ππβ΄β΄ ππ½β΄πππ
jaafar jackson x blackfem!reader (you can always imagine differently tho!)
a/n: Ik I said Thursday but I just couldnβt waittt to post thisssss
βDivider Symbols & Text Separatorsβ is where I got π from
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You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing your hands over the soft blush pink dress.
It was exactly what you wanted, it hugged your curves just right, and a short hem that showed off your legs.
"Babe, you almost ready? We're supposed to be there in forty minutes." Jaafar called from the other room.
"Almost!" You grabbed your purse, checked your gloss, and stepped out in your heels.
His eyes moved slowly over you as you did a small spin. "What do you think? Pretty, right?"
He didn't answer right away. "That's what you're wearing?"
You frowned. "Yeah... why?"
You rolled your eyes. "It covers what it needs to."
"Turn around," he said quietly.
"Turn around. Let me see the back."
You turned around for him.
"The back is open," he said, his hand brushing your lower back. "And the front...one wrong move and everything's on display."
"That's not true!" You turned around and you crossed your arms beneath your chest, which only pushed your breasts up higher. "It's plenty loose. Watchβ"
You bent forward at the waist the way you might to adjust a shoe or pick something up. The fabric draped and shifted. For a moment, you thought you'd proved your point.
Then you felt the dress ride up.
The hem crept higher until you could feel cool air on the tops of your thighs.
You straightened quickly, face warming.
Jaafar raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, so maybe if I bend overβ"
"You're going to be bending over all night. Dancing. Sitting down. Getting drinks." His voice dropped lower. "Everyone's going to see that."
"Barely." He tugged lightly at the fabric. "By the end of the night, someone's seeing more than they should. Is that what you want?"
"I just wanted to look good for you," you admitted softly.
His hand tilted your chin up. "You always do. But this? It's too much."
"I thought you'd like it."
"Someone's going to see your tits by the end of the night. Is that what you want?"
"Why are you fighting me on this?"
He stepped back. "Take it off."
"The dress. You're not wearing it out."
Slowly, you pulled it over your head, standing there in the set you picked just for tonight.
"Put it up," he said. "Then come back."
You did, heart pounding. When you returned, he sat on the couch, patting his thigh.
You hesitated only a second before walking over, the familiar pull settling in your chest as you moved closer to him.
He pulled you over his lap and his palm moved from your lower back to your ass.
The first smack landed before you could respond and you gasped.
Another smack, this one on the left. The lace of your panties offered zero protection. If anything, the thin fabric made it worse.
"You're going to throw that dress away," Jaafar said, with another smack. "You're not going to wear it. You're not going to save it. You're not going to give it to anyone."
"Yesβ" Smack. "βyes! Three!"
His hand soothed over your heated skin, and you moaned at the gentle touch after the sharp pain. Then his fingers dipped lower, sliding between your thighs.
Your arousal was soaking through your panties. You couldn't deny it or couldn't hide it. Your body had betrayed you completely.
"Please what?" His fingers pressed harder, rubbing slow circles against your clit through the damp lace. "Please stop or please keep going?"
"Keep going. Please keep going."
He pulled his hand away, and you whined at the loss. Then his palm connected with your ass again, harder than before. The sharp crack echoed through the room.
"That's not how this works." His voice had gone rough. "You don't get to dress like a slut and then get rewarded for it."
"Are you?" Another smack. "Are you actually sorry?"
"Yes! I won'tβI won't wear it again!"
"Good." His hand slid back down, fingers pushing your panties aside to stroke through your slick folds. "But you're still going to learn your lesson."
He teased you mercilessly. His fingers worked your clit with expert precision, building you higher and higher.
Your hips bucked against his thigh, seeking more friction, more pressure. You were so close, so fucking close
You groaned in frustration, thighs trembling.
"Please, Jaafar, I needβ"
"You need to learn." He helped you stand, then guided you to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs.
You could feel the hard length of him through his jeans. You rocked your hips against him.
His hands gripped your waist, holding you still.
"Uh-uh. You don't get to cum yet."
"You can and you will when I say you can."
You made a sound somewhere between a whine and a sob. Every nerve in your body screamed for release.
"Tell me what you're going to do with that dress," Jaafar said.
"And... and I'm sorry I bought it. I'm sorry I tried to wear it. I'm sorry Iβ"
He cut you off with a kiss, his mouth claiming yours. You melted into him, hands grabbing on his shirt. When he pulled back, you were both breathing hard.
"Good girl," he murmured.
Your heart swelled at the name.
"Now." He lifted you slightly, making quick work of his belt and zipper. "Ride me."
You didn't need to be told twice. You rose up on your knees, tugging your panties to the side while he released himself from his boxers.
The thick head of his cock pressed against your entrance, and you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch.
The stretch was perfect. You were so wet that you took him easily, your body opening around him.
He filled you completely, hitting that spot deep inside that made your toes curl.
"Fuck," you breathed, bracing your hands on his shoulders.
He gripped your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that made your breath catch.
You rolled your hips slowly at first, savoring the way he filled you completely.
His hands tightened when you tried to speed up, forcing you to maintain the agonizingly pace he'd set.
"That's it," he murmured, watching your face intently as you moved. "Take what you need."
The friction against your clit and each upward stroke of his cock inside you dragged against that sweet spot.
You whimpered, trying to angle yourself just right to get more pressure, but his grip kept you exactly where he wanted you.
"You can," he interrupted, his voice rough with restraint. One hand slid up to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to make your back arch. "You're going to ride me just like this until I say otherwise."
You moaned as he guided your movements with his firm hands on your hips, every drag of his dick sending sparks through your oversensitive body.
The pleasure built slowly, each thrust winding the tension tighter in your core until you were trembling with the effort of holding back.
His eyes never left yours, watching every flicker of desperation cross your face with possessive satisfaction.
"Almost there, baby," he coaxed, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your hips. The praise sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your walls fluttering around him. "But not yet."
You sobbed his name, your thighs burning with the effort of maintaining the torturous pace.
The room smelled of sex (I'm cringing) and his cologne, the sounds of skin against skin and your ragged breathing filling the space between his growls.
He was everywhere. In you, on you and you'd never felt more owned in your life.
"Let me cum. Please let me cum."
He considered it for a moment, those dark eyes looking into yours. Then his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit. He pressed down, rubbing firm circles.
Your orgasm crashed through you in waves, your walls clenching around him. He followed moments later, spilling into you growing, his fingers making bruises into your hips.
You collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing hard. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. For a long moment, neither of you moved.
Then you lifted your head, glancing at the clock on the wall.
Jaafar's hand stroked up your spine. "What about it?"
"We missed it. We were supposed to be there twenty minutes ago."
You pulled back to look at him and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth.
"You knew we were going to miss it," you realized.
"I wasn't letting you leave in that dress."
"You could have just saidβ"
"I did say." His hand cupped your face.
"Obviously." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'd rather have you to myself anyway."
You snuggled back against his chest, tracing patterns on him. The party would have been loud and crowded.
"I love you," you murmured.
His arms tightened around you. "I love you too, baby."
