𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔪𝔞💋

IN THE A.

biker geto suguru x black hoochie mama reader

warnings: fingerfucking, soft dom sugu, he’s a tease, sugu has a big dick, but we knew this!

a/n: this man is so fine i need him neow.

second part here.

masterlist

Life has always treated you so well, beyond well, in fact. You resided in one of Atlanta’s finest lofts, debt-free at 23 despite recently graduating from college. Even though you have your own income, your generous parents still send you a fat check every week or so. You had men constantly begging on their knees to fund your entire existence, and on the occasion, women, too. Everything you wanted simply came to you with no trouble. 

You wanted that cute brown skin man with the waves that you saw at the grocery store? He already has your number. You want that pretty ’90s hairstyle you saw in a vintage magazine? You were already on your way to go get it done. You want to change your dramatic nails, even though you just got them done two days ago, because you found another style you want more? Who can deny you? It’s your world. 

Was it manifestation? Who knows. The one thing you do know is that the world hands you everything on a pure gold platter.

Popularity followed you whenever you went, but who could blame you? You were the epitome of everything sexy. From the way your rose-colored wedges beautifully complement your flawless white toes against your dark skin to how your denim mini skirts hug your curves and accentuate your figure, and your tops, or mainly bikini tops, enhance your boobs so well that they could make a grown man cry. 

Had you been an adult woman in the 90s instead of being a high-maintenance child, you might have been a star, perhaps even one of the most iconic video vixens. However, that title belongs to your momma. The OG.

She was the sought-after beauty every top rapper wanted for their music videos. From Snoop Dogg to 50 Cent, Lil Wayne to Jay Z, Biggie - she lit up screens. She even brought fire to the feud between Tupac and Biggie when she appeared in the latter’s video. You’re almost sure that lady even told you about how Pac was nearly your father before she met your dad. And you, like the little minx you were, lived up to her status.

Now, you weren’t in those modern-day rap videos of the pretty big booty woman shaking their ass on camera. Your momma raised you to have more class than that. She taught you that your ass isn’t the biggest asset you have to offer, figuratively. Your face is, the way you make people feel is, the way you seduce people is. 

That resulted in you appearing in a few music videos where the artist expressed love for someone, as those typically featured the camera focused on one girl. And that girl was you. Those got you the recognition your momma had. Those got men practically lining up to pay all your bills, those got plentiful women dying to either be you or be with you.

Your reputation preceded you; you were exceptional, operating on a different level altogether. Your complexion was flawless, your lips rich and full, and your eyes possessed a captivating allure that could weaken anyone with just one glance. You were taught to always go after the best because you are the best. 

So, what the hell was your ass doing walking around in Oakland City? Wearing your ripped undercut booty shorts, which showed more booty than shorts, along with a vintage Dior top you borrowed stole from your momma, complete with a matching purse.

Your flower sandals from Dolce & Gabbana made such a powerful tapping sound, combined with the multiple pieces of gold adorning your wrists, ears, and neck, that everyone you passed couldn’t help but look to see just who it was, and they were definitely not disappointed.

You’re not stupid. You wouldn’t dream of entering one of the most dangerous areas of your hometown without protection. Your bedazzled gold pepper spray and your fully loaded Beretta Nano 9mm pistol in your purse, itching to be used if someone tries you.

They wouldn’t dare, though. Your momma wasn’t the only legendary figure in your family. Your dad ran one of the leading crime families in all of Atlanta, dealing with heavy drugs, counterfeiting, and smuggling illegal things across borders. He was feared just as equally as he was respected. 

Messing with you? Your pops would send their family a well-decorated package with their son on a shirt. The last man that cheated on you was a prime example. You couldn’t feel bad for him, though, you did warn him.

To answer your earlier inquiry, which has been nagging at you since you parked your Toyota GR Supra Coupe at a motel five blocks away from the neighborhood, you were there to buy drugs. Weed, more specifically. You could have asked your father, but you really weren’t up for hearing his opinion on how he believes you smoke too much. So you go to the next best thing, Satoru Gojo. 

Since your dad was focused on dealing with harder drugs, he didn’t bother with substances like shrooms or anything related to weed. He considered himself too old for that and delegated the task to his second in command and your friend since birth, Satoru. You quicken your pace, heels tapping rapidly as you approach one of his many houses. You’re almost there. 

He has some of the best shit in the A, but whenever you ask him how he does it,

“I just sell it, Sis. My best friend does all the hard stuff,” 

You would always roll your pretty eyes at this because this supposed best friend he always bragged about was never around. At first, you believed he fibbed about having a best friend out of embarrassment, suspecting that you were the only one who could tolerate his antics.

But you saw glimpses, small ones. A fine leather jacket hanging off his dining room chair that you know Satoru wouldn’t wear. A motorcycle helmet standing tall on the side of his kitchen counter. Your suspicions proved unfounded as your gaze shifted to a sleek, blacked-out MTT 420 Turbine Superbike as you approached Toru’s driveway. 

You know damn well that can’t belong to Satoru. Your movements stop once you knock harshly on the door. You catch the faint sound of a random trap song playing through it. You can’t help but smile, amused by how predictably cliché this white-haired man-child can be. Trap music at a trap house.

Your smile fades as you’re met with a cold glare from a short, thick, light-skinned girl wearing a blonde wig. Studying her features further, you can’t help but acknowledge her prettiness. But the minute she opened her mouth, you were annoyed.

“And, who the fuck you is?” She snaps loudly, the gum she’s chewing matching her obnoxiousness. She’s too pretty for this.

“Girl, bye.” You push past her, causing her to stumble slightly, as you march into the house. Maybe she was about to say something, but you didn’t stick around to find out. With your back turned to her, you catch Satoru muttering softly and glancing past you, “Don’t even try it.” 

She sucks her teeth in annoyance, slamming the door behind her as she heads back to the couch where Satoru, another man, and three other girls are seated. Wait- another man? 

You glance back at the couch again, only to steady your hands on the wall you were leaning on. Woah. This man was so fine that he almost made your legs give out on you. The fuck?

His face was so pretty. Sharp black eyes and the longest hair you’ve ever seen on a man. The wife beater he wore clung tightly to his perfect skin, so much so that you could make out that he had nipple piercings. Woah. The tattoos trailing up both of his muscular arms had you ready to remind yourself to just fucking breathe. He sported washed black Chrome Heart jeans, and the pretty cross peeking from his waistband gave it away. 

This man was looking at you, more like undressing you with his eyes. And you couldn’t look away.

“You can’t be knocking on my door like that Sis, I almost thought you were the feds.” Satoru hums, though he really wasn’t worried. He knew the feds couldn’t hold him for long; he had too much money for that. You quickly glance at him and roll your eyes. When you shift your gaze away from Toru, you turn back to the man who has yet to introduce himself to you.

As if he could read your mind, he rises from his seat, his towering height catching you off guard, and he saunters almost sensually towards where you’re standing in the kitchen. The minute he stands in front of you,

“Suguru Geto. You’re beautiful if you don’t mind me saying,” He brings a hand out to shake yours, his eyes never shifting from your brown ones. You glance down for a moment, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy when you catch sight of his immaculately clean, clear polished nails, his fingers adorned with silver rings. Lord, help you.

You give him a smile when you register his compliment, “Y/n. You’re the infamous best friend I hear so much about but never see?” You raise a brow.

Suguru swears he’s died and went to heaven when he hears your honey voice. He thinks he’s met the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on. The gold grill you have of what he remembers is the Scorpio sign confirms it. I mean, just look at you, your outfit, your jewelry, and your face. 

Suguru believes he knows himself. He knows he doesn’t like girls that do “too much,” but you make it look so good. He knows he doesn’t even have a fetish for feet. But if you told him to right now, he would drop down immediately and worship yours. He believed a goddess was walking among him when you walked through the door. 

“That’s me, the idiot doesn’t have anyone else,” He mutters. You let out the cutest laugh at his comment that makes his dick harden in his jeans. Lord, help him.

Satoru lets out a dramatic gasp behind the two of you, “Hey! I have Y/n!” You immediately retort at him, raising a finger at him. 

“Aht! No, you don’t,” You chuckle, snickering and rolling your eyes as you catch him placing a hand on his heart as if you’ve just shot him.

“Stop hogging my best friend and come get what you came for, Sis,” He waves a bag in the air, holding at least 20 grams of weed, ignoring the two girls tugging on both of his arms.

You squeal and sprint as fast as your heels allow towards where he’s seated. Suguru follows after you slowly, feeling ashamed at the way the other two girls cling to him the moment he sits down. He wants nothing to do with them, he feels almost disgusted by their presence now that you’re here. He didn’t even realize they were here when he arrived, he was only here for Satoru.

You snatch the bag from him, slip it into your purse, and then lunge toward him for a hug, knowing he’d never let you pay, of course.

“Thank you, Toru!” Naturally, he wastes no time pushing the two girls aside to embrace you. You’ve always been his top priority. Suguru finds it challenging to look away because as you hug his best friend, your curvaceous behind is directly in his line of sight. He wishes you would hug him like that.

When you straighten, “I gotta go. You guys seem busy anyway,” You quickly utter and glance at Suguru. He seemed like he was about to say something, but you interject before he can. 

“It was nice meeting you, Suguru.” You softly tell him. He might’ve just came in his pants with the way you said his name in that tone. He pauses for a moment, but before he can utter a word, you’ve already dashed out the front door.

He stills, and he turns to his lifelong best friend,

“Give me her number.”

It’s been about two hours since you arrived at your loft. You prepared yourself a nice dinner, a well-made Alfredo, before making your way to your room. You sink into the comfort of your silk sheets, retrieving your ashtray and preparing to roll up. Soft Erykah Badu playing from your Alexa Speaker. You’re interrupted by an unknown number dinging on your phone. 

Who’s this?

You smile immediately, feeling a rush of nerves as you realize he asked Satoru for your number. You're accustomed to getting what you want, and right now, you want him. You eagerly await his text, noticing that he's typing.

You observe his directness. Suguru is texting you as if he knows exactly what he wants, and if there's one thing you admire in a man, it's when he's decisive and goes after what he wants. You've already decided to smoke with him, swiftly swapping your shorts for a black Juicy Tracksuit as it got windy. You opt to play a little hard to get.

Your jaw drops at the amount he sent you for an Uber. Is he crazy? While you’ve had people send you rides to go somewhere, you can’t shake the feeling that he just wanted an excuse to send you money. You’re still reeling from the shock when he immediately sends you the address to his place afterward. You grab two rolled-up blunts and slide on a pair of kitten heels. Snatching your keys, you head out when your Uber driver arrives outside.

The drive to his place is surprisingly short, almost too short. Considering how spread out the area is, you’ve only been in the car for 15 minutes, yet you’re still in the same neighborhood. You brush it off and approach his door. As you knock, you notice Suguru’s driveway filled with three vehicles: the motorcycle you saw earlier, a Mercedes E-Class, and a sleek BMW M3. You can’t help but appreciate yet another reason you’re drawn to him.

He opens the door, and you swear you wish you could pounce on him. He’s still wearing the wife beater, and when you glance up at his face, you notice his eyes are low and red. With his hair tied up in a man bun, a few strands cascading over his face, the only thought running through your mind is... He’s so pretty.

“You started getting lit without me?” You feign surprise as he welcomes you inside. He kindly takes your keys and hangs them on the holder by his door. You could feel him staring at your ass as you move to stand beside him.

He chuckles, shaking his head at you. He reaches a hand out. “You know how Satoru is. My room?” You nod, and he shivers as your long, pretty nails brush against his hand. Was everything about you so alluring?

You follow behind him, noting how he never lets go of your hand. His room, much like his style, is entirely black. Black sheets adorn a king-sized bed, with a few rock band posters hanging above where his dressers are placed. He even has a private bathroom, the door wide open. Damn, this man even has lavender incense burning on the small desk next to his bed.

“Make yourself comfortable, sweetheart,”

Don’t mind if I do. You drop your body on his bed with a plop. You start to take off your right heel, intending to reach for the left one, only to find Suguru already kneeling down, doing it for you. When he’s done, he rubs your feet for about three long seconds before pulling away. You gasp softly, looking away from his intense gaze. Is he usually this forward?

“Uh- I rolled two. I get lip gloss on the blunt,” You sputter out, retrieving them from your purse as he stands up from his position on the floor and settles onto his pillow.

He makes a tsk sound, “Don’t play with me,” He grabs only one from your raised hand and pulls a skull lighter from his jeans pocket. As you place the other one in your purse, you watch him take the first hit. You realize he enjoys eye contact because, throughout all of his movements, his eyes never leave yours.

You’re nervous. For the first time in your life, a man has made you feel nervous. His energy makes you nervous, how he observes you with such intensity makes you nervous, and even how he feeds you the blunt after taking a few hits makes you nervous.

You’re mesmerized. The effects of the blunts hit you swiftly, altering your mind and intensifying your urge to fuck this man till he sees stars.

Suguru himself has never felt this way before. He’s had a few flings here and there and has even been in a relationship or two. But he’s never felt the need to be entirely consumed by someone. The minute he saw you, it felt like time had stopped for him; he could hear how fast his heart was beating. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to give you the universe because the world is far too small for someone like you.

“You have a boyfriend?” His husky voice asks this out of respect for you. Honestly, he couldn’t give a fuck less if you had a man. You’d be his either way.

“Why? You want me?” You giggle, though you knew he did, you just wanted to tease him. As you gaze up at him through the haze, your breath catches when you observe that his eyes have darkened noticeably. You recognize that expression all too well—it mirrors the one you give the camera when it’s focused on you.

He doesn’t respond or even break a smile at your inquiry. No, his eyes are fixated on your plump, glossed lips as you take another hit. You shift your thighs a little, you don’t know how long you can wait before he makes his move.

Suguru notices, and this time, his lips twitch up a bit, “And if I did?” His whisper keeps you quiet. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? Suguru doesn’t mind your silence. He needs you to savor your angelic tune anyway since you’ll scream his name in a few minutes. Rising from his position, he tilts your chin towards him, his eyes catching note of the smoke in your mouth. Drawing his lips dangerously close to yours, he exhales softly,

“Let it go.” You don’t hesitate to listen to his command. It’s as if your mind is his now, the way he doesn’t even do anything to get your attention. As soon as the smoke escapes your lips, he inhales it, pressing his soft lips firmly against yours.

You whimper out at the force and immediately kiss him back. Suguru swears he’s already in love when he feels your lips reciprocate his action, the stickiness of your strawberry gloss making him release a sound that had you squeezing your thighs. He’s relentless, nipping and forcing his tongue to merge with yours.

His fervor with just a kiss leaves you reeling. The combination of the weed and his lips makes you feel intoxicated, causing you to grasp onto the fabric of his jeans to steady yourself. When he pulls away from you, it only makes you crave more.

You’re both breathing heavily, and the sound of Brent Faiyez playing on his speaker is long tuned out. He stares at your eyes briefly before gently pulling you down to lay on your back. You lean up to pull him into another passionate kiss,

“More, please.” You whine out, a little too desperate for your taste. You couldn’t understand why you wanted him so bad, maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the fact that your pussy was dripping the minute you saw him at Satoru’s place. You can tell he wants to take things slow, but you can’t find it in you to share the same feeling. You need him to do something to you, now.

He only whispers, “Patience, sweetheart.” And moves his lips down to your neck. Soft kisses fill your throat before he stops teasing and reaches for your zipper. He's not shocked to learn that you don't wear a bra; he could almost see your hard nipples through the velvet fabric of your hoodie.

Your sigh of satisfaction comes from the moment he wraps his lips around your dark areola and gently caresses the fat of your unattended boob. He starts slowly, listening to the sounds you make and observing how he can persuade you to moan louder. Your breath gets shaky when he gets more aggressive with his movement, pulling at your sensitive nipples. He decides that he wants more from you.

Suguru rasps out, “I know you want me to fuck you,” Your body feels on fire as his touch slithers down your stomach, grazing your belly ring. He lowers your tracksuit pants for you and throws them across his room, forbidding you to do anything that doesn’t include you receiving pleasure. Your body is anticipating as he continues, “But I need to prep you, or you won’t be able to take me,”

He toys with the slender strap of your thong, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on your face as he talks, “Be good and let me play with you for a bit, okay?”

Your fiery personality is well-known for not letting men dictate your actions. You’re quick to dismiss any nigga, and based on instinct, you’re almost prepared to snap: Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? 

By now, you should realize that Suguru observes every single move you make, every slight gesture you make, when your breath catches, and even now, he detects that you intend to snap at him. He does nothing but give you a look, a dangerous look, which only implies I dare you. Suguru orchestrates a dominance so calm but prominent that you can’t help but whimper out a quiet “Yes,”

What is he doing to you?

He presses a kiss to the side of your mouth as a reward. He’s in a trance. Suguru can’t pull his gaze away from your panties. You’re so wet that it’s clinging onto the fabric as he slowly pulls it away from your lower lips. He finds himself plunging two fingers into your wet cunt before your thong even touches your knees. Fuck, you’re tight.

“Ah- shit! Sugu!” You mewl, walls immediately clenching on his thick fingers. He quickly begins to rub circles on your twitching clit, observing as you gasp and scramble under him. You’re so beautiful like this, he thinks. He doesn’t hesitate to tell you this, too.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” Your slick is dripping all over his palm as he finger fucks you. You try to keep your moans in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your mind. But you can’t. You can’t do anything but scream out at the way his long fingers are effortlessly punishing your G-spot.

Suguru moves his fingers faster when you don’t answer him, “I asked you a question, baby.” 

Your loud whimpers can be heard over his music. How could you possibly answer? You’re already starting to blank, you’re not sure you even listened to what he said. “I- Oh fuck, Yes!” 

The sounds coming from your fat pussy is downright phonographic. The squishing, the squelching. Shit, it’s even dripping onto his bed, creating a wet stain. Fuck. Suguru doesn’t think he can take another minute without being inside you. He needs it, but he needs to make you cum first. 

He knows you’re about to, with the way your breathing is stuttering and the way there’s a white cream starting to stain his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you. You’re clenching so hard he’s not sure his dick will fit inside of you. He’ll make it fit, he’ll break your little pussy in if he has to.

Suguru leans against you, his desperate panting revealing his longing for you as he whispers in your ear, “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” He fucks his fingers inside of you harder, rubbing your pretty clit even faster.

You nod eagerly, mind already reeling as you wail, “Y-Yes. I’m gonna cum, Sugu! I- Shitt,” He gently kisses your lips, sliding his tongue into your mouth as if he’s encouraging you to accept it, to just cum all over him. And you do.

