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I love, love on full display.
If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) dir. Barry Jenkins
janet jackson

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Distant Lover
Summary: Smoke goes for a late night drive to ease his mind. The radio plays a record that has Smoke in his feels.
Warnings: Fluff. Angst if you squint. 1970s AU Smoke x Annie
The Chevy C/K sat beneath a leaning pecan tree at the edge of the road, engine off, windows rolled halfway down. Mississippi night pressed close from every side. Thick. Damp. Full of insects crying out in the dark fields beyond the ditch line. Smoke had one arm hanging outside the driverâs window, his cigarette burning between his fingers while the radio glowed green across the dashboard.Â
Marvin Gayeâs voice filled the cab like the smoke from his cigarette. Smooth. Hurting. Reaching.Â
When you left, you took all of me with youâŚ
Smoke shut his eyes.Â
The song had been playing for damn near seven minutes already, but he couldnât make himself turn the dial. Couldnât move. Every word felt aimed straight at his chest like Marvin was somewhere in the dark talking only to him.Â
Smoke leaned his head back against the seat and exhaled through his nose. Annieâs face kept rising up behind his eyelids anyway. The look she had given him before he walked outta that house. She didnât get loud or scream. That wouldâve been easier to take.Â
Nah.Â
It was the disappointed quiet that stayed on a man longer than a shout ever could. His thumb rubbed against the steering wheel while the strings climbed higher in the song. The ache in Marvinâs voice made the inside of the truck feel too small all of a sudden.Â
Smoke thought about Annie standing in that kitchen earlier, yellow dress tied around her waist while grease popped in the skillet. Earth, Wind, & Fire had been playing from the radio on the counter. Sheâd asked him something simple. Asked if he was gonna be home tomorrow evening or running around with Stack again.Â
Shouldâve been an easy answer.Â
Instead, he got sharp with her. Started talking like she was tryna control him when really all she wanted was time with her husband.Â
Now here he sat in the dark like a fool while Marvin Gaye sang every feeling heâd been too hardheaded to say out loud. Smoke dragged the cigarette deep, then flicked it out of the open window into the treeline. His jaw tightened.Â
The radio crackled faintly.Â
BabyâŚbaby, pleaseâŚ
âDamn,â Smoke whispered to himself.Â
His throat burned suddenly, and it wasnât from the cigarette. It was from truth.Â
Because the song wasnât just about missing somebody. It was about realizing too late that your pride done carries you someplace empty. And the longer he sat there, the more he could picture Annie alone in that house. Probably curled on that sofa with her arms folded under herself. Probably pretending she wasnât waiting for headlights to pull back into the front yard.Â
That woman loved him down to the marrow.Â
Stayed with him through nightmares, bad moods, long silences, and hands that shook some nights when sleep wouldnât come right. Annie knew parts of him nobody else got close enough to touch, and somehow she still looked at him with those beautiful pools of brown like he was the best thing to ever enter her life. Especially when she ainât need him. She chose him.Â
Smoke swallowed hard and looked down at the keys hanging from the ignition. Marvinâs voice climbed again, ragged and pleading, stretching across the night air like somebody refusing to let go.Â
A slow exhale left Smokeâs chest. Then, he nodded to himself.Â
âAight,â he spoke quietly. âAight.âÂ
He reached forward and turned the key. The truck rumbled alive beneath him while the song played low through the speakers. Gravel cracked under the tires as he pulled back onto the road, headlights cutting through the dark Mississippi trees.Â
Back toward home.Â
Back toward Annie.Â
The backroads home stretched long beneath the Chevy tires. Two narrow ribbons of black cutting through the Delta while Marvin kept singing through the speakers. WDIA mustâve known what he was going through because they played Distant Lover again for those that missed it the first time. Smoke drove with one hand on the wheel and the other rested against his thigh, thumb tapping slow against his Wrangler jeans every now and then to the melody.Â
The smell of wet red clay dirt drifted through the open windows along with honeysuckle and something green from the fields. Every so often, the headlights caught the silver flash of frogs leaping across the road or the pale glow of rabbit eyes vanishing into the brush.Â
Smoke barely noticed any of it. His mind stayed on Annie. Stayed on the curve of her hips earlier that evening. The hurt she tried to hide in her voice. The way she had gone silent after he snapped at her.Â
That had followed him all night.Â
The truck bounced lightly over uneven pavement while he reached forward and turned the radio up just a little more. Marvin sounded torn clean open now.Â
But every moment that I spend with youâŚI treasured it like it was precious jewels, oh, babyâŚ
Smoke let out a dry breath through his nose.Â
âYeah,â he muttered to himself. âI hear you.âÂ
His hand tightened around the wheel. Truth was, heâd been carrying too much lately and letting it spill onto the wrong person. Stack had noticed it too. The short fuse. The pacing. The way Smoke has started sleeping less again. Some nights Annie would wake up and find him sitting on the edge of the bed staring into darkness like he forgot where he was.Â
But, Annie never pushed. Never made him feel weak for it.Â
She just stayed.Â
That woman had held him together more times than he can count. And he knew better than to take that kind of love lightly. By the time he turned onto their dirt road, the cigarette smell had faded from his shirt some, replaced by night air pouring through the cab. The house came into view between the trees. Warm yellow light glowed through the front windows.Â
Smokeâs chest tightened at the sight.Â
Home.Â
The truck rolled to a stop beside the porch with a crunch of gravel. Smoke cut the engine, but this time he didnât sit there thinking. Didnât stall. Marvin was still singing quietly while Smoke reached over. And shut the radio off altogether.Â
Something I wanna sayâ
The porch light buzzed overhead while he climbed out the truck. Crickets screamed loud in the grass. Somewhere deeper in the fields, a blues guitar drifted faint through the dark from somebodyâs radio a mile off.Â
Smoke walked toward the house slowly at first, Red Wing work boots heavy against the dirt path.Â
Then quicker. Like his body already knew where peace was waiting.
The screen door creaked when he opened it. Inside, the house smelled like grease, cocoa butter, and the tiniest trace of Annieâs perfume still hanging in the airâAvon Occur! A single lamp lit the living room beside the sofa.Â
And there she was.Â
Curled beneath one of the afghans in her yellow house dress, asleep on her side with one arm tucked beneath her cheek.Â
Smoke stopped right there in the doorway.Â
His entire face softened.Â
Annie looked like sheâd tried to stay awake for him. The television flickered silently across her brown skin while a magazine rested half-open near her hip. Her bare feet peeked out beneath the blanket, toenails painted deep orange-red. A color Annie called grapefruit.Â
Smoke swallowed hard.Â
Lord.Â
He stood there for a long second just looking at her breathing. Then, he crossed the room quietly. The floor creaked beneath his weight, but Annie only stirred a little when he crouched beside the sofa. Her forehead pinched faintly like she could feel him there even in sleep.Â
Smoke reached out and brushed his knuckles against her ankle beneath the blanket.Â
âBaby,â he said with a whisper.Â
Annie blinked away gradual, eyes still cloudy with sleep. For a second, she just stared at him like she wasnât sure if he was really there.Â
Then, her expression shifted. She wasnât angry. No attitude. Just tired hurt. And somehow, that felt worse. Smoke lowered his eyes briefly before looking back at her.Â
âIâm sorry.âÂ
The words came rough. Real rough. Like they scraped his throat coming out.Â
Annie remained quiet, watching him carefully from beneath sleepy lashes while the television light danced across both their faces. Smoke rested his forearms against his knees and shook his head once.Â
âYou ainât deserve how I talked to you earlier.â His voice stayed low and steady. âI was wrong.âÂ
Annie looked at Smoke for a long moment before she pushed herself up against the arm of the sofa. The afghan slipped down into her lap, yellow fabric wrinkled beneath it, and Smoke could see where sleep had pressed lines into her cheek.Â
Her eyes stayed on him the whole time. Tired eyes. Pretty eyes. Eyes that had watched him leave and still hoped heâd come back through the door anyway.Â
Cicadas cried outside beyond the screen windows.Â
Finally, Annie spoke.Â
âYou know what hurt me the most?âÂ
Her voice came quiet from sleep, thick and warm around the edges, but there was ache sitting beneath every word.Â
âIt wasnât even what you said.âÂ
Smokeâs jaw flexed.Â
Annie pulled the blanket closer around herself and looked down at her hands for a second before meeting his eyes again.Â
âItâs how fast you pulled away from me.âÂ
That landed hard. Smoke felt it straight through the center of his chest.Â
Annie shook her head lightly, swallowing before she continued.Â
âI asked you one little thing, Elijah.âÂ
The sound of his name in her mouth always did something to him. Especially like this. Hurt. Honest.Â
âAll I wanted to know was if my husband was gonâ be home with me tomorrow.â Her eyes glistened faint under the lamp light. âAnd you looked at me like I was tryna trap yaâ.â
Smoke dropped his gaze to the floor.
Because she was right. Every bit of right.Â
âI know you been carryinâ things,â Annie continued carefully. âI know some days still get heavy for you. I ainât blind to that.â She pressed her lips together briefly. âBut baby, you shut me out so fast lately.âÂ
The room felt smaller suddenly. Closer. Smoke rubbed a hand slowly over his mouth, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.Â
âI ainât mean to.âÂ
Annie gave a tiny sad smile at that.
âI know you ainât mean to.âÂ
And somehow, that made it worse too. Because she understood him so well.Â
Too well.Â
Smoke looked up at her finally, eyes dark beneath tired lids.Â
âI justâŚâ He exhaled hard through his nose. âFeels like every damn thing been pullinâ at me lately. Stack needinâ me for this and that. Folks actinâ crazy at the shop. Money. Bills. Nightmares still crawlinâ up on me outta nowhere.â He shook his head once. âAnd then you ask me somethinâ simple and my mind hear it wrong.âÂ
Annie listened without interrupting him. Smokeâs voices lowered further.Â
âLike Iâm failing somewhere.âÂ
That made her expression soften immediately.Â
âOh, baby.âÂ
She reached for him instinctively. Like she always did. Her fingers slid into his hand, warm and familiar, and Smoke looked down at them joined together like he needed the reminder.Â
Annie squeezed gently.Â
âYou think wantinâ my husband home means you failinâ me?âÂ
Smoke didnât answer right away. That silence answered enough. Annieâs face crumpled just a little around the eyes before she shook her head.Â
âNo.â Her thumb stroked slowly across his knuckles. âNo, honey. That ainât what I be sayinâ to you at all.âÂ
Smoke finally looked back at her. Annieâs voice turned softer. A deep southern softness that wrapped around bruises.Â
âI miss you even when you standinâ right in front of me sometimes.âÂ
That nearly broke him.Â
âYou leave before the sun come up. Come home carryinâ the whole world in your shoulders. Half the time you staring off somewhere else even when Iâm talkinâ to you.â Her eyes searched his face carefully. âAnd I know you tryinâ. Lord knows I do. But sometimes I just want my man with me. Thatâs all.âÂ
Smokeâs throat worked hard. Annie shifted closer on the sofa, blanket falling aside completely now. Her hand slid up his wrist until she could touch the side of his face.Â
âYou ainât gotta carry everything alone.âÂ
The roughness in Smokeâs face cracked a little then. Just enough for her to see it. He leaned into her palm without thinking twice.
Tired.Â
So damn tired.Â
âI donât know how to stop sometimes,â he admitted.Â
Annieâs eyes watered immediately at the honesty in that.Â
âWellâŚâ She gave the smallest trembling smile. âMaybe you start by coming home sooner.âÂ
A short breath escaped Smoke then, relief touching him for the first time all night. He turned his head and pressed his mouth into the center of her palm.Â
âI can do that.âÂ
Annieâs fingers tugged gently on his kinky hair at the base of his neck, holding him there.Â
âI donât need perfect, Eli,â she whispered. âI just need you.âÂ
I just need you.Â
The words settled over him like Sunday morning light.Â
Smoke looked at Annie like he was trying to hold onto every piece of her at once. Her hand still rested against his face, thumb brushing lightly near the corner of his beard.
Then, Annie spoke again.
âAnd the babies need you too.âÂ
Smokeâs eyes lowered immediately.Â
Annieâs voice remained gentle.
