This is my world where everyone is welcome

The speaker thumped against the cluttered dresser, vibrations humming through every inch of Aaliyah’s room. Loose clothes were everywhere. A carry-on half-zipped. Shoes tossed across the rug. Outfits draped over the desk chair and mirror. It was chaos—but a cute, girly chaos. Sanaa was behind her, hands working fast. Her nails clicked against the comb as she gathered Aaliyah’s curls into a soft, high updo. She left a few spirals loose to kiss the sides of her face and neck, swooping the edges into delicate baby hairs with her pinky and a bit of edge control.

Baby we tried to fight it…we all been there some days…thought i needed something else and acted like I was okay…we just had to work it out…and baby, I needed space…ain’t nobody ‘round here on your level you’re so far away…

Aaliyah hit the high notes like she meant ‘em, holding her phone like a mic, eyes closed. Sanaa laughed behind her, doing backup vocals while pinning the last piece into place.

“Girl, you not gon’ be able to sing once you out with Jordan tonight,” Sanaa teased, “He gon’ have you losing your breath.”

“Please.” Aaliyah smiled but tried to play it cool, “He better act like he got some sense tonight. Or I’ll just Uber home and call it a day.”

Sanaa raised her brows in the mirror, “And have Erik spazz out?” 

“Exactly why I need to look good,” Aaliyah said, twirling a curl around her finger, “If I’m gonna have to fight for my date, I wanna at least be fine doin’ it.”

“You so STUPID!” 

The girls laughed again as Sanaa fluffed the final piece into place. The style was soft, romantic, and full of volume—her curls pinned up just right, with a few framing tendrils that made her look ethereal.

“You cute as hell,” Sanaa said, stepping back to admire her work, “Like…damn near ethereal. Floatin’.”

“Okay, floatin’!” Aaliyah grinned, turning her head side to side in the mirror, “All I need is that lil’ lip tint—what’s the name of it? The peach one.”

Sanaa nodded, already walking toward the door, “Yeah, hold on. It’s in my room—I’ll grab it.”

The music kept playing. Aaliyah kept dancing in the mirror. Sanaa opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Her body still warm from the energy in the room, hair swaying across her upper back, jeans riding low on her waist. That shirt of hers still hugging her curves, still rising a little too high when she moved.

She was humming the lyrics under her breath—

Like you…like you…like you, ooh…

Not knowing that just a few steps down the hall…Erik was about to stop fighting it. And he was about to show her exactly what he meant when he said she was a problem.

Sanaa didn’t mean to take her time, but she did.

She bent over slow when she reached for that tiny-ass lip tint. Erik was nowhere in sight. She assumed he was still in his room, probably back on that game again or scrolling through something that didn’t include her. But it didn’t stop her from glancing toward his cracked door as she passed. Didn’t stop her from swinging her hips just a little harder, letting that tantalizing denim ride low. She grabbed the tint, popped the cap, and started to slick it on in the hall. Thought maybe she’d linger long enough to catch his shadow in the doorway. But nothing.

Not until her phone buzzed.

She glanced down.

A text from Erik.

Then the photo dropped in.

Her heart stuttered. Fingers froze. Lips parted mid-swipe. The pic loaded slow—not because of Wi-Fi, but because the universe knew what it was doing. Knew how to make her squirm. He was laid back on his bed. Dark sheets beneath him. His thick thighs stretched out, sweatpants loose but not loose enough. The fabric clung like it knew it had a job—to hug that dick and show out. And baby…it showed out.

Sanaa’s breath caught.

That print was loud. The outline of him long and thick, stretching down the left side, pushing heavy through the fabric like it was trying to make contact. You could see the whole thing, even the way the tip curved a little toward his hip. A thick, high rise of heat — full, unmistakably real. That kind of print that made your mouth water and your knees forget how to function.

And he knew what he was doing.

Because the waistband was tugged down just low enough to show the soft trail of hair leading there. That little line that had her thighs pressing together every damn time he walked around shirtless.

The next text slid in.

Erik: You sure you can handle this dick, slut?

No emoji. No cute follow-up. Just that.

Sanaa blinked. Felt heat crawl up her chest. Her thighs clenched and her pussy pulsed, fast and hot like it was answering for her before her brain could catch up.

Another text.

Erik: I know you think you grown…but you keep testing me. You want daddy to stretch that lil pussy out, huh?

She swallowed hard. Backed into the wall. Still staring at the screen like it was hypnotic. Like the print itself had a grip on her. 

Then he sent another. This one a close-up. A zoomed crop of just the bulge. You could see the ridge of the head now. Thick and proud, fighting through the fabric like it needed air. She could imagine exactly what it would feel like, dragging over her lips. The weight of it. The warmth. The slight curve. The way his dick would hit her deep, then deeper, making her gasp before she even realized he was all the way in. She squeezed her thighs again. Pressed the gloss tube against her lips just to keep from letting out a sound.

Another text.

Erik: You gon’ let me fuck that attitude off your face? Or you still wanna play?

She didn’t type back. Didn’t trust herself. Her fingers hovered. She thought about sending a cute reply. A selfie. A smart-ass remark.

But she couldn’t stop staring.

Another ping.

Erik: Slide them jeans off. Right now. Take a pic of them panties you tryna keep dry.

Another beat.

Erik: Matter fact…pull em to the side. Let me see what I’m finna ruin.

Sanaa’s whole body prickled. The heat between her legs surged so fast it scared her. Her panties already damp, already clinging. And she knew if she took them off, that wetness would leave a trail down her thighs. Her hand shook as she reached for her waistband. Phone still in the other. Her reflection in the mirror looked flushed, guilty, wrecked. And all she’d done was read his texts. All she’d done was look at the print of that dick.

Erik sent one more.

Erik: You takin too long, Bri. Want me to come get it for you?

She hesitated. Not long. Just long enough to decide she was gonna be bad about it. Sanaa stood there in the hallway, one hip leaned against the wall, phone in her hand like it weighed too much. Her other hand dipped slow, smooth, hooking into the waist of her jeans and easing them down over her hips. Not all the way. Just enough. She let the denim bunch at the top of her thighs, soft curves spilling above the waistband, brown skin glowing under the hallway light. Her panties were black —thin, silky, clinging to her fat pussy like they knew how good she looked. The outline was obscene. The damp spot even worse. That pretty little pussy already soaked, lips full and pressed up tight behind the fabric, looking like it was begging for attention.

But she didn’t pull ‘em to the side. Didn’t spread shit. Didn’t give him what he wanted. She snapped the pic like that. Jeans mid-thigh. Panties stretched tight. A flash of her hand at her stomach, holding the phone down at an angle that showed everything but what he was asking for.

Still teasing. Still playing. And that was the point.

She hit send, pulled her jeans back up slow, let them hug her again like nothing happened, and walked her ass back into Aaliyah’s room. The door creaked open and Aaliyah was in the bathroom already, face close to the mirror, blending out her contour like she was late for a photo shoot. She had her robe tied loose, lashes half-on, and was already rambling like her best friend wasn’t spiraling inside.

“Ugh, I shoulda told Jordan ten minutes later,” she complained, “He always pullin up early like I don’t need a full beat.”

Sanaa gave a tight smile, “You look fine.”

Aaliyah scoffed, “Bitch, duh. But I wanna look good. Like, ‘can I suck your dick in the car before we get there’ good.”

Sanaa let out a short breath through her nose, pacing slowly toward the edge of the bed. She sat down, careful, like if she moved too fast, her body might give her away. Because she was nervous now. Heart tapping faster. Mouth dry. Stomach aching in that weird, fluttery way, like something was lowkey crawling behind her navel. Because Jordan pulling up meant Aaliyah would be leaving. And if Aaliyah left…she’d be alone in the apartment.

With him.

With Erik.

With that dick print still burned into her screen.

With that last text still hanging in the air.

Her phone buzzed again. She snatched it quick, face tilted away from the bathroom, thumb opening the thread before she could change her mind.

Erik: That lil’ drip don’t scare me, Bri.

Shit look perfect. Fat ass pussy lookin like it need to be ate through the fabric.

She felt her breath catch. Spine straightening. Another one came through right after.

Erik: You got all that pussy sittin up pretty and you still playin like I won’t put you on ya back and feed. I’ma lick it till you cry, slut. Then fuck you so deep you forget your name.

Her legs crossed tight. She folded over just a little, pretending to reach for something in her bag. In truth, she just needed to breathe. She could feel the heat rising again, thick between her thighs. Her panties clinging worse than before. Every word from him sending sparks through her chest, straight down her belly.

She whimpered under her breath.

Low. Soft.

Her thighs squeezed again.

Aaliyah’s voice floated from the bathroom, still talking shit about Jordan’s playlist and how he always played the same Gunna song on repeat. Sanaa barely heard her. She was staring at her screen like it had her under a spell. Her lips parted, breathing shaky, one hand pressed flat against her stomach like she could hold it all in. But she couldn’t. She wanted him bad. Bad enough her whole body was pulsing for it.

Sanaa felt her phone buzz again.

Another text.

She knew it was him before she even looked. Her hands were already shaking. The ache between her legs had gone from something soft to something deep. Her whole body felt wired, charged, too aware of the man just a few steps away behind that bedroom door. Erik wasn’t teasing anymore. He was taunting now. And she was the one who started it. She sat on the edge of the bed while Aaliyah kept rambling from the bathroom about lashes and lip combos. Sanaa barely heard a word. All she could focus on was that little arrow in the corner of her screen.

Incoming video from Erik. She tapped it. And baby…that shit opened like a floodgate. 

Erik was in his room. Lights low. The TV in the background still glowing, 2K music humming faint under it, but all the attention was on him. He stood in front of his full-length mirror, one hand holding the phone low, filming himself from the perfect angle. His tank was lifted halfway up with his other hand, exposing his hard stomach, deep-cut abs flexed, muscles twitching every time he moved. Locs hanging in his face, jaw tight like he was trying not to say what he was really thinking.

Then he gripped it.

Right through the fabric of his grey joggers, his hand wrapped around that thick ass dick like it belonged on display. Slow. Purposeful. He tugged at the base, squeezing through the material, and it only made that dick print bolder. It rose up heavy. You could see the whole length, thick from the root, wide and mean, curving slightly as it swelled against the soft cotton. The shape of it clear as day. That type of dick that made you question if you were even built for it. The kind that pushed back. That moved when he touched it. It jumped once in his pants when he flexed, and she gasped. Couldn’t stop herself. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes low in the mirror. Then he looked into the camera, and that’s when it hit her in the chest.

That stare.

Dark. Calm. Possessive.

Like he could see right through her. He said nothing in the video. Didn’t have to. Because that look said it all. Look said: You wanna play, baby girl? Bet. He kept rubbing that dick through his pants, slow strokes that showed just how long and heavy he was. The camera dipped a little lower — not too much, just enough to catch the way the fabric stretched tight over the tip, swollen and pulsing, like it was trying to punch through.

And then the video ended. Just like that.

Sanaa was trembling.

A mess.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like the heat in her panties had become unbearable. Her pussy was slick, no, wet. That good wet. Sticky. Her thighs pressed together in a panic and it only made it worse. She wanted to squirm. To grind. To touch. But Aaliyah was still in the bathroom. Still talking. Still moments from walking out and leaving Sanaa completely alone.

With him.

Another message popped through.

Erik:Yeah you still playin’. Drippin for me already, huh? But you not ready. Not for this dick. Not for what I’ma do when I get my hands on that lil pussy.

She whimpered again. This time, too loud.

Aaliyah paused, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Sanaa choked out, clearing her throat, “Just… stomach cramp.”

“Mmm. Prolly hungry. You be forgetting to eat.”

Sanaa didn’t answer. Her head was down. Hair falling around her face as she clutched her phone to her chest, her other hand pressing down hard against her stomach, trying to soothe the ache that wasn’t from hunger. She needed to get it together. Fast. Because Erik wasn’t letting up.

Aaliyah spun once in front of her mirror, lips glossy, curls pinned up in a soft, coiled halo. Her shoulders were bare, dusted in cocoa shimmer, the neckline of her sweater dress dipping just enough to be flirty but still dinner-appropriate.

“Okay, okay,” she said, turning to Sanaa. “Be honest. Is it givin’?”

Sanaa looked her up and down from the bed, chin in her hand, “It’s givin’,” she nodded, “Soft serve caramel dream. You good.”

Aaliyah grinned, “Thank you, bitch.”

Then—

Knock knock.

They both froze.

“Oh God,” Aaliyah muttered, grabbing her compact, “That’s him.”

Another knock, this one firmer.

Then Erik’s deep voice called from down the hall: “I got it.”

Aaliyah’s eyes widened in alarm, “No, no. Sanaa—go with him! Make sure he don’t try nothin’. You know how he is!”

Sanaa stood, already feeling the heat crawl up the back of her neck, “Ain’t my job to babysit—”

“Sanaa,” Aaliyah whined, eyes pleading.

She rolled her eyes, but her feet were already moving. Each step down the hallway made her skin feel tighter, her chest heavier. And there he was, already unlocking the front door, joggers slung low on his hips, body radiating that heavy, hot quiet he always wore when he didn’t like something.

That door creaked open like a challenge. Then came him.

Jordan. 

Tall. 6’1”, maybe 6’2”. Warm bronze skin, lined-up fade with neat braids tied back. Sharp cheekbones, a watch that said money but humble. Button-up and slacks. Smooth smile with a dimple just beneath his left cheek.

Sanaa clocked all of it in one sweep.

He stepped forward, “Hey,” he greeted, voice low, polite, Then he turned to Erik, “You must be Erik. Jordan Taylor.”

He extended a hand. Erik stared at it like it was a dare. Then took it. Not a shake. A squeeze. Sanaa saw the subtle flex of Erik’s forearm. How Jordan held it, calm, not backing down. The silence between them was louder than the knock had been.

Erik’s voice came like gravel, “You pick her up, you bring her back. Same way.”

Jordan gave a single nod, “Of course. Got her the whole night.”

Erik’s jaw ticked, “You better.”

Jordan looked at her, expression shifting softer, “You must be Sanaa?”

She tilted her head, smiling just enough, “Guilty.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said with ease.

And then Aaliyah appeared. The effect was instant. Jordan’s whole face softened. Eyes swept over her like he forgot how to blink.

“Damn,” he exhaled, “You look…”

Aaliyah laughed, touched his arm, “You too.”

They left out together, light on their feet. Jordan’s hand brushed Aaliyah’s lower back as she stepped ahead of him, laughing at something he said under his breath. She looked like she knew she was the main character. Like the city lights outside were hers to walk into.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Silence settled.

Sanaa stood near the arm of the couch, phone still in hand, pulse tickin’ too fast in her neck. The soft glow from the lamp cast long shadows on the floor, but Erik stood out like a damn silhouette. Still in that tank top. Still barefoot. Still brooding. He was by the window now. Arms crossed over that thick chest, jaw set. His locs hung just enough to shadow his eyes, but she didn’t need to see ’em to feel it. That look was already on her. Slowly, he turned. His stare dragged over her like it had weight. And Sanaa—she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just held it. Her lips parted. Barely. But nothing came out. The tension between them was sharp. Thick. Like it could be pulled apart and tied around her throat.

Erik’s eyes dropped once. To her mouth. Then lower. Then back up. Still not a word. And just when she thought he might speak—might finally say some slick shit to push her over—he turned.

Walked off without a glance.

Broad back disappearing down the hallway. Heavy steps. Calm like a storm moving in. Sanaa just stood there, breath shallow, thighs pressed tight, heart knocking.

Then her phone buzzed. And she knew—he wasn’t done

Erik:  I’ma fuck my name into that pussy.

Erik’s door was shut.

That alone made her nerves scream.

Sanaa walked past it slow, barefoot on the hardwood, every step deliberate like the apartment might hear her thinking too loud. The living room felt different now. Too quiet. Too charged. Like the air itself was waiting on something to pop off. She didn’t look at his door when she passed it. Didn’t dare. But her body felt it anyway. The heat coming from behind that wood. The weight of him on the other side, knowing she was there. Knowing she was alone now.

She slipped into her room and shut the door softly behind her.

Click.

The sound landed heavy.

She leaned back against it for a second, eyes closed, chest rising and falling too fast. Her phone was in her hand, screen dark. No texts. No commands. No permission. And that almost made it worse. She peeled her clothes off slow. Jeans first, sliding them down her hips, stepping out of them like she had all the time in the world. Her panties were already damp, clinging in that needy way she hated and loved at the same time. She left them on. On purpose.

She pulled on an oversized tee. Old. Soft. A vintage rock band shirt that used to belong to somebody else, sleeves stretched, hem falling mid-thigh. It slipped off one shoulder when she moved, exposing smooth brown skin and the strap of her bra. The fabric brushed against her nipples every time she breathed and they were already tight, already sensitive, already betraying her. She sat on the edge of the bed and bounced her knee, restless. Hands fidgeting. Fingers digging into her thigh, then her stomach, then her chest like she didn’t know where to put them.

Her body felt loud. Her pussy felt louder.

A deep ache sat between her legs, low and constant, not sharp but heavy. Like something was pressing from the inside out. Like she was full of anticipation instead of anything solid. Her thighs pressed together without her telling them to, the slick heat between them making her suck in a breath through her teeth.

She’d been waiting for this. That truth settled in her chest and didn’t move.

Waiting since the first time she caught him watching her from across the room. Waiting since the first time his voice dropped when he said her name. Waiting through every almost-touch, every too-long stare, every moment she pretended she wasn’t thinking about how he’d feel on top of her. Inside her. Over her. Making her behave.

This was her moment. And she was scared as hell.

Not scared of him. Scared of herself. Of how bad she wanted to walk down that hall, open his door, and offer herself up just like he said. Knees soft. Head tilted. Mouth ready.

She stood up. Her heart thudded hard, heavy, like it was trying to talk her out of it and failing. She smoothed the shirt down, pushed her shoulders back, lifted her chin. Took a breath that didn’t steady her at all.

Then she walked to her bedroom door. Her hand wrapped around the knob. Warm. Slightly slick.

She opened it.

And he was right there.

Close.

Too close.

Sanaa gasped before she could stop herself. The sound caught in her throat, sharp and soft all at once. Her body reacted faster than her mind. Chest jumping. Thighs tightening. That ache flaring hot and needy. Erik stood in the hallway like he’d been waiting the whole time. Locs loose around his face. His presence filled the space between them instantly, heavy and undeniable. His eyes dropped to her shoulder, the way the shirt slipped, the bare skin offered up without her meaning to.

Then his gaze lifted. Locked on hers. Her breath shook. She didn’t step back.

The door behind her was still open. Her room exposed. Her bed visible over her shoulder. Everything about her right there for him to take in. And the silence between them was thick enough to choke on.

She swallowed.

He didn’t touch her. Not yet. But the way he moved toward her felt like contact all the same.

Erik stepped in close. One step. Another. Measured. Intentional. His shoulders filled the narrow space and the quiet hum of the hall seemed to fade under the weight of him. She backed up without thinking, breath catching low in her chest, until her spine met the cool wall.

He kept walking.

Not rushing. Not crowding her clumsily. Just closing in at a pace that said he already knew she wasn’t going anywhere. His eyes locked on hers the entire time, that low heat building the longer neither of them spoke.

Sanaa felt her pulse throb at the base of her throat. Erik lifted his arms, planted his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head, and that simple motion swallowed the rest of the hallway. The muscles in his forearms flexed. His scent curled into the tiny pocket of space between them. She could feel the warmth coming off his chest even though they weren’t touching.

A small, stunned breath slipped out of her.

He didn’t move closer. He didn’t lean all the way in. He didn’t even let his body graze hers. He just stood there, caging her in, staring down at her like he was deciding what to do with a temptation he had tried too long to ignore. The silence stretched tight. Heat wound through her ribs. Sanaa lifted her chin a little, eyes meeting his with the same guarded intensity he came in with, but it didn’t hold. Not against the way he looked at her. Not against the quiet storm rolling behind his eyes. Her composure began to soften. The edges of it loosened. Her lips parted. Her gaze slipped from his eyes to his mouth, then back up again.

Erik saw every shift. Every flicker.

His chest rose slow, fell slow, like he was working to keep himself steady. The lights overhead cast a warm glow over his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the tightness around his eyes where control sat heavy. His height boxed her in. His presence pressed against her without a single point of contact. Sanaa’s breath quickened. Not frantic. Just…aware. Aware of him. Aware of the heat rising low in her stomach. Aware of the subtle ache forming before he ever laid a finger on her. Her back stayed flat against the wall. Her thighs eased together for no reason except the way he looked at her.

His eyes dipped. Slow. Deliberate. Down her face, over her lips, then back to her gaze like he wanted to see if she’d break.

She did. Just a little.

Her lashes lowered in a slow blink. Her breathing deepened. Her lips stayed parted. Her heartbeat pulsed all through her, tightening, waiting, wanting something she wasn’t going to say first. Erik shifted his weight slightly forward, and the change in proximity alone sent a warm rush down her spine. He still didn’t touch her. But his presence filled her senses so completely that her body reacted as if he had. Her throat bobbed in a swallow. Her voice didn’t come. The air felt thick, too charged to cut through with anything foolish like a word.

He stayed like that, looking down at her while the tension built between their bodies. That subtle, slow pull that crept from silence to desire. Her fingers curled against the wall. Her breath brushed the front of his shirt. Her pulse fluttered wild beneath her skin. And Erik let the stare hold. So heavy. So intense. So slow that it pulled her deeper into it, inch by inch. Her face shifted again, the last bit of resistance slipping. Desire sat openly in her eyes now, warm and unguarded. Her gaze traced his lips again before settling back on him. Her chest lifted in a small inhale that pressed her body closer to the invisible line between them.

Erik’s jaw tensed. That was all he let himself show. But it was enough for her to feel it. The air tightened. Their breath mingled. A quiet, electric charge coiled in the center of that hallway like something ready to strike if one of them leaned even an inch closer. She didn’t touch him. He didn’t touch her. But the need sat thick in the space between their mouths, almost tangible. Almost warm enough to feel.

Erik didn’t push his body into hers. He didn’t lift a hand. He didn’t rush a single inch. But he dipped his head, lowering it until his locs brushed the side of her cheek like a dark curtain falling around them.

Sanaa’s breath stuttered.

He exhaled slow. Warm. Steady. The kind of breath that felt like it traveled straight through her skin. Her knees threatened to give just from the heat of it. Her pulse fluttered wildly against the wall behind her spine.

Then, right against her ear, low enough to curl her toes, he confessed.

“I want you.”

Not loud. Not soft. But certain, like gravity.

Sanaa shut her eyes because her body reacted before she could stop it. A shiver climbed her back, small and sharp, as if those three words reached places he hadn’t even touched.

He waited for that reaction. Savored it. Then his voice brushed her again, deeper now, “But you already knew that, huh?”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her lips parted, but the sound didn’t come. Her chest rose in a trembling breath, the silence itself exposing everything she thought she was hiding.

Erik angled his head a little, eyes on her like he could see straight through her, “You ain’t even gotta say it,” he said, voice thick with heat, “Cuz you want me too. That’s why you teasing me so much, right?”

Sanaa’s teeth caught the corner of her lip. Slow. Soft. Almost like a plea disguised as hesitation. Her gaze lifted, locking with his, and the look she gave him was the closest thing to surrender without a single word spoken.

He leaned in until their faces were almost touching, breath mingling, both of them pulled tight into the moment, “Worked so hard to break me,” he spoke low, voice steady and low as his eyes dragged over her mouth, “And it worked.”

Her stomach tightened.

He dipped closer, bringing his lips to the point where she could feel the warmth of them without contact. Her breath caught with a soft, shaky sound as he continued, “Because now…” The words ghosted her mouth. His breath slid across her lips, light enough to set off sparks under her skin, “…now I’ma show you what happens when you provoke me, lil miss ‘I want my best friend’s older brother to fuck me.’”

Sanaa’s expression changed instantly. Desire pulled her features soft and dreamy. Lips parted. Eyes low, heavy-lidded, almost dazed. Like he’d taken her legs out from under her without even touching her.

She still didn’t speak. Her silence told on her.

Erik watched that look spread over her, studied it like he wanted to memorize every shift. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as if considering her, “Now…” he said quietly, “what to do about that…”

His gaze dropped down her body, slow enough to make her breathing quicken, then back up. He lifted his hand a fraction, not touching her, just bringing it close enough for her to feel the heat coming off his skin. His voice deepened, “These scars?” His free hand rose between them, palm turned slightly so she could see the patterns carved into his skin, “Each one for a kill.”

Her breath hitched hard, chest lifting in a trembling inhale.

“You sure you wanna go there with me?” he asked, tone steady as a pulse, “Cuz I don’t fuck like them lil niggas you prolly used to.” He bent a little closer. Close enough that her lips grazed his breath again, “That jackhammer shit?” His eyes lowered to her mouth, “Nah.” His voice dropped to something dark. Something dangerous. Something that wrapped around her spine and pulled her forward without touch, “I’ma leave my dick print in your guts for the rest of your fuckin life, girl.”

Her inhale broke. Quiet. Sharp. Her lips parted wider. Her knees pressed together. Her body trembled with a reaction she couldn’t hide. And she still didn’t speak. But she didn’t need to. He could feel her answer in the heat between them. Erik let a soft chuckle slip out of him, low in his chest, dangerous in that quiet way men sound when they know they have you trembling. It carved into the tight space between them and hit Sanaa right in her stomach. His single dimple dipped into his cheek, that little flash of softness wrapped around something entirely unsoft. He licked his lips once, a slow sweep of his tongue across the bottom one, gold slugs glinting under the hallway light.

Then he spoke, “You ever heard of a grind, baby girl?” His voice rolled over her skin like warm smoke, “Ever seen it? I’m sure you have…girl like you prolly got a whole bookmark saved on your Twitter…”

Her reaction was instant. Immediate. Almost physical in a way that made her embarrassed to breathe. A pulse throbbed between her thighs so sharp she nearly whimpered. Heat flooded her underwear so fast she felt it soak straight through the cotton, sticky and warm against her skin. Her nipples tightened under her tank, pushing hard against the fabric, so sensitive they tingled at the slightest shift in air between them. Goosebumps rose along her arms and belly, a shiver rolling up her spine like a slow electric climb.

And all he did was talk.

Erik watched the way she reacted, watched the tension in her throat, the small way she pulled in a breath she couldn’t hide. He leaned closer, his words dropping lower, “I fuck to make you feel me,” he said, that deep timbre sinking into her bones, “And I don’t rush it. I ain’t chasing a nut. I’m aiming to make you melt, baby.”

Her thighs pressed tight together.

“That’s what a grown man do.”

Sanaa’s lips parted again, barely a sound leaving her. Her breath shook. Her chest rose and fell in soft, uneven pulls like she couldn’t catch herself. Erik lifted his hand slowly, so slow she felt each inch of anticipation travel up her nerves. He didn’t grab her. He didn’t grip. He used a single knuckle and stroked her cheek with a touch so careful it sent a hot, aching wave straight through her middle.

He bit his bottom lip as he looked at her, “You so damn pretty, Nae Nae.”

The nickname hit deeper because of the way he said it. Low. Possessive. Like she had no idea what she was doing to him.

“Had a nigga shook when you walked out with them lil ass shorts on.” His eyes darkened, “I was like mmm…fuuuck. This Sanaa? Lil shy, quiet, hiding in the corner Sanaa?” His gaze swept down her body, slow enough to make her stomach clench again. He took in every curve, every shift in her breathing, the way her nipples pressed hard against her top, the way she couldn’t keep her thighs still anymore. His voice dropped to something that touched her like a hand, “Thoughts ran through my mind…” He took one breath. Let it sit, “Like damn. I know she taste real good.”

Her knees almost buckled.

“I’d slurp her up. Dip my tongue in that pretty pink puss…”

A soft sound escaped her throat, almost too faint to hear, but he caught it. Her eyes went dreamy, unfocused, pupils blown wide. Her lips stayed parted. Her chest trembled.

She was ruined.

Standing there with her back against the wall, sweating under the intensity of him, panties soaked through, nipples hard enough to ache, breath coming in shallow, shaky pulls because she had never been this turned on without a single touch.

And he knew it.

“You like the way I’m talkin’ to you, lil baby?” His voice was dark silk, slow and dragging, dipped in something slick that made her toes curl in her shoes. Sanaa nodded, slow and dazed, like her body answered before her brain could catch up. Erik tsk’d. A low sound of disappointment that made her shiver, “Uh-uh,” he said, tilting his head slightly, eyes burning into hers, “Open your mouth. Don’t act mute now.”

It took effort to speak. Her lips parted around a tiny whisper, “Yes.”

He smiled at that. Not a kind smile. Not a gentle one. The kind that showed he had her exactly where he wanted her. The kind that made her thighs clench harder and her panties feel wetter than she even thought possible. The fabric was sticking now, warm and soaked and clinging between her legs like she’d already been touched.

“Why you want me so bad?” he asked, licking his bottom lip slow, “Tired of the same old sorry ass dick?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, eyes heavy-lidded. He saw the answer before she gave it, but he wanted to hear it anyway.

“You wanna see what I can do to that pretty pussy?”

Sanaa shifted where she stood. Her hips rocked forward a little, like her body needed to move, needed to do something about the ache pooling in her core. She bit her lip, then nodded once—then again, slower, “Yes.”

Erik’s voice dipped lower, rougher now, dragging the words out like he wanted her to feel each one between her legs, “Want me to open you up?”

Sanaa’s breath hitched. Her back arched slightly, nipples hard as diamonds beneath her shirt, brushing against the fabric with every breath she took.

“You ain’t scared it’s gon’ be too much?”

She tilted her head the tiniest bit, tongue resting in the corner of her mouth, her expression hazy and thick with heat. Her lashes fluttered as her gaze dropped, then lifted back to his, “Mmm mmm.”

His eyebrow arched, “What’s mmm mmm?” he asked, smile deepening with a hint of threat, “I don’t know what that is. Words.”

Sanaa blinked slow, eyes low, lips wet, “No, daddy.”

The silence thickened around them.

Erik’s jaw twitched. He bit down on his bottom lip, those gold slugs gleaming just behind it, nostrils flaring slightly as he inhaled through his nose. Her calling him that—soft, sweet, no hesitation—sent a pulse straight to his dick. He hadn’t even touched her yet and she was dripping, trembling, mouth half-open like she’d been fucked already.

“Oh,” he said, voice rough and low, “Shit…so you ain’t scared then?”

Sanaa’s lips parted again, breath fogging between them, chest rising, “No, daddy.”

The way she said it? Soft but certain. Sticky sweet like syrup down the back of his throat. Her pupils were blown wide, lips kiss-swollen, and the front of her panties now damn near ruined—wet enough she’d have to peel them off. Erik pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and bit down on his lip again, hard this time, fighting the urge to devour her right then and there. She was ready. He could see it in the glassy look in her eyes. He could smell it between them. Could feel it in the heat she was radiating off her skin like steam rising from a kettle.

And she still hadn’t even been touched. Not once.

All this?

Just from his voice.

Erik’s fingers hooked in the hem of her shirt. Slow. Intentional. He lifted it just high enough to expose the waistband of her panties—soft cotton, soaked straight through in the center. His eyes lingered. He didn’t touch her yet, not really. Just looked. Took his time like a man admiring something he already knew he was about to own.

“Look at you,” he said under his breath, “Got this lil’ pussy cryin’. She know who it belong to.”

Sanaa’s breath caught. Her thighs squeezed together, trying to ease the ache, but it only made it worse. She could feel how wet she was, the heat slick and obscene against her skin. Erik noticed—of course he did.

“Uh uh,” he said, nudging her thighs apart with just the press of his knee between hers, “Don’t hide that shit. Lemme see what I did.”

Her breath shuddered. She didn’t move away. Didn’t resist. She let him part her legs, just slightly, standing in front of him like a girl about to be unwrapped.

He leaned in close, lips brushing her ear, voice thick with dark promise, “I’m gon’ stretch you, Sanaa. Real slow. Real deep. Make sure this tight lil’ pussy remember me.”

She whimpered. Actually whimpered. It spilled out unplanned, soft and sweet, like her body responded before she could stop it.

Erik grinned against her jaw, grazing her skin with the tips of his teeth. “Yeah,” he drawled, “you gone learn tonight.”

Then he stepped back just a little—enough to look down her body, enough to see her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her shirt. He ran his thumb over one slowly, watching the way her lips parted like it shocked her, how her hips tilted like her pussy was clenching again.

“You this sensitive?” he asked, low and amused, “Wait til’ I taste this pussy. You gon’ melt when I do.”

Sanaa nodded, lips glossy, voice barely a whisper, “Please…”

He smirked, eyes still locked on her, “Please what?”

She swallowed, “T-Touch me…”

Erik’s head tilted, tongue dragging slow across his bottom lip, “Where you want me to touch you, baby?”

Sanaa’s lips quivered. Her body leaned into his like she couldn’t hold herself upright anymore.

“My pussy,” she whispered, followed by a soft whine.

“Mmm.” He let out a low hum, eyes never leaving hers, “Say it louder. I need to know you mean that shit.”

She hesitated, only for a second. Then she looked him dead in the eye and said it again—this time stronger. Hungrier.

“Touch my pussy, daddy.”

His hand was on her before she finished the word. One broad palm slid down the front of her panties, cupping her through the soaked fabric. Warm. Heavy. Possessive. His fingers pressed in—just enough to feel the heat, the pulse, the mess she’d made. He groaned low in his throat.

“Goddamn, girl…you wet like I already been in it.”

Sanaa’s eyes fluttered. Her knees weakened.

He slid a finger beneath the waistband, dipped in slow and deep until he touched her bare. Wet, slick, hot. His finger slid through the mess she’d made, knuckle deep, and her mouth dropped open in a silent cry.

“There it go,” Erik rasped, “Told you I was gon’ open you up.”

Sanaa whimpered again, thighs shaking, her body trying to close around his hand, but he held her still. His finger worked deeper, curved just right, and her back arched, hands gripping his forearms like she needed to hold onto something solid.

“You feel that?” he said, voice thick, “That stretch?”

She nodded fast, moaning through clenched teeth.

“Don’t run,” he warned, voice a deep growl, “I’m not even two fingers in yet. I’m just warmin’ you up.”

Sanaa was panting now. Sweating. Dripping, “Erik…”

He kissed her neck. Then sucked it. Let his teeth graze her skin as he slid another finger inside.

She gasped—loud this time.

He smiled, “There she go.”

Her body jerked. She was clenching around his fingers, wetness coating his palm now, and Erik just kept working them in slow, deep strokes. Not fast. Not rushed. Just pressure and rhythm and filth.

“You said teach you how to take it, right?”

She nodded, desperate, whimpering.

“Say it again,” he growled in her ear, thumb now circling her clit slow.

“Teach me, daddy,” she cried, voice shaking. “Please—show me how to take it.”

“Oh I’ma show your greedy ass. And you bet not forget a single stroke.” He pulled his fingers out, soaked and shining, then brought them to her lips, “Taste what I do to you.”

She didn’t even hesitate. Mouth opened. Tongue out. She sucked his fingers clean while moaning, eyes rolling back just a little from the taste. And Erik? Erik’s dick jumped hard in his sweats.

“Yeah,” he whispered, voice low as hell, “You mine now.”

Sanaa whimpered.

Erik’s dick brushed her belly through his joggers, thick and heavy, and her breath hitched on impact. She felt it—hot through the cotton, thick enough to make her blink slow and look down. The print was obscene. Long, fat, curving toward his hip with the kind of weight that made her thighs tense again. Her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth like instinct, lips parting on a shaky breath. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Erik saw the way she looked. The way her gaze dropped and stayed there. His voice was all heat, low and pleased.

“Go ‘head, miss greedy. Rub me.”

Sanaa’s hand moved on its own. Slow. Careful. She brought it down between them and pressed her palm against the thick ridge stretching his joggers.

The heat met her first.

It was warm through the fabric—almost hot—and stiff as hell. Thick. Her fingers trembled when they brushed the full weight of it. Not just long but wide, heavy, meaty in a way she wasn’t used to. It curved slightly to the left, and she could feel the exact shape of it pressing into her palm even through the joggers. Her whole hand didn’t wrap around it at first. She had to adjust her grip, slide her palm across the length of it and back again.

“Shit…” she moaned. 

She hadn’t meant to say it. But it slipped out anyway, whispered under her breath as her fingers stroked over the bulge again. She applied more pressure. Felt it throb in response. The whole thing jumped against her hand and she froze for a second, thighs clenching, her pussy clenching too. Sanaa stared, mesmerized. Watching the way her fingers moved over the thick ridge, seeing the way it swelled, how the head of it sat high and proud against the front of his joggers. That tip had a little dent where the fabric gave in, already damp from the precum leaking steady beneath. She gave a slow stroke up, then back down, palm flat. Then she did it again—this time wrapping her fingers just a little, rubbing it like she was warming it up. The way it twitched told her everything. That dick was alive. Pulsing in her grip. Hard as hell and still growing.

“This dick big as fuck…” she whispered, eyes wide, lips parted.

Erik grinned, head tilting just enough to let her see the glint of gold across his teeth, “Uh-huh,” he said, deep and smug, chest rising slow, “And that’s before I even pull it out.”

Sanaa didn’t say anything at first. She just kept rubbing. Her thumb traced the vein she could feel through the fabric. Her fingers closed tighter, sliding down toward the base. He was thick all the way through. No taper. No mercy. The feel of him in her hand was almost too much. Her panties, already soaked, felt wetter now. Sticky against her folds. Every slow drag of her hand across him made her clench tighter, made her want more. Her body reacted on instinct, hips shifting, breath catching.

She wanted to see it. Needed to.

She let her fingers linger low, pressing just under the head. The wet spot was bigger now. She felt it with her thumb and let out a soft breath.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

Her thighs were trembling.

Erik watched her, eyes dark with amusement, “That wetness yours or mine?”

She blinked. Looked up at him with that same dazed heat in her eyes.

“Both,” she said, almost too quiet.

That made him smile harder. He reached down and gripped the waistband of his joggers, “You wanna see what you been rubbing on?”

Sanaa nodded, hand still holding him.

“Say it,” he said, “Ask for it like a good girl.” 

She hesitated only a second, then licked her lips, “Lemme see your dick, daddy.” She damn near begged, slightly tugging downward on his length. 

He dragged his pants down slow. Not all the way—just low enough to free the monster she’d been teasing.

And there it was.

It dropped out, heavy and thick, no underwear in the way. The shaft curved up slightly, thick at the base, even thicker near the middle, and the head was fat and flushed dark with blood. A glistening bead sat right at the tip.

Sanaa’s breath caught in her throat.

It was the kind of dick that made you pause. Not just long—long and pretty, veins rising along the sides like a roadmap for the way he was about to rearrange her guts.

She stared. Couldn’t look away.

“You still greedy?” Erik asked, voice thick. Brow arched. Lips slightly parted and gold slugs peaking. 

Sanaa nodded slowly. Her hand moved again, fingers wrapping around him bare this time. The difference was insane. She felt the skin glide under her palm. The heat of it. The throb. She gave one slow stroke down and felt the weight pull. Another stroke up. Her thumb swiped the leaking tip. His whole body flexed.

“You sure?” he asked again, eyes steady on hers, “Cuz once I put this dick in you, you not gon’ be the same.”

Sanaa moaned, low and desperate, “I don’t wanna be the same…”

Erik grinned, “Say less.”

She stood in front of him like she was made to fit there—head tilted slightly, lips parted just enough, chest rising slow like she was bracing for something that already had her trembling. Erik brought his hand up and wrapped it around the side of her neck. Not rough, not choking, but heavy. Possessive. His palm was warm against her throat, thumb resting right beneath her jaw, fingers spread behind her ear, holding her still. Sanaa’s breath caught when he leaned in close. His face inches from hers. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, the slow drag of it over her mouth. His nose brushed hers—once, then again—and she let her eyes flutter closed.

But he didn’t kiss her.

Not yet.

His lips hovered over hers, soft but never touching. The anticipation made her knees weak, “Breathe,” he whispered.

She did. Shaky and shallow.

Their mouths finally touched—barely. A soft graze. A tease. Sanaa’s lips parted with a soft gasp. Her body leaned into him more, but he still didn’t kiss her. He held her there, right on the edge, the tension sharp enough to snap. Then—slow as sin—he stuck his tongue out and dragged it across her lips. Just once. Just enough to make her moan. The sound came from her gut. A low, feminine ache slipping past her throat like her body couldn’t keep it in.

Erik chuckled low. The sound rumbled between them. His thumb lifted slightly, tilting her chin, “Open.”

That one word held weight. It rolled off his tongue like a command dressed in velvet.

And she obeyed.

Her lips parted, her mouth soft and waiting. She didn’t even blink. She just gave herself to it—whatever this was. The gravity between them. The way it pulled. Erik’s lips met hers in full this time. Hot and slow. Tongue first, pushing past the seam of her lips, tasting her, pulling her under.

Sanaa melted.

Her mouth opened wider to meet his. Their tongues met in the middle—slick and slow, sliding over each other like silk. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like he was determined to make her feel every second of it. Their lips smacked softly in the quiet room. No rush. No desperation. Just heat. Slow grind. Deep pulls of breath between them. Sanaa’s hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. Her head tilted to the side, and Erik followed her movement, adjusting the angle like they were dancing.

Because that’s what it felt like.

A dance.

Their mouths moved like partners—tilting, swaying, deepening. Every time they came up for air, they went right back in. Lips brushing, then sealing. Tongues swiping, teasing, pressing. His hand never left her throat. His thumb stroked slow under her chin while his other hand slid down her waist and pulled her closer. Her body molded against him now. She kissed him like she’d been waiting years for it. Like it was already a memory and a prophecy at the same time. He tasted like warmth. Like power and salt and something a little dangerous. Sanaa moaned again, louder this time. Erik swallowed it. Kissed her harder. He deepened the kiss, sucked her bottom lip, then dragged his tongue along it again. Her knees buckled, and he caught her with a firm hand around her waist.

“Uh uh,” he whispered into her mouth, “I got you.”

He kissed her again before she could answer. Tongue diving, then pulling back, then diving again. He kissed her like he was mapping her, like her mouth had secrets only he could read.

And she let him.

Every soft moan, every tremble, every breath she took—she gave it to him. Their foreheads touched for a moment when they finally broke the kiss, breath mingling, lips still brushing.

Neither of them spoke. The kiss said it all. Sanaa couldn’t breathe right.

Her lips were still parted, swollen from the kiss. Her chest heaved in soft, shallow bursts. She tried to steady herself, tried to blink the haze away, but her body betrayed her. Her thighs clenched tight. Her hands trembled. Her knees? Useless. She was trying to keep it together, but the pressure between her legs was unbearable now. It throbbed—hot, slick, begging. He hadn’t even fucked her yet, and her pussy already felt like she’d been touched, like she’d been worked over and left wet and needy for more. She took a step back, hoping it would help her catch herself, but that only brought her closer to the wall—and Erik? He followed. Didn’t even give her space to speak. He saw her trying to breathe through it. Saw her lips twitching like she wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. His gaze dipped to her chest, watching the rise and fall. Then back to her lips. His jaw ticked.

That was all the warning she got.

Suddenly, Erik’s arms were around her, solid and sure. He picked her up like she weighed nothing—gripped her thick thighs and hoisted her clean off the ground.

All muscle. All power.

He handled her like his arms were made for it. Like he’d been waiting for the moment he could lift her, press her against something, and kiss her breath away again. Sanaa gasped, arms wrapping around his shoulders on instinct. Her legs spread and clung around his waist, locking behind him.

“Erik—”

She barely got the name out before his mouth crashed back into hers.

This kiss wasn’t gentle.

This one was hungry.

Messy.

Hot.

Lips sliding, tongues dancing, breath stealing. He kissed her like he was feeding off her. Like he needed the taste of her just to breathe. Her back slammed gently against the door to her bedroom. The sudden jolt made her moan against his mouth. He gripped her tighter. One hand under her thigh, the other sliding up her back to hold the back of her head as he kissed her deeper. Tongues tangled. Lips smacked. She was losing track of where her body ended and his began. Her pussy pulsed hard behind her panties, slick and ready, soaking through the fabric and no doubt pressing into the front of his joggers. She was riding that line between need and madness now, whimpering into his mouth, clinging to him like she couldn’t get close enough.

His voice broke through the kiss in pieces, heavy against her lips, “You tryna hold it together?” he asked, his mouth brushing hers, breath hot.

Sanaa nodded against him, then shook her head, then nodded again. She didn’t know. Her brain was gone. He kissed her again. A deep, slow drag of tongue that made her stomach flip and her toes curl behind his back.

“Nah,” he breathed, “Don’t fight it. Let that shit go.”

He grinded against her as he said it. Slow. Thick. Letting her feel every inch of that heavy dick pressed against the throb between her legs. She moaned into his mouth again—louder this time. And her legs tightened around him like a vice. She tried to hold back, tried to stay quiet, but it was impossible. He kissed her again and again and again, each time deeper, messier, wetter. Their mouths didn’t separate for more than a second. They kissed like they were possessed. Like they’d been starving and just found their first meal. The door behind her rattled. Her bedroom. She reached back blindly and fumbled for the handle. Erik chuckled against her lips, still kissing her, still grinding that dick against her soaked core through their clothes.

“Go ‘head,” he said, dragging his lips down her jaw, “Open that door and show me where I’m ‘bout to fuck your lil’ ass up.”

Sanaa’s fingers shook as they found the handle.

Click.

The door swung open behind her. And Erik walked them in. Still holding her. Still kissing her like he owned every breath in her lungs.

He didn’t slam it.

He cracked it. Left it open just enough. Like he wanted the night to hear what was about to happen. Like he needed the air to move around them, carry the scent of her arousal into the walls. Sanaa’s back hit the bed soft as he laid her down. His hands lingered, holding her there for a second, palms wide on her thighs like he wasn’t ready to let go yet. Her chest rose, lips still parted from all the kissing, her body twitching beneath him like it didn’t know what to do with itself.

She was breathless. Eyes glassy. Skin hot.

“Damn…” she whispered, blinking slow.

Erik stood over her, tall and dark in the shadows of her room, chest rising as he took in the sight of her laid out like that—hair fanned against the pillow, shirt tugged up just enough to show a strip of brown stomach, panties sticking to her soaked pussy like a second skin. He licked his bottom lip and shook his head once. Then he stepped between her legs.

She opened for him without thinking.

He reached down and grabbed her calves, both hands gripping firm, thumbs brushing over the curve of her legs. Then his hands slid lower—one to her ankle, the other to her foot. He lifted her legs gently. Set one foot on his chest. The other he held in his hand, thumbing the arch slow while watching her.

Then he kissed her ankle.

Once.

Then again.

And on the third kiss, he looked up at her and spoke.

“Why you play in your pussy and not ask for help?”

The question hit like a thud in her chest.

Sanaa’s breath caught. Her legs twitched in his hands. She gave a soft smile, trying to hide the way her thighs clenched.

“How would you have helped?” she asked, voice low, teasing.

Erik leaned forward, bending her legs back as he closed the space between them. His mouth hovered near hers, but he didn’t kiss her yet. Just spoke it, real slow, voice dragging like it was made to melt her.

“I would’ve instructed you on how to stroke it…what toy to use…how to make yourself cum.” His lips brushed hers on the last word, then trailed down to her jaw, “And when you were done?” he whispered, “I would’ve cleaned up the mess with my tongue.”

Sanaa whimpered, mouth falling open. Her hips lifted slightly, grinding up without her even meaning to. She was soaked now. Drenched. Her panties clung to her like a wet towel and Erik could feel it—smell it. It had him rock hard, that big fat dick of his pressing heavy against the damp cotton at her center. He leaned down between her legs, thick thighs spreading wide around his hips as he kissed her again. Deeper this time. Messier. His body settled against hers. That heavy dick dragging up against her slit, the pressure making her moan into his mouth.

Sanaa arched up into it.

She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him in, her hands sliding everywhere. Over his arms—thick, veiny, strong. Over his chest—broad and warm beneath his fitted tee. Up the back of his neck—fingers slipping under his locs, rubbing slow at the base of his scalp.

“I love your body,” she said, soft and slow like a confession.

Erik pulled back just enough to look down at her.

That look he gave? Made her clit jump.

He cocked his head slightly, smiling like he knew he had her trembling and couldn’t wait to make it worse.

“What you love about it, baby girl?”

Sanaa sat up, chest pressed to his, legs still parted wide around his hips. Her hands traced the dip between his pecs, then slid across his chest—her nails soft against his shirt, then down to his waist. She reached beneath the fabric and slowly lifted it up, revealing the warm brown muscle beneath, the ridges of his abs, the sharp taper of his V-line. She pulled the tank over his head and dropped it on the floor.

Then she touched him again.

This time with both hands, tracing the scars that ran across his torso and arms. Her fingers moved gentle over them, no hesitation. She looked up at him the whole time—eyes low-lidded, mouth parted, her voice still that sexy hush that wrapped around him like velvet.

“I love the way you move,” she said, “How strong you are. How your arms feel when you carry me.” Her palm slid across his shoulder, then down his side, “I love your scars…they feel like stories.”

Erik swallowed, jaw flexing.

Then she leaned up and kissed one of the scars near his ribs. Her lips lingered, “And I like how dangerous you are.” Her eyes rose to meet his again. Slow. Steady. Full of something that made his dick twitch between her legs, “You don’t talk much. But I can feel it…all that heat underneath.”

Erik’s breath caught in his throat.

Sanaa tilted her head, voice even softer now. Sultry. Laced in that siren energy that made men forget who they were, “You’re the kind of man who ruins a woman right. That’s why I wanted you. Why I touched myself thinking about it. Why I waited for you to make the first move.” She leaned in close, lips brushing his, “You feel like danger,” she whispered, “And I wanna feel all of it.”

Erik’s hand wrapped around the side of her neck again. Gripped it firm, thumb brushing her jaw. He kissed her. Hard this time. Hungry again. Their bodies pressed close. That thick dick grinding right against her clit through the soaked barrier of her panties. Her back arched, moaning into his mouth.

Erik pulled back for just a second. His voice dropped, “You sure, princess?”

Sanaa smiled. And said the only word he needed to hear, “Fuck yes.”

Erik kissed her like he was claiming breath from her lungs, then finally pulled back just enough to look down at her. Sanaa lay beneath him on the bed, chest rising, lips wet, eyes heavy with that quiet hunger that made him lose focus. He placed one palm flat on her stomach. Warm. Firm. Commanding.

“Take this off,” he said quietly.

But he did it for her. 

His fingers hooked into the hem of her shirt. He didn’t yank it. He didn’t rush. He lifted it slow, letting the fabric drag over her skin, letting the cool air kiss each inch that he revealed. Her stomach tensed. Her nipples hardened before he even reached them. The shirt rose up to her ribs. He leaned in and kissed the exposed skin there, soft at first, then deeper. His mouth trailed across her side, right beneath her breast. She gasped as he nipped lightly, then soothed the spot with his tongue.

He lifted the shirt higher. Her breasts spilled free.

Erik froze.

His eyes darkened, scanning every curve, every soft rise, every warm brown inch of her. He touched one breast with his fingertips, tracing the slope from the top down to her nipple. The touch was light but it woke something deep in her belly.

He brought his mouth down.

He sucked her nipple slow, drawing it between his lips. His tongue circled it. Pressure first, then a gentle pull. It made Sanaa arch, a tight breath escaping her throat. Her hands gripped his arms, fingers digging, nails dragging. Erik switched to the other nipple. He teased it with the tip of his tongue, then sucked harder. Sanaa whimpered, her thighs rubbing together, trying to calm the throb between them. He peeled the shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it aside. Then he looked at her body fully. Stretched on her bed. Glowing. Breathing fast. Ready for whatever he wanted. He slid down her body and kissed her collarbone. Then her shoulder. Then the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. His lips lingered there, sucking gently until her breath hitched. His mouth lowered again, kissing down the center of her chest. He kissed under her breasts, along the edge of her ribs. Then he moved to her stomach. He kissed the top of it. Then the center. Then lower. His lips were warm and full against her skin. The glide of his mouth made her toes curl.

He dipped his tongue into her navel.

Slow. Deliberate.

Sanaa moaned. A soft little sound she couldn’t hold back. Her fingers slid into his locs, gripping the thick, twisted cords, rubbing his scalp as he continued moving downward. Erik kissed the soft flesh just above her panties. His breath brushed the damp cotton, and she shivered. He kissed the left hip. Then the right. Then the inside of her left thigh. He didn’t just kiss her thighs. He worshiped them with his mouth. He opened her legs wider and kissed slowly, all the way down to her knee, then back up, tracing the line of her inner thigh with the flat of his tongue. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably. He looked up at her, saw her chest rising sharp and quick, saw her lip caught between her teeth.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “I see how bad you want it.”

He kissed the right thigh the same way. Long, wet, dragging kisses that made her hips jump. Her hands tightened in his locs. She tugged at the roots. Scraped his scalp lightly with her nails. He groaned into her skin. When he lifted his head, his mouth was inches from her center. He pressed his face there, right against her pussy through the fabric.

And inhaled.

Deep.

Slow.

Like he wanted her scent in his lungs. Sanaa let out a broken sound, her hips rising into his face, needing more contact.

“Smell so damn sweet,” he said against her. His warm breath spread through the soaked cotton, “you been wet long enough. Marinated long enough,” He chuckled softly. 

She moaned again, fingers tightening in his hair.

Erik hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, “Lift your hips.”

She obeyed instantly.

He pulled the panties down slow. Painfully slow. The fabric peeled away from her pussy, sticking slightly from how wet she was, stretching, then snapping free.

He froze.

The panties stayed between his fingers, hanging useless, because he could not look away from what he saw. Her pussy glistened in the low light. Warm brown lips full and soft. Slightly parted from how swollen she was. Her inner lips peeked out, darker, slick with clear arousal. A drop fell as he watched. Another followed behind it, sliding down toward the curve of her ass.

He raised his brows, “Goddamn.”

His voice was low. Rough. Real.

Her pussy looked tender and inviting. Puffy with heat. Shiny and wet. Beautiful in a way that pulled his breath straight from him.

He looked up at her before he spoke, “You this wet for me?”

Sanaa nodded, eyes glossy. He let the panties fall to the floor. Erik slid his hands under the backs of her thighs and lifted them, opening her wider, exposing everything.

He stared.

Then he spoke it, “This the prettiest pussy I ever seen.” His voice dropped lower, almost like he was confessing something he couldn’t hold, “Plush. Warm. Look at how it’s glistenin.” He ran one finger along her outer lips, barely touching, watching the wetness coat his skin, “You stayin wet like this for me…” He shook his head. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ drip like this.”

He pressed two fingers to her entrance. Her pussy opened for him.

Slow.

Welcoming.

Sanaa gasped.

Erik licked his lips, “Yeah,” he whispered, “You perfect. A nigga could lose his mind between these legs.” He lowered his head until his mouth hovered right above her center, “Spread yourself for me, baby,” he said, “Lemme see you open.”

Sanaa’s hands trembled as she reached down and parted herself.

Erik inhaled again.

Then his tongue slowly descended.

Erik lowered his head and let the tip of his tongue barely touch her. One flick. Right over the top of her clit. Not a lick, not a suck. Just a flick. A warm, precise, taunting stroke that sent a sharp jolt through her hips. Sanaa gasped, thighs twitching. Her back arched off the bed just enough to chase more contact, but Erik pulled back.

Just like that.

He bit his lip and sat back on his heels, eyes glued to her pussy like it was his favorite thing he’d ever seen.

And honestly? It might’ve been.

That drip…

It slid from her again. Clear. Slow. A warm, sweet string of arousal that leaked from her swollen folds and shined in the low light like melted sugar. He reached up, scrubbed a hand down his beard, jaw tight, eyes heavy. His lips parted slightly, tongue peeking out to taste the last of her off his mouth.

Then he exhaled, real low, “Shit.”

His voice had that Oakland weight to it now—gritty, smooth, full of bass and control. He leaned in just enough to speak against her slick lips, breath hot and filthy.

“How you touch this pretty pussy?”

Sanaa didn’t speak at first. She didn’t need to.

Her hands moved down between her thighs, slow and deliberate. French-tipped nails—soft pink, perfectly shaped—grazed her inner thighs first. Then she reached lower and spread herself open again.

Her fingers were glossy within seconds.

She slid two over her clit in slow, small circles, eyes never leaving Erik’s. Her head tilted slightly to the side, mouth open just enough to breathe. She rested on her elbows, legs bent, toes curled. Her body moved with the rhythm of her own fingers. Gentle rolls of her hips, each one drawing a soft sound from her throat.

“You watching?” she whispered, voice sticky with heat.

Erik’s jaw clenched. His eyes stayed on her hand. The way her fingers moved, the way she pulled her folds apart, then spread the wetness down and circled again for a slicker glide. It was a performance, but not for applause.

It was for him. All for him.

“Mmm,” he growled low, “That’s it. Rub on that clit, greedy girl.”

Sanaa moaned.

She tilted her hips again, her fingers stroking tighter circles now, teasing the peak, pressing into it like she needed to cum from just that. Her thighs trembled slightly. Her breaths came quicker.

“There you go…” Erik said, voice full of grit, “Make that pussy feel good.”

Her brows pinched like she was already close. Her other hand came up to cup her breast, pinching the nipple, lips parting in a breathy moan.

“Look at you…” he said, licking his lips slow, “This what you do when you think about me?”

She nodded, eyes hazy, locked on his like she was drunk off lust. Her fingers never stopped moving.

“Yeah, you be playin in that pussy, huh?” Erik grinned, watching her squirm, “All quiet in the house, rubbin on that clit thinkin’ bout this dick?”

“Uh huh,” she moaned, rolling her hips again.

He leaned in slightly, close enough to feel the heat off her, “Show me more,” he said, “Spread that mess. Let me see how wet you stay.”

Sanaa’s fingers dipped down, slid through her folds, then up again. The shine on her hand was ridiculous.

“Good girl,” Erik praised, voice heavier now, “Good girllll…yeah, that’s it.”

His eyes dropped back down to her center, lips parted. He dragged a hand over his mouth again like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His tongue peeked out and ran across the edge of his lip.

“Goddamn.”

She was dripping. Actively. Wetness gliding over her fingers. Gliding over her folds. Thick, warm, glistening. Her pussy looked edible. Fat, warm brown lips parting just enough to reveal the deeper blush of her inner folds. Everything was glossy. Her clit was peeking, swollen, begging for more pressure. Her fingers spread her open again, and Erik let out a groan from deep in his chest.

“You got the prettiest fuckin pussy I ever seen.” He shook his head again, breathing heavy, “I’m talkin’…this shit got character.” He reached out and pressed two fingers gently against her thigh, steadying himself like he needed to ground his body before he lost it, “Pussy got memory. I can tell.”

Sanaa’s breathing turned shaky, her lips parting again as she kept rubbing soft and slow.

“You tryna make me eat it or what?” he asked, voice all gravel and temptation.

She nodded, biting her lip.

He smirked, “Nah,” he said, “You ain’t askin’ right. What I tell you ‘bout that?”

Sanaa locked eyes with him, still rubbing, voice barely there, “Eat it, Daddy.”

Erik’s face changed.

Sanaa’s fingers were still glistening when she pulled them from between her thighs. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air now—sweet and warm, dripping with heat, the kind of wet that left streaks on her inner thighs and sticky glimmers on her skin.

Erik didn’t even have to ask.

She raised her hand to his mouth, still leaned back on her elbows, hair falling over her shoulder in that silk-pressed curtain that framed her face just right. Her lips parted, teeth catching the corner of her bottom lip. That quiet freak energy wrapped around her like perfume. No theatrics. Just power.

She held her fingers out to him. Shiny. Wet. Deliberate.

“Come get it,” she whispered.

Erik leaned forward, gaze locked on hers. His mouth opened slow. He pulled two of her fingers between his lips and sucked.

Slow. Wet. Intentional.

His tongue glided between the pads of her fingers, tasting the mess she made for him. He moaned low—barely audible but heavy with need—and closed his eyes for a second like it was better than anything he’d ever had on his tongue.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath when her fingers slipped free.

Sanaa just smiled. Bit her lip again. Her legs spread wider. She lay back, still propped up on her elbows, legs bent at the knees. Her pussy glistened like a flower blooming in sunlight—folds soft and full, parted just enough to show off the glossy blush of her inner lips. It looked kissed already. Sticky and warm. Nectar pooling and dripping down.

Erik slid down the bed and settled between her legs.

He didn’t dive in. He had a routine. A rhythm. A way he did this that couldn’t be rushed. He didn’t eat pussy like a boy still trying to impress. He ate it like he knew the power of it—how to control it, how to command it, how to unlock the kind of orgasm that rewired a woman’s brain.

He started with kisses.

Not just kisses—ticklish kisses. Featherlight. Barely there. The first one landed just above her clit. Not on it. The next? Just to the side. Then another on her inner thigh. Then right at the curve of her folds. His lips moved like he was tracing the shape of her pussy with his mouth. Each kiss sent sharp little sparks dancing down her thighs, curling into her toes.

Sanaa gasped. Then whimpered. Her thighs jerked, “Baby…” she moaned.

Erik smirked against her skin. He kissed her clit next. Not a suck. Not even pressure. Just a warm, slow peck.

Then another.

Sanaa’s stomach clenched. Her elbows dug into the mattress, trying to keep her grounded.

Then came the licks.

His tongue flattened and dragged upward, slow and wide, collecting every drop of wetness from the bottom of her slit to the tip of her clit. He tasted her like he’d been waiting months. The sound of his tongue sliding through her folds was filthy.

And she was soaked. Dripping wet. It didn’t matter how much he licked—there was more. Every time his tongue made contact, a new stream coated her lips. It was like her pussy was responding to him directly. Like it knew he was worthy and wanted to give him everything. Her folds opened more under his tongue. Swollen. Shiny. Beautiful. Like butterfly wings slick with nectar.

He pulled back for a second just to look. Licked his lips slow, “Fuck…”

Then he leaned in again. He parted her with his thumbs, exposing the soft pink flesh beneath. Then he sucked.

Soft. Deliberate. Right on the clit.

Sanaa’s entire body twitched. Her hips tilted off the bed like she was trying to get more of it—trying to grind into his face.

“Unh…” she moaned, voice all air and ache.

Erik held her thighs steady. Gave another slow, wet suck.

“You like that?” he asked, voice low and gritty, “When I suck you like that?”

Sanaa’s lips curled into a half smile. She bit her bottom lip again, chest heaving, legs trembling, “Yes, daddy,” she said, soft and sexy, hips tilting toward his mouth.

He chuckled deep, “I could suck all this wet off you and it’ll just come right back, huh?”

Sanaa nodded. Licked her lips. Her voice was like silk, “Cuz you make my pussy so wet,” she whispered, “It’s crazy…”

Erik sucked again. Softer this time. Slower. The sound of it echoed in the room—wet, filthy, perfect.

“Ain’t gotta worry if this dick gon’ slide in,” he said against her clit, “You already know it is.”

“Mhm…” she breathed, hips rocking gentle now. Her hands gripped the sheets, fingers twitching.

He kissed her again. Licked again. Sucked again.

Real slow. Real patient.

He was edging her. Dragging her to the edge then pulling back. Letting her drip. Letting her cream. Letting her feel every bit of it until her thighs were shaking and her voice was catching in her throat.

He wasn’t in a rush. He was about to teach her what it really meant to be eaten.

Sanaa didn’t know how long he’d been eating her. It could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been forever. Time melted the second Erik laid his mouth on her pussy. And now she was shaking. Soft moans spilling from her lips like her breath couldn’t keep up. Her body was right there—right on the edge—but Erik refused to let her go over.

He kept switching it up.

One moment, he was sucking—slow, wet, focused right on the hood of her clit. Soft pulls that sent heat zipping down her thighs, into her spine. Then he’d pause. Lick along her folds like he was just tasting for fun, dragging his tongue flat from bottom to top, barely touching that swollen center. Then he’d pull back and let her feel that absence. That ache. That almost.

Sanaa was trembling.

Her thighs kept clenching. Her hips couldn’t stay still. Her clit was throbbing—tight and swollen and begging for pressure. But Erik wasn’t giving in.

She whimpered. Rolled her hips again. Tried to catch his mouth. He pulled back and looked up at her, lips glossy, beard wet. His locs brushed her thighs as he shook his head slightly, “Ain’t had it like this before,” he said, voice low, gravel thick in his throat, “Look at the way you feedin’ this pussy to me.”

Sanaa moaned again—long, high-pitched, helpless.

Erik’s voice dipped even deeper, teasing and demanding all at once, “Grab me by the hair and feed me then… since you wanna be so fuckin’ greedy.”

Sanaa’s hands dove into his hair like it was instinct. Both palms spread across his scalp, fingers gripping thick locs and pulling him into her pussy with a desperation she couldn’t hide. She tilted her hips just right, parting her thighs wider, shifting her center until her clit was perfectly seated against his mouth.

Erik groaned into her.

Then he licked. Not just a flick. Not a tease. He dragged his tongue up her slit in one long, firm stroke, then did it again—steady pressure, no breaks, no games. His hands grabbed her thighs and held them in place while he worked. Mouth open, tongue flattened, licking her from the inside out.

Sanaa gasped.

Then she started to ride.

Little movements at first. Hips lifting, rocking slow against the line of his tongue. Erik let her. He kept his mouth open, his tongue steady, letting her rub that clit wherever she needed.

And when she started grinding harder?

He slurped. Wet. Loud. Nasty. He wrapped his lips around her clit mid-grind and sucked—long and low and slow.

Sanaa cried out. Her back arched. Her thighs shook.

“Keep eating my pussy…” she whimpered, voice high and broken. Needy. Desperate. 

Erik sucked again, messier this time. His beard was soaked. His jaw flexed with every pull of her slick folds into his mouth.

Sanaa whimpered again. Then whispered, “Couldn’t wait for you to put those lips on me…”

Her voice was soft. Shaky. Full of that quiet ache that only came when a woman was losing control. Erik groaned against her. The vibration made her hips jerk. Made her legs try to close around his head.

He held her open. Firm. Kept licking. Kept sucking.Kept pulling those breathy moans right out of her chest like he was making music from her body. Sanaa’s head fell back. Her moans didn’t stop now. They were continuous. Light and airy, one after the next, like she couldn’t catch her breath between the waves.

Her toes curled. Her fingers twisted in his locs.

And then she felt it.

That creaming feeling.

It didn’t crash into her like an orgasm. It crept.

A slow roll of warmth that started deep inside and spread outward. Her pussy started leaking thicker. Wetter. The glide against his lips turned slippery and heavy. Her clit swelled even more, and the pressure built like a drumbeat in her lower belly. Her pussy fluttered. She felt herself cream.

Slow. Steady. Warm and thick, coating his mouth, his tongue, her own thighs.

She was still being edged. Still held on the brink. But her body didn’t care. It started giving him everything anyway.

Erik pulled back just an inch. Just enough to let the mess drip down. Then he looked up at her again, eyes half-lidded, full of heat, “You feel that?” he asked, licking his lips slow, “You creamin’ for me, greedy girl?”

Sanaa moaned so loud it turned into a broken whimper. She nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks from the intensity, “I need it…” she whispered. “Please.”

Erik’s lips curved into a slow, filthy smile. Then he lowered his mouth again, “Say less, lil’ mama.” 

Sanaa’s body was trembling.

She had one fist tangled in Erik’s locs, the other gripping the sheet beside her like her life depended on it. Her thighs wouldn’t stay still—kept flexing, twitching, trying to close around his head. But he had her. One thick arm slung across her lower stomach, holding her down. The other? He slid his fingers in. Slow. Two of them. Her pussy swallowed him easy, wetness dragging down his knuckles before he even got halfway. That first push had her moaning—soft and high, like it caught her off guard.

But then he curled them.

Just right.

His fingertips pressed deep against her front wall, slow, measured strokes that dragged across her most sensitive spot like he knew exactly where to touch. The angle. The pressure. The rhythm.

Sanaa choked on a moan. Her back arched. Her breath stuttered. Her thighs started shaking harder. Erik smirked against her skin. He licked her clit once. Then again. Then again.

And then sucked.

All while his fingers pumped—slow, deep, curling every time he pulled back, like he wanted to draw her orgasm out by hand. The sound between her legs was filthy.

Wet. Sloppy. Creamy.

Every stroke made that mess louder. Slick fingers gliding in and out, dragging her cream with them, strings of it clinging between his knuckles and her folds. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers like it was begging to be filled.

“Yeah,” Erik rasped, licking her clit again, “You hear that shit?”

Sanaa moaned—long and cracked, like her breath gave out halfway through.

“You fuckin’ creamy, baby,” he whispered against her, “Drippin all on my hand.”

He sucked her clit again—slower this time. Then he curled his fingers harder.

Sanaa yelped.

The sound shot out of her throat, then dissolved into a breathy moan. Her eyes rolled, mouth falling open, lips slick with spit. She was losing it. She tried to speak. Tried to say his name. But all that came out were broken little whimpers and gasps. She bit her lip hard. Tried to focus. But she couldn’t. Not when his fingers were stroking that spot like a rhythm, a pattern, a pressure designed to ruin her. Not when his mouth was glued to her clit, tongue flicking in circles, then flattening, then sucking her swollen bud while his fingers fucked her. Not when her pussy was making a mess all over his hand, his mouth, the bed beneath her.

She whimpered.

Erik chuckled, tongue teasing again, “Aww,” he cooed, “My baby can’t talk?”

Sanaa shook her head, tears in the corners of her eyes. He kept going. Fingers pumping, curling. Tongue licking.

Then his voice dropped into something darker, “Say you want it.”

She tried. Her lips moved. No sound.

Erik kissed her clit, then pressed deep with his fingers, “Uh uh…say it with your pussy then.”

Her body responded.

Hard.

She clenched so tight around his fingers it made his breath catch. Cream poured out around them, sticky and wet, dripping down her crack, smearing across his palm.

Erik groaned into her, “Shit, baby…this pussy talk better than your mouth.”

She squealed. Eyes crossing. Legs jerking. She was gone. Sanaa was right there. Right there. Her clit pulsed under his tongue. Her pussy clenched around his fingers like it was starving for release. Her legs wouldn’t stop shaking, her stomach was tight, her moans were high and strained, leaking out one after the next like she was breaking apart breath by breath.

And Erik knew it.

He felt it in the grip of her body. He felt it in the thick cream sliding down his hand, in the way her pussy clutched and fluttered, trying to force the nut out without permission. He pulled his mouth from her clit, let his breath run hot over it instead. His fingers didn’t stop moving—but they slowed. Deep curls now. Pressure. Precision. Just enough to make her lose her damn mind without pushing her over the edge.

“Open your mouth,” Erik said, voice low and sharp, “Tell me what you want.”

Sanaa whimpered. Eyes glossy, face twisted in agony. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She was shaking her head, trying to breathe, trying to speak—but her body was wrecked.

“You been wantin’ this, right?” he continued, fingers still stroking,  “Been rubbin that pretty pussy thinkin’ about this tongue? This dick?”

Her lip trembled. Tears welled up and slipped down the sides of her face.

Erik kissed her clit again. Once. Real soft. Then he growled, “Open that mouth and say it.”

Sanaa’s breath hitched. Her hips jerked. She grabbed the sheets with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, trying to hold back the sob bubbling in her throat. But it was too much. Too much heat. Too much pressure. Too much edging. Erik saw her body start to seize, felt her cunt tighten hard around his fingers.

He stopped. Froze. And gave her a warning.

“You push that nut out,” he said, deep and deliberate, “I’ma spank that ass.”

Sanaa whimpered again. A high-pitched sound full of pain and need. She clenched everything—legs, pussy, jaw—trying to fight it.

But she was desperate. So fucking close. She dropped her hand from her mouth and finally begged.

“Please,” she cried, voice cracking. “Please let me cum—please, Erik—Daddy—I need it—oh my God—I need it so bad—please don’t stop—please, I’ll be good—I’ll say whatever you want—just please…”

It came out all at once. Pathetic. Broken. Slurred through moans and sobs. Tears rolled down her cheeks now. Her mouth stayed open, shaking with every breath. She didn’t care how she sounded. She didn’t care how she looked.

She was begging for real.

Erik exhaled through his nose and leaned over her, voice low, close, thick with control, “Damn, mamas…” His fingers started moving again. Deeper. Slower. Curling right into that soft, soaked spot that had her clenching all over again, “I’m diggin in this pussy good, huh?”

Sanaa cried out—high and breathy. He slid back between her legs, kissed her clit softly while his fingers stroked slow and deep.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered, tongue flicking her clit just enough to make her back arch, “Keep your legs open. Let me give you what you want.”

Her legs parted wider. Her hips tilted up. Her breath caught. And then—

“Cum for me,” Erik said.

And her whole body snapped. Her back arched off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry. Pussy clenching so hard around his fingers it pushed cream out in waves. Her thighs trembled. Her clit pulsed beneath his tongue. Her moans were messy, unfiltered—one long stream of 

“ohmygodohmygodohmygod—Daddy—yes—fuck—yes—”

She came like her body couldn’t hold it anymore.

Hard. Deep. Shaking. Her cream coated his fingers. Her pussy pulsed around them, wetness gushing, soaking his palm, the sheets, her thighs. And Erik just kept licking. Slow. Gentle. While she fell apart beneath him.

It was still happening. She was still cumming. Still shaking. Still losing herself in wave after wave of heat, pressure, release. Sanaa curled in on herself without meaning to—knees drawn in, arms folding across her chest like she was trying to hold herself together. But her body betrayed her. Her thighs trembled. Her feet flexed, pointed, curled again. Her back arched slightly, then trembled as it fell. Her hands opened and closed against the sheets. Her lip was quivering, bitten raw, and her eyes were squeezed shut like she was trying to survive something—or remember it forever. Her moans had quieted. But her body was still screaming.

Erik didn’t say a word. He just looked at her.

Looked at the way her legs twitched every time her pussy fluttered. Looked at the way her nipples stayed peaked, trembling with the rise and fall of her breath. Looked at the tears streaking down her temples, the wild scatter of her silk press, her thighs still glossy with cream, her lips parted but speechless. She looked ruined. Pretty. Small. Shaken. Like she had just been unlocked from the inside and didn’t know how to settle back into herself. Her pussy still clenched around nothing—fluttering open and closed, still messy with his saliva and her wetness, folds gleaming and tender.

Erik sat back on his heels. Silent. Watching. Breathing steady. His dick was still hard. Thick and dark and curved up in his joggers like it was ready to take what his mouth had primed. But he didn’t move. Didn’t even touch himself. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see what it looked like when his baby girl broke. When all that wet and all that want came to the surface and shattered her. And he loved the way she tried to hide her face in the crook of her elbow.

He reached forward and gently pulled her arm down, “Let me see you.”

She opened her eyes slowly. Glassy. Glowing.

“Breathe,” he said.

She did. Barely. And Erik just watched her come back to earth. One breath at a time. He picked her up like she weighed nothing. All that thick softness trembling in his hands, limp and light now that her body had been emptied out. Erik sat down at the edge of the bed and brought her with him, settling her in his lap, straddling him. Her legs draped over his thighs. Her bare, glossy pussy rested right against the thick ridge of his dick still straining inside his joggers. Sanaa’s arms hung loose around his shoulders. Her head leaned forward. She was still dazed. Still trying to breathe. Her heart fluttered against his chest.

He kissed her. Soft, slow pecks to her lips. One. Another. Then another, right at the corner of her mouth. Big hands glided up and down her sides, from her waist to her thighs to her ass, grounding her. Stroking her like she was still coming down from a high—and she was. Her skin was warm, flushed. Her mouth slightly parted. Her lashes fluttered low like she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Catch your breath,” he said low, Another kiss, “Good girl…”

She inhaled like her lungs just started working again. Her eyes blinked open. Her mouth twitched into a hazy, breathy smile. Erik’s hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking softly under her cheek.

“Wasn’t prepared for that, huh?” he said with that slick, knowing tone, “I know it.”

Sanaa whimpered in response. A soft sound. Embarrassed. Wrecked. She shook her head just a little, but her body stayed slumped against his chest. Erik looked at her like he had every right to. Like she was his. Like he just unlocked something he knew nobody else had ever touched. He slid his thumb over her bottom lip and dragged it slow.

“What I tell you ‘bout all that tough talk?” he asked.

Sanaa didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Her eyes were still low. Lips swollen. Chest rising and falling slow. Erik tilted her chin up just enough to make her look at him.

“Hmm?”

She blinked. Then finally, her lips curled, “…I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ else.”

He chuckled, low and deep, “Yeah, aight.”

Then he kissed her again. But this one lingered—open mouth, warm tongue, his hand on the back of her head, holding her close. And when she moaned into his mouth, it was soft. Grateful. Weak. Like she was thanking him without saying a word. He could feel her heat. The wet between her legs pressed right up against him. Bare pussy soft and creamy on the thick print of his dick through those joggers, still hard, still untouched.

But Erik didn’t move. Didn’t thrust. Didn’t grind. He just held her in his lap and let her feel it. Let her sit right on it. One big hand cupped the back of her neck, thumb sliding slow along her nape. The other stroked down her spine, all the way to the small of her back. He kissed her again. Not wild. Not greedy. Just lips brushing hers, lazy pecks, like he had nowhere to be but here.

Sanaa let out the quietest sigh.

Her body was still trembling a little. Her muscles tender. She was too soft, too sensitive. Her clit still tingled. She didn’t know if she could take more, but she wanted it—wanted him. She wanted to feel the weight of him inside her. But he didn’t move. And now the ache was growing again. She shifted in his lap. Just a little. Just enough to feel that pressure tease her slit. That thick ridge nudging her folds through the fabric. It made her pulse deep in her core. Her lashes fluttered. Her arms tightened faintly around his shoulders.

Erik smirked, “You tryna get it started again?” His voice was smooth, rich. Teasing.

Sanaa shook her head once—but it was a lie. The kind of soft, guilty lie that showed all over her face. She glanced down, like she couldn’t meet his eyes. Her lip was caught between her teeth again. Her thighs squeezed just slightly around him, embarrassed. Because she was dripping. Again. Wet all over his clothes. The mess between her legs was so obvious. Sticky, warm. And he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

He stroked her waist with both hands now. Then leaned in, nose brushing hers, “You just came, pretty girl,” he whispered, his lips hovering, “Body still shakin’…pussy still twitchin’…”

Sanaa let out the smallest whimper.

He kissed the corner of her mouth again. His hands slid down to her hips. Held her there. Right above his dick. But didn’t let her grind. He just held her still.

“You want more, huh?”

She stayed quiet.

He tilted her head with his thumb under her chin.

“I said…you want more?”

Her eyes met his.

They were so soft. Glazed. Her lips parted. Her voice was the quietest it had ever been.

“…yes.”

Erik grinned. That smug, deep grin like she just gave him the world. But he still didn’t move.

“You sure?” he asked, leaning in slow, lips brushing her cheek, “You was talkin’ all that big girl shit earlier. Got real quiet now.”

Sanaa let her head fall forward to hide against his neck. She nodded against him, lips pressed to his skin.

“Say it then,” he said, voice dropping. “Say what you want.”

She shook her head again, giggling soft in that breathless, bashful way. Too embarrassed to say it out loud.

He gripped her ass tighter.

“Open that pretty mouth and ask for it, baby.”

She lifted her face. Looked him dead in the eye, still shy, “I want it,” she whispered, “I want you.”

Erik leaned in closer, lips grazing hers. His hands slid up her back, fingertips teasing her skin, “You want this dick, huh?” he rasped.

Sanaa nodded. But that wasn’t enough.

He pulled back just enough to see her mouth move, “I wanna hear you say it. Say it like a good girl.”

She swallowed. Her voice was like syrup now. Sweet, needy, “Please, Erik…I want your dick.”

He kissed her once. Deep. Then pulled back and whispered against her lips.

“Good girl.”

By the time Erik pushed her back onto the bed, Sanaa was already shaking.

Not from fear. From need.

From the way his hands handled her like he’d been starving and she was the first real meal he’d seen in years. He slid her down the mattress until her ass was right at the edge, thighs spread wide. Her pussy was open and slick, lips swollen and shining, already overstimulated from what he’d done to her minutes before.

She had already came once. Twice. Lost count. 

Hard.

Her body still buzzing from it. Legs weak. Core trembling. That aftershock warmth still rolling through her like heat trapped under skin.

And Erik wasn’t satisfied.

He dropped to his knees slow, deliberate, big body lowering between her legs like it belonged there. His hands grabbed her thighs, thick fingers digging in, scars catching the light as he spread her wider. He leaned in close, breath hot against her pussy, close enough that she could feel him smile without seeing it.

“Aww, this lil pussy still jumpin? You that fuckin needy, huh?” Voice low, lips wet, tongue already sliding again like he ain’t give a fuck about her being overstimulated, “I just made you nut, and you still twitchin like you ain’t had enough.”

His tongue flattened out and dragged up her slit, slow and heavy, from bottom to top, collecting everything she had to give. Sanaa cried out, hips jumping forward on instinct.

He caught her.

Strong hands pinned her thighs back, folding her open even more, holding her exactly where he wanted her. His mouth went right back to work, tongue circling her clit, slow at first, then tighter, firmer, like he was drawing patterns just to see how loud he could make her.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, fingers tangling in his locs.

He groaned into her pussy, the sound vibrating through her, making her thighs shake harder. He sucked her clit into his mouth, lips closing around it, tongue flicking fast now, mean and precise. Like he was mad at it. Like he was taking something out on her. 

“You thought I was gon’ let shit slide?” he said against her, voice muffled, nasty, “After you had me hard like that? After you teased me? Like I wasn’t gon’ get you?”

She tried to pull away, the sensation too much, her body begging for mercy even while her pussy clenched around nothing.

He followed her. Stayed right there.

Kept his mouth locked on her, tongue deep, lips slick, sucking and slurping like he was trying to drain her. His hands slid under her ass, lifting her just enough to keep her right where he wanted her, sliding her closer to the edge when she tried to scoot back.

“Nope,” he said, calm as hell,  “Where you goin?”

She sobbed, back arching, legs trembling in his grip. Her pussy throbbed, oversensitive, aching, begging for another release even though her body was still humming from the last one.

“I’m tryin’—I’m tryna take it, I swear I am…” she cried. 

“That’s fear talkin’. Pussy know better.” He tongued her like she owed him rent, “You started this. Now take what’s comin’.”

His tongue moved lower, dipping into her, licking her wet, greedy pussy like he was tasting her for the first time and the last time all at once. He ate her like he hadn’t had pussy in years, like he was trying to make up for lost time, mouth messy, sounds obscene, saliva mixing with her slick until everything was wet and loud.

Sanaa screamed.

Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling hard, but he didn’t budge. Didn’t flinch. Just tightened his grip on her thighs and kept going, scarred arms flexing as he held her open and helpless beneath his mouth.

“Still fuckin cryin. Still needy. That lil pussy talkin like she want another one. So I’ma give it to her.” he said, voice low and filthy. 

Her pussy clenched hard, body betraying her again, another wave building too fast, too strong.

“Please,” she whimpered, barely a word. “Please…”

He smiled against her.

“That’s it,” he said, “Say it like that.”

Then he went back in, tongue ruthless, mouth full of her, sucking, licking, slurping like he was trying to pull her soul through her pussy. Her legs locked around his shoulders as she came again, harder this time, body going tight then loose, a broken sound tearing out of her chest.

He dragged it once through her slick, deliberate, tasting her again like he wanted to remind her whose mouth this was. Sanaa gasped, a sharp sound tearing out of her chest as her hips lifted off the bed without permission.

Then he found her clit.

And that’s when she damn near lost her mind.

His tongue flicked over it precise. Not sloppy. Not rushed. Strong. Controlled. Each stroke intentional, like he knew exactly how much pressure to use to make her unravel. He hit it again. Same spot. Same rhythm. Then switched it up just enough to keep her from getting used to it.

“Ooh, fuuuuck,” she cried, voice cracking, eyes squeezing shut.

He groaned low, mouth never leaving her. His tongue moved with gusto now, fast flicks followed by slow, heavy presses. He circled her clit tight, then flattened his tongue over it and dragged it back and forth with purpose, like he was trying to rub the sound out of her. Her legs shook hard in his grip, muscles trembling like they were about to give out.

“Ain’t even fuckin yet and you breakin. You sure you built for this?”

He sucked her clit into his mouth for half a second, just enough to make her yelp, then went right back to flicking it, tongue snapping over that little bundle of nerves with strength that made her whole body jolt. Sanaa sobbed, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, chest heaving. “I can’t take it,” she whined, hips rocking desperately into his mouth.

He didn’t let her move. His scarred arms locked her in place, palms pressing her thighs back, holding her open like this was exactly where she belonged. Every time she tried to squirm away, he followed her without missing a beat, tongue staying right on her clit like it was magnetized.

“Nowhere to go,” he told her calmly, “You stay right here and feel this.”

His tongue worked her relentlessly. Flick. Flick. Slow press. Flick again. He switched the rhythm just when she thought she was about to explode, teasing her on purpose, keeping her right on the edge. The sensation was sharp and overwhelming, her clit pulsing under his mouth, begging for release even while it burned from how sensitive she was.

She cried openly now, soft broken sounds spilling out of her as her body shook beneath him. “Please,” she gasped. “Please, Erik.”

He groaned deep in his chest and went in harder, tongue moving faster, stronger, flicking her clit with deliberate strokes that made her vision blur. He licked her like he was angry at the time he’d gone without, like he was reclaiming something he’d already decided was his.

Her pussy clenched hard. Her back arched. Her cry turned loud as another orgasm ripped through her, body locking up, thighs shaking uncontrollably in his grip. Erik stayed right there, tongue still working her through it, not letting up until she was completely undone, sobbing and shaking at the edge of the bed.

She was still breathless.

Her whole body vibrating from the way he tore her up with that mouth. Sanaa had never been ate like that. Like he meant it. Like he was on a mission to take her apart and leave nothing behind but trembles and whimpers.

But it was what she saw next that really fucked her up.

Erik stood tall at the edge of the bed, his body carved like sin. Muscles tight. Scarred. Every inch of him looked like something designed to be feared and fucked. Deep ridges of healed wounds cut across his chest and abs, trailing down in chaotic beauty. His skin was rich—dark, smooth, gold-toned in places where the light caught him, that brown so pure it made her mouth water.

And then he slid those damn sweats down.

Sanaa sat up fast, breath catching in her throat.

That dick…It was stupid.

Thick and long, heavy, the kind of dick that made you stop and blink just to make sure your eyes weren’t lying. The base was wide, sitting on a smooth trim of dark curls—low cut, clean, just enough left to make it masculine. A faint scent of his skin, sweat, and that deep musk from his body hit her nose and made her clench all over again. The shaft was darker than the rest of him, with veins running up the sides, thick and raised, pulsing. He was hard. Rock hard. And the tip?

Sanaa damn near whimpered.

The head was plush, flushed deep burgundy, almost swollen from how hard he was. A thick drop of precum sat right at the tip, glistening, heavy, already threatening to spill down. That shit looked edible. Glossy. Beautiful. It curved just a little to the left, mean and perfect, the kind of dick you dreamed about but didn’t believe existed in real life. She was at eye level now. Kneeling on the bed, lips parted, dizzy from everything. Dizzy from the taste of herself still on her tongue. Dizzy from the fact that this dick—that dick—was hers now. 

Erik grinned down at her, lazy and cocky, his voice low, “Yeah?” he said, eyes locked on her, “You like this dick?”

Sanaa nodded, couldn’t even lie. Her mouth was already watering. He gripped the base with one hand and slapped the tip against his abs once, then let it drop—heavy—like the weight of it alone made the air shift.

“Bigger in person, huh?” he smirked.

Her thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

“You want it?” he asked, “Come talk to it. Put it where it belong.”

She crawled closer, hands shaking, one rising to touch the thick base of him, fingers wrapping around but not quite meeting. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted.

He tilted his head, “Open that pretty mouth.”

She obeyed. Tongue out. He tapped the tip against her tongue once. Precum smeared on her lips, salty and warm, and her eyes fluttered.

“Good girl,” he said low, “You ready to learn?”

She nodded again, whimpering now.

“I’ma teach you how I like it sucked,” he said. “Take your time on my shit, girl. Slow.”

She wrapped her lips around the head, careful. The warmth of him filled her mouth, the size of it pushing her jaw wide already. Her tongue circled the crown, teasing the slit where he was still leaking. She moaned, loved how he tasted—clean, masculine, deep. She sucked slow, hollowing her cheeks, eyes fluttering shut as she took more in.

He groaned above her. A deep, rumbling sound from his chest, “Yeah… just like that,” he whispered, “There you go, baby. Suck it slow. Feel all of it.”

She eased down further, struggling a little with the stretch, but her hand stroked the base where her mouth couldn’t reach. Her spit dripped down the shaft already. She pulled off, let the head pop free with a wet sound, then licked up the underside, tongue tracing that vein like she was memorizing it.

Erik’s hand came down, gripped her head firm, “You want me to fuck your throat?” he asked, breath ragged, “Slow?”

She whimpered, nodding fast.

“You take this whole dick, I’ma lose my mind, Bri. I swear.”

She opened wide again, let him guide her back down, slower this time. Her lips stretched, jaw aching in the best way. He let her take control for a moment, let her find her rhythm—messy, wet, devoted—before he rocked his hips once, just a little, and her moan vibrated around him.

“Damn,” he hissed, “You tryna make me nut already?”

She looked up at him, eyes glassy, spit dripping from her chin. His dick slid out, covered in it.

He slapped it against her tongue again, “Keep goin’,” he growled, “I’m not done teachin’ you yet.”

She was takin’ her time with it.

Lips wrapped slow around the thick head of his dick, tongue moving like she was scared to miss a spot. Sanaa’s eyes fluttered open, big and glossy, locked right on his. She blinked up at him soft, all that pretty need showing in her face like she was trying to be good for him. Real good. Erik groaned low, hand resting heavy on her head, letting her work.

Her lips popped off with a soft wet sound, a string of spit following before she wiped it away with her fingertips. She was breathing hard now. Mouth shiny. Face flushed. Then, like she was remembering something—something nasty—she whispered.

“Wait…”

He raised a brow, watching her crawl back toward the edge of the bed where her phone sat. The movement alone had his dick twitching again. She was down on her knees, just smooth brown skin, thighs glistening, and that pretty little pussy still wet and shining from how he ate her. Tits swaying softly with every breath, nipples tight. Hair hanging over one shoulder. That body? That body looked criminal. Like he should be arrested for the way he was about to fuck her face. She grabbed the phone and crawled back, slow and deliberate, hips swaying just enough to drive him out his mind. When she reached him, she sat on her knees again, looking up at him like he was the only thing that mattered.

Her lip caught between her teeth. Her voice was sugar, “Can you record me?”

His head tilted, smile curling slow, eyes darker now, “You want me to put you on camera?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.

Sanaa gave a breathy little laugh, nervous and nasty at the same time. Her tongue slid across her top lip, catching the taste of him still there. She looked like a dream in heat. Like a dirty little angel.

“I like it,” she said, eyes still on his, “More so when I don’t notice but…yeah.” Her lashes fluttered. “Please?”

Erik chuckled low, thick fingers reaching for her phone, “You somethin else,” he muttered, unlocking the camera, switching it to video. His dick stood tall and heavy between them, wet with her spit, “Aight then, freak.”

She smiled. Bit her lip again. He hit record. And she sank right back down.

“Yeah…” Erik said, voice low behind the camera, steady. “That’s it. Go slow. Take your time on daddy’s dick.”

Sanaa did exactly that. Mouth open, tongue out, she let the head of his dick slide back in like it was routine. She moaned soft, slurping up the precum leaking heavy from the tip like it was honey made just for her.

“That’s my girl,” Erik praised, his voice rich, close, like velvet on the speakers. “There you go. Keep suckin just like that. Pretty lips stretched all over me.”

She bobbed her head, spit coating the shaft. Her hand stroked what she couldn’t swallow yet. She was tryin. Workin her jaw, cheeks hollowed, tongue swirling. The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and addictive.

“You look so damn good like this,” he said, angling the camera low to catch her face and the way she handled him, “Got my whole shit in your mouth like you ain’t just cry all over my tongue five minutes ago.”

She moaned around him. He caught it on film.

“Yeah, let ‘em hear how messy you get. That’s right. Let that spit fall. Don’t clean shit up.”

She pulled off slow, letting the head pop out with another loud, nasty sound. Her chin was wet, lips puffy. She looked straight at the camera and licked the tip once—soft, seductive. Then whispered, “This mine now, huh?”

Erik’s voice dropped, “Yours to suck, mine to own.”

“Keep goin’, Bri,” he growled, bringing the phone closer. “Show me how nasty you really are.”

And she did. Eyes up, lips wide, throat relaxing. She slid deeper this time, slow and skilled, sucking him like she wanted to stay there all night. Steady. Watching. Capturing every drip, every moan, every choke of spit sliding down her chin while she sucked him like her life depended on it. Erik had the phone angled just right. One hand holding the camera low, catching the sloppy view of her full lips wrapped around that fat dick, the other dragging slow through her silk press. Fingers gliding through the sleek strands like he owned every inch of her—because right now, he did. She was on her knees between his thighs, head bobbing, spit dripping from her mouth, tears clinging to her lashes, that back arched, lifting that ass high off the bed. Sanaa was deep in it. Gagging sweet, eyes watery but focused, trying to take him slow like he asked. Hair swaying with the motion of her head bobbing. Gold hoops swinging pretty. Her hand stroked what her throat couldn’t swallow yet, and she moaned real soft around him when his thumb grazed her jaw.

“Yeah…” Erik said low, voice thick with that gritty Oakland bass. “That’s how you fuckin’ eat it, nasty girl.”

She whimpered around the shaft, tongue flexing as she sucked deeper, the stretch of it making her jaw ache. And he felt all of it.

“That pressure good, huh?” he asked, tilting the camera down more, “You like suckin this big-ass dick.”

She pulled back, gasping, chin glossy. Then went right back down on it without hesitation, slower this time, more focused.

His voice dropped another octave, “Don’t run, baby. Take all that shit. I want it nice and wet—make that shit glisten for me.” His thumb swiped her cheek, then tapped her jaw, “Look in the camera,” he said calmly, “Show everybody how you behave when this dick come out.”

She peeked up with those big, glossy doe eyes, lashes wet, pupils blown. And he grinned—that slow, evil grin that meant trouble.

“Good girl,” he said, breath thick, “That’s what the fuck I’m talkin about. Pretty lil’ slut just made for head.”

She moaned again and he caught it all. The sound, the suck, the spit. His hand stayed in her hair, palm warm against her scalp, holding her in place. He wasn’t forcing shit. He didn’t need to. She wanted this. Needed it. She was putting in real work, tongue swirling, throat flexing, mouth loud and messy.

“Keep suckin, baby. You doin good. Real good.”

He licked his lips. “Make love to that dick. I want it slow.”

She pulled off with a pop, lips red and glistening, panting through her nose.

And that’s when he hit her with it.

“Who dick you suckin’ on, slut?”

Sanaa blinked slow, pupils glassy, spit still clinging to her lips. She bit her bottom one, smiling like she wasn’t two seconds from choking on him.

Then whispered, “Killmonger’s big dick.”

Erik groaned low. Damn near laughed through it, “Aww, shit. That’s right.” He palmed the back of her head, guiding her back toward the tip, his voice deep and filthy, “Now shut up and show that camera how you love daddy’s dick.”

Erik’s palm slid to the back of her head, heavy and sure.

Not rough. Not rushed.

Commanding.

“Keep still,” he said, voice low, calm, that Oakland grit threaded through every syllable, “Let me do the work.”

Sanaa whimpered around him, lips already stretched, jaw aching sweet as he guided her down slow. His dick filled her mouth inch by inch, thick and warm, veins pressing against her tongue. She gagged softly when he pushed a little deeper, breath catching, eyes squeezing shut.

“Nah,” he said quietly, watching her, “Eyes open.”

She forced them open, tears clinging to her lashes, staring up at him while he eased his hips forward again. Slow thrust. Controlled. Deliberate. He wasn’t chasing nothing. He was taking. Her hands lifted on instinct, fingers twitching toward his thighs.

He caught it immediately, “Hands in your lap,” he ordered. “Don’t touch shit.”

Her hands dropped, trembling, palms pressing into her thighs like she was trying to ground herself. That made his chest tighten. Made his jaw clench.

“Good,” he said. “That’s better.”

He rocked his hips again, shallow thrusts at first, letting her mouth adjust, letting her tongue learn the shape of him while he stayed right at the back of her throat. She gagged again, wet and broken, spit spilling down the corners of her mouth and onto her chin.

“That’s it,” he said, eyes dark, watching her struggle in the prettiest way, “Take it. Don’t fight it.” His breathing changed. Deepened. Chest rising slower but heavier now. He rolled his hips back and then forward again, just enough to make her choke, just enough to make her moan around him, “Look at that,” he said, tone slick, satisfied. “On your knees like this. Mouth full. Can’t even grab on for help.”

He pulled out slowly, the length of him sliding past her lips inch by inch until the head popped free with a wet sound. He didn’t give her a second to recover.

He slapped his dick against her lips once.

Twice.

The head smacked wet and loud against her mouth, leaving her lips glossy, swollen, stained with spit and precum.

“Open,” he said.

She did.

He tapped it against her tongue, smearing that slick heat across her mouth while she breathed hard through her nose.

“Yeah,” he continued, voice thick now, “This what you wanted. Got you on your knees suckin daddy dick?” His eyes dropped to where his scars cut across his chest and stomach, down to the way his dick rested heavy between them. He watched the contrast like it did something to him. Taut muscle. Old wounds. Thick, leaking dick. Her mouth waiting, “Pretty as hell like this,” he said, jaw flexing, “All quiet. All obedient.”

He slid back in, deeper this time. Slower. His palm stayed firm on her head, fingers spreading through her hair, keeping her right where he wanted her while he fucked her mouth with controlled strokes. Each thrust was measured. Each pullback intentional. He wasn’t losing control. He was enjoying it. She gagged hard this time, throat flexing around him, eyes watering bad. A broken sound came out of her chest and he felt it wrap around him.

“Shh,” he said softly. “Breathe through it. You doin good.” His hips kept moving, shallow to deep, slow to slower, the kind of pace that made her body melt even while it overwhelmed her. Spit ran freely now, coating him, dripping down onto her shirt, “Damn,” he breathed, biting his lip, “You feel that? That’s your mouth workin exactly how I like.” He pulled out again, slapped his dick against her lips once more, then let it rest there, heavy and slick, “Stay right there,” he said, thumb brushing her bottom lip. “You ain’t done yet.”

Erik pulled back just enough to look at her.

Really look.

Her mouth was wrecked. Lips swollen and shiny. Chin slick. Eyes glassy and obedient, breathing heavy through her nose like she’d been holding herself together on willpower alone. He liked that look on her. Liked that he put it there.

“Stick your tongue out,” he said.

Not loud. Not rushed. Calm like he knew she’d listen.

Sanaa did it immediately. Tongue extended, trembling just a little, glossy with spit. Pretty. Pink. Waiting.

He slapped his dick against it.

Once.

The weight of it made her gasp. The head pressed flat against her tongue, warm and leaking, precum smearing across it. He did it again. Slower this time. Let it rest there for a second so she could feel how heavy he was. How real.

“Yeah,” he said low. “Just like that.” He slapped it again, firmer, the sound wet and obscene, watching her tongue flatten under the weight of him, “Open wider.”

She did. Jaw dropping, tongue still out, eyes flicking up to his face like she wanted approval. His hand slid to the back of her neck. Fingers spread. Grip solid.

“Now show me,” he said, “Show me you want my nut.”

He guided her forward and she took him back in, lips closing around the head, tongue working immediately, slow and focused just like he told her. She sucked like she had something to prove. Drew him in inch by inch, throat relaxing, mouth warm and slick, spit coating him thick.

Erik groaned. Not a word. A sound. Low. From his chest. Like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.

“That’s it,” he said, breath heavier now. “Yeah. Fuck. Just like that.”

He started moving his hips. Slow at first. Shallow thrusts, letting her mouth adjust to the rhythm. His hand stayed firm on her neck, guiding, controlling the pace. She moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight through his body.

“Mm,” he sounded, eyes narrowing, “You feel how you pullin it outta me?”

She did. She knew.

Her mouth got sloppier. Wetter. She pulled back just enough to drag her tongue along the underside, then swallowed him again, deeper this time. Her throat flexed around him and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Fuck,” he said, hips stuttering for half a second before he steadied himself, “You doin that on purpose.”

She was. She bobbed slow, steady, eyes locked on him, hands still obedient in her lap. She let him thrust now, matching his movement, letting him slide in and out of her mouth while she kept her tongue working the head every time he pushed back in. His breathing got rougher. Chest rising faster. His free hand clenched at his side, fingers flexing like he was holding himself back from grabbing her hair harder.

“Yeah…that’s it,” he said, voice thick, strained now. “You draggin that shit outta me.”

She moaned again, tears slipping free now, not from pain but from how full her mouth felt. How deep he was. How badly she wanted to finish him.

“Keep suckin, slut. You look real cute when you don’t think—just choke.” He grinned down at her, “That’s all you good for right now.” He thrust a little deeper, a little slower, savoring it. The sounds she made were obscene. Wet. Desperate. Perfect, “That’s my nut you workin for,” he said quietly, “Don’t rush. I wanna feel every second.”

And the way his hips kept moving, the way his voice shook just a little now, told her she was doing exactly what he wanted. The kind that made his thighs tighten and his voice start slipping into that ragged, desperate edge even he couldn’t hide. His grip stayed locked at the back of her neck, not pushing, just holding—anchoring himself in the wet heat of her mouth while she kept sucking like she needed it. Slow strokes. Controlled thrusts. But his body was rolling now. Sanaa had her tongue working that underside with purpose, lips locked tight, cheeks hollowed every time he pulled back. And when he slid back in, deeper, letting her throat hug the head, her moan vibrated so deep around him it made his stomach jump. Erik’s eyes fluttered. He bit down on his bottom lip hard. Head tipped back. Shoulders flexing. His whole body rippled, abs twitching under the tight strain of control he was seconds from losing.

“Fuck…stay right there. Don’t move. Don’t fuckin play wit’ me now.” His voice hit her like weight, low and feral.

She didn’t. Wouldn’t.

Her pace stayed nasty and obedient. Sloppy and sweet. And when his knees started to tremble, she knew it. Felt it. That thick dick was swelling even more in her mouth, leaking like crazy now—salty and heavy on her tongue.

“Fuckin’ mouth feel too damn good…” he choked out, hips stuttering, voice low and wrecked.

He looked down at her, head still back, eyes wild. Sweat beading at his temples. Veins thick in his arms.

Then he groaned.

Loud. Raw.

“Shit—Bri…” And with a slow thrust, balls snug to her chin, he lost it. “Empty my fuckin balls…” he gritted through clenched teeth, breath snatching, “Empty my balls, slut…suck it outta me.” His hips rocked into her mouth, slow but deep, dick  jerking on her tongue with each pulse of release. Cum spilled thick, hot, flooding the back of her throat. She moaned around him, not pulling back, not flinching—swallowed every drop, “Take it,” Erik groaned, voice shaking. “Take all that shit…yeah…”

His hand held her there, not to force her but to feel it—feel her throat working while she drained him. She stayed there while he spilled. Stayed there while his thighs flexed, chest heaved, abs clenched with every twitch of pleasure rolling through him. Only when he finally pulled out, slow and spent, did he look down fully and let his eyes take her in.

Face wet. Mouth open. Breathing hard. She licked her lips. And he grinned. Still high off the nut. Still watching her like she was a dream with a mouth built for destruction.

“Damn,” he panted, voice rough, “You really mine now.”

The room smelled like sweat, skin, and lust. Warm light poured in from the hallway but didn’t dare interrupt what was happening here. Erik was already on top of her. Big. Heavy. Muscles bulging. Veins flexed in his arms as he pinned his fists to the mattress and hovered above her. Locs hanging down, shadowing his sharp-ass jaw, that gold in his mouth catching a glint when he licked across his bottom lip.

Sanaa was already open before he ever put it in her.

That was the part that shook her the most.

She lay back on the bed, silk-pressed hair spread smooth beneath her head, gold hoops warm against her neck, chest rising fast. Her skin glowed. Brown. Soft. That deep, rich tone that caught the light like polished wood. Her pussy was slick enough to feel the air hit it when her thighs parted. Wet enough to shine. Tight enough to throb. Erik kneeled between her legs, towering, solid, body made to fold bitches up. Scars ridged over his chest and arms, catching the light as he flexed. His locs brushed his shoulders. Gold canines flashed when he smirked, slow and dangerous. That big, thick dick sat heavy in his hand, already hard, already leaking just a little. Veins thick along the shaft. Heavy head. Fat. He dragged the head of it through her slick, slow. Let it slide between her lips without pushing in. Just enough to make her breath hitch.

“Mm,” he said low, “That pussy talkin’.”

Sanaa whimpered, hips lifting without permission. She reached down, fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow like she needed something to hold onto. Her toes curled, thighs trembling.

“Hold your ankles,” Erik told her.

She did it instantly. Hands slid down her legs. Ankles in her grip. Wide open. Exposed. Vulnerable and ready. Her mouth fell open as she breathed, chest heaving.

They locked eyes.

Erik leaned forward just a little, dick still rubbing through her slick. He tapped her pussy with it once. Twice. A wet, teasing slap that made her gasp. Kissed her lips sloppy like he was sucking the breath out of her.

“You ready to get fucked?” he asked, voice calm but heavy with promise.

Her fingers circled her clit faster,  “Yeah,” she breathed, “Yeah.”

“I’m ready to fuck you, I know that,” he said, rubbing the head of his dick right at her entrance, letting it press there without going in, “Tired of playin’. ‘Bout to dig you out, girl. Give you what you always wanted.”

Her whole body buzzed. Like static. Like she was plugged into something too strong. Her pussy clenched around nothing, slick dripping down, soaking the sheets beneath her. Erik angled his hips, lined himself up, and pushed the head in just a little.

Just enough.

Sanaa’s eyes rolled. A broken sound fell from her lips. Her toes curled so hard they damn near cramped.

“Shh,” he said, watching her face closely, “Breathe. Let that pussy relax. You want it. I feel you.”

He pushed again. Slow. Inch by inch. That fat head stretching her open, slow and deep, her tight walls gripping him like. She was holdin’ that dick like it owed her somethin She gasped, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, staring straight at him.

“Oh my—” Her voice cracked into a moan.

“That’s it,” Erik said, jaw tight, teeth flashing as he watched her swallow him, “That’s how you take a big dick. Slow. Let it open you.”

Her fingers rubbed her clit harder now, breath shaky, little sounds slipping out of her with every inch he sank in. Her pussy was tight. Tight as hell. Hot. Wet. Pulling him in like it needed him.

“Damn,” he groaned, “You tight as fuck. Grippin’ me like you been waitin’ your whole life.”

He paused halfway in. Just sat there. Let her feel it. Let her body adjust around him. Let her pussy throb and flutter and leak. Sanaa was shaking. Legs still wide. Ankles in the air. Eyes locked on his like she didn’t wanna miss a second of this. Her lips parted. Chest heaving. Sweat starting to gather at her temples.

“Move,” she breathed, barely louder than air.

Erik tilted his head, smirk deepening, “Nah. Sit wit’ it. Feel that stretch. Feel what you been askin’ for.”

He rolled his hips just a little. Enough to make her gasp again. Enough to make her pussy clamp down.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, toes curling again. “It’s so big.”

“Yeah,” he said, finally pushing deeper. Slow. Controlled. Taking his time sinking all the way in until his hips met her thighs. Until she was full. Stuffed. Opened up around him, “That’s daddy dick,” he said quietly, “Ain’t rushin’. Ain’t slippin’ out. Just sittin’ where it belong.”

She cried out then. A real sound. Raw. Her body arched, fingers still working her clit as her pussy clenched hard around him, creamy and dripping.

Erik stayed still, buried deep, watching her face twist with pleasure and shock and need, “Now,” he said, voice low and steady, “Now I’ma fuck you.”

The first stroke took her breath. Not fast. Not rough. Just deep. Erik dragged out of her slow, dick thick and heavy, every ridge of his shaft pulling against her walls like he was scraping the memory of anybody else out. Her pussy clung to him, creamy and tight, pulsing around that slow exit like it. That pussy kept catchin’ his dick on the way out, holdin’ him right at the base.Sanaa’s mouth fell open, lips parted in shock. Her hips tried to lift with him, like her body was chasing what was leaving. He stopped right at the tip. Let it rest there. Slick and twitching.

Then he slid it back in.

One long, smooth push. Deep. Full. Her pussy stretched again, swallowed him whole. That grip got tighter every time he pulled out, like her pussy was beggin’ to stay full. A messy whimper slipped from her throat, back arching, legs trembling as she held her ankles just like he told her to.

“Right there?” he said, voice deep and calm like a threat, “Here?” He pulled back again. Slow. Let her feel the drag. That stretch. That pressure. All that thickness working her from the inside out. Then pushed back in. Another slow grind. Deep. Deep, “How you like it?”

Sanaa’s answer was a cry—broken and high, her voice cracked open from the inside. Her hands barely held onto her legs now. Ankles shaking in her grip. Titties bouncing soft under the rhythm he set.

“You feel all that?” he said, lips barely moving, eyes locked on her face, “Feel how I’m fuckin’ this lil’ pussy?” He moved again. Same speed. Same power. That controlled thrust that kissed her spot and punched a gasp out her lungs at the same time. Her eyes rolled. Sweat broke out across her chest. Her thighs quivered, “Say it,” he growled, hips rocking, “Say what you need. Talk to me.”

Sanaa was breathless, voice caught in her throat, fingers slipping from her thighs just long enough for Erik to grip the backs of her knees and press them toward her chest, folding her even deeper. Pussy opened up wider. Gripped tighter.

“Push it in,” she whispered, eyes glossy, “Please—”

Erik laughed. Low. Nasty.

He pulled back again. Dick dragging slow, thick veins rubbing all along her walls. Cream shining on him when he looked down. Then he rocked back in deep, pelvis kissing hers, thighs clapping soft.

“That what you want? Want this dick pushin’ up in you? Stretchin’ this tight lil’ thing out?”

She nodded fast, mouth open, whining now. Body shaking under him.

“Want this dick slidin’ up in you? Stuffin’ this tight lil’ pussy full?”

Sanaa’s back arched, head tipped back, mouth open. “Nnngh—f-fuck…”

She moaned loud, fingers clawing at his back, trying to grind, but he pinned her with his weight.

“Stop movin’. That’s mine now. You feel that pulse in your stomach? That’s your pussy holdin’ me in. I can feel it… beatin’ on this dick.”

She bit her lip, head rolling, helpless.

He bent down just enough for his chest to brush her tits, still rolling his hips, smooth and deep, “Yeah, you like that,” he said into her ear, “You been actin’ like you ain’t ready, like I’m too much…but this pussy takin’ it. All of it. She know who she belong to.”

He straightened up again, gold shining in his mouth as he licked his lips. He was breathing harder now, sweat sliding down the middle of his chest, scars flexing across his arms. Still in control. Still feeding her slow, powerful strokes that rocked her whole body, that made the bed creak and her hands claw at the sheets.

“You makin’ a mess,” he grunted, “Drippin’ all on me. Fuckin’ cream just pourin’.”

Sanaa could barely speak. Her face said everything. Eyes low, mouth open, a whimper riding each stroke. Her body was begging. Pussy wetter, messier. Squeezing tighter every time he pulled back.

“You gon’ cum like this?” Erik said, voice dark, “I can feel it. She twitchin’. That creamy lil’ explosion waitin’ for me.” Another thrust. Then another. Each one dragging her closer, “You ready?” he whispered, “Ready to let that pretty pussy bust all over me?”

And the way her body shook said yes before she could even speak it.

Sanaa let out a broken sound, halfway between a whine and a moan, fingers twitching uselessly in the air. Her clit throbbed. Her pussy fluttered hard around him like it was begging to be let loose.

Erik reached down and took her ankles again, firm hands wrapping around them. He lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders, one smooth motion. Her small feet dangled against his broad back, toes curling as he leaned forward and tilted her hips just right.

That angle hit different.

So deep it made her gasp sharp, eyes flying open.

“Fuck,” she breathed, staring down between their bodies, watching his dick disappear into her. Watching her own slick stretch around him. Cream shining. Messy. Open.

Erik started moving again.

Not wild. Not sloppy. Just a quicker pace. Steady. Relentless. Each thrust deep and sure, dragging through her slow on the pull back, then pressing right back in where she needed it most.

“There,” he said, voice low and steady. “Right there. You feel that shit?”

Her answer was a soft cry, lip caught between her teeth as she nodded, eyes locked on where he was fucking her. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t believe how full she looked. How much of him was inside her. How her body took it.

“I know you feel it,” he went on, breath heavier now, “This dick sittin’ all up in you. Spread open. Got you laid out lookin’ real fuckin’ good.”

The bed creaked under the rhythm of his hips. The wet sound between them got louder. Slicker. Every thrust pushing air out her lungs. Her titties bounced with the motion, nipples tight and aching. Sweat rolled down her chest and between them. Sanaa’s hands fisted in the sheets. Her stomach tightened. Her toes curled again, feet flexing against his shoulders.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, voice shaking. “Oh my—”

“That pressure hittin’ you right?” Erik asked, thrusting again, a little harder now, “Got you starin’ down at it like you can’t believe what it doin’ to you.” He leaned in closer, chest hovering over her legs, dick still sliding deep and slow-fast, that perfect in-between pace that made her whole body buzz, “Pussy just openin’ up for me,” he said, “Squeezin’ when I pull back. Clutchin’ when I push in. You feel how deep that shit go?”

She whimpered, eyes glossy, jaw slack. Her body rocked with every stroke, ass lifting just a little off the bed when he sank all the way in.

“I see you,” he said, “I see that look on your face. That ‘I ain’t never felt no shit like this’ look.”

Her lip trembled as she bit it again, trying not to make too much noise, failing every time he hit that spot that made her pussy jump.

“You not cumming yet,” Erik told her, voice like gravel soaked in heat. “I’m holdin’ you right here. Letting this dick sit. Letting you feel what it mean to get fucked for real.”

He kept that pace. Deep. Measured. Consistent. Filling her over and over until her thoughts blurred and all she could focus on was the way he felt inside her. Sanaa stared down at their bodies moving together, chest rising fast, eyes wide with disbelief.

She had never imagined it would feel like this.

And Erik could tell.

He smiled slow as he fucked her, knowing exactly what he was doing to her.

He felt it change in her.

That moment when her body stopped fighting the feeling and started chasing it. Erik pulled out slow just enough to make her gasp, then hooked an arm under her thighs and dragged her closer to the edge of the bed. The mattress creaked as he stood tall between her legs, feet planted wide. One big hand came up to cradle the back of her neck, fingers spread, firm but steady, keeping her bent just right.

Her head tipped forward. Chin slightly tucked. Chest lifted. Legs wide open and shaking.

“Stay right here,” he told her quietly.

Then he pushed back in. Harder this time. All hips. All intention.

He fucked her standing up, deep strokes snapping into her with purpose. Every thrust dug into her pussy like he was carving his name in it. The sound changed immediately. Wet. Heavy. Nasty. Her ass slid just a little on the sheets with every drive of his hips. The bed thumped softly against the wall. Her breath came out in sharp, broken moans she didn’t even try to hold back. Erik leaned forward, hand still at her neck, thumb pressing just enough to keep her right where he wanted her. His other hand grabbed her thigh, spreading her wider, giving himself more room to work her.

“This how you get fucked,” he said low, voice tight now, “Ain’t none of that playin’ shit no more.”

Her body responded instantly. Pussy gripping him harder. Cream slicking up his shaft, making each thrust glide smoother, deeper. He could feel how tight she still was even after taking him. How every stroke made her clench. Sanaa dragged a hand down his chest, fingers splayed over raised scars, nails dragging slow across his abs like she needed something solid to hold onto. Her brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as sound after sound spilled out of her. No words now. Just moans. Real ones. Loud and shameless.

Her toes curled. Thighs shook. Her head pressed back into his hand as her whole body rocked with his rhythm.

Erik watched her fall apart.

Watched the way her lips parted. The way her chest rose and fell fast. The way her pussy sucked him in every time he pulled back and begged him back when he pushed in.

“I know,” he said, eyes locked on hers, pace picking up, “I know what this dick doin’. I know I’m stretchin’ you deep. Breakin’ you in right. I know baby girl.” 

She moaned louder, hand sliding down his stomach, gripping his hips now, nails biting into his skin as her body tried to meet every thrust.

“Yeah?” he groaned, “I know. I feel you squeezin’ me. Tryna pull me deeper.”

He fucked her good. No rush. No wasted movement. Just deep, clean strokes that made her body jolt and her pussy throb around him. Sweat dripped down his chest, spotted her skin. His breathing got heavier, chest flexing with every thrust.

Sanaa couldn’t think.

Couldn’t compare this to anything she’d ever had because nothing came close. This wasn’t just sex. This was control. Weight. Pressure. The kind of dick that made your legs weak and your mind go quiet. Her moans filled the room now. Pretty and broken. Her body answering him before her thoughts ever could.

“You ain’t used to this,” he said, “That’s why you actin’ out. Why you so fuckin’ loud right now. This dick hittin’ different, huh?”

Her mouth trembled beneath his grip. She tried to moan but it came out shaky, broken—just a mess of sound, face twisting as her pussy pulsed again, creamy and loud between them. Wet. So wet. Erik pulled back just an inch, then slid right back in slow—deep. Her body jolted. She clawed at his abs, nails dragging across scarred skin, searching for something to hold on to.

“I said look at me,” he growled, giving her jaw a squeeze, “You takin’ it so good. But you gon’ remember this stroke.” He rolled his hips again. Slow grind. All of him inside. Her moans hitched. “Yeah,” he whispered, kissing the side of her mouth, still fucking her slow and deep, “That’s it. Let me see what a good girl sound like when she get ruined.”

And she did. All moans now. Loud, messy, undone. Pussy soaked. Face caught somewhere between disbelief and addiction. She didn’t even know how to ask him to stop—because she didn’t want him to.

“Uh uh,” he said low, hips rolling again, pulling out slow just to sink back in, “Ain’t no escape in this room. Just me givin’ you some shit you don’t know how to handle yet.”

Sanaa’s head was tipped back, mouth open, eyes unfocused. She couldn’t even make words—just breathy gasps, little “uhh—uhh—ohh” sounds, tears caught in the corners of her eyes. That dick was fat. And it felt like it reached every inch inside her. Like he was claiming shit. Bruising pleasure into her walls. He dropped one fist and palmed her throat, not squeezing, just holdin’ it while he fucked her slower, deeper. His thumb under her chin to make her look at him.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head like she was pathetic for what she’d become under him, “Pretty lil’ thing. Can’t even talk. Can’t even move. All that mouth you had… now I’m in it, huh? In that sweet, warm, squeezin’ ass pussy?” He leaned in, lips brushing her cheek as he fucked her slow, but hard. Real strokes. Deep dips. His abs flexed. That sweat from his chest dripped onto her titties, slid down between them, “Gon’ make a mess all over me,” he whispered against her ear, “I feel that pussy twitchin’. You ‘bout to squirt? Cream? Gimme that shit then. Let it go. Gimme all that sweet lil’ mess.”

Sanaa tried to hold it, tried to breathe, but her body had other plans. Her pussy clenched up on him, hard. That creamy wet exploded like a rush. Her whole body shook. Back arched. Toes curled. She screamed loud. A long, dragged out moan that had her damn near crying, “Daaaaddy—”

“That’s it,” he groaned, biting his bottom lip hard as her cream gushed around him. “There she go. So fuckin’ messy. That’s mine. All that shit belong to me.”

He didn’t stop. Kept stroking. Controlled. Deep. Purposeful. Watching the way her body seized up with every thrust. The way her face crumbled, lips parted, eyes crossed just a little. She was spent. Fucked dumb. But he wasn’t done.

She had been asking for it. The teasing. The walking past him in them little ass shorts with no bra. The smart-ass grin, the way she bent over slow like she ain’t know he was behind her. Like he wasn’t built to catch that shit. Built to correct it.

Now she was where she needed to be.

Bent at the edge of the bed, back dipped low in a deep arch, slim thick body laid out perfect. Espresso brown skin already kissed up with sweat, glowing under the low lamp light. Long silk press damp and clinging to her spine, gold hoops swinging every time she breathed too hard. Her hands gripped the sheets in front of her like she was bracing for impact, thighs twitching already from anticipation. She wasn’t saying much now. Just soft little whimpers, little gasps, trying to hold still while Erik stood behind her, letting that heavy dick drag over her soaked lips like a warning.

He was tall, solid, strong in a way that made everything feel smaller around him. That skin of his golden brown, gleamed with sweat across scarred shoulders and cut arms, every muscle flexing in slow control. His locs hung wild, swaying with each breath he took, some brushing against his cheek as he rolled his hips forward just enough to tease her slit. His jaw was locked. Dimples barely showing under the shadow of his beard, lips full and parted, watching her with heat in his eyes. That look he got when he was done playing.

The room was thick with it. That wet, nasty tension. The kind that made you sweat before the fuck even started. The sound of her breathing came in soft stutters, then caught sharp when he eased the tip of his dick in, slow, just enough to make her feel the width. That first little push pulled a moan straight out her chest—high-pitched, pretty, needy.

“Nnnnnhhh—”

Her thighs shook. Her hips twitched. He gripped them firm and kept her still.

His dick slid in deeper, inch by inch, slow and controlled. Thick, veined, heavy with heat. Her pussy welcomed it, parted soft and creamy, sucking him in greedy. The sound was nasty—wet, slick, obscene. Skin to skin contact filled the room in low slaps as he sank into that tightness. She gasped loud when he bottomed out, pussy clenching, juice spilling out and down his dick, running slick down to his balls.

“Ahhh—fuck—”

Her back dipped harder, ass bouncing from the force, body trembling as he held still, buried deep. Letting her feel the weight. Letting her feel how deep it went. The pressure in her belly was immediate, hot and thick like she’d been split open from the inside. She whined again, softer this time, body trying to pull back but his grip stayed firm. Erik leaned over her, chest hovering over her back, heat rolling off his body. Sweat dripped from his skin to hers, mixing where their bodies touched. His lips brushed her shoulder as he sucked a slow breath through his nose. His locs swayed forward, brushing her neck. She could hear his breath now—heavy, steady, that deep male grunt rising in his chest as he pulled back halfway and pushed in again, slow but harder. Purposeful.

“Unhhh—”

Her moan cracked open in her throat as he started moving. Deep strokes. Slow drag out, then all the way back in, hips snapping against her ass with a sharp clap. The bounce of her cheeks echoed through the room, flesh meeting flesh, wetness coating everything. Her pussy clenched again—tight, messy, too responsive—and that just made him go harder.

She cried out again, hands bunching the sheets, gasping loud as her body rocked forward with every thrust.

“Ahhh—ahh—nnnnn—”

Erik’s hand slid from her hip to the front of her throat. Not choking. Just holding. Making her feel how deep he was, how controlled he was, how owned she was. He bent his head, kissed her jaw, bit it slow, sucked on her skin until she shivered and clenched even tighter around him. His other hand slid up, grabbed a handful of titty, squeezing her soft brown flesh, palm wet with sweat and cream.

Then he popped her ass—sharp, loud.

She squealed, whole body jumping as he slammed into her deeper. The pressure started building before she even realized he was changing pace. His thrusts stayed deep, thick strokes dragging through all that creamy wet, but there was something in the way he paused—right there, buried inside her. Like he was deciding how bad he was about to break her down.

Then his voice cut through the slick sound of skin and sex, “Sit up.”

Just like that. Blunt. Firm. No softness in it. That deep, calm tone that left no room for hesitation. Sanaa’s breath caught in her throat, and she pushed up slow on shaky arms, her back still arched, ass still high. Her long hair stuck to her shoulder and chest now, damp from sweat, sticking to the curve of her breasts. She tried to breathe, but that dick was still buried so deep, all she could do was pant.

“Sit…up,” he repeated, voice tighter now, hand gripping her hip, “Arch that back. Stay just like that.”

She obeyed, gasping when he rolled his hips again, slow at first, the weight of him grinding right into her from behind. She whimpered when his hand slid up her back, gripped the nape of her neck.

Then came the next command, low and rough behind her, “Look back at me.”

She turned her head, eyes fluttering open through the haze, lips trembling as she looked over her shoulder. And there he was. Erik. Sweaty, scarred-up motherfucker with that big dick sitting inside her.. His locs swung loose around his face, clinging to the thick muscle of his shoulders. Sweat ran in slow trails down his chest, catching the shine in the light. His lips were parted, that sharp jaw clenched tight. And his eyes—locked on hers, low and dangerous. Sanaa whimpered, her face twisting as another slow, hard stroke made her body jolt forward. That dick dragged against her walls so deep and thick it felt like it was curving inside her, making her pussy clench down again, hard. She couldn’t hold it.

“Mmmf—ahh—fuck… Erik…”

He smirked, then popped her ass again—sharper this time. The clap echoed through the room, “Don’t run now, lil’ slut. You wanted this, right?”

And then he started fucking her for real.

Hips snapping forward with purpose, Erik drove into her with hard, grinding thrusts, dick drilling through wet, creamy heat like it owned her insides. The sound was filthy—wet slaps, heavy balls smacking against her clit, the sharp clap of flesh to flesh every time her cheeks bounced back on him. Her pussy gushed around him, creamy and hot, dripping down to the bed, mess soaking everything under them.

“Ahh—ahh—uhhh—f-fuck—”

She was breaking, voice stuttering, face twisted up, brows tight, lips trembling as she tried to keep her eyes on him. He grabbed her jaw from behind, fingers strong and possessive on her face, turning her chin even more so she had no choice but to stare at him while he kept pounding.

“Keep them eyes on me,” he growled, voice deep and close, his lips at her cheek now, “You feel this dick? That’s what you get for playin’ in my face. Now you gon’ learn.”

She cried out again, soft and desperate. Her body trembled with every stroke, thighs shaking, nails digging into the mattress. Her tits bounced with every hit, back dimples flexing. Erik’s hips moved fast now, but still controlled—like he knew exactly how deep to go to make her lose her mind. His thrusts hit that swollen spot inside her over and over, his thick dick pushing against her walls so deep her whole pussy fluttered in response.

“Unghhh…Daddy—please—”

He grunted low, rough, grinding in deeper.

“Nasty lil’ thing,” he said right in her ear, voice ragged now, his breath hot on her neck, “All that attitude. All that mouth. Now you over here whimperin’, creamin’ all over me like a good lil’ slut.”

She gasped, crying out again, that pleasure bubbling high and fast inside her. Erik didn’t let up. He kept her head turned, kept his body crashing into hers, all muscle, all grit, sweat dripping onto her back with every stroke. Both of them breathing heavy, biting their lips, eyes locked.

Sanaa stayed right where he put her—back arched, hands down, head still turned, mouth parted on a whimper. That dick had her wide open. Her whole body felt like it was on fire now, tingling from the inside out. She could feel every part of him—every thick inch, every slow drag, every deep slam that pushed up into places she ain’t even know could feel that good. Her thighs were shaking, hips twitching with every thrust. But Erik wasn’t letting her go nowhere.

He had her by the shoulders now, those strong-ass hands gripping tight, thumbs pressed into the back of her traps, arms flexed as he used his whole body to pull her back into each stroke. Feet planted. Muscles locked in. That perfect stroke rhythm starting to build again—steady, brutal, unrelenting.

No words now.

Just dick.

Just that thick, wet clap of his hips smacking against her ass over and over, the sound getting nastier, wetter, louder with every bounce of her cheeks. Just his grunts—low, throaty, deep in his chest. And that smug-ass “mhmm,” that came out when he bottomed out so hard she let out a full cry.

“Auhhh—uhh—daddy—fuck—”

Her voice broke every time he hit it. Her pussy clamped down again, tight and fluttering around him, slick coating his dick in warm cream that spilled with every deep thrust. The pressure inside her was swelling fast, like her body was trying to catch up to what he was doing to it—like her nerves were sparking all over. That dick was heavy. Thick as hell. Every push sent heat rolling through her belly, made her gasp, made her grab the sheets like she could anchor herself against it. He gripped her harder. Pulled her back harder. Snapped his hips forward and made that ass bounce harder.

Her titties swung with every stroke, sweat rolling down her chest, her back, between her thighs. Her whole body was shaking now, nerves on fire, pussy so wet it sounded like he was fucking straight into a bowl of honey. The slick was everywhere—coating him, dripping to the bed, making a mess of her thighs and the back of her knees.

And Erik was loving it.

Didn’t say a word. Just kept watching her. Kept them eyes on her like he was memorizing how she looked with his dick buried in her. Lips slightly parted. Jaw clenched. Locs stuck to his shoulders and jaw, swaying with every hard stroke.

“Unnnh…mmmh…uh-huh…”

Those cocky-ass grunts and hums kept falling out of his mouth, like her pussy was answering a question he ain’t even ask. That deep, wet squeeze her body gave every time he drove in. The flutter when he slowed up. The shiver in her legs when he picked the pace back up and pounded harder. Sanaa tried to reach back, tried to brace herself on his thigh, but he wasn’t having that. He let go of one shoulder, grabbed her wrist and planted her hand back down. Grabbed her hip again and took her right back into that stroke. Deep. Fast. Wet.

“Auhh—uhhh—uhhhhnnnn…”

She was gasping now, moaning with every single thrust. Her pussy started convulsing again, leaking more, pulling at him like it didn’t want him out. That heat between her legs turned molten, had her legs trembling under him, had her thighs slick and trembling.

Still pounding. Still controlling. Still dickin’ her down like she was built to take all of him and only him.

“D-don’t stop… I need it like that…" "Right there, oh my god…keep fuckin’ me, just like that…” “You feel how deep you in? I’m so full… I can’t take it—no, wait—I want it…” “Talk to me while you fuck me like this…tell me it’s yours…” “This dick feel so good, daddy…you tryna make me lose my mind?” “You fuckin’ me dumb…I swear I’m finna—oh my god—Erik…” “Look what you do to me…look at how I’m shaking…you proud of that?” “Don’t slow down—uh-uh, no—keep goin’, fuck me open…” “I want all of it…don’t hold back…tear it up.” “Mmmf…I’ll take all that dick, just keep giving it to me…make me remember.”

Sanaa was begging. Nonstop.

Voice all breathy and broken, words spilling out between moans like she couldn’t help it. Like she needed to be fucked. Needed to be filled. Saying anything, everything—just to keep him deep inside her.

“I’ll be g-good…I swear…” “I won’t run no more…you can do whatever you want…” “I’m listening, I’m listening…I promise I’m listening…” “Please, I’m tryna be good for you…ain’t I being good?” “You got me, daddy…you got all of me, I swear…” “I won’t move, I’ll stay right here…just keep fuckin’ me…”

She started begging while throwing it back, Erik talking her through it. 

“I’ll be good…I swear…I just—I need it—”

“Then take it. Show me how bad you want it.”

“I’m tryna be good…tryna take it all—”

“You doin’ good. Now stay right there and keep archin’ that pretty back.”

“You fuckin’ me so good, I can’t think straight—”

“Good. That’s the goal. I don’t want no thoughts in that head. Just me.”

Her back dipped low, arms trembling where she gripped the edge of the bed, face buried in the pillow. Erik had her locked in — one hand braced heavy on her lower back, the other gripping her hip, pulling her into each stroke. He wasn’t slamming into her. Nah. He was drilling her. Real slow. Real deep. Like he was laying pipe in her soul. She was throwin’ it back in broken stutters, thighs shaking, sweat sliding down her spine. Cream slicked his dick, thick and wet, strings of it gluing to the base. He could hear it every time he sank back in. That nasty, obscene squelch that made his jaw clench.

“You close?” he asked, voice low and dark behind her.

She nodded fast, whining. Couldn’t get words out. Just gasps and soft cries.

Erik leaned in, hips still grinding, still pushing all the way in. Then he slid two fingers into her mouth. Right between her lips. Like a pacifier, “Suck,” he said, “Be my good girl.”

And she did. Moaning around his fingers. Eyes rolling. Drool sliding down her chin as her body locked up. Her orgasm hit like a fucking car crash. Sanaa’s eyes crossed, jaw slackening around his fingers. Her legs gave out beneath her, back bowing as her body seized—pussy gripping and milking his dick. She screamed around his hand, whimpering and twitching, hips caught in the middle of the thrust.

“There you go,” Erik grunted, “That’s it. Cum on this dick just like that.”

Her cream spilled down his shaft in a thick, hot wave, soaking her thighs and the sheets beneath her. Erik didn’t slow. He fucked her through it, holding her mouth open with his fingers, thumb stroking her bottom lip. She sucked like she needed it to breathe. Eyes wet. Breath hitched. Body quivering.

“You feel that?” he growled, stroking deep again. “You still cumming, baby. Let it out.”

Her moans were high and muffled, body twitching as he stayed buried inside her. Still fucking her. Still making her feel everything. No breaks. No mercy.

“You want daddy to stop?” he asked again, pulling her head back by the hair, “Or you want more?”

She tried to answer, but all that came out was a choked moan around his fingers.

“Mmhm. Thought so.”

He pulled his fingers from her mouth slow, strings of spit still clinging to them, and dragged the wet trail across her ass. Sanaa was trembling, cheeks flushed, pussy still leaking from the last orgasm. But Erik gripped her waist again, pulled her back against him, and slid all the way in.

“Mmm…this lil’ pussy still wet for me?” he growled low behind her.

She whimpered, back arching. She tried to move — he pinned her down.

“Nah, keep still. I’m bout to fill you up.” His voice dropped, heavy and slow like a threat, “You feel that?” This me. All this dick. Stuffin’ this tight lil’ pussy.”

He started stroking again, deeper now, slow and punishing, his balls slapping against her soaked folds. Sanaa was crying into the sheets — moaning, choking, cumming all over again. And Erik was chasing his nut now.

“I’m gon’ breed this pussy.Drop this nut so fuckin’ deep, you’ll feel it in your stomach.” His hand slid up her back, gripped the nape of her neck, pushed her face down into the bed, “You hear me, baby? I’m the only one who get to fuck you like this.” He thrust harder now, hips slamming, the sound filthy. The sound of skin, of heat, of him claiming her. Possessive. Focused. Mean with it, “This slutty lil’ pussy… so good. Good pussy. My pussy. So fuckin’ tight I can barely breathe.”

Sanaa was gone. Babbling. Creaming again. Arching back into him even as her legs shook. And Erik—he was right at the edge. He grabbed both her hips, held her in place, and pushed all the way in — balls deep — and held it.

“Fuck…fuuuck—there it go—”

He groaned hard through clenched teeth as he nutted. Thick, hot, flooding her. Long spurts. Over and over. His dick twitched inside her as he emptied himself so deep, so full, he knew she’d be leakin’ when he pulled out.

“Mmm…there you go. Take all this nut, just like I taught you.” He leaned down, pressed his chest to her back, lips brushing her ear, This the only dick you know, baby. The best dick you ever had. And the last dick you gon’ ever get.”

Erik finally pulled out, slow and heavy, his dick slick with her cream and his nut. Sanaa whimpered at the emptiness, her thighs twitching. A thick stream of cum dripped from her used pussy, pooling between her legs—then more spilled when she arched slightly and pushed it out, her body still fluttering.

He watched it, eyes dark.

Then he leaned over her back, one hand spreading her ass, the other braced beside her head. His lips brushed her ear.

“Say my name.”

She swallowed a moan, still dazed, still open.

“Killmonger…” she breathed.

_________

“Ahem. May I come in?” Aizawa looked up searching for a student, only to find you there.

“What are you doing, babe? Did you forget you're a teacher here?” His gaze turned down to the sheet he was correcting.

“I know that, baby. Was just playin' around,” you smiled, playing with his front hair stand. You started pouting when he didn't give you any attention. But you didn't worry, since you didn't come in the office for no reason. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for any other staff but you didn't find any. That was it. The perfect time.

You squinted near his face, kissing his jaw to draw his attention towards you. “Baby, you know I'm busy,” his low-pitched voice sounds so hot. Fuck

“But I didn't ask you to do anything, babe,” you wore a grin, getting back to trailing kisses down his jaws. He realized that maybe you need his attention, but he what he didn't realize was your motive. Evil one.

Soon, the cute kisses became too wet for them to be cute, and your hands moved further and further to the north until they reached his belt. Poor man might be smart, he was too dumb to know what you had in mind. But he caught up only when he felt the tight hold around his waist getting looser by every second. Eyes wandered down to find his belt was unbuckled, he grasped your hand right then and there.

“What do you think you're doing? We're in office, baby,” he threatened, but you could hear the suppressed panic in his voice. You bent further down until you reached his ears.

“You want to work? Then work. I'm not asking you to pay attention anyway. Don't worry about others,” you whispered. But how can he not pay attention? You have no idea how hard you make him. It's not like your tight hero costume helps him. He won't lie, but letting you “calm” him in the office was too risky. Risky, but hot. He has only dreamt of it.

“Baby…fuck,” he moaned the moment your hands sneaked inside his pants, grabbing his semi-hard girth. You didn't have time to play around since the assembly down might be over soon and others will come back.

Your hands pulled his cock out. You slowly sank on him, making him groan at the feeling your tight walls. Just a little more, you kept relieving. Aizawa has always been too long for you. You loved how his eyes shut when his head hit your walls. Fuck. It's too much. Too wrong, but he can't stop. He just loves the way your insides wrap his length, tightly.

“AH AIZAWA KUN!” Suddenly, Toshinori entered the room in his hero form. But thanks to the desk, all he could see was Aizawa and you hugging.

“Ahem. Ah! I'm so sorry to barge in. You both are looking so cute together.” Cute wasn't really the right word. If only he knew the whole scene. Knew how your thighs were trembling as you tried to fit him in. Knew how fucked out Aizawa's pretty cock was inside you.

“Stay still, or you'll be punished,” shota whispered, spreading your thighs to reach deep, the other hand holding your waist to make sure you're not grinding too hard to be noticed. But even if all might does, he doesn't care. All he could care about that time was how fucking good you felt.