements. Empty eyes stared back at Erik. He watched intently as her eyes crossed, a signal her mind was gone, far from this room.
His dick was spasming in his jeans.
“Cum. Cum, you slut,” he spat.
She didn't hear him the first time, hearing vanquished by a high pitched ringing.
The room turned on its side.
Everything that left her lips was jumbled.
Erik caught her when her hips stopped chasing.
She sat sideways. She couldn't sit straight. Not when the aftershocks struck through her like lightning.
Her thighs clasped like the orgasm that ripped through her could somehow be contained.
Erik soothed her. Now, he could press his lips in the crook of her neck. No sooner has he sensed her disintegrating and in need of something soft to tether to.
“Erik!” She gasped like waking from an unpleasant dream. In just those two simple syllables of his beloved name, her voice conveyed both uncertainty and deep longing.
“You scared?” She nodded, searching his eyes in the mirror.
His arms completely enveloped her upper body from behind. Asha was practically naked while he was fully clothed. “I'm right here. Just breathe for me.”
“I don't know where I went—”
His tongue traced her ear, “All sluts go to heaven, baby.”
He pulled her shirt up, covering her chest like they weren't hot missiles that just aided her destruction.
Erik placed the straps back where they belong.
He brushed her long bang behind her ear and wiped her mouth. Primped her like a baby doll. Took care of her like a baby doll.
“Your head clear now, or are you still confused princess?” Her eyes gleamed, caressing his forearms.
“Ask me later… after you use me, like a toy.
I wanna get lost again.”
masterlist
authors note: friend, stop looking at me like that. i'm clutching my pearls too. me as my finger hovers over the post button:
stack definitely the type to bully you while you got his dick in your mouth
just talking shit while grinning and looking down at you
i feel like that nigga really would hurt his girl feelings lol 😭
he get carried away with the shit too telling you how you suck dick too pretty and then force it down your throat
he not a overly serious daddy dom like smoke is or mysterious daddy dom that keeps you coming back like Erik
i feel like he genuinely just be playing with you because he don't take shit seriously 😭 lol
like overly playful and doing to much and just overall disrespectful as fuck but the dick be hitting so you keep coming back
Confessions Restaurant & Lounge pulses with booming 808 basslines of UGK, Z-Ro & Trae Tha Truth. Thick Southern drawl in every Dirty South lyric that matched the crowd moving below. Brown skin, dark skin, copper skin, deep mahogany skin caught the strobe lights and threw it back in flashes. Gold hoops swung. Rings glimmered. Fresh lineups, silk presses, locs, curls, braids, and fades moved through the sea of black people like art in motion. Everywhere you looked, somebody was laughing. Heads tipped back. Hands slapped shoulders. You could see girls huddled and gossiping while sipping vibrant drinks that snuck up on them like a chill. Bodies packed the main floor, women in lace jumpsuits, tight dresses, skirts that barely covered ass, stilettos and platforms. Men wearing sneakers straight out the box, all the jewelry in their collection, grills gleaming like rainbows. Women twerked low to the southern beats while men watched from the edges with drinks in hand.
Up in the private VIP section, separated by velvet ropes and a low glass partition that let the noise in but kept the space exclusive. Plush black leather couches lined the walls, low tables scattered with bottles of top-shelf liquor and ashtrays holding half-smoked blunts.
Stack sat back in the center couch, one arm draped along the backrest, black shirt open at the collar to show the gold chains layered against his brown skin. His tailored pants fit sharp over his athletic frame, expensive loafers planted wide, rings catching the colored lights every time he lifted his glass.
She sat right beside him, thigh pressed against his. Her dress clung like it was painted on, short enough to show the length of her legs and cut low to frame the curve of her chest, the fabric shimmering. She held her posture straight, shoulders back, chin lifted just enough to project that ice-queen distance she wore like armor. Her eyes stayed sharp, scanning the room with cool assessment, and every time Stack leaned in, she answered with clipped words or a raised brow that dared him to push further.
Stack watched her for a long moment, the mischievous glint in his deep brown eyes narrowing as he read the attitude rolling off her. His honeyed, Mississippi drawl came low, meant only for her ear over the thump of the music.
“You been runnin’ that mouth all night like you forgot where you at. Like you forgot who put you in this section, who decides how long you stay.” His free hand rested on her knee, fingers pressing just firm enough to remind her of the grip he could tighten. “You know who you belong to. You know what happens if you keep givin’ me that look, like you too good for a reminder.”
She shifted in her seat slightly but didn’t pull away, her expression staying composed even as the tension between them rose. Stack’s thumb traced a slow line along her skin, his gaze dropping briefly to the way her dress rode up before lifting back to her face.
“Keep it up and I’ma put you right where you need to be. On your knees in this booth…throat open while the music covers every sound you make…you think that attitude protects you out there but in here…it just tells me how bad you want the correction.”
His voice always stayed smooth, flirtatious on the surface but edged with the control he wielded so easily. It made her pulse quicken despite the cool mask she kept in place.
Stack fixed her with that sharp, amused stare.
“Why the fuck you show up if you can’t stand me?”
She crossed her arms, her posture stiff and eyes darting to the crowd beyond them. “I came for the music. That’s all.”
He chuckled low at first, then let it roll out fuller, shaking his head like she’d told the best joke he’d heard all night.
“Nah. Don’t play that. You knew I’d be here. So what’s the real reason?”
“Drop it,” she whispered, turning her shoulder slightly away.
Stack leaned in closer, his gold chains catching the colored lights. His lips brushed her cheek, nose pressed against her hair, taking a sniff.
“I don’t like being ignored. You hear me? Answer the question.”
She stayed quiet, jaw tight, refusing to meet his gaze even as the tension pulled tighter between them. Her eyes flicked down for a split second, catching the thick outline pressing against his pants, heavy and obvious. She snapped her focus back up fast, but not fast enough.
Stack caught the glance, his lips curving into a slow grin. He chuckled, the sound warm and knowing.
“What you lookin’ at?”
She shifted her weight, voice flat. “You know what I’m looking at.”
Stack reached out without hesitation, catching her wrist and guiding her hand straight to the fat bulge in his pants. Her palm landed against the heat and solid weight of it, fingers brushing the shape through the fabric. She rolled her eyes hard, pulling her usual ice back into place like armor, expression bored and distant even as her hand stayed where he put it.
Stack watched her face the whole time, reading every flicker she tried to hide.
“Yeah, I see you. Actin’ like you don’t care, but your hand ain’t moving.” His voice dropped lower, rough around the edges with that familiar taunt. “You gon’ keep playing games or you gon’ get on your knees and suck this dick?”
The question hung between them just like that fat dick twitching hard beneath her hand, a sudden pulse that made the thick shaft jump against her fingers. Heat radiated through the fabric, intense and alive, the warmth seeping into her skin like it was trying to brand her. She could feel every detail—the fat girth stretching the material taut, the way it throbbed with a steady pulse that matched the bass from the club floor, the subtle ridge along the underside that hinted at its veined length. It was solid, unyielding, and growing firmer by the second under her touch, the warmth building until it felt almost feverish.
She bit down on her lower lip, teeth sinking in to trap the moan that threatened to slip out. Her body betrayed her even as she kept her expression locked in that icy mask, eyes narrowed and jaw set like she was above all this. But her mouth watered anyway, saliva pooling at the thought of wrapping around that big dick, and her clit thumped insistently between her thighs, a dull ache that pulsed in time with the twitch she felt in her palm. Defiance kept her spine straight and her shoulders squared, but the way her fingers curled just slightly against the bulge gave her away, pressing in to feel more of that thick, warm weight.
Stack’s eyes never left her face, noticing the way her breath hitched despite her best efforts.
“That’s what I thought.” Stack whispered, shifting his hips just enough to grind the print harder into her hand.
Stack didn’t wait for an answer. His free hand went to his pants, unzipping with a quick pull that freed the heavy length of his dick. It sprang out thick and dark, the fat head glistening with a bead of precum, veins pulsing along the shaft. She couldn’t tear her eyes from it, the sight locking her in place even as her fingers stayed pressed against the warm skin now exposed.
Stack laughed low, the sound rumbling from his chest as he caught the way her gaze locked on, wide and hungry despite the stubborn set of her jaw.
“Look at that face,” he taunted, voice thick with amusement and that Mississippi drawl. “Eyes all big like you ain’t never seen a dick this size before. You actin’ like you too good but your mouth’s damn near droolin’. Go on, admit it…that look says you want every inch down your throat.”
Stack’s hips thrusted upward, positioning that fat dick straight up so it stood rigid against his stomach, the full weight of his balls hanging heavy and tight below. It twitched visibly, the shaft bobbing with each rush of blood, the warmth radiating off it in waves that she felt even from inches away. The head flared dark and slick, a thick vein running the underside that throbbed in time with the southern bass.
Her defiance cracked right there. She gave in with a sharp breath, sliding down to her knees without another word, dress bunched at her waist, bare ass resting on her heels. Her hands reached to grip his thighs as her lips parted. The heat hit her first when she leaned in, that feverish warmth from his skin making her clit throb harder between her legs.
Stack’s dick stood heavy and rigid in front of her face, a network of raised veins pulsing along its length. The fat head flared wide, shiny with a bead of precum that stretched into a thin string when she leaned in. Her mouth watered openly now, tongue flicking out to taste the tip before her lips parted and stretched around the broad crown, struggling to take the girth as she sank down. Saliva welled up fast, coating the upper half of his shaft in a glossy sheen that caught the strobe lights every time she bobbed.
Stack’s hand rested on the back of her head, rings heavy against her hair. He let her work for a few strokes, watching her cheeks hollow and her throat flex. Then, he gave a short push that forced another inch inside.
“That mouth tryin’, ain’t it?” He said, voice low and taunting. “You call that sucking, baby? Feel like you just holding it.”
She tried to take more, jaw aching, but he tightened his grip and eased her back until the head remained between her lips like she was sucking on a lollipop. A wet pop sounded when he pulled free completely. His dick swayed, slick and heavy, the veins standing out darker now from the suction. Stack tapped his fat head against her cheek twice, leaving wet marks and sticky trails of pre cum.
“Nah. Lick it proper first. Base to tip. Slow. Show me you want it.”
Her tongue dragged along the underside, tracing every ridge and vein, saliva dripping from her chin onto her cleavage. Stack watched with half-lidded eyes, the corner of his mouth lifted, dimple peeking. When she reached the head and swirled her tongue around it, he let her suck the tip again for a moment before yanking her off once more.
“Greedy. You ain’t earned the whole thing yet.”
Stack gripped the base with one hand, angling the thick length so the head brushed her parted lips but stayed just out of reach. She leaned forward; he leaned back an inch, keeping the distance.
“Uh-uh. Ask nice. Tell me what that mouth is good for.”
Her answer came out hoarse, “for sucking this big dick.”
Stack rewarded her with a single swallow thrust that barely stretched her lips before withdrawing again. Spit trailed from her lower lip to the head of his dick.
“That’s better,” he said, feeding her another inch, then two, until her nose nearly brushed his trimmed hair.
He held her there, feeling her throat flutter around the fat intrusion, then pulled her off completely. His dick glistened from root to tip, strands of spit connecting her mouth to the head. Stack slapped it lightly against her tongue, the weight of it making a soft pat-pat sound.
“Breathe. Then try again. And don’t stop until I say.”
She dove back in, lips sliding down the veined girth with more determination, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth. Stack’s fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her but never letting her set the pace herself. Every few strokes he would ease her back, denying her the deeper reach she chased, his voice smooth and cutting above her.
“Still half-assing it. Open that throat or I’ll do it for you.”
That fat head popped free again, shiny and swollen, and he dragged it across her lips in a slow tease before letting her have it once more. She slid back down on him, lips straining wide around the broad crown, but Stack’s fingers tightened in her hair and he gave a low chuckle that held no warmth.
“Nah. I don’t want that pretty dick sucking either. You hear me?” He yanked her off with a wet pop, dick swinging heavy and slick, thickness coated in ropes of spit that dripped from the tip down to the base where veins stood out dark and pulsing. His fat length twitched, shiny and obscene, Stack slapping it on her tongue again.
“Open wider. Get nasty wit’ it. I want spit running down my balls, not this tidy little bob you think pass for sucking.”
Stack fed that wide tip back between her lips but only halfway, holding her there while she sucked softly, then pulled free once more so his entire veined girth glistened and swayed in her face in a hypnotic dance. Her chin was shiny, drool sliding down her neck. Stack angled his dick so the head brushed her cheek, leaving a wet smear.
“Look at that. You tryna keep it cute? Fuck that. Slobber on it like the greedy slut you is.”
Stack pushed her face lower, making her tongue drag along the underside where a thick vein pulsed against her taste buds, then let her suck the tip again only to deny her the rest. Every time she tried to sink deeper he eased back, the fat crown popping free shiny and swollen, strings of spit connecting her mouth to his dick.
“That’s right. Make a mess. I want it dripping off my shit ‘fore I even think ‘bout letting you choke on the whole thing.” His free hand stroked the base once, slow, showing her the full heavy length before tapping it against her parted lips. “Breathe through your nose and get sloppy. Or I’ll just fuck that throat myself.”
She stopped fighting the urge and let it happen, drool spilling freely from the corners of her mouth as she worked her tongue along every inch he allowed. Spit coated the full length of his dick, thick strands stretching and snapping each time she pulled back for air. Wet trails ran down her throat and soaked the neckline of her dress. Stack watched with a satisfied smirk, his grip in her hair firm.
“There it is,” he said, voice low and approving in that mocking way he had. “Look how quick you got it. All I had to do was tell you once and now you making a proper mess. Easy, ain’t it?” He let her sink a little deeper on her own, the head of his dick nudging the back of her throat before he eased her off again. “Follow directions and this shit get simple. No need for all that fuckin’ attitude you walked in wit’. Just open up and slobber like I said.”
Her tongue dragged heavy and wet under his shaft, spit bubbling at the corners as she tried to take more without being told. Stack chuckled, tapping his slick head against her lips before sliding it back in halfway.
“Yeah, just like that. See how much better it feels when you stop pretending? You can act like you run shit out there, but right here you follow every word, makes my job easy too.”
His fat crown pressed deeper while spit poured down over his balls. The wet sounds filled the VIP space, louder than the muffled bass from the club floor. Stack’s free hand rested on her jaw, thumb stroking the slick skin as he held her in place for a moment.
“Keep going exactly like that. No fancy tricks just the nasty shit I asked for. You do that and we both get what we want.”
She kept at it without hesitation, her mouth working steadily over every inch he gave her. Spit ran in heavy streams down his thick dick and over his heavy balls, soaking the front of his pants where they hung open. Her tongue pressed flat and eager, dragging wet and thorough each time she pulled back before sinking forward again. No resistance left in the way she moved, just the steady rhythm he had set for her.
“You really can’t stand me, huh? Always got that look like you wanna slap the smirk off my face. But here you are again, lips stretched around my dick like it’s the only thing that shuts you up. Every single time you swear this the last…you end up on your knees. Can’t leave it alone, can you?”
He rocked his hips forward once, testing how deep she would take it on her own. She did, throat working around the head without pulling away. More spit bubbled out and dropped onto the floor between his feet. Stack laughed, thumb brushing the corner of her stretched mouth.
“Look at this mess you making. All ‘cause you can’t stay away from what you claim to hate. I tell you to get sloppy and you do it like it’s second nature. Follow every word I give you, even when you glaring at me with those sharp eyes. You hate how easy it is. Hate that you keep coming back for more of this.”
The club music thumped somewhere beyond the VIP curtain, but in here it was only the sound of her wet lips and his voice laying out every contradiction.
“You walk ‘round like nobody can touch you, but the second I tell you to open up you turn into this. Can’t stand me, yet you can’t stop sucking me off every chance you get. Makes me wonder what you’d do if I told you to stop right now. Bet you’d keep goin’ anyway, just to prove you can walk away whenever you want. We both know better.”
Stack rose to his full height, glass in hand, the ice clinking as he took a slow sip. He looked down at her on her knees, eyes locked on the way her lips stayed wrapped around him.
“No hands,” Stack commanded. “Just that mouth. Work it like you mean it. All jaws, no shortcuts.”
She adjusted without a word, hands dropping to her sides. Her jaw flexed as she pushed forward, taking more of him in one steady glide. She moved like she knew exactly how to angle it, cheeks hollowing on each pull, tongue pressing hard along the underside with every stroke.
Stack watched her, drink still in one hand while the other rested at his side.
“That’s it. Suck that dick like the pro you are when nobody’s watching. Look at you, throat working overtime. You act like you hate my guts when we in public but in here you swallow every gahdamn inch of this dick like it’s your favorite meal.”
Stack rocked his hips once, testing her rhythm, and she took it deeper without pulling back. More spit spilled over her bottom lip and ran down his balls. Stack chuckled, low and rough.
“Admit it. You love this big dick. Say it while you got it stuffed in your mouth. Tell me how much you love choking on it every time you swear you done wit’ me.”
She refused to give him that satisfaction with words but her jaw worked harder, the wet sounds filling the space between them. Stack took another sip, eyes never leaving her face.
“Come on. I wanna hear it. You can’t leave this alone ‘cause you love how it fills your throat. You love gettin’ bullied while you drool all over it. Say the words.” Her pace stayed relentless, lips stretched tight. Stack tilted his head, voice turning sharper. “That’s my mean girl, keep going. Admit everything. How you can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout this dick even when you give me attitude. Say it loud enough so I know you mean it.”
Stack held still, letting her drive the motion, watching every bob of her head and every flex of her throat as she worked him deeper. The club noise stayed muffled beyond the curtain while he sipped again, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.
“Good girl. Now keep that mouth moving and tell me the rest. How bad you need it. How you hate yourself for loving every second of this.”
Stack yanked his dick free from her throat, gripping the base and started smacking the heavy length across her face. Each slap landed with a wet thud, the head dragging over her cheek, across her lips, up to her forehead, leaving shiny streaks behind. He did it slow at first, then faster. Her eyes watered but she kept them open, staring up at him.
“I can’t fucking stand you,” she rasped, voice thick and broken from how deep she’d been taking him. “But I love it. I love all of it. This big dick, the way it stretches my throat, how you make me kneel and take it. I love choking on every inch even when I swear I hate you.”
Stack let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and amused. He slapped his dick harder against her cheek, then dragged it down to smack her chin.
“Look at this pathetic face. Sayin’ you can’t stand me while my dick all over it. You love it so much you drooling just from the words. Go on, keep talkin’. Tell me how bad you need this dick you claim to hate.”
He kept the pace going, smacking the thick shaft over her nose and lips, the wet slaps echoing in the VIP section. Spit flew with each strike. Her expression stayed wrecked, mouth open, tongue half out like she couldn’t help chasing it.
“That’s right,” he mocked, voice smooth even as he bullied her with his dick. “Admit it all. You sneak around just to get treated like this. Can’t get enough of how I make you feel like nothin’ but a hole for me to use. Say it louder.”
She swallowed, throat working, and kept going between the hits.
“I love this big dick more than anything. I love how you make me do this, how you don’t let me use my hands, how you laugh at me while I beg for it. I hate you but I can’t stop wanting every second of it.”
Stack grinned, dimples flashing, and gave one final slap across both cheeks with his tip girth before pressing the head against her lips again.
“Good. Now open up and prove it.”
She proved it right away. Her lips parted wide and she took him back in, sucking hard and sloppy like she was desperate for some prize at the end. Her tongue worked the underside in fast strokes while she bobbed her head, cheeks sunken with every pull. Spit ran down her chin and dripped onto her dress as she pushed deeper, taking more of him without any hesitation.
Stack felt his dick swell thicker in her mouth, the head pulsing against her tongue as he got closer. He groaned low and gripped her hair tighter.
“You want my nut that bad, huh? Look at you workin’ for it. Tell me where you want it. How bad you need it.”
She pulled off just enough to speak, voice hoarse and frantic between licks.
“And want it so bad, Stack. Give me that nut. I want it all over my face, down my throat, anywhere you say. I need it more than anything right now. Please, just cum for me.”
Stack chuckled again, mocking and low. “Hold still then. Grab my glass and don’t spill a drop.”
She reached up with one shaking hand and took the glass from him, holding it steady while he planted both palms on her head. Stack drove forward, fucking her throat in hard, steady thrusts. His hips snapped towards her face as he chased his release, using her mouth like it was made for exactly this.
Stack’s body tensed hard, his hips jerking forward one last time before he yanked his dick free from her throat with a wet pop. Thick ropes of cum erupted from the swollen head, the first heavy spurt landing across her cheek and splattering up toward her eye in a hot, sticky line. More followed in powerful pulses, each one shooting out in long, creamy strands that painted her face white. His load was massive, costing her skin in heavy globs that dripped down her jaw and onto the neckline of her dress.
His face twisted in raw pleasure, brows furrowed deep, full lips parted around a guttural groan that built into a low, drawn-out moan. His deep brown eyes narrowed to slits, lashes fluttering as his chest heaved, the veins in his neck standing out while he emptied himself with a stutter of his hips. Stack aimed the next burst lower, letting the cum land directly on her wiggling tongue as she held it out for him, the warm fluid pooling there in a thick puddle before overflowing down her chin.
“Fuck, that’s it.” He rasped, voice thick and taunting even as his dick twitched through the last shots. “Look at all that nut on your pretty face. You earned every drop, didn’t you?”
She didn’t pull away, instead leaning in to suck the remaining cum from his still-hard length. Her lips sealing around the head and milking him clean with slow, tight pulls until nothing more came out. Stack watched her with a smirk, his hand still tangled in her hair as he praised her through the taunts.
“Good girl, swallowing what you can and wearing the rest like a badge. Such a nasty little slut for me, huh? Bet you love feeling it cool on your skin.”
She rolled her eyes at him from her knees, the gesture full of attitude even with his cum streaking her face. Stack burst out laughing, the sound rich and amused as he tilted her chin higher with one finger.
“There she is. Always got that fire, even when she’s covered in me.”
rest in peace eryka caldwell. she was a 41 year old trans woman of color stabbed to death by her boyfriend. she had so much life left and yet it was cut short by this man. i hope the world can be better for trans women of color, sooner rather than later.
AND! AND! they don’t think their daughters deserve/want pleasure. literally wake that up. they do the whole intimidation thing to guys their daughters are interested in because “he only wants one thing” but never can conceptualize the daughter wanting that “thing” as well.
baratheonpilled
2087
dededos
kianamaiart
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
annaxmalina