Your grip on the bottom of Suguru’s wifebeater hurts your fingers, and you arch your back off the bed while your tight walls clench once more around him. You see white spots in your blacked-out vision, and your squealing is so loud that you worry the neighbors will hear it. He doesn’t stop moving when you cum, wanting to prolong what he knows is the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. 

When you finally stop twitching in aftershock, your breathing begins to slow down, and his movements follow suit. Your panties are long gone. He swiftly pulls out of you while you’re still in a daze, making you unaware that he’s sucking up your essence from his fingers and pulling his jeans down along with his Calvin Klein briefs.

You are, however, aware when he pushes your thick brown thighs flush against your chest. And you’re even more aware when he lines his fat pink tip to your sticky lower lips. Suguru doesn’t let you see just how big he is, he directs your focus to his lips on yours. But Lord, do you fucking feel it. You feel it when he rubs up and down on your wet slit. You feel it when he pushes only his tip inside of you before he pulls back out again.

Suguru doesn’t think he can keep on teasing you like this. He tries to keep it up for your sake, but the way you feel on his tip has his body shaking; it’s almost embarrassing. But he can’t find himself to feel ashamed when you look up at him at him like that, your eyes pleading for him to fuck you into the mattress.

“I’m gonna put it in now, baby. I’m gonna fuck you real good, okay?” You’re learning, you know he wants an answer from you, and you don’t bat an eye when your trembling, honeyed voice whispers, “Whatever y-you want, Sugu.”

Whatever he wants? You probably should’ve never said that, and he’ll show you why. He pushes inside of your cunt slowly, hissing at the same time you shriek when your walls try to push him out. “Breathe,” He rasps out. And you’re trying, you’re really trying to. But he’s just so fucking big, it’s like he’s breaking your pussy in half. 

“Y-You’re too big! I can’t-” He doesn’t let you finish, he proves that you can when he pushes in halfway through your slobbering pussy. 

“Of course you can, Y/n. You’re almost there, sweetheart. One more breath for me, yeah?” 

You listen wordlessly, sucking in another deep breath. It’s inevitable to cry when he plunges the rest of his 8 and a half inches in one go. Suguru lets out a groan in your ear, and the sound makes your insides churn. How is it that he immediately finds your spongy spot? You’re so used to being briefly grazed in that spot that this feeling is foreign to you.

Suguru gives you a few seconds before your pussy starts suffocating him, and he’s forced to start feeding you with slow, deep strokes. “Jesus, fuck!” You keen, mewling, and pressing on his firm abs; the pressure was just too much for you. Are you crazy?

“None of that Y/n.” He uses his left hand to hold both of your hands and place them above your head, gently grasping your throat with his right. All the while, his eyes never leave yours, and his big cock never stops stirring up your guts at that slow pace. He gets impatient. 

“You feel so good, so fucking tight. Pretty pussy is mine now, yeah? Tell me it is,” Gradual snapping of his hips against yours in a feverous tempo causes you to scramble under him, with your mind getting lost since you can’t find anything to keep you grounded. He has you altogether under his control, and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset.

You don’t respond, your brain too gone to form any thought that’s not Sugu. You’ve forgotten your manners, he’ll make sure to remind you. He snaps his hips harder, he swears the cries you make almost make him cum on the spot.

“Words, Y/n. Tell me this perfect pussy is mine,” The sound of your soaked pussy filling the air as he whispers against your lips, which are permanently shaped in a perfect O.

You weep out, “Fuck! Oh, Sugu- it’s yours, all yours! I- Ah!” His face adorns with a sly smile at your confession. His body is on fire, your pussy perfectly snug around the shape of his cock. He knows he’s about to cum, with the way his insides are twisting, and his heavy balls are twitching rapidly as they slap on the fat on your ass. Your pussy is so good that he swears you’re not even from this planet. But he needs to get you there first. That’s all he needs to dump his seed inside of you.

He slithers the hand gripping your throat down to your drooling clit, rubbing so fast you think you’re having whiplash. Your cries become louder, and before you even know what’s happening, you’re covering Suguru’s entire stomach and his soft sheets with your squirt.

Suguru follows swiftly after you, letting out a sinful moan, his body trembling as he fills your pussy with his cum. It’s so much, so fucking much, that you can feel it overflowing past your stretched-out pussy. The sluggishness of his thrusts inside you causes him to let out loud breaths and drop his face in the crook of your neck.

Your eyes are still stuck on the ceiling above you, shallow breaths emerging from your sore throat. Woah.

The long-haired man above you is still panting and giving you another command, making it difficult for you to process what just happened to you.

“On your stomach, sweetheart.”

This time, you remember your manners.

Wunmi Mosaku as Annie

Michael B. Jordan as Smoke

WARNING: NASTY SMUT, DIRTY TALK, GxG, 3SOME, 18+

Masterlist Masterlist 2

sorry for the long wait🤣 if there are any typos, i’m sorry 😭✨

Summary: You love to clown Michael about his age. But you quickly learn — again and again — that he might have a couple greys in his beard, but there’s nothing old about him.

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x Younger!Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTT, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, hair pulling, rough oral (m!receiveing), oral (both), slight degradation, insatiable!Michael, this is an amalgamation of a bunch of scenes i was too slutty to cut out

who's ready to get fucked uppppp! another item checked off my heathen draft checklist. have i been working on this for the last two weeks while i'm at work? yes. am i sorry? no. i'm salaried. i still got paid. so we're good! pleaaaaase send me some asks if you've got any ideas for a new fic. thxxxx

MINORS DNI PLS

Warnings: MDNI! 18+, Roommates, Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Terry has a Dom Side. P in V, Oral (Fem Received).

Imagine waking up, walking on eggshells all because you and your roommate don't get along.

Sierra pulled herself out of bed, grabbed her house robe and walked downstairs carefully not to wake the big ass bully sleeping three doors down.

As she made her way down to the kitchen, she decided to only cook breakfast for herself since they got into a heated argument last night, she wanted Terry to suffer.

Deciding on a hearty breakfast, she made an omelette, turkey bacon, eggs with an assortment of fresh fruits, and some freshly squeezed orange juice.

Guessing the smell woke Big Grumpy up.

Terry walks in the kitchen not addressing you.

“Well good morning to you too.”

He glances at you briefly, his hazel green eyes cold and distant as he grabs a beer from the fridge.“Aight. Morning I guess.”

He pops open the can and takes a swig, his muscular tattooed arm flexing with the motion. Terry leans against the counter, eyeing you up and down appraisingly.

“Yo, you got plans today or what? Tryna keep it on the low, ya feel me?”

His voice is gruff and dismissive, clearly hoping you'll make yourself scarce so he can do whatever he pleases without interruption.

“Nah.”

He shrugs noncommittally, taking another long pull from his beer. “Cool, cool. Just don't be all up in my grill, aight?”

Terry sets the can down and starts rummaging through a drawer, pulling out a lighter and some rolling papers. He begins skillfully rolling a joint with practiced ease.

“I'm expectin' company later if you catch my drift.”

He smirks knowingly, his pink plump lips curling into a suggestive grin as he licks the edge of the paper to seal it. “So maybe bounce for a few hours, yeah? Give a bro some privacy to get his freak on.”

His tone is blunt and entitled, clearly used to you accommodating his extracurricular activities.

Terry's casual attitude and suggestive comments make it clear that he's expecting some intimate company and wants you to give him space for it. He's not shy about his intentions, using phrases like "get his freak on" and a knowing smirk to convey his plans. His request for you to "bounce for a few hours" is straightforward and assumes that you'll be accommodating his needs.

“Uhh… this is my apartment too! So no, I'm not about to ‘bounce’!”

Terry raises an eyebrow, looking at you like you're being obtuse. “Oh, word? This is your crib now too huh?” He snorts derisively, taking a hit off the joint before exhaling a stream of smoke. “Well ain't that somethin'. You best be mindin' your manners then, 'cause I run this half, understood?”

He steps closer, invading your personal space as he looms over you, his towering frame and intense gaze making you feel small. Terry flicks ash from the tip of the joint onto the floor before grinding it out under his heel. “Just remember, I'm the one payin' the bills around here. So if you wanna keep livin' here, you better learn to play nice. Capisce?” The unspoken threat hangs heavy in the air, leaving little room for argument.

“As if I don’t help you pay them too Terry.” Sierra said slamming her fork down.

Terry scoffs, rolling his eyes at your retort. “Oh please, like your measly rent check covers half the expenses.” He smirks condescendingly, leaning back against the counter once more. “I'm talkin' 'bout the real costs - utilities, property taxes, maintenance... You think you're shouldering equal weight in this arrangement? Please.” Terry crosses his bulging arms over his chest, his biceps straining against the fabric of his tank top. “But hey, since you brought it up, why don't you cough up some extra cash, aight? Maybe that'll shut you up and remind you who's really callin' the shots here.” His tone is mocking, a clear challenge aimed directly at you.

You take a deep breath, unfazed by Terry's posturing. "Oh, I see how it is," you respond, matching his condescending tone. "You think throwing your weight around is going to solve anything? Newsflash, Terry: I know exactly what the 'real costs' are. I'm not some naive little kid you can boss around."

You step closer, holding his gaze steadily. "And if you think I'm not pulling my weight, then maybe it's time you actually sit down and do the math. Maybe then you'll realize that your 'extra cash' demand is just a power trip. I pay my share, and then some. So, how about this: you back off, act like an adult, and we'll have a civil conversation about this. Otherwise, you can keep your macho act and your ridiculous demands to yourself."

Terry lets out a low, amused chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly nods. Alright then, Sierra. If you're dead set on stickin' around, I reckon I can accommodate that. He leans back, folding his arms across his broad chest once more.

“Just remember, when I bring my friends over, they're lookin' for a good time, and that includes with you if you're willin' to participate.” His tone is matter-of-fact, devoid of emotion. “So either you're down to join the fun, or you need to find somewhere else to be while I've got company. Your choice.”

Terry's gaze is challenging, daring you to defy him further. The air between you crackles with tension, each of you waiting to see how the other will react to this ultimatum.

You hold Terry's gaze, refusing to back down from his challenge. "You know what, Terry? I'm not some toy for you and your friends to play with. I have my own life, and I won't be bossed around like some kind of plaything."

You pause, letting your words sink in. "But I'm not going to run and hide either. I'll be here, and if your friends can respect that, then we won't have a problem. If they can't, well, that's on them. I'm not going to change who I am or what I do to accommodate their 'good time."

Terry raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Suit yourself, Si. But don't say I didn't warn you. My friends can get pretty rowdy, and they're not exactly known for their subtlety. If you're gonna hide in your room, make sure it's soundproof. Wouldn't want you getting disturbed by all the... fun." He winks, emphasizing the last word with a leer that makes his intentions clear.

He pushes off from the counter, taking a step closer to you. "But hey, if that's what you want, who am I to stop you? Just don't come crying to me if you change your mind and want to join in. Once the party starts, the rules are a little... different."

“I’ll rather stay in my room to be dealing with yall lame asses.”

Terry shrugs, a hint of disappointment flashing in his eyes before he quickly masks it with a nonchalant smirk. “Suit yourself, then.” He turns away, heading back toward the front door. “Just don't go gettin' all huffy puffy if you hear some moans echoin' through these walls, aight? It's just business as usual.”

With that, Terry exits the apartment, closing the door firmly behind him. The sound of his footsteps fades down the hallway as he disappears into his own unit, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the weight of his parting words.

Several hours later, the sound of raucous laughter and muffled voices filters through the thin walls of the apartment. Terry's deep baritone mingles with feminine giggles and the clinking of glasses. Suddenly, there's a sharp rap at your bedroom door, followed by Terry's voice, slightly slurred but still commanding.

“Yo, Sierra! Open up, would ya? Got someone here who's dyin' to meet you.” There's a pause, then he adds with a chuckle, “And trust me, you don't wanna miss this. C'mon out and play nice, yeah?”

You open the door. “Yes Terry?”

Terry stands in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame with a lopsided grin plastered on his face. His usually neat braids are slightly disheveled, and his shirt is untucked, giving a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. Behind him, you can see a group of scantily dressed women standing behind him and whoever his friend was , their eyes roving hungrily over Terry's form.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence.” He slurs his words slightly, clearly a few drinks deep already. “Sierra, meet my main man, Jermaine. Jermaine, this is my sexy lil' roomie I was tellin' y'all about.” He gestures vaguely to a heavyset man with a gold chain who waves lazily in your direction.

Sierra looked at Jermaine and back at Terry with pure disgust. “Not interested.”

Jermaine, with a smirk, eyes you up and down, taking in your appearance with a slow, deliberate gaze.

“Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?” He chuckles, his voice a deep rumble. “Terry here has been talkin' 'bout you non-stop. Said you got a mouth on you and a body to match.” He flirts, his gold chain glinting in the light. “Come on in, don't be shy. We ain't got no strangers here, only friends we ain't fucked yet.” He lets out a hearty laugh, and the women around him giggle, their eyes still fixed on Terry

“Oh y’all got me bent. I’m not fucking your big ass! “You yelled as you pushed passed the both of them, going downstairs.

Terry pushes off from the doorway, stumbling slightly as he makes his way to the couch, flopping down next to Jermaine.

“Yeah, yeah, ignore his crude ass.” He waves a hand dismissively at Jermaine. “He thinks he's all that and a bag of chips” He turns to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wanna drink, baby? I got tequila, vodka, whiskey—you name it.”

“No Terry, I don’t want a drink.”

“Ight Si, I’m goin’ to go get the rest of us some drinks.”

Jermaine watches Terry leave, then turns his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in your reaction.

“So, you and Terry got a thing goin' on, or what?” He asks, his voice a low growl. “He's a good dude, but he's got a wild side.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gold chain swinging freely. “You gotta keep up with him, or he'll run right over you”. He pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I get the feelin' you ain't the type to back down from a challenge. Am I right?”

“To be honest, we can’t stand each other.”

Terry stumbles back into view, draping himself over the back of the couch where the women are seated. He grins at you and Jermaine, his eyes glazed over with alcohol and lust. “Aww, don't be like that, Jermaine. Sierra and I got our own special arrangement, ain't that right, baby?” He winks at you salaciously before turning his attention to the woman beside him, nuzzling into her neck and making her squeal with delight.

“A definitive statement of a hoe!” You said grabbing some snacks from the kitchen.

“Man whatever, Si! You just don’t like me cause you want me.”

“Nah nigga! YOU mad cause you can’t fuck me!”

“Oh I can, but you won't let me. That’s the difference. I’ll have your ass screaming, seeing the fucking stars. Try me, babygirl.” Terry whispered into her ear as he pushed her back into the counter.

Sierra’s legs clenched together at his words, letting them sink in slowly. She knew he wasn’t playing with her by the way his voice got lower and deeper than usual and his eyes dropped. As much as she hated to say it out loud, she’d let this man ravage her, fix her attitude & more.

She couldn’t even count the number of times she spent in her room; masturbating to the sound of his voice when he was on the phone, the vivid picture of him naked in the shower; water running down his perfect body. The grunts and moans he made when he was stroking himself, letting her purposely hear him. She’d even have wet dreams about him between her legs, tongue buried deep in her cunt.

As the party continues in full swing, Terry periodically glances over at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of challenge and desire. It's clear he's enjoying putting on a show, trying to provoke a reaction out of you. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and the underlying current of sexual tension.

You got up and walked to the bathroom. After handling your business, you walk back out only to meet Terry in the hallway. You can see it in his eyes that the liquor has taken an effect on him. Terry grows increasingly bold in his flirtations and provocative behavior. He saunters over to you, a fresh bottle of liquor in hand, and slings an arm around your shoulders “You know, Si”, he purrs, his words slightly slurred, “I been thinkin'. Maybe we oughta renegotiate our little living arrangement.”

He takes a long swig from the bottle, his free hand trailing down your arm. His eyes glint with mischief and barely concealed hunger as he awaits your response, the party raging on around you both.

“Boy, move. You are not my type.” You try to push Terry’s built body out your way, clearly he’s not moving and you’re not pushing him enough.

“So Jermaine is? I saw the way you looked at him when I introduced y’all. You don’t want him, you want me. Stop denying yourself that.” Terry said getting closer to you, pushing his body against yours, making you hot and flustered as he did

“You know I can’t stand you.”

“And what’s wrong with us having a little fun that we both want. You can hate me all you want Sierra, but your body can’t.”

“Well you hate me! You walk around here everyday not speaking to me or can’t even being bothered to be in the same space as me.”

Terry blinks rapidly, momentarily caught off guard by your question. He pulls back slightly, studying your face intently as if trying to discern your true intentions. “Hate you? Nah, shorty. That ain't even close to what I feel.” He shakes his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Truth is, you confuse me somethin' fierce. One minute I wanna wring your neck for all the lip you give me, and the next…” He trails off, his gaze drifting over your curves appreciatively before snapping back to your eyes. “Well, let's just say you got a certain... appeal, yeah?”

You chuckle, taking another sip from the bottle before handing it back to him.

"Appeal, huh? I'll take that as a compliment, Terry. And you know what? The feeling is mutual. You confuse me too, with your crazy antics and that damn charm of yours. But that's what makes life interesting, right? The unpredictability?"

You lean in a little closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"So, do we have a deal, rommie? Or are you chicken?" You wink, challenging him one last time, a playful smirk on your lips.

Terry's eyes darken with desire at your challenge, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face. “Chicken? Nah, baby. You know I ain't scared of nothin', least of all a fine piece of ass like you.” He downs the rest of the bottle in one long gulp before tossing it carelessly aside, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Alright, Sierra. You want unpredictable? I'll give you the unpredictable. In one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, backing you up against the wall. His large hands come up to bracket your face as he leans in, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours. “Let's make this interestin', yeah? How 'bout we raise the stakes a bit? Winner takes all - control, submission, the whole nine yards. You game, or you gonna tap out now?”

Your heart races as you feel his breath on your lips, but you don't back down. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt, and push back slightly, a defiant spark in your eyes.

"Control, huh? You think you can handle that, Terry? You think you can handle me?" You let out a soft laugh, your voice a low purr. "Alright, big talker. You're on. But remember, you asked for this. No backing out now."

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper,"And Terry? No holding back. I want to see what you've got. Let's make this night one to remember."

Terry's pupils dilate with lust at your bold challenge, a low growl rumbling in his chest as your hands press against him. In a flash, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, one powerful thigh wedged between your legs as he grinds against you. “Oh, I can handle you alright, baby. Question is, can you handle me?” He nips at your earlobe before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, his stubble deliciously rough against your skin.

His hands roam your curves possessively, squeezing and kneading as he maps out every dip and swell of your body. “Mmm, you feel that, Si? That's what you do to me.” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, letting you feel the hard evidence of his arousal.

You gasp at the sensation of his body against yours, but you don't miss a beat. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his head back so you can look into his eyes.

"That's all you got, Terry? You think that's gonna break me?" You smirk, your voice breathless but determined. You wanna play rough? Let's play rough."

You grind back against him, matching his intensity, your other hand gripping his shoulder for leverage. You lean in, your teeth grazing his earlobe as you whisper, "But remember, you started this. And I always finish what I start."

Terry's eyes flash with a dangerous mix of lust and admiration at your fiery response. A feral grin splits his face as he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand while the other grips your hip bruisingly tight. Fuck, Sierra. You're playing with fire, baby.” He growls, his voice low and rough with desire.

He crashes his lips against yours in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue as he claims your mouth thoroughly. When he finally pulls back, you're both panting harshly. “You want rough? I'll give you rough.” In a blur of motion, he hoists you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you towards his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. “Last chance to back out, shorty.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tight as he carries you, your legs locked around his waist. You smile against his lips, your voice a low, sultry challenge.

"Who says I want to back out? You think I'm scared of a little rough play, Terry? Bring it on. I can take whatever you dish out and give it right back. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Send your bitches and your friends home.”

Terry shouts from upstairs. “Aight, y’all ain’t gotta go home but y’all gotta get the fuck outta hea.” He makes you giggle in his neck at his remark.

He kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, stalking towards the bed with you still wrapped around him. His eyes burn with primal hunger as he lays you down, covering your body with his much larger frame. “Oh, I know you can take it, Sierra. Question is, can you handle everything that comes after?” He rumbles, his voice dripping with dark promise.

His hands make quick work of your clothes, practically tearing them off in his haste to get to your bare skin. He sits back on his haunches, drinking in the sight of you laid out before him like a feast. “Fuck, look at you.” You arch your back, presenting yourself to him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"You think you're the first to try? Bring it on, Terry. Show me what you got. But remember, two can play at this game." You reach out, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, before moving down to his belt, slowly unbuckling it.

"You talk a big game, but actions speak louder than words. Let's see if you can back it up."

Terry releases your wrists only to grab your thighs, pushing them further apart as he settles between them. He leans down, his lips hovering just above your breasts, his hot breath ghosting over sensitive skin. “Gonna markup this pretty skin, Sierra. Let everyone know who you belong to now. He murmurs, before drawing one dusky peak into his mouth, suckling hard as his hand kneads the other roughly.

His free hand trails lower, teasing along your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to your aching center without quite touching where you need him most. He alternates between loving attention on your breasts and peppering biting kisses along your collarbone, leaving a trail of reddened skin in his wake.

You moan, your head falling back as you give in to the sensations he's stirring within you. Your nails dig into his back, urging him on.

"More, Terry. Don't hold back. Show me who's boss." You gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

You buck your hips, trying to grind against him, but he holds you in place, his strong body pinning you down.

"Please, Terry. I need you. Now."

Terry groans at your desperate pleas, the sound vibrating against your skin. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your breast. “That's it, baby. Beg for it. Let me hear how bad you want it.” He commands, his voice rough with lust.

He sits back, making quick work of his remaining clothes, revealing his impressive physique in all its glory. His cock springs free, hard and throbbing, the swollen head already glistening with precum. He strokes himself slowly, teasingly, as he drinks in the debauched sight of you sprawled out beneath him.

“Gonna fill this tight little pretty pussy up so good, baby. You ain’t gonna want anyone else. He promises darkly, positioning himself at your entrance.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking him in time with his own movements.

"I want it, Terry. I want you to ruin me. To fuck me so good I'll never want anyone else. Now stop teasing and give it to me." You guide him to your entrance, your eyes locked on his, daring him to hold back any longer.

"Show me what you're made of, Big Daddy. Make me yours."

With a feral growl, Terry surges forward, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt in one powerful thrust. He hilts himself fully, stretching you wide around his thick girth. “Fuck, Sierra! So goddamn tight.” He grits out through clenched teeth, giving you a moment to adjust before he starts to move.

He sets a pace, stroking into you with deep, purposeful strokes that hit all the right spots. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of exertion. “Take it, baby. This what you wanted huh? That’s the reason why you had all that fuckin’ attitude with me for? Don’t worry, I’ma fuck right out yo bratty lil ass.”

One hand finds your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he drives into you relentlessly.

You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, urging him on.

"Yes, Terry! Just like that. Harder, faster. I can take it. I want it all." Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging in as you meet his thrusts, our bodies slapping together in a frenzy of desire.

"Fuck, you feel so good. So deep. Don't stop, Terry. Don't you dare stop." Your words are a jumbled mess, your body on fire with pleasure as you chase your release, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Ouuuu, I can’t stand yo ass but you fuck me so gooooood!” Sierra yelps, gripping Terry’s black sheets.

Terry throws his head back with a throaty laugh, undeterred by your declaration. If anything, it seems to spur him on, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and erratic. “Aw, but your body loves me though, baby. Look how wet you are, how perfectly you're takin' my dick.” He smirks, reaching down to where you're joined, collecting some of your slick arousal and bringing it to his lips, sucking it off his fingers with a groan.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue as he continues to pound into you. “You can lie to yourself all you want, mama. But we both know the truth. You crave this, crave me. I'm the only one who can satisfy you like this.”

The more you tried to deny yourself of it, you couldn’t. You most definitely did crave him. More than you admit it. The way his toned body pressed into yours, the feeling of his dick massaging your walls; making you stuffed and full, the way he had your head feeling all fuzzy and dumbfucked. But you LOVED every part of it.

You kiss him back with equal fervor, your tongue battling with his as you moan into his mouth.

"You're right, damn you. I do crave this. I crave you. Now shut up and fuck me like you mean it." Your hands roam his body, feeling the sweat-slicked muscles rippling beneath his skin as he moves above you.

You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as you climb higher and higher. You break the kiss, your head thrashing from side to side as you chant, "Yes, yes, yes! Right there, Terry. Right fucking there!"

Terry's thrusts become shorter, more erratic as he nears his peak. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there, marking you as his. “Fuck. Gonna cum so deep in this pussy. Fill you up till it's leakin' outta you.” He pants against your throat, his hips stuttering as he chases his release.

You feel your own orgasm crashing over you, your inner muscles clenching and releasing around him as you cry out his name.

"Terry! Yes! I'm cumming! Fill me up, baby. Make me yours." Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you hold on tight, riding out the waves of pleasure that threaten to drown you.

Your body milks him, drawing out his own release as he roars against your neck, his hot breath and the pounding of his heart the only sounds in the room as you both come down from your high.

Terry pulls out of her, only to flip Sierra on all fours, arching her back even more. He wrapped his hand on the back of her neck and the other, directly in the middle of her back. “Mmm, look at this perfect ass. Could bounce a quarter off this shit.” He groans appreciatively, giving your rear a hard smack before gripping the cheeks and spreading them wide.

He leans down, dragging his tongue along your slit from front to back, circling your puckered hole teasingly. “I’m about to eat this pussy like it's my last meal. Have you squirmin' and beggin' for more.” Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, two fingers plunging knuckle-deep into your soaked channel.

“Keep that ass up, if I see it fall, I’m drilling your ass more.” A rough, hard smack clashed with her ass. This caused Sierra to yelp out in pain.

“Daddy-.”

You moan loudly, your body pushing back against his face as he devours you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white as you try to maintain some semblance of control.

Your words are a jumbled mess, your body on fire with pleasure as he fingers you expertly, curling his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside.

You can feel another orgasm building, your body tensing as you push back against him, urging him deeper. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your moans filling the room as you chant.

Terry smirks against your flesh, giving your clit one last firm suck before withdrawing his fingers. He rises up behind you, gripping your hips bruisingly tight as he notches the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Greedy little thing, aren't you? Can't get enough of my dick.” He teases, circling your hole with the swollen head, coating himself in your slick arousal.

With a grunt, he sinks back into you to the hilt, bottoming out in one smooth stroke. He sets a punishing pace, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he beats your shit up. “Pussy gripping me so fucking tight. Creaming my shit up so mothafuckin good.” He praises, one hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back as he rails you from behind.

You cry out, your back arching as he pulls your hair, the slight pain only heightening your pleasure. Your hands reach back, grabbing his thighs, trying to push him back a little.

Your body is a mess of sensations, the feel of his cock filling you, the slap of his skin against yours, the pull of your hair. It's all too much and not enough all at once.

His free hand grabs both of yours. “Take this dick. You got a big mouth on you so be a big girl and stop running.”

At this point, you’re completely too fucked out to put a single word together. He had you right where he wanted you and there was nothing you could do to get out of it.

“Where’s my mouthy bitch from earlier, hmm? Dick got you in a trance? Yeah, I know, baby. Daddy fucking knows.” Terry put one leg up on the bed and started going in. You could feel his tip poking at your cervix and your g-spot. It was too much pleasure for you and your body opened up like Niagara Falls on a rainy day.

“There that shit go! Wet me the fuck up, princess. Good ass pussy. You've been keeping this pretty pussy from me and I don’t like that. No, Daddy doesn’t like that at all.”

Terry leans down, nipping at your ear as he talked you through it. He definitely meant when he said about you seeing stars, your ass was seeing the whole damn galaxy. Drool was coming out the side of your mouth falling onto your chest and the bed. You were completely and utterly having an outer body experience.

“You still got them Plan B’s in your drawer?”

You shook your head “yes”

“Good, you gone need it. I’m bouta’ nut all in this wet shit.”

As your climax hits, Terry follows soon after, burying himself balls-deep one last time as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan. “Damn! Take it all, baby. Milk every last drop.” He rasps, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm.

Finally spent, he collapses atop you, both of you struggling to catch your breath. After a moment, he carefully withdraws, rolling to the side and pulling you flush against his chest. “Damn, girl. You really tried to kill me with that pussy, huh?” He jokes weakly, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your temple.

Coming down from your euphoric high, you cling on to him. Terry holds you close in his arms. After a couple of minutes, he gets up and walks out the room. You lay there catching your breath and looking up at the ceiling. The sound of water running snaps you back into reality.

Terry comes back into the room, grabbing you and lifts you effortlessly in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom, slowly sitting you down in the tub before getting in with you. You both sit there soaking in the hot water, your back in his chest, and his strong arms soothing your body. You relax your head on him as he works his magic onto you.

“My pretty girl. I’m sorry for treating you like shit. Truth is I was protecting my feelings from you. I was scared you weren’t gonna’ want me Si. I actually do love you.” He says kissing your temple.

To hear those words was like heaven to you. All those times where you both fought, argued, gave each other the silent treatment; it didn’t matter anymore. You know after tonight that the relationship between you was bound to change. You were his and he was yours. You fell asleep as he started washing your body.

Hours later, you were awakened by something feeling slimy and wet between your legs. You rubbed your eyes, wiping away the sleep from them. You looked down and saw a head moving and you knew exactly who it was. Terry had his entire mouth over your pussy.

“Terry?” You said sitting up a little.

“Hush, lay back down. Let Daddy eat. I got hungry and wanted something sweet.”

HONORABLE TAGLIST: @nayaesworld @theereinawrites @writingsbytee @dxddykenn @kaylalb @fakxmbj @nayaxwrites @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kumkaniudaku @blowmymbackout

Ohhhh say no moreeee 😏🤭

Terry Richmond x Thick!Black Reader

please excuse any errors or mistakes

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

Ay, I'm pourin' that drink on top of you

Then I'ma sip it all off of you

Sip, sip, sip, sip

A firm hand gripped your knee making you turn your head, your gaze falling on Terry. His eyes low and piercing, now a deep shade of green, that one look told you everything you needed to know.

A night out drinking with friends had him beyond horny. His pants tightened as his dick grew against his thigh as he watched you from the table. He sat with his eyes fixated on you, the sway of your thick body as you danced with your girls had him failing to focus on the conversation at the table.

Terry Richmond x Thick!Black Reader

please excuse any errors or mistakes

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

Ay, I'm pourin' that drink on top of you

Then I'ma sip it all off of you

Sip, sip, sip, sip

A firm hand gripped your knee making you turn your head, your gaze falling on Terry. His eyes low and piercing, now a deep shade of green, that one look told you everything you needed to know.

A night out drinking with friends had him beyond horny. His pants tightened as his dick grew against his thigh as he watched you from the table. He sat with his eyes fixated on you, the sway of your thick body as you danced with your girls had him failing to focus on the conversation at the table.

LET ME COOK! BIG MAMA COMING THRU FRYING SHIT 🤭🤭🤭!