âAminah been askinâ if you gonâ make it to her school singing next week.â A tiny smile touched her mouth despite everything. âShe practiced that whole little song in front the mirror three times today.âÂ
That pulled something deep in Smokeâs chest.Â
Annie continued softly. âMicah carried your work boots through the house this evening talkinâ âbout he wanna be just like his daddy.â She shook her head faintly, amused through the sadness. âAlmost busted his little behind over them heavy things.âÂ
Smoke huffed quietly through his nose at that, emotion climbing hard into his throat now.Â
âAnd ImaniâŚâ Annieâs face softened all over. âThat baby hear your truck before anybody else do. Every evening she wobble straight to the window lookinâ for you.âÂ
Lord.Â
Smoke shut his eyes briefly.Â
Too much love sittinâ in one house waitinâ on him.Â
Too much trust.Â
His calloused hand came up to cover Annieâs where it rested against his cheek, holding it there while he fought to steady himself. When he opened his eyes again, they looked wetter than before.Â
âAinât no good at this talkinâ shit,â he admitted.Â
Annie almost smiled. âI know.âÂ
Smoke shook his head once, breathing rough through his nose.Â
âBut I am sorry, Annie girl.â His voice dropped deeper. Honest. Stripped clean. âFor tonight. For pulling away. For makinâ you feel alone when you ainât supposed to.â He swallowed hard. âYou my wife, Annie.âÂ
The way he said it sounded sacred without trying to.
Final.Â
âYou hear me?âÂ
Annie nodded slowly, eyes shining. Smoke leaned closer, forearms resting against her knees while his thumb stroked the side of her hand.Â
âI love this house.â His gaze drifted around the room briefly before returning to her. âLove our babies. Love hearing yaâll runninâ âround here actinâ wild.â A tired smile touched him for half a second. âLove knowinâ you waitinâ on me.â His jaw flexed. âI justâŚâ He searched for the words carefully. âSometimes I get so wrapped up making sure everybody straight that I forget the whole reason I work so damn hard is already here.âÂ
Annieâs eyes softened so much it almost hurt to look at her. She reached for him again immediately, rubbing her hand across the broad span of his back beneath his shirt. Strong back. Working manâs back. Carrying too much all the time.Â
âYou donât gotta prove your worth every second of the day, Eli.âÂ
Smoke exhaled shakily.Â
Her fingers moved steady up and down his spine while his own hand slid across her thigh absentmindedly beneath the blanket. Slow strokes. Familiar strokes. Grounding strokes. Built from years together.Â
They stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other. Years sitting inside those looks.Â
War.Â
Babies.Â
Hard winters.
Bills folded on kitchen counters.
Slow dancing in socks.
Crying together in the darkness.Â
Holding each other through every version of life they survived.Â
Smoke stared at Annie like he still couldnât believe she chose him. And Annie looked back like sheâd choose him every single time again.Â
Then, Smoke leaned forward. His hand slid from her thigh up to her waist while he pressed his forehead lightly against hers first, eyes closing briefly as if he needed to feel close before anything else.Â
Then, he kissed her.Â
Deep. It wasnât ushed. It wasnât heated for the sake of heat.Â
It was needed.
A kiss a man gives when he finally comes home to himself. Annie melted into him immediately with a soft sound against his mouth, her fingers curling tighter at the back of his neck while Smoke held her close enough to feel her heartbeat through the thin yellow fabric. He kissed her like apology. Like relief. Like gratitude. Like a man worn thin by the world finally reaching the only place that ever made him feel whole again.Â
When the kiss finally broke, Annie rested her forehead against his, noses brushing lightly while both of them breathed the same warm air between them. Smokeâs hands remained at her waist, thumbs brushing against the fabric gathered there like he still needed reassurance she was really in front of him.Â
Annie smiled first. Small. Sleepy. Full of love.Â
âCome to bed, baby.âÂ
Smoke looked at her for another second before nodding once.
âYeah.âÂ
Annie brushed one last kiss against the corner of his mouth before standing from the sofa. The afghan slid down behind her while she stretched lightly, yellow dress pulling across her hips and thighs beneath the dim living room lamp.Â
Smoke watched her the whole way.Â
Lord, he loved that woman.Â
Annie glanced back at him halfway down the hall, catching him staring, that tired little smile returned again.Â
âDonât sit out here brooding all night neither.âÂ
A faint grin tugged at Smokeâs mouth then.Â
âYes maâam.âÂ
Annie shook her head softly at him and disappeared into their bedroom, leaving behind the scent of her perfume, cocoa butter, and home.Â
Smoke stayed on the couch another minute after Annie left.Â
Just breathing. Settling himself.Â
He leaned forward slowly, elbows resting on his knees while he rubbed the back of his neck with both hands.Â
Provider.Â
Protector.Â
Husband.Â
Father.Â
The weight of those things never left him. But tonight reminded him why he carried it in the first place.Â
Smoke stood finally and cut the television off. Then, he reached over and cut the lamp light. Darkness settled through the living room except for the kitchen light glowing faint down the hall.Â
The old wood floors creaked beneath his boots while he moved quietly toward the childrenâs room.Â
The door sat cracked open already.Â
Inside, moonlight spilled pale blue through thin curtains laying across toys scattered near the wall and little shoes kicked carelessly beside the dresser.Â
Smoke paused in the doorway.Â
Aminah and Micah were sprawled across the bunk beds without a worry in the world. Micah slept on the bottom bunk flat on his back, one skinny leg hanging halfway over the mattress while one of his comic books rested open on his chest. The Jungle Action Comic Series âPantherâs Rage.â Uncle Stack picked up from some comic shop in Atlanta on one of his business trips. Aminah slept above him curled beneath her blanket with one long braid hanging over the edge of the bed.Â
Smoke shook his head lightly at the sight. Then, his eyes moved toward the crib in the corner.Â
Imani. Fast asleep with her tiny fists tucked near her cheeks.Â
Smokeâs entire expression softened again. He crossed the room carefully, every movement quieter so he wouldnât wake them. First, he stopped beside Micah, lifting the comic gently from the boyâs chest before laying it on the floor nearby. Smoke bent and pressed a kiss against Micahâs forehead.Â
âLove you, boy.â He whispered.Â
Micah only smacked his lips softly in his sleep.Â
Smoke moved to the top bunk next. Aminah stirred faintly when he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, but she settled once he kissed her temple.Â
âThat my girl.â He whispered.Â
Then, he made his way to the crib.Â
Imani looked so small sleeping there. Her curls spread against the little pillow while the moonlight touched her round cheeks. Smoke rested both hands on the front rail and just looked at her for a second, emotion rising up all over again before he leaned down carefully. He kissed her forehead.Â
Imani sighed in her sleep.Â
Smoke closed his eyes at the sound.Â
Lord, thank you.
When he straightened again, he stood there another moment looking over all three of his babies together.Â
His family.Â
His whole damn heart sleeping inside one room.
Then, he pulled the bedroom door nearly shut behind him before heading toward the back room where Annie waited.Â
And the second Smoke stepped inside and saw his wife sitting there against the headboard with her hair wrapped up and her yellow dress slipping off one shoulder, something inside him settled completely.
Her eyes dropped immediately to his boots. Then to the dirt along the cuffs of his jeans.Â
One brow lifted.
âNo outside clothes in bed. Smoke.âÂ
The firmness in her sleepy voice made him grin before he could help it.Â
There she go.
Back to herself.Â
Back to them.Â
Smoke leaned one shoulder against the doorway and chuckled low in his chest.Â
âYes, maâam.âÂ
Annie pointed lazily toward the hamper near the dresser without another word. Smoke laughed softly through his nose and obeyed.Â
He unlaced his boots first and set them neatly by the wall before peeling off his socks. Then came the jeans, heavy belt clinking softly in the quiet room, followed by his faded T-shirt. Warm brown skin stretched over muscle, old scars cutting pale against his chest and shoulders from another life Annie never judged him for.Â
She watched him the entire time. Not even trying to hide it. Smoke caught her staring and smirked.
âYou supposed to be sleep.â
Annie settled deeper into the pillows.
âYou supposed to be listening.âÂ
That made him laugh again.Â
Lord.Â
Smoke tossed his clothes in the hamper and headed into the small bathroom connected to their room. Annie listened to the familiar sounds while fighting sleep. Running water. Cabinet creaking open. Toothbrush bristles against teeth.Â
Domestic sounds.Â
Marriage sounds.
Sounds you stop noticing until one night theyâre missing.Â
Smoke washed his face, letting cool water clear the last of the heaviness from his mind. When he looked up afterward, droplets clung to his beard and lashes.Â
For the first time all day, he looked calm.Â
By the time he came back into the bedroom, Annieâs eyes were half closed. Still waiting on him anyway.Â
That hit him straight in the chest too.Â
Smoke crossed the room and reached over to switch the lamp off. Moonlight poured through the curtains in silver strips.Â
The mattress dipped beneath his weight when he climbed in beside her.Â
Instantly, Annie moved closer. Like muscle memory. Her head found his chest while one arm draped across his stomach beneath tue blanket. One strong arm pulled her snug against him while the other rested beneath his head. Annieâs fingertips slid slowly down the ridges of his abdomen, absentmindedly and sleepy. Smoke lowered his mouth to the top of her wrapped hair and kissed her there.
Long. Lingering.
âI love you,â he whispered into the darkness.Â
Annie hummed softly against his chest.Â
âLove you too, Elijah.âÂ
The fan whirled overhead and the crickets cried outside. Annieâs breathing started slowing little by little against him while Smoke stared up into the dark ceiling, holding his wife close and listening to the peace of his own home around him.Â
Then came a soft knock.Â
 Both of them blinked.Â
The bedroom door creaked open before either of them could answer.Â
Aminah stood there in her nightgown holding sleepy little Imani against her hip the best she could. Micah lingered beside her rubbing one eye with his fist, blanket dragging behind him across the floor.Â
Smoke lifted his head immediately.Â
âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
Aminah looked exhausted.Â
âImani woke up crying,â she whispered. âThen Micah got scared âcause of the thunder.âÂ
Right on cue, distant thunder rolled across the Mississippi sky.Â
Annie sighed softly against Smokeâs chest.Â
Because of course.Â
Smoke pushed himself up onto one elbow while Micah shuffled further into the room.Â
âI-I think thereâs a m-monster in the closet.â Micah admitted miserably.Â
Smoke looked at Annie.
Annie looked at Smoke.
Then both of them smiled at the exact same time.Â
Family.Â
âAinât no monsters in this house,â Smoke said, voice groggy as he held his arm out towards Micah. âCome on here, man.âÂ
Micah hurried over, climbing onto the bed from Smokeâs side while dragging his blanket behind him. The mattress bounced beneath his little knees before he collapsed dramatically beside his father with a tired sigh.Â
Annie laughed softly under her breath.Â
âAminah, baby, bring your sister here before your little arms fall off.âÂ
Aminah nodded sleepily and crossed the room carefully with Imani tucked against her shoulder. Smoke reached out automatically to steady the baby while Annie pulled the blankets back further.Â
âLay her beside me,â Annie whispered.Â
Imani fussed faintly when Aminah lowered her into the bed, tiny face scrunched up with leftover tears and sleepiness, but the second Annie gathered her close against her chest, the baby settled back down.Â
Safe.Â
Imaniâs little hand grabbed hold of Annieâs nightdress while Annie kissed her curls gently.
âThere we go,â she whispered.Â
Smoke watched the sight from the other side of the bed.Â
His whole world right there. Right here.
Aminah crawled in next, slipping beneath the covers beside Annie and Imani while Micah sprawled halfway across Smokeâs side already fighting sleep again.Â
The bed suddenly became crowded as hell. Legs everywhere. Blankets twisted. One of Micahâs feet shoved directly against Smokeâs thigh.Â
And still, somehow, it felt perfect.Â
Annie looked over at Smoke in the darkness, amusement flowing in her tired eyes.Â
âWell,â she whispered. âSo much for us having room tonight.âÂ
Smoke snorted quietly.Â
âI sleep better with yaâll in here anyway.âÂ
That made Annie smile.Â
The storm rolled deeper outside, rain beginning to tap lightly against the windows while the fan turned overhead carrying cool air through the room.Â
Smoke reached across the bed until his hand found Annieâs beneath the blankets.Â
Their fingers laced together naturally.Â
Aminah was already asleep curled against Annieâs shoulder. Micah had one arm flung across Smokeâs stomach, knocked out almost instantly. And little Imani breathed tiny warm breaths against Annieâs chest while thunder rumbled far off across the Delta night.Â
Smoke stared up at the ceiling for another minute listening to all of it.Â
Rain.
His children breathing.Â
His wife beside him.Â
Home.Â
Then Annie squeezed his hand once in the darkness.
And Smoke finally let himself rest.
Toni Morrison. Photo: Richard Avedon. Newsweek. March 30, 1981
Praying that $1500 randomly comes to you when you need it the most this year.
Okay inflation is crazy.
We bumping up the price to $15,000 for 2026.
đ¤đ˝
Natalie Desselle and Halle Berry in B*A*P*S (1997) directed by Robert Townsend, costume design by Ruth E. Carter

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
me when i find other black girls on tumblr:
Stay Where I Left You
Summary: Zariah Saint-James is everywhere. Runways. Campaigns. Magazine covers. Private dinners packed with people rich enough to hide their intentions behind polished smiles and designer tailoring. The world knows her face before they know her voice, and lately her career is moving faster than she can keep up with.
Smoke lives in a different kind of world.
Warnings: Smoke x BRATTY OC SMUT. Spoiled, rich dark skin baddie x Daddy Dom/Strict!Smoke. Heavy dirty talk. Very descriptive smut. Spanking. Discipline.
[I didnât tag since I am currently working on a new taglist. Apologies in advance. Wanted to give you guys something while I work on these updates!]
The car drops her a half step past the entrance like the driver doesnât want to block the curb too long. Zariah steps out into a slice of low overhead light and the door shuts behind her with an expensive thud. The building doesnât announce itself. There was no line, no loud music spilling out. Just a matte black door and a man who looks like heâs part of the wall until you meet his eyes.Â
Zariah gives her name. The man checks if once, then again without looking like heâs checking anything at all, and opens the door.Â
Inside, things felt warmer. Thicker. Not quite music, more like a pulse under everything. Velvet seatings. Dark wood. People who speak in half-voices and donât repeat themselves.Â
Zariah pauses just inside, long enough to take it in. It was just a breath, nothing obvious. Her shoulders settle into their usual line, chin level, eyes forward. Zariah belongs in rooms. That part is muscle memory.Â
A hand touches her elbow lightly, her spine goes rigid.Â
âSaint-James.âÂ
Zariah turns. Malik. Heâs familiar enough to ease the first second of it. Zariahâs seen him at fittings, at a campaign wrap, once backstage where he talked too smoothly to be anyoneâs assistant. Tonight, he looked sharper, but same smile though. Same confidence that assumes a yes before itâs given.Â
âYou made it,â he says.Â
âMm.â A small nod. âFor a minute.âÂ
Malik steps in beside her, hazel eyes boring into hers, not blocking, just aligning.Â
âCome on. Iâll show you around.âÂ
Zariah lets him guide the direction not the movement. Thereâs a difference. He knows people here. Thatâs useful. He speaks in low tones as they move, greeting without stopping, names traded like small coins. When he introduces Zariah, his hand rests at the small of her back for a second too long, then lifts.Â
âThis is Zariah. Saint-James.âÂ
Heads turn. Not many. Enough.Â
She offers the version of a smile that doesnât invite questions.Â
âHi.âÂ
A woman in a silk slip dress made by some foreign designer studies her, then softens, âI know your face.âÂ
Zariah dips her chin once. âThat happens.âÂ
A glass appears in her hand without her asking. She doesnât drink it yet. She holds it, lets the cool settle into her palm. Malik leans in to say something near her ear. His breath brushes too close. Zariah tilts her head just enough to hear without giving him the rest of the space.Â
âGood room,â he says. âKeep your face around.â
âMm.â She takes a small step forward, easing the distance. âIâm not staying long, Malik.âÂ
They drift to a cluster near the bar. Four men, maybe five. Conversation tight. Phrases that loop around meaning instead of landing on it. Numbers, but not spoken like numbers. Zariah listens without looking like sheâs listening. Thatâs a skill she learned early. One of them glances at her, then at Malik. A beat. A question that never becomes a question.Â
Malik answers it anyway.
âSheâs good,â he says, easy. âShe with me.âÂ
One of the men drags their eyes over Zariah.
âThis you, Malik? Whatever happened to that French model you had on your arm during fashion week?âÂ
âYou know that was all business,â Malik leans into Zariah, placing his hand on her lower back. âThis is Zariah Saint James. Sheâs gonna be the new face taking over the fashion industry. Ainât that right, baby?âÂ
Hums of approval circulated.
Zariah stills. Not a freeze. A correction. She turns her head, just enough to catch his eye. Her voice stays light, even.
âI came by myself, actually.â
It lands clean. No edge. No apology.Â
A couple of the men look away first. Malikâs smile doesnât falter, but it tightens at the corners.Â
âYeah,â he says, like he meant it that way. âFor a minute.âÂ
âFor a minute,â she repeats, and lifts the glass to her lips without drinking.Â
Zariah notices the details in the room now. How people stand angles instead of square. How no one laughs too loud. How eyes track movement without turning heads. This isnât a creative room. Not really. It wears the shape as a disguise but the weight under it is something else.Â
Malik introduces her again, this time to a man in a dark suit with a watch that probably costs more than what Zariah is worth. Older. White. The manâs gaze rests on her a fraction longer than it needs to.Â
âPleasure,â he says.Â
Zariah meets it, steady. âMm.âÂ
He smiles like that answer told him something.Â
Malikâs hand returns to her waist, guiding her half a step closer to the circle as if to anchor the introduction. She lets it sit there for a second, then shifts her weight, a small turn of her hips that leaves his hand with nowhere natural to land. It falls away.Â
âIâm gonna grab something,â she says, already moving.Â
Stay,â Malik whispers, soft enough that it could pass for a suggestion.Â
Zariah doesnât stop.Â
âIâll be right back.âÂ
At the bar, she can breath better. She sets the glass down untouched and rests her fingertips on the smooth marble of the bar top. Her reflection glides along the surface, broken by light. Zariah smoothes the line of her dress at her hip, more to ground herself than to adjust anything.Â
Her phone buzzed once. Zariah glanced at it. A text from a stylist about a call time tomorrow. She types back a quick answer, then locks the screen. Behind her, the private lounge continues like it didnât notice her stepping away.Â
Malik returns, closer than before. Zariah stiffens.
âYou good?â
âIâm fine.â Zariah keeps her gaze on the bar, then turns to Malik. âIâm heading out in a second.âÂ
âAlready?â Malik smiles, but thereâs something under it now. âYou just got here.âÂ
âI said a minute.â
Malik leans in again, voice low. âDonât do that, Zariah. Itâs a good look for you to be seen here. I called some connects. Got you on the listâŚâ
Zariah holds his gaze.Â
âIâve been seen.â
There was a pause. Malikâs eyes search her face like heâs trying to decide how far to push. It was making Zariah feel uncomfortable.Â
âCome meet one more person,â he says. âThen you can go.âÂ
Zariah considers it. Quick. The room presses at the edges of her awareness.Â
âOne,â she says.Â
Malik nods like he won something. They cross the floor again. This time, the path feels longer. Or maybe sheâs more aware of it. The man Malik wants her to meet stands near a corner where the ambiance is softer. He looks up as they approach, already informed.Â
âSaint James,â Malik says. Like heâs placing a piece on a board. âTold you.âÂ
The manâs eyes take her in without apology. Dark. Unreadable. A face so chiseled it could only be described as a plastic surgeonâs work.Â
âIâve seen you. That shoot with Alberto Rodriguez. Stunning. Versace.â
âThank you.â Her tone stays even.
âIâm Westley.â He smiles. âYouâre in the right room.â
Zariah meets that without returning it, âIâm in the room I walked into.âÂ
Malik laughs under his breath like she said something charming. The man doesnât laugh.Â
For a second, no one speaks.
ââŚwell. Itâs nice to finally meet you, Saint James. Hopefully the next time we meet, Itâs us working together.â
Zariah lets it sit. Then, she inclines her head, gives Westley a faint smile, small and final.
âIâm heading out.â
Malikâs hand ghosts at her back again, then stops when she doesnât slow. âIâll walk you.â
âNo, youâre good.â Zariah turns slightly, enough to keep it polite, not enough to invite him to follow. âI got it.â
Zadiah moves toward the door with the same pace she walked in with. Composed. The man at the door opens it before she reaches for the handle.Â
Outside, Zariah exhales, a real one this time, and steps onto the curb. For a second, she stands there, looking back at the black door like it might explain itself if she gave it long enough.Â
It doesnât.Â
Zariah pulls her phone out to call her driver, thumb hovering over the screen. Then, she stills.Â
A small thought crosses her mind.Â
I shouldâve said something.
The ride back felt longer than it should have. Zariah sits angled toward the window, city lights dragging across the glass in streaks of gold and white. Her phone sat in her lap, the screen dark. She picked it up once, unlocked it, then locked it again without doing anything. Her reflection stared back at her faintly in the window. Same face. Same poise. But there was something tighter around her eyes now.Â
She exhales and leans back.Â
By the time the car pulls up, most of the lights in the surrounding units are off. Her driver tells her goodnight. Zariah answers without thinking and steps out, her heels landing soft against pavement. Inside, the elevator ride was short. Too short. She watches the LED numbers climb, arms folded loosely, thumb brushing over her wrist. Not nervous. JustâŚaware.Â
The elevator doors open. The hallway leading into the hall of her apartment building is dim, lined with soft recess lighting along the ceiling. Her steps are steady and cloaked by the hand-tuffted carpet runner in dark green as she walks to her door. Zariah reaches into her bag, pulls out her keys, and unlocks it.Â
The door opens with a hiss.Â
And the first thing she notices is the light. Itâs already on. It wasnât every light, but enough. The living room. The kitchen.Â
Heâs here.Â
Smoke is sitting on one end of her sectional, elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped. No TV. No phone. Just him. And that was enough to make her pause.Â
He looked up when she stepped in. Zariah pauses just past the foyer for half a second. Then, she sits her bag down on the coffee table.Â
âWhen did you get here?â She asked, proceeding to take off her heels like everything is normal.Â
Smoke doesnât answer right away. His eyes stay locked on her.Â
Thenâ
âWhere you come from?â
Flat. No extra weight in the words. Thatâs what makes it land hard. Zariah slips her other shoe off, placing them beneath the coffee table.Â
âOut.âÂ
A beat
âWith who?â
Zariah straightens, smoothing her dress down at her hips before turning to face him.Â
âSome people from work.âÂ
Smokeâs gaze doesnât break.Â
âWhat people?âÂ
Zariah tilts her head slightly, studying him now.Â
âWhy you askinâ like that?âÂ
Smoke leans back just enough to rest against the sectional, but his eyes remained glued to her like he was seeing past the guard she was trying to obtain.
âAnswer the question.â
Zariahâs jaw sets for a second.Â
âI told you. Work people.â
Silence. It stretched just enough to be felt.Â
Thenâ
âYou was at that lounge on Mercer.âÂ
It wasnât a question. Zariahâs eyes flicker once. She wasnât surprised. Just confirmation that she knew he would be keeping an eye on her location.Â
She folds her arms loosely.Â
ââŚYeah.â
âWho took you there?â
âMy driver dropped me off. I went by myself.â
Smokeâs gaze sharpens just a fraction.Â
âDonât do that.âÂ
Zariahâs brows pull together. âI just told youââ
âWho brought you in?â
His voice doesnât rise. It just tightens. Zariah exhales through her nose.
âA creative I know. Malik was there.â
Smoke leans forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees again.Â
âMalik.âÂ
Smoke repeats it like heâs placing it somewhere. Then, he looks back at Zariah.Â
âAnd you thought that was somewhere you should be.âÂ
There was no question in it. Zariah shifts her weight onto one leg.Â
âIâve been in places like that before.âÂ
âNo,â Smoke says, cutting through it. âYou havenât.â
That hit. Zariahâs arms drop from where they were closed. Her posture straightens.Â
âYou donât know every place Iâve been,â Zariah replies, voice firmer now.Â
âI know that one.âÂ
Zariah studies him, eyes narrowing slightly. âYou actinâ like I walked into something crazy, Smoke.âÂ
He holds her gaze. âYou did.âÂ
Zariahâs lips press together. For a second, she looks like she might push back harder.Â
âI was fine,â she says instead.
Smokeâs expression doesnât change. âNo, Z. You wasnât.â
Short. Final.Â
Zariahâs breath catches slightly, more from the certainty than the words themselves. She looks away for a second, then back at him.Â
âI handled myself. Like I always do.âÂ
The corner of Smokeâs mouth twitched. Enough to part his full lips and reveal silver slugs. He watched her with a slight squint of his eyes. Because he knew. He always knew.Â
âIâm sure you think you did, baby.â
That stung more than anything else heâd said.Â
Her chin lifts just a touch, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.Â
âI didnât do anything wrong.â
Silence again. This time more overbearing. Smoke leans forward more, closing some of the space between them without standing.Â
âLook at me.â Â
Zariahâs eyes snap back to his. She holds it.Â
âI am.âÂ
Then, Smoke asks, calm and direct. âHe put his hands on you?âÂ
Zariah stills. Her fingers curl slightly at her sides.Â
âIt wasnât like that.âÂ
Thatâs not an answer.Â
Smokeâs gaze doesnât waver.Â
âDid he touch you.âÂ
Zariah exhales. ââŚYeah.âÂ
Another pause.Â
âWhere.âÂ
Her jaw tightens.Â
âAt my back. My waist. He was justâguiding me.âÂ
Smoke nods once, slow. âGuiding you.âÂ
He repeats it, but it wasnât like he agrees.Â
Zariah shifts her weight again. âI moved. I corrected it.â
âI know you did.âÂ
That catches her off guard. Her brows lift slightly.Â
âYou know?âÂ
âI know how you move.â His tone hasnât changed, but something underneath it has. âAnd you still stayed.âÂ
There it is.Â
Zariahâs shoulders drop just a fraction.Â
âI was trying to leave without making it a thing.âÂ
Smoke sits back again, dragging a hand over his face once before letting it fall.
âYou already was a thing the second you walked in there.âÂ
Zariahâs gaze softens, just a little. She looks at him for a long second, then speaks quieter.Â
âI didnât know it was like that. That heâŚthat it was more than making connections. Helping my career.â
Smoke watches her. And for the first time, something shifts in his expression. Edged with something else. A softness rarely seen.
âI know you didnât, Z. Thatâs the problem.âÂ
Zariah exhales, slow. Her shoulders ease. She steps a little closer now, enough to close some of the distance.Â
âI hear you.â
Itâs quieter than anything sheâs said so far. Real. Smoke holds her gaze a moment longer. Then, he leans back against the sofa, one hand resting on his jaw.
âNext time,â he says, voice steady, âyou tell me where you goinâ.âÂ
Zariah nods once. ââŚOkay.â
She means it, but she looks away right after she says it, eyes drifting toward the kitchen like the conversation might loosen if she doesnât hold it.Â
It doesnât.Â
The sofa creaks as Smoke Stands. He steps toward her, closing the space she left between them. Zariahâs shoulders tighten just a fraction as he stops in front of her.Â
âDonât look away.âÂ
Smokeâs voice stays low and firm. Her eyes lift back to his, slow and steady. Smoke studies her for a second. Then, his hand comes up, fingers settling under her chin, thumb along the side of her jaw.Â
âLook at me when Iâm talkinâ to you.âÂ
Zariahâs breath shifts. She doesnât pull away.Â
âMkay,â she replies with a soft voice.Â
âYou walked into a space where nobody in there is who they say they are,â he says. âNot to you.âÂ
Zariah watches him, listening.
ââŚThat wasnât no industry lounge,â Smoke continues. âThatâs a place people use to meet when they donât want nothinâ traced back to âem. Deals get made in there that donât got nothinâ to do with clothes or cameras.â
Zariahâs brows pull together slightly. âI didnât hear anything like that.â
âYou wasnât supposed to,â he answers, just as even. âThatâs the point.âÂ
Zariahâs lips part, then press together again. Smokeâs thumb shifts against her jaw, grounding her attention back to him.Â
âAnd that nigga, Malik?â Smoke goes on. âHe ainât no creative you just âknowâ. He move with people who use faces like yours to get in rooms easier. To make things look clean.â
Zariahâs posture straightens. She exhales.Â
âHe didnât do anything to me. I wouldnât have let it get that far, Smoke. I had it under control,â she says, a little firmer. âAnd I didnât even expect to see him tonight. A friend of mine put in a word. IâŚI justâŚI figured it was just some exclusive party for A listers and I couldâI could walk in there andââ
âI didnât say he did anything.â Smoke cut her off. âI said he put you somewhere you shouldnât have been. And that friend? I wouldnât be surprised if they a part of it. So you need to cut them off.âÂ
Zariahâs gaze flickers, then steadies again.Â
Smoke leans in just slightly, enough to make sure sheâs locked in with him.Â
âIâm in this enough to know how that goes,â he says. âI seen how fast it turns. You walk in thinkinâ itâs one thing, and next thing you know you tied to somethinâ you donât even understand yet.â
Zariah swallows lightly. Smokeâs eyes stay on hers.Â
âAnd I donât play about whatâs mine.âÂ
Thereâs no rise to his voice. No dramatics. Just fact. Zariah feels that oneâs it sits heavy on her chest. Her fingers curl slightly at her sides, but she doesnât break eye contact. Smoke lets that hang for a second before continuing.Â
âSo listen to me,â he says. His hand drops from her chin, but his presence doesnât pull back. âWhen you go somewhere, you let me know first.âÂ
Clear.
âYou donât just show up anywhere off impulse. I donât care who invited you.âÂ
Zariah nods, lips scrunched up. âOkay.âÂ
âIf you walk into a spot and somethinâ feel off,â he continues, âyou donât stand there tryinâ to figure it out. You leave.âÂ
Zariahâs lips part slight like sheâs about to speak but she lets him finish.Â
âYou call me,â he says. âIâll come get you. I donât care where you at.â
Certainty.Â
âAnd if somebody put their hands on you,â Smoke adds, voice still low, âor make you feel any type of wayâŚâ
He paused, enough to let Zariah know heâs dead ass serious.Â
âYou tell me. And Iâll handle it. My way.âÂ
Zariahâs breath slows. âI will.âÂ
Smoke studies her, making sure.Â
âSay it again.âÂ
Zariahâs eyes stay on his. âIâll tell you.âÂ
Smoke hums, then he nods his head before leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheek, and ending with her lips. A soft peck that stirs her. Zariah breaks the kiss, exhales, then she looks at him.Â
âI didnât knowââ
âI know, baby girl. JustâŚlisten to me, okay? You know this shit triggers me when you go off doinâ shit that make me worried. Iâm serious, Z. Donât do this shit again.âÂ
She purses her lips, but ultimately gives him another kiss, falling into his big embrace that swallows her.
Correction.Â
Weeks pass. At first, Zariah tells herself Smoke is just being attentive. Protective. Present.Â
After the lounge incident, Smoke starts rearranging his life around hers in ways that donât announce themselves immediately. It begins small enough to almost feel thoughtful. He starts picking her up from late shoots instead of sending a driver. He waits outside fittings in black SUVs with the engine running while she changes out of couture and campaign makeup under bright studio lights. When she lands in another city for a show, heâs already there before she reaches baggage claim, one hand wrapped around a coffee cup, eyes scanning the terminal before they settle on her.Â
Smoke never makes a scene. Never acts possessive in public. Thatâs what makes it harder to argue with. To everyone around her, Smoke looks dependable. Solid. The type of man women brag about having.production assistants smile when he takes garment bags from their hands. Publicists relax when he quietly checks exits and entrances before an event. Designers greet him like they trust him instinctively, even when they donât know why.Â
And Zariah hates that part a little because heâs so good at it. Too good at it.Â
Her world keeps moving at full speed while his begins orbiting around it with frightening precision. Editorial spreads in Paris. Beauty campaigns in New York. Fashion week dinners packed with actors, athletes, stylists, investors, people who speak in air kisses and coded conversations. Zariah is everywhere lately. Her face is in windows three stories high. Magazine covers. Digital campaigns looping across giant screens downtown. And somehow, Smoke is always there now too.Â
Not beside her. Near her. Outside the room. At the car.Â
Watching.Â
Waiting.Â
The first few times, Zariah lets it go. She tells herself itâs temporary. That heâs going to go back to work doing what he does thatâs so top secret and get bored of all the glitz and glam. That heâs trying to make a point after what happened with Malik and the lounge. But the weeks stretch and instead of easing up, Smoke becomes more involved.Â
More structured.Â
He starts asking for schedules in advance. What event. Which hotel. Who invited her. Whoâs attending. What time she expects to leave.Â
Not interrogations.Â
Expectations.Â
And thatâs what starts irritating her. Because Zariah has spent her entire adult life moving independently through spaces exactly like these. She built her career on instincts, timing, reading energy, staying graceful under pressure. Men in fashion flirt. Men in entertainment hover. Wealthy people invite you places with hidden motives attached to every smile. She learned how to survive that years ago. So when Smoke starts appearing downstairs before she even calls for a car, something in her begins pushing back automatically.Â
She stops texting updates as quickly. Leaves details out. Answers questions vaguely.Â
âJust work.â
âA dinner.âÂ
âSomewhere in SoHo.âÂ
Nothing technically disrespectful. But it was enough for Smoke to notice sheâs testing the edges of what he said in that apartment weeks ago. And Smoke noticed everything. Especially patterns. Especially when someone starts moving different on purpose.Â
The irritation builds on both sides slowly, layered beneath long workdays and late nights. And the worst part is she canât tell where protection ends and control begins anymore.Â
Zariahâs up early, wrapped in a robe, hair slicked back into a bun, glass skin and fuzzy Louis Vuitton slippers on her pedicured feet. Sheâs standing at the kitchen counter with her phone propped against a glass of hot water with lemon and ginger. A call time gets pushed. A fitting added. A dinner penciled in. Her voice stays even, professional, the version of her that never slips.Â
âYeah, I can make that,â she says. âSend me the address.âÂ
She doesnât mention it to Smoke. Not when she hangs up. Not when she toasts her sourdough bread to add slices avocado and sliced smoked salmon. Not when she walks past the living room where Smoke is sitting, reading.Â
He glances up when she crosses. Zariah doesnât stop.Â
âI got a dinner tonight,â she says like itâs an afterthought. âBrand people.âÂ
Smoke nods, âwhat time?â
âEight.âÂ
âWhere.âÂ
Zariah takes a sip of her water.Â
âIâll text it.â
Smoke studies her for a second longer than usual. Then, nods again.Â
âAight.âÂ
And Zariah doesnât text it. Not at eight. Not at nine. Sheâs already dressed and out the door by the time the reminder crosses her mind, heels clicking down the hallway, phone buzzing in her hand with another message that isnât his.Â
When she comes back, Smokeâs in the same spot. Thatâs the first thing she notices. Not the fact that heâs there. The fact that he hasnât moved much.
Zariah steps in, sets her bag down, slips her heels off.Â
âYou been sittinâ there all day?â Zariah asks, light, like sheâs asking about the weather.Â
Smokeâs eyes lift to her. âWhere you just come from, Zariah.âÂ
Zariah walks past him, heading toward the kitchen. That little fancy plate of French food wasnât enough to settle her hunger. She considers ordering in some Pho from her favorite Vietnamese restaurant.Â
âI told you,â she says. âDinner.âÂ
âWith who.â
Zariah opens the fridge, bends over, little cocktail dress rising up, almost revealing no panties. She scans it like sheâs actually looking for something.Â
âPeople from the brand.âÂ
Smoke doesnât say anything right away. But his jaw ticks. Zariah pulls out a bottle of water, shuts the fridge, leans against the counter.Â
âYou ask a lot of questions,â she says, taking a sip.
Thereâs a small edge to it. A sassy little tone that reeks of an attitude that needs to be checked.Â
Smoke watches her unblinking.Â
âI asked you where, Zariah.âÂ
She shrugs one shoulder. âIt was in the city.â
Thatâs it. Thatâs all she gives him. And she knows it. Something stills in Smoke. Heâs locked. Smoke sets his phone down on the table beside him. Slow. Then, he stands. Zariah watches him this time. She doesnât look away. Smoke walks toward her, closing space like an imposing shadow. Zariah straightens a little as he stops in front of her. She braces her hand on the counter behind her. Smokeâs eyes narrow slightly, orbs darkened with frustration.Â
âYou ainât text me nothinâ.âÂ
Zariah takes a sip of her water, avoiding his eyes as if the vase across from her on the dining room table was more interesting.Â
âI was busy.âÂ
Smoke tilts his head. âI told you, Z. You go somewhere, you let me know.âÂ
Zariah lifts her gaze, chin lifting slightly. Defiantly.Â
âAnd I heard you.âÂ
There it is. That fucking tone.Â
Dismissal.
Smokeâs gaze tightens just a fraction. âBut you ainât do it.âÂ
Zariah shrugs, âI got there, everything was fine. It wasnât a big deal.âÂ
Smoke stepped in closer to where she was nearly pressed between his solid frame and the countertop behind her. Her breathing shifted but she checked it as best as she could.Â
âIt was to me.âÂ
Zariah rolls her eyes. She pushes off the counter, standing fully now.Â
âYou canât expect me to check in every time I step outside, Smoke,â she argues. âThatâs not how I move and you know that.âÂ
More edge now. More bite. Zariah knows sheâs pushing. Smoke watches her for a long second. Then, he exhales once through his nose.Â
âYou think thatâs what it is.âÂ
It wasnât a question.Â
Zariah folds her arms. âI think youâre doing too much.âÂ
The silence was heavy.Â
Then. âSay that again.âÂ
Zariah holds his gaze. Doesnât flinch.Â
âI said youâre doing too much.â
Smokeâs haha comes up, firm fingers gripping her jaw, turning her face just enough so she canât angle away.Â
âDonât do that.â Smoke said, low. Controlled yet deep.
âIâm just sayinââ
âNO,â Smoke cuts in, sharper. âYou talkinâ like what I said donât matter. And thatâs a problem for me.âÂ
Zariahâs eyes flash. âThatâs not what Iââ
âThatâs exactly what you doinâ.â Smokeâs grip tightens. âYou hear me them weeks ago. Loud and clear.âÂ
Zariahâs chest rises and falls a little quicker now.Â
âI did.âÂ
âBut you moved like you didnât.âÂ
Thereâs no way around that. Zariah looks at him, really looks this time. Thereâs something building in her too. It wasnât fear. It was friction.Â
âIâm not one of your operations,â she says. âYou donât get to run me like that.âÂ
Smoke scuffs. âAight.âÂ
He releases her jaw. Steps back half a step, and that almost feels worse.Â
âYou right,â Smoke says. And itâs too calm. âI donât run you.âÂ
Zariahâs shoulders ease slightly. But only for a second.Â
âWhich means,â Smoke continued, âyou make your own decisions.âÂ
Zariah watches Smoks cautiously now.Â
âAnd you deal with whatever come with âem. You donât call me. You donât tell me where you at. You donât move how I told you to moveââ
Smoke pauses. Not long.Â
âYou on your own with that.âÂ
Zariahâs brows pull together. âThatâs not what Iââ
âYou wanted independence,â he says, cutting in, still calm. âIâm givinâ it to you.âÂ
Zariah studies him.Â
This isnât him trick to control her. This is him stepping back. And that doesnât feel how she thought it would.Â
âYou serious?â She asks.Â
Smoke nods. âI donât chase grown decisions, ma. But donât stand in my face and act like what I said ainât carry weight.â
Zariah exhales. She folds her arms and juts that hip out. Lip poked. She looks at Smoke for a long second. Then, softer, but still holding onto herself:Â
âThatâs not what I was tryinâ to do.âÂ
Smoke cuts his eyes at her. Then, he walks off. Leaving Zariah fuming.Â
Zariah spends the rest of the evening like she lives alone. Thatâs the first thing that gets under Smokeâs skin.Â
JustâŚdismissal.Â
She moved through the luxury apartment with that polished calm of hers, never quite looking at him, never quite acknowledging the weight sitting in the space between them. She replies to texts on the sofa with one knee tucked under her, laughing softly at something on her screen, walks past him like heâs furniture.Â
Smoke says her name once.Â
Zariah hears it. He knows she hears it because her shoulders tighten for half a second. But, she keeps on walking. That does more than attitude ever could because now sheâs choosing it. And one trigger of Smokeâs, one thing that really ticks him offâbeing ignored. He watched her enter her bedroom. Smoke sits there another few seconds, jaw working once.Â
Then, he stands. No rush to it. He rolls his shoulders once, loosening the tension sitting there. Smoke reaches for the watch on his wrist and sets it on the side table. Neatly. That alone would tell her everything if she saw it. Smoke never tosses things. When he starts setting items aside with care, heâs making room for discipline. He walks to the kitchen, pours a glass of water, drinks half, sets it down. Runs both palms over his face, then drags one hand across the back of his neck.Â
Collecting himself. Not cooling off. Centering.Â
By the time he reaches the bedroom, the bathroom door is cracked open from the steam, he pushes the door open wider and steps inside. Zariah is standing in front of her vanity, fingers hooking the thin straps of her sleek black cocktail dress. She tugs one strap down her shoulder, exposing smooth dark skin inch by inch, the fabric whispering at her elbows while she twists to face the mirror, grabbing her hair to pile it high, pinning it loose but secure with a claw clip.Â
Smoke leans against the frame, hoody heavy against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest, fitted black tee stretching across his pecs. His eyes track every peel of fabric like he owns the view. Tension crackles thick from the kitchen standoff earlier, her defiance still simmering hot under her skin.Â
She sees him in the mirror, and now sheâs taking off her strapless lace bra and matching thong. Completely naked and glowing like her body was slathered in liquid gold. That little performance almost makes him smile.
Almost.Â
âYou done?â Smoke asks.Â
Her voice stays light. âWith what?âÂ
âWith this act you tryna put on to piss me off.âÂ
Zariah grabs a plum-colored silk robe from a wall mounted hook, hiding that beautiful body.Â
âIâm getting ready to shower. Then Iâm going to bed. I have a busy schedule tomorrow, Smoke.âÂ
Smoke closes the bedroom door. The click of the latch is small but it lands. Zariahâs fingers pause over the tie of her robe. Only for a second. Then, she resumes, adjusting the front of her robe like nothing changed. Smoke walks up until heâs directly behind her, watching her reflection instead of her directly.Â
âYou been real busy not seeinâ me tonight.âÂ
Zariah shrugs one shoulder.Â
âIâve been minding my business.â
âThat so.âÂ
âYou got something to say,â she says, voice even, âsay it.â
âI did.â His tone is lower now. âYou ignored it.âÂ
Her chin lifts a little in the mirror.Â
âMaybe I was tired of hearing it.âÂ
Smokeâs hand comes to the robe knot at her waist, fingers brushing the bow but not pulling it loose. Zariah finally turns them, eyes lifting to meet his.Â
Thereâs a challenge there. Smoke matches that, boring his eyes into hers like he was asking her telepathically âyou really wanna take it there, baby girl?â. His gaze dropped briefly to the robe that barely hugged her frame, the one she loved to put on after her showers. The one she wore whenever her skin was slicked with body oil so it could mold to her body in ways that had Smoke dickinâ her down to put her to bed properly.Â
âYou been pokinâ at me all night.âÂ
Zariah folds her arms over her chest.Â
âMaybe youâre easy to poke.âÂ
That earns a quiet breath through his nose. And he wasnât amused.Â
He steps closer until thereâs no way for her to forget heâs there. The heat of him reaches her before contact does. Her spine straightens automatically. Smoke notices. His hand slides to her jaw, thumb settling near her chin, guiding her face up.Â
âWrong answer.âÂ
Zariahâs lips part.
She means to say something slick. He sees it forming.
But the words stall when his other hand reaches down, tugs the robe knot loose in one pull, then lets it fall open on its own. He takes a small step back, eyes downcast to admire her. Take in the view like she was modeling nudity for his eyes only. Robe parted wide and framing that long, elegant frame without hiding a damn thing. 5â10 of slim-thick lines hit different up close. Her long torso stretched down to a waist he could circle with both hands and still have room, dipping into hips that curved fuller from the side, that rich brown skin glowing warm.
Her chest rose steady with each breath, full and natural, nipples tightening just from the air or maybe his stare, elegant shape softening the sharp edges of her shoulders and collarbones. He clocked the subtle give in her stomach, toned thighs long from runway miles pressed together slight, calves flexing strong as she held runway poise even now.Â
Smokeâs eyes never leave hers.
âThat attitude you got,â he says quietly. âIâm âbout done with it.â
âYou ainât my bodyguard no more, Smoke,â Zariah snaps, voice laced brat-sharp. âStop actinâ like you run shit. I do what I want.âÂ
Smoke chuckles low, rumble deep from his chest rolling out gravel-thick, his hand shoots out to snag her wrist before she grabs the front of her robe, pulling her half-turn into him, cedar scent faint mixing with her floral perfume.Â
âYeah, but who you come runninâ to when you needed help? Who handled things to make shit easier for you? Roughed niggas up that got too close? Would kill anybody that so much as try you?â Smoke drawls slow, southern thick, free hand palming the front of his joggers where his thick bulge thickens obvious. âYeah, but you was feeninâ for this dick. We wouldnât be here if it wasnât for you begginâ me to fuck you in that dressing room. Remember? Or you forgot just like you forgot who the fuck I am. And when I say somethinâ, you do as you told.âÂ
Smokeâs eyes never left yer face, unblinking and coal-dark, jaw set under stubble.Â
Zariah yanks her wrist free, twisting away but stays close, turning full to shove her palm flat against his chest, pushing half-hearted, his pecs unyielding under her spore as fingers. Zariah leans in, chin high, lips curling into a smirk.Â
âAnd wasnât you the one that couldnât wait to fuck me?â She fires back, hip cocked. âAinât never had a bitch like me in yoâ life. Soon as you got a taste, you obsessed, right? Thatâs why you still actinâ like a good little soldier. Now whoâs in control now, big bad Smoke?â Her voice pitches taunt, one hand sliding down to trail the ridge of his abs where his tee clings, nails scraping light to test the flex.Â
Zariah walks off, brushing past him. Smoke snorts breath.Â
âControl? Lilâ girl, you testinâ ropes right now.â Smoke growls. His large Pam clamps her hip, yanking her flush from behind, his hard dick against her ass. His beard grazes her cheek as his head dips. âThat dressinâ roomâŚyou hiked that dress, spread your legs wide, pussy was drippinâ and begginâ for my tongue first. Then you rode this dick cryinâ daddy til you squirted all on this dick. Obsessed? YeahâŚI ainât got a reason to deny shit. But you hooked, baby girl. Chasinâ this nut every night since.â Smokeâs fingers trail up the arch of her spine, his other hand cupping her ass cheek.Â
Zariah gasps sharp, twisting her hips, bucking against him, but eventually she breaks the hold.Â
âHooked? Please. You stalkinâ my every move like a lost puppy.â She spits, laughing brittle, backing toward the bathroom door. âBody guard days over, but you still guarding this pussy like itâs yours. And Iâm glad you know exactly how obsessed you are.â Her eyes flash, lips parting to rest her tongue at the corner of her mouth.Â
Smoke steps forward, hands shooting out to brace the doorframe over her head, caving her without touch.Â
âMine? Damn right. Till you prove otherwise.â He rumbles. âGo âhead, shower off that dinner, but donât think slamming doors gonâ end this talk.â His eyes rake over her body, dick tenting the front of his joggers. Zariah places her palm flat against his chest before giving him a final shove to the ripple of muscle, the door swinging hard bang latch catching. The shower turned on beyond the door and as much as Smoke wanted to open that door, he waited. Waited until he heard that shower shut off.
Zariah is standing at the vanity in nothing but a towel, lotion bottle in hand, acting deeply interested in the label. She bends to reach for her toner in the cabinet beneath the sink. The bathroom door opens, the humidity in the bathroom turning the air chill. The fog on the glass began to disappear. The way she knows exactly where he is behind her without turning around. She just wants him to know she can ignore it.Â
Zariah rises slowly, and sets her toner on the sink with careful precision.Â
Still wonât turn.Â
Zariah swallows. Her arms start to cross over herself instinctive. Smoke catches both her wrists and lowers them back at her sides.Â
âNo.âÂ
Zariah looks at him now, fully. Some of the bravado thinning at the edges. Because she knows this version of him. The one who gets calmer the more serious he is. He releases her wrists only after they stay where he put them. Then, he steps back half a pace and gestures toward the counter.Â
Smoke steps behind her, broad hand spreading over the back of her neck for one steady second, claiming her attention.Â
"Good," he says.
The steam from her shower clings to the air, thick and warm, fogging the mirror above the sink in faint swirls. Zariah stands there naked, skin dewy, water droplets tracing slow paths down her shoulders and the curve of her back. The towel lies discarded on the floor by her feet, leaving her fully exposed. Smokeâs hand lingers at her neck a beat longer, thumb pressing firm against her pulse, anchoring her in place. The heat of his palm seeps into her, carrying that familiar cedar scent that always seems to cut through everything else. Smoke's chest brushes her back as he closes the space. Zariah can feel the expansion of his black tee against her shoulder blades when he draws a controlled breath.
"Hands on the sink," he tells her, voice low and even.Â
Zariah does not move right away. Her chin lifts a fraction, eyes flicking to his reflection in the mirror, holding his gaze there. Bold still, testing.Â
âFor what?â she asks, tone carrying that edge she knows gets under his skin, words clipped.Â
Smoke doesnât rise to it. His free hand slides down her side, large fingers splaying over her hip, gripping just enough. The veins in his forearm stand out as his muscles flex.Â
âYou know why,â he says. âAll that mouth. Ignoring calls. Acting like rules donât stick. Time to fix it.â
Zariah exhales through parted lips, a subtle shift, but her hands stay at her sides. Her posture remains upright, feet planted on the cool tile. Inside, she feels the pull, the way his presence makes the steam feel heavier, but she pushes back one more time.
 âI was busy. You act like I owe you every second.â
Smoke's grip tightens on her hip, thumb digging into the soft flesh there. He leans in closer, lips near her ear, breath warm against the damp shell.Â
âBusy playin' games. Poking. Now Iâma show you. But thatâs what you wanted, right?â His other hand lifts from her neck, trails down her spine, ending at the swell of her ass. He cups one cheek fully, squeezing hard enough to make her shift her weight.
"Hands. Sink. Now."
This time, her body responds before her mouth does. Palms flat on the cool porcelain edge, fingers splaying wide. She arches her back slightly without meaning to, ass pushing out toward him, skin prickling under the humid air. Her eyes stay on his in the mirror, defiant spark still there, but her breathing picks up, chest rising faster.
âThat's better. So, you do as you told then?â he says, stepping fully behind her now. His feet plant wide on the tile, knees bracketing her legs as he positions himself. One hand stays on her hip, holding her steady. The other rears back, large palm open, veins bulging along his wrist.
The first smack lands solid across her right cheek, skin meeting skin with a sharp crack that echoes off the tiled walls. Her ass jiggles from the impact, flesh purpling instantly under his handprint. Zariah's fingers curl against the sink, a hiss escaping her teeth, but she bites down on anything louder.
 âThat all?â she throws back, voice tight, trying to keep the bold front.
Smoke sees it. The way her thighs tense, pussy lips glistening between her legs from more than just the shower. He knows sheâs wet, knows the defiance is her last push before she settles. His dick barely had room to grow in his joggers, that thick length pressing against the seam as he watched her in the mirror.Â
âKeep talkin',â he warns, hand coming down again, harder this time, left cheek taking the full weight of his swing. The slap rings out wet in the steam, her ass bouncing, a fresh mark blooming dark against her skin.
Zariah gasps, knees buckling a touch, but his grip on her hip keeps her upright. Heat spreads across her backside, stinging deep.Â
âFuck,â she breathes, eyes narrowing at him in the glass. âYou mad at me daddy?â
Smoke doesnât answer with words. Instead, he delivers three quick spanks in succession, alternating cheeks, each one heavier than the last. Palm cracks against flesh, her ass rippling with every strike, turning hot and swollen under his assault. Her pussy clenches visibly, slickness dripping down her inner thigh, betraying how much she needs this correction. Smoke's free hand slides between her thighs from behind, thick fingers parting her folds roughly, middle finger plunging into her soaked pussy without warning.
âThis what you wanted?â Smoke growls low, pumping in and out once, twice, feeling her walls grip him tight. She moans despite herself, hips bucking back. But he pulls out just as quick, smearing her juices over her ass before landing another brutal smack right where her cheek meets thigh.
Zariah's head drops forward a second, elbows locking on the sink, but she lifts it back up, meeting his eyes again.Â
âKeep goin' then,â she challenges, voice breathier now, the bold cracking at the edges.
Smoke's chest rumbles with a low sound, approval mixed with hunger. That big dick throbs, straining as he tugs his joggers down with one hand, freeing the curved shaft and wide tip. Pre-cum beads at his slit, heavy length slapping against her bruised ass. But he ainât done punishing her yet. Smoke grabs a fistful of her wet hair, pulling her head back gently but firm, forcing her to arch deeper.Â
âCount 'em,â he orders.
His hand cracks down again, full force, the loudest yet. Her ass quivers, marked deep purple, heat radiating.Â
âOne,â she grits out, pussy aching empty.
Another on the other side, palm stinging his own skin from the velocity. âTwo.â
Smoke spreads her cheeks with his thumbs, exposing her tight asshole and dripping slit, then spanks right across both, the impact jarring her whole body.Â
âThree,â she moans, thighs shaking. Teeth chattering.Â
Smoke leans over her, his dense midsection pressing into her back, shirt damp from the steam and her skin. His beard scraping her shoulder as he bites down lightly there, marking her while his hand rains down five more measured strikes, each one pushing her closer to breaking that last wall. Her counts come faster, voice turning needy, ass on fire, pussy clenching around nothing as viscous arousal slicks her legs. By the tenth, she is panting, body trembling in his hold, bold facade shattered into raw want.
 P-Please,â Zariah whispers finally, not begging wildly but settling, hands gripping the sink.
Smoke pauses, rubbing his palm over the abused flesh, soothing the burn while his tip nudges her entrance, thick head parting her lips.Â
âGood girl,â he says, voice thick with possession.Â
Then he thrusts in deep, stretching her pussy wide around his girth, filling her completely. His hips snap forward once, deep and punishing, fat dick buried to the hilt in her dripping pussy, stretching her walls tight around his thickness.Â
When he eased that fat length inside her it opened her pussy with a slow burn, the girth demanding space as it sank deep. The curve to the right caught along her slick walls, dragging firm pressure against the sensitive ridge there with each inch that followed. Long and solid, bottoming out steady, filling her to the limit while her body adjusted around the thickness pulsing hot and full. Every shift would send that curve nudging the same spot over and over, building a tight coil low in her belly that made her thighs tremble without her meaning to. Zariah's breath catches sharp, body jolting against the sink, but Smoke pulls out slow, leaving her clenching empty, creamy slick coating his shaft. Not done yet. Her ass still needs more work, cheeks blazing hot under his palm prints.
Smoke's hand cracks down again, heavy and mean, right across both bruised globes. The slap echoes wet in the bathroom, her flesh rippling, thighs quivering from the sting. Zariah whimpers low, knees buckling inward, but his grip on her hip locks her straight.
âI donât know why the fuck you act like you tough, baby,â Smoke growls, voice thick with that Mississippi drawl, low and gravel-rough, breath hot on her neck. His free hand fists her wet hair tighter, yanking her head back so her eyes lock on his in the fogged mirror. Dark brown gaze bores into hers, heavy-lidded and unblinking. âWhy the fuck you keep actinâ up? Huh?â
Another smack lands harder, palm flattening her left cheek, sending fire blooming deep. Zariahâs legs shake harder, pussy leaking fresh wetness down her inner thighs, mixing with shower droplets on the tile. Zariah bites her full lip, trying to hold the sound, but a needy whine slips out anyway, body arching despite the burn.
âWhy? Answer the fuckinâ question,â Smoke demands, leaning his solid chest heavier against her back, tee clinging damp to his thick torso. The weight of him pins her forward, broad shoulders eclipsing her reflection. His cream-coated dickthrobs hot against her thigh, pre-cum smearing her skin, but he holds off, rubbing her sore ass roughly with his rough palm, veins popping along his forearm whenever he would grip the flesh with his fingers.Â
Zariah exhales shaky through parted lips, fingers digging into the sink edge, porcelain cool under her palms. That bold edge frays, but she pushes one last time, voice breathy and tight. âI heard you...just didnât thinkâŚâ
Crack. His hand swings full force, spanking the spot where ass meets thigh, jolting her whole frame. Her pussy clenches hard, clit twitching, inner lips trembling from the impact, visible drip falling to the floor. Her legs trembled bad now, barely holding her up.
âDidnât think what? That I mean what I say?â Smoke presses closer, beard scraping her shoulder as he leans in to kiss the spot where his teeth was minutes ago, soothing it. He spanks again, rapid fireâthree in a row, alternating sides, each crack louder, her ass swelling fuller, hot to the touch.Â
âYou went out there actinâ like my words ainât shit. Ignorinâ calls. Playinâ like you run this. Nah, baby. That stops now.â
Zariahâs whimper turns into a gasp, body softening under the onslaught, shoulders dropping a fraction. She feels his control sink in deep, the dense gravity of his frame making the steam thicker, her vanilla-musk scent mixing with his cedar smoke.Â
âY-Yeah... I hear you,â she admits quieter, chin lifting less defiant, eyes holding his with that flickerâirritation yielding to the weight.
Smoke pauses, large hand soothing over the fiery flesh, squeezing possessive. But his voice stays mean, drawl dragging slow.
 âToo late for that hearinâ shit. You gonna learn tonight.â That dick nudges her slit again, thick head parting her soaked folds, teasing that creamy entry without giving it what it wants. One more spank, brutal across the fullest part of her right cheek, making her cry out soft, hips bucking back involuntary.
âCount the rest. And donât make me ask twice.â
Her voice comes steady now, reined in, body present under him. âE-Eleven.â
Smokeâs hand lifts off her throbbing ass cheek, fingers digging into the heated flesh one last time before shoving her shoulders down firm. Enough with the slaps. Time to shut that mouth up proper. Her knees hit the wet tile with a soft smack, water slick under her shins. Zariahâs dark eyes lift to his, breath still ragged from the burn, but she don't hesitate. Her body shifts smoothly, settling low, full tits swaying as she balances on her heels.
Smoke steps up close, black tee clinging to his broad chest, sweat and shower mist beading on his deep brown skin. One thick hand wraps the base of his dick, pulling it free from where it hung thick and heavy between his muscular thighs. Almost as thick as her forearm, easy nine inches stretching out straight at first, then curving wicked at the tip like it know exactly where to hit deep. Girth thick around, veins bulging ropey along the dark shaft, skin a rich chocolate shade fading near the fat, flared head that's glossy with pre-cum leaking steady. Heavy balls swing low underneath, plump and full, hanging loose in that wrinkled sac, dark and musky from the heat. Whole thing pulses alive in his grip, smelling of clean soap mixed with his natural cedar-earth scent up close.
âSee this dick right here, baby? You wanna talk back, runninâ yoâ mouth like you run shit? Get this dick in that throat,â Smoke growls low, drawl dragging thick and mean, free hand tangling rough in her wet curls. He yanks her face forward, smearing the leaking head across her plump lips, leaving a shiny trail. âSuck big daddyâs dick. Put that mouth to work since you actinâ all tough. Throat it deep, show me you learned somethinâ tonight.â
Zariah parts her lips wide, tongue flicking out to lap the salty bead from his slit before she stretches her jaw open. Head disappears first, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks hard around the ridge, pulling him in inch by girthy inch. Those full Saliva spills quick, dripping down her chin. She trained for this, months of him working her down slow at first, gagging her till she took every curve without choking. Now she slides forward steady, throat relaxing open, feeling that bend nudge the back of her mouth then slip past her tonsils smooth.
The soft flesh of her lips stretches wide and presses flush against his shaft as she sinks lower, creating a tight seal that drags with each slow pull. Wet suction fills the quiet with each bob of her head, the sound thick and wet as her mouth works to take more. Heat and pressure builds around Smoke from the way her lips clamp and slide, her tongue pushing up from below while her throat opens to pull him deeper with every descent.
Zariahâs face pulls tight around that thick girth filling her mouth, her cheeks drawing inward in deep hollows that frame the shaft with sharp definition as she sinks lower. She maintains a steady rhythm of long, controlled pulls, her tongue pressing firm and flat underneath while her throat opens to swallow more with each descent, creating a constant wet drag and suction that tightens on the upstroke. Her jaw works visibly with the effort, lips sealed flush and sliding in a smooth, milking motion that builds pressure without pause.
Smoke groans deep in his chest, hips bucking shallow to feed her more. âYeah, that's it, fuckin' swallow this big dick. You know how I like it, don't play. Deeper, baby, choke on it if you gotta, but donât stop.â His voice rumbles harsh, hand guiding her head, thick fingers pressing her nose toward his trimmed pubes. His fat nuts slap light against her chin as she bobs, throat bulging visible with his length buried fully. Zariah gags once soft, eyes watering, but pushes through, humming low around him, tongue pressing flat underneath to stroke the bulging vein.
Smoke watches her work in the mirror, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing mean. âLook at you, all that fire earlier, now you slurpin' dick like a good lilâ girl. Shoulda did this from jump, keep that ass in line and yoâ throat full. Mmm, suck harder, baby. Drain these nuts dry.â His grip tightens in her hair, fucking her face, pulling out to the tip with a wet pop before slamming back in, curve hitting her gag reflex perfect every thrust. Her hands brace his thick thighs, nails digging into the dense muscle, feeling him flex under her palms as drool strings from her stretched lips.
Zariahâs pussy aches empty between her spread knees, thighs slick with her own drip mixing on the floor, but she focuses, hollowing her cheeks tighter, swallowing around his girth to milk him. Her nose buries in his coarse hairs finally, balls snug against her chin, holding him deep till her lungs burn. She pulls off gasping, strings of spit connecting her mouth to his shining shaft, then dives back, faster, head twisting side to side for friction.
âThatâs my girl, train that throat right. You ainât goinâ nowhere till I bust down yoâ neck,â Smoke grunts, free hand cupping her jaw rough, thumb smearing spit back in. His heavy balls draw up tight, dick twitching hard in her sucking mouth, but he holds off, drawing it out mean. âKeep goinâ. Earn that forgiveness, baby.â
Zariahâs right hand wraps around the base of his thick dick, fingers barely meeting around the girth as she strokes up slow, twisting at the swollen head slick with her spit. She sucks deeper on the pull back, lips sealed tight around his veiny shaft, tongue swirling under the curve that presses her cheek out. Her left hand steadies on his heavy thigh, nails scraping light into the dense muscle as she bobs faster, throat opening wide to take him balls-deep again, humming vibrations along his length.
Smoke's eyes narrow sharp, watching her work from above. His big palm cracks down quick on her stroking hand, slapping it off his dick with a wet smack.Â
âNah, baby. Hands where I can see âem. Up behind yo head or on them thighs. This mouth mine now.â' He grabs a fistful of her wet curls tighter, yanking her head back just enough to pop his dick free, strings of saliva stretching long before snapping. Then he thrusts forward, burying every curving inch straight down her throat in one push, balls smacking her chin heavy.
Zariah gasps around the invasion, eyes watering, but puts her hands in her lap. Her throat bulges with his girth, the bend lodging deep, cutting off her air till black spots dance. He don't let upâhips snap forward, fucking her face, pulling out to the flared head where she gasps ragged, then slamming back in, pubes grinding her nose.
âFuckinâ tired of yo games, Zariah. All this bullshit you pullinâ,â he growls low, thick and gravelly, voice echoing off the tile. Smoke picks up meaner, dick pistoning her mouth, heavy balls swinging to slap her jaw each thrust. âBack when I was yoâ bodyguard, dealin' with yoâ spoiled, uptight, prissy ass barkin' orders left and right. Actinâ like you own the world, snappinâ at me like I'm one of yoâ lil' errand boys. Had to bite my tongue, watchin' you strut âround thinkinâ you untouchable.â
Zariahâs knees spread wider on the slick floor, thighs quivering as drool pours down her chin, soaking her tits glossy. She gags hard on a deep plunge, throat convulsing around his pulsing shaft, but holds the position, hands laced tight in her lap, fingers twitching to grip something. That wet ass pussy throbbed neglected, juices trailing down to puddle under her.
Smoke grunts deep, free hand bracing the sink edge, muscles flexing in his thick arm as he rams harder, curve dragging her tonsils raw. âAnd now? Now you on this dick, slurpinâ like you starved, and still think you run shit? Nah, baby girl. I run it. Always did. Just lettinâ you play pretend till I remind this lilâ ass who in charge.â He yanks her hair sharper, holding her nose-deep, balls snug on her chin, grinding slow circles to stretch her throat wider. âFeel that? Feel daddy ownin' this mouth? You gonâ take every inch till I say stop. No more actinâ brand new.â
Zariahâs chest heaves desperate around the blockage, tears streaking her cheeks mixing with spit, but her eyes stay locked up at him, defiant spark fading to raw submission. She swallows around his girth, milking the veiny underside, tongue pressing frantic when he pulls back for air. Her hands stay put, obedient, elbows trembling from the strain as he resumes pounding, wet gurgles filling the humid air, his heavy balls tightening with each brutal thrust.
Smoke abruptly snaps his hips back, dick leaving her throat. Zariah sucked in a lung full of air, sniffling, teary eyes cloudy as she looked up at her daddy with a bite of her bottom lip. Sheâd sucked a few dicks in her twenty-nine years of living but she would have never thought a nine inch, veiny monster would fit down her throat. Normally, she would pat herself on the back, but right now, Smoke was pissed off. Her reward would come later. Right now, sheâs a throat to fuck and nothing more. Her eyes went hazy from staring at his hard dick bobbing and twitching in her face, glossy and dripping with saliva. She knew he was close because his tip was a deep purple and it flared so wide it left the corners of lips raw. The map of veins along his shaft bulged in size, and his nut sack sat full and loaded with cum.Â
âOpen up.â Smoke commands.
Zariah does as sheâs told, eager for more. That big dick slid in smooth and full, making her eyes roll.Â
Smoke's hips jackhammer faster now, thick dick plunging her throat raw brutal snaps, the curve battering her tonsils. His balls draw up tight, slapping her chin wet and relentless, his breath turning into ragged grunts as the pressure coils low in his gut. Sweat beads down his solid chest, tee clinging damp to the full slabs of pecs heaving with each drive. He feels her throat spasm greedy around his girth, milking him closer to the edge.
âEyes up here, Zariah. Look at me while I feed this throat,â he snarls, free hand clamping her jaw firm, thumb digging into the hinge to force her gaze up. Watery brown eyes meet his dark, heavy-lidded stare, hers wide and pleading, his burning with ownership. âHands in yoâ lap. Fingers laced. Don't move âem.â
Zariah shifts quickly on her knees, pulling her elbows in to drop her hands to her thighs, palms up and fingers interlocking obediently in her lap like a proper slut. Her thighs quake wider apart on the tile, pussy clenching empty and dripping strings of arousal to the floor. Her jaw slackens under his grip, relaxing loose as he demands, lips stretched obscene around his pistoning shaft, drool bubbling out the corners to sheet down her neck and pool between her heaving tits.
âGood girl. There you go, relax that jaw. Let daddy bust,â Smoke growls deep, gravel scraping rough, pace turning erratic, hips stuttering as his dick swells thicker in her gullet. His balls contract hard, and he slams balls-deep one final time, grinding his pubes flush to her nose, holding as ropes of hot cum erupt straight down her throat. Pulse after thick pulse floods her, warm, slightly salty jets coating her esophagus, forcing her to gulp convulsively around the buried length.
He don't budge an inch, big hand locked on her curls, the other on her jaw, keeping her pinned nose-deep while she swallows every dropâno spill, no waste. Her throat works visible under the skin, bulging swallows pulling his load down greedy, chest fluttering desperate for air around the blockage. Her eyes remain locked on his, tears carving clean tracks through the spit mask on her face, but that defiant spark's gone fully, replaced with raw, owned surrender shining back.
Smoke holds till the last twitch fades, dick softening just enough in the wet heat, then eases out slow, dragging the sensitive underside over her lolling tongue. Strings of cum-mixed saliva cling thick, snapping as the flared head pops free. She coughs hoarse, sucking air in big whoops, hands twitching in her lap but staying put, lips puffy and glossy. He strokes her cheek with his thumb, smearing the mess, voice dropping low and satisfied.Â
âEvery drop. That's how you take whatâs yours. Donât forget who run this shit.â
Smokeâs thick fingers loosen from her curls, sliding down to hook under her arms with that unyielding grip, hauling her up off the tile slow and steady. Her knees wobble jelly-soft, thighs slick from her own dripping need, but he steadies her full against his sweat-damp shirt, broad chest rising firm under her cheek. His big hand cups her elbow, the other spans low on her back, guiding her bare feet over the bathmat and out the steamy bathroom door.
He snags a clean washcloth from the sink edge first, soaking it under hot tap water till steam curls off, then presses it gentle but thorough to her chin, wiping away the glossy streaks of spit and tears. His thumb traces her swollen lips, the cloth dragging over puffy cheeks and her jaw, leaving her skin flushed warm and bare.Â
âThere. Clean slate, baby girl,â he rumbles low, voice that quiet thunder rolling deep from his chest.
The king bed dominated the dim space, sheets rumpled from earlier. He sinks onto the edge, thighs spreading wide like tree trunks, then tugs her forward to drape her naked body across his lap face-down. Ass up high, cheeks still blooming hot from the spanking, pussy lips peeking swollen and slick between spread thighs. His weight shifts the mattress deep, one massive palm flattening broad on her lower back to anchor her still, the other dipping into the jar of balm on the nightstand. A cool, thick shea and aloe mix he keeps stocked for nights like this.
His fingers dig in generously, spreading the cream in firm circles over her left cheek first, kneading the stinging heat away, thumb pressing into the tender underside where it meets thigh. Smoke switches to the right after a while, palms gliding slick, parting the globes slightly to smooth the balm down the cleft, grazing her puckered hole and dipping low enough to tease her soaked folds without mercy.Â
âYou know why that ass got lit up, Zariah,â he starts, tone even, dangerously calm wrapping each word like barbed wire, dragging vowels long and weighted. âPushinâ me like that, testin' boundaries when I done told you how it's gone be. Mouth runninâ reckless, darinâ me to snap. I spank you again and again if you keep triggerinâ this fire. Donât make me prove it twice more tonight.â
His hand keeps working, the balm sinking in as her skin drinks it greedy, cooling the fire to a throb. Smokeâs palm cups one cheek full, squeezing soft, then leans down to press open-mouth kisses along the curveâlips dragging hot and wet, tongue flicking out to taste the salted balm on fevered flesh. Peck after peck trails inward, nipping the fullest swell before soothing with flat laps.
âMmm,â he draws back, biting his bottom lip, her slick sticking to his goatee, âpussy puffy from me popping that ass,â Smoke takes two fingers, tapping her pussy lips, labia peeking through like petals. âI know you love it when daddy turns you out like a fuck dollâŚpussy leakinâ for it. But safety first, always. Top of my list. You play brat, defy what I say to keep you whole, that shit upsets me deep. Iâd kill anybodyâend âem slowâwho so much as touches a hair on your head. Bleed âem dry for less.â
Smokeâs voice stays level, no rise, just that steel edge slicing through, breath ghosting her skin between kisses, one hand landing square on the sit-spot welt. Smoke pauses, hand stilling to pat her ass possessive, waiting till her breath evens soft against the sheets.
âNow, you know what I want you to do. Say it clear.â
Zariah shifts slightly across his lap, thighs clenching, posture holding upright even prone, spine straight, hands smoothing the bedspread once to ground herself. Her voice comes soft, that self-possessed edge threading through.
ââŚIâll listen to what daddy says.â
âGood girl, keep goinâ.â
Smokeâs palm resumes stroking the balm in, fingers parting her cheeks wider for a deep kiss right above where her puckered hole sat, his tongue circling lazy.
ââŚIâIâll stop being mâmean to daddyâŚand understand tâthat heâs trying to protect mâme, not control me,â her full lips press thin a beat, exhale parting them tense, brown eyes flicking back over her shoulder to hold his gaze steady. Even though her body couldnât stop shaking.
âMm. Thatâs my girl,â another peck lower, between the under cuff of her ass where her thighs met, âfinish it.â
âHâHe wants me to continue tâto be independentâŚbut understand that mâmy man wâwants and needs to step up. To provide, protect, aâand spoil me. To create a life for me wâwhere I can continue to be tâthe phenomenal women that I am. The beautiful woman tâthat I am. The sexy woman that I am.â
Her words came out even in some ways and shaky in others. No plea. Only quiet dominance and echoing his, her body relaxing fuller into his lap as the balm soaked deep. Smoke nods once, satisfaction etching his heavy-lidded stare. He gave his girl a final kiss planted firm on her tailbone, one large, calloused hand sliding up her slick spine to tangle light in her hair, tugging her head back gently for more eye contact.
âThatâs my girl. Good job. NowâŚrest that ass here while daddy thinks up how to spoil you next.â
Smoke positions Zariah on her stomach across their bed. He spreads her thighs wide from behind and lifts her hips into the right tilt. Smoke dips his head and admires her pussy lips sitting in the shape of a heart below her ass that glistened from the balm. His tongue moves in slow strokes from the base of her pussy upward, gathering every bit of wetness. He seals his lips around the folds and sucks them clean with steady pulls before pressing soft kisses along the slick skin. His tongue dips inside to lick deeper then returns to lap and suck without rushing, working through the mess until only his mouth leaves her glistening.
Zariahâs body rocks with small shifts under his hold. âYes daddy." Her voice comes thick. âThank you daddy.â She pushes back a fraction as his suction holds on her clit. âI love it when you eat my pussy.â
Smoke keeps his pace while his voice rumbles low against her. âStay open for me. Let daddy clean every drop. You taste so good when I take my time like this.â He kisses her tender entrance then sucks again, tongue circling slow. âThatâs it. Give it all to me.â
Zariah shifts her hips back in a slow roll, pressing her soaked folds against Smoke's mouth. He meets each motion by sealing his lips around her clit and sucking with firm, steady pressure, drawing the swollen bud between his lips in a gentle pull before releasing. Her thighs tremble under his grip as she rocks again, grinding back for more contact.
"Oooo," she breathes out, the sound stretching long. âFuck. Yes.â The words slip free between moans while her body keeps moving, seeking that same suction each time she pushes her pussy toward him.
Smoke's tongue works in skillful laps, flattening broad against her entrance before dragging upward to circle her clit again. His voice stays low and even, vibrating right against her skin.
 âThatâs right, keep bringing it back like that. Let me suck on this pretty pussy. You feel how wet you stay for me?â Smoke proves her opening with the tip of his tongue to catch some of that wetness. âI can taste every bit of it, so sweet and thick on my tongue. Gonâ fuck you so deep after this, stretch you open slow with every inch until you can't think straight. This pussy gon' take it all, and I'ma give it to you proper.â
Snoke sucks with more pressure on her clit as she rocks back once more, holding the pull for a beat longer before easing off to lick through her folds. âTastes so damn good, baby. Can't get enough of how you drip down my chin.â
Zariahâs voice comes out husky between her moans. âYou love this pussy, baby?â
Smoke answers without lifting his mouth, the words rumbling straight into her. âDaddy love this pussy. Best fuckinâ pussy I ever had.â
Zariahâs voice lifts soft and questioning as she rocks back once more. âDaddy?â
Smoke answers with a low hum that vibrates against her folds, the sound deep and steady while his tongue continues its work.
Zariah pushes again, her words coming clearer now. âDaddy I wanna watch you eat my pussy.â
In one smooth motion Smoke flips her onto her back, his hands guiding her body with controlled strength. He pulls the black tee over his head and drops it aside, leaving him fully naked as he settles between her open thighs. Zariah spreads wider for him, and he eases down to keep his mouth on her, licking and sucking with focused attention. She grinds her pussy into his mouth, hips rolling to meet each pull of his lips. Smoke gently pushes her thighs open further, holding them apart so he can slurp directly on her clit with wet, smacking sounds. He stays right there, working that spot alone because it builds her up fast. Her body tenses and then releases in a sudden rush as she squirts, the warm fluid spilling over his tongue and chin while he keeps sucking through every pulse.
Smoke stays locked between her thighs, refusing to ease up. His tongue drags in long, wet strokes that feel heavy and thick against her folds, each one landing with pressure that makes her hips twitch. Zariahâs pussy quivers under the attention, the sensitive skin pulsing and tightening as he circles her clit again and again. He holds her legs open wider with firm hands, keeping her spread so nothing interrupts the steady motion of his mouth. The wet sounds grow louder with every lick, and he focuses right there, building the heat until her body starts to tighten once more. She grinds down into him, chasing the sensation as the pressure coils deep inside. His tongue works without pause, thick and insistent, pushing her straight toward the edge until she breaks again, fluid spilling over his lips while he keeps sucking through the pulses.
Smoke stays locked in place, his mouth sealed over her pussy as he sucks deeper, pulling her swollen clit between his lips with steady pressure. His tongue follows in thick, wet drags that lap up every fresh trickle of her arousal, working in firm circles that make her thighs shake in the air. Zariah keeps her legs spread wide, knees bent and feet towards the ceiling, giving him full access while her hips roll in small, desperate circles against his face.
Her body reacts in waves. The muscles in her lower belly tighten and release with each pull of his mouth, sending ripples across her frame. Her rich brown skin glistens with sweat, the soft curve of her waist flexing as her back arches off the bed. Her breasts rise and fall faster, nipples tight and dark against the air. Inside, her walls pulse and flutter around nothing, clenching with every lick that drags from her entrance up to her clit. More slick heat spills out, coating his tongue and dripping down his chin as he swallows it down without pause.
âUhuh, yeah baby.â Smoke rumbles against her, voice low and thick with command. âKeep those legs open. Let me feel you gettin' close. I want every drop this time. Right in my fucking mouth. Feed me.â His words vibrate through her core, pushing the tension higher. Smoke sucks again, lips sealed tight while his tongue flicks quick and firm right on that sensitive spot, building the pressure until her moans turn ragged.
Zariahâs hands fist the sheets. Her pussy quivers harder now, the inner walls squeezing in quick spasms that grow stronger with each pass of his tongue. The heat coils low in her belly, spreading outward until her toes curl and her breath hitches in short gasps. "HaahâFuck," a sharp inhale caught in her throat, then she breathes out, the word breaking on a moan as another rush of wetness floods his mouth. Her hips jerk upward, chasing the sensation while her thighs tremble around his shoulders.
Smoke doesn't let up. He slides two fingers inside her, curling them against that spongy spot while his mouth keeps working her clit in wet, insistent pulls. âI know you feel it buildinâ. Don't hold back on me. You gonâ give it all, you hear me?â His free hand presses her thigh wider, keeping her open as her body winds tighter. Her stomach flutters visibly, the muscles jumping under her skin. Her pussy clenches around his fingers, gripping and releasing in a steady climb toward the edge.
"I'll be your good girlââ Zariah gasps, voice cracking as the pressure peaks. Her whole frame locks up for a beat, then shatters. A hot rush pours from her, squirting in pulsing waves straight into his mouth. Smoke groans low and drinks it down, tongue still moving through the contractions that ripple through her walls. Her orgasm rolls on, body shaking as fresh slick spills over his lips and chin, her moans filling the room while he holds her through every last spasm.
Smoke lingers between her thighs after the last tremors fade, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against her slick folds. Each one lands soft, his lips brushing over the swollen heat while his tongue gives the lightest flick to catch the lingering taste.Â
âThatâs a good girl," he whispers low against her, the words vibrating through her sensitive skin. âTook every bit of it just like I said. Look at you, still shakinâ for me.â His praise comes steady and warm, laced with that deep southern drawl that settles right into her bones.
Zariahâs breath hitches in the aftermath, her body still sprawled open on the sheets. Her rich brown skin gleams from the vanilla oil, a fine sheen of sweat tracing the narrow dip of her waist and the soft flare of her hips. Her breasts rise and fall in quick, shallow pulls, nipples drawn tight from the rush that just tore through her. Inside, her walls continue to flutter in small, involuntary pulses, the aftershocks making her thighs twitch around his shoulders even as she keeps them parted for him.
Smoke trails those kisses upward, dragging his mouth across the smooth plane of her lower belly. Each press of his lips leaves a ticklish, wet mark that cools against her heated skin, moving higher with unhurried purpose. His hands slide along her sides, palms broad as they frame her ribcage. When he reaches her chest, he pauses at one peaked nipple, drawing it between his lips with a firm, wet pull. His tongue circles the tight bud then strokes while he sucks, the pressure sending fresh sparks straight down to her still-throbbing core.
Zariah arches into the contact, a broken moan slipping free as her fingers thread into the sheets again. The pull at her nipple feels sharper now, heightened by how raw everything still feels below. Her other breast settles against his cheek when he shifts to give it the same attention, sucking deep while his tongue works in lazy, insistent laps.Â
âSo damn responsive,â Smoke rumbles between pulls, voice thick with approval. âEvery part of you knows who it belong to.â
Zariahâs legs ease wider on instinct, the earlier tension melting into a loose, pliant sprawl. The muscles along her stomach quiver visibly under his path, and her hips give a small, involuntary roll upward as if chasing more of the contact even though he's moved on. Smoke keeps his mouth latched, alternating between gentle suction and firmer draws that make her back bow off the bed, her full lips parting around another shaky exhale.
Smoke stays latched on her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth with sucks that make her whole chest tighten. His tongue works in firm circles, pressing and flicking against the stiff peak while his teeth graze just enough to send sharp little jolts straight through her. Zariahâs rich brown skin flushes darker across her breasts, the full weight of them rising and falling with every breath as he switches sides, sucking the other nipple just as hard, his broad hand cupping the first one to keep the wet heat from fading.
Her pussy responds fast, slick folds parting on their own as fresh wetness slips out in a steady drip that trails down toward the sheets. The sensation builds low and insistent, her clit twitching in time with each strong suck, the tiny bud swelling and pulsing without any direct touch. Her slim-thick thighs part wider on the bed, hips rolling in small, helpless circles as the throbbing between her legs grows heavier, matching the pull of his mouth.
Zariahâs long legs tremble as another rush of heat floods her core. She can feel it clearly now, the way her pussy clenches around nothing, dripping steadily while her clit jumps and aches for friction. Smoke doesnât let up, his lips sealed tight around her nipple, sucking with that deep, focused technique hat leaves her gasping. His free hand slides down her side, palm broad against the curve of her waist, holding her steady as her back arches higher off the mattress.
âLook at that,â he says low, voice rough against her skin between pulls. âYour body tellinâ on you. Drippinâ all over just from this.â He drags his tongue across the sensitive tip one more time, then seals his mouth around it again, sucking harder until her clit twitches visibly with the next wave of wetness sliding free.
Zariahâs breath comes in short, shaky pulls, her full lips parted, eyes half-lidded as the pressure builds. Every strong draw from his mouth sends fresh heat straight down, making her pussy clench and release, more slick gathering and spilling out in warm trails. Her clit keeps twitching, swollen and sensitive, the empty ache growing sharper with each passing second. She rolls her hips again, seeking something, anything, but Smoke keeps her pinned with his weight and his mouth, focused entirely on working her nipples until the dripping and twitching leaves her shaking.
When he could see that pussy weeping the way he needed it to, Smoke releases her nipple with a slow drag of his lips, the wet pull leaving a shiny trail across her deep brown areolas. He rises over her, his thick frame blotting out the light above the bed as he lowers his mouth to hers. The kiss lands heavy and unhurried, his tongue pushing past her parted lips to stroke deep, carrying the taste of her own sex. Zariah meets him without hesitation, her full lips pressing back while her breath hitches against his. Her hands slide up his arms, fingers curling around the dense muscle there as the kiss stretches on, turning hotter with each slow pass of his tongue.
Her body stays open beneath him, thighs spread wide on the sheets. The steady drip from her pussy continues, warm slick sliding down the curve of her ass and soaking into the sheets right along with the puddle she made from squirting. Her clit keeps twitching, swollen and sensitive, each pulse sending fresh heat through her core. Zariah rolls her hips upward, seeking the press of his weight, the hard length of him brushing her inner thigh as he settles closer. Smoke's hand moves to cradle the back of her neck, holding her still while the kiss turns rougher, his teeth catching her bottom lip for a brief tug before his tongue claims her mouth again.
His hand lingers tangled in her curls, thumb stroking the nape of her neck in lazy circlesÂ
âSpoil you proper now,â Smoke rumbles that reminder, voice vibrating through her bones. His big palms slide down her sides, gripping her hips firm to flip her upright in one smooth hoist, straddling his thighs now, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. That heavy and rigid, curved dick all thick-veined and standing tall from those low-hanging balls, say wedged between her pussy lips, tip glossy from pre-cum beading thick.
Zariah braces her hands on his full chest, fingers splaying over his pecs, feeling the dense muscle shift under her palms as he breathes deep. Glossy brown eyes lock on his heavy-lidded stare, lips parting on a soft exhale, posture straight even perched like this, thighs flexing to lift her hips. Zariah sinks down slowly, pussy lips parting wide around his girth, swallowing the flared head first with a wet stretch, inner walls clenching greedily as inches disappear inside. Halfway down, she pauses, breath hitching, hands smoothing over his pecs to steady herself.Â
Smokeâs arms snake around her, one thick forearm banding her lower back, the other spanning shoulder blades, yanking her flush against him. Chest mashes to chest, her nipples dragging hard points over his skin, his beard scraping her jaw as he nuzzles close. â
âRide daddy, baby girl,â Smoke growls low in her ear, hips snapping up suddenly, thrust punching deep, balls slapping her ass with a meaty smack. Zariah gasps, spine arching but Smoke holds her locked, pumping from below relentlessly now. Each buck rolls his pelvis up hard, curved dick spearing her g-spot dead-on, grinding the base against her swollen clit with every bury.
Thighs like steel pistons flex under her, driving up fast then slow, varying the rhythm to make her chase it, his arms crushing her closer, one hand fisting her ass cheek to spread her wider, fingers teasing her hole while he rails her pussy. Sweat slicks their skin, her juices coat his shaft glossy, dripping down to soak his balls.Â
âFeel that? Daddy fillinâ you full, protectinâ this pussy âcus it's mine. Phenomenal woman takinâ every inch.â His voice stays that dangerous calm, breath tickling her neck between grunts, lips sucking marks along her collarbone.
Zariah rocks with him, hips circling intentional, walls fluttering tight around his length. Her voice was soft, edged with that self-possession.Â
 âYes, daddy...feels so good.â No begging, just owning the ride, thighs quivering as tension builds. He ramps it harder, arms vise-tight, fucking up into her like a machine, wet slaps echoing loud, her ass bouncing on his thighs, pussy creaming thick down his dick.Â
Zariahâs moans spill out breathy at first, soft exhales pitching higher with each deep punch,,starting as hushed mmh's from deep in her throat, lips parting wider to let ahh's drag long and throaty, vibrating against where her mouth presses open near his collarbone. Tension coils her core tighter, breaths coming measured but ragged now, moans layering into nngh-ahh-mmh, each one punched out precisely by his upward drives, voice never cracking loud but husky-thick with need, edges fraying just enough to feel raw.
âYes, daddy,â Zariah breathes into his neck, her hips working bolder, starting to throw it down now, lifting high to slam her ass back onto his thighs with snaps and deep grinds, pussy gripping his girth on every drop. âYou fuck me so good. Fuck this pussy. Fuck me with that big dick.â Her thighs flex hard, bucking wilder to meet his thrusts, wet hole sucking him deeper, creamy froth building at the base where her pussy lips stretch taut around his veined curve. âFuck, I love this big dick.â Her voice stays in that self-possessed tone, edged needy, no shrieks or pleas because she was owning every word as she grinds down, clit dragging his pelvis, walls pulsing greedy.Â
Smokeâs grip tightens, one forearm locked across her lower back to mash her tits flush to his chest, the other palm cupping her ass full, fingers digging into the balm-slick cheek to yank her harder onto each buck. His toned hips piston up relentless, thick thighs bulging under her weight, curved length spearing her depths over and over. Those heavy balls swinging up to tap her perineum with heavy thwacks.Â
âFuck yes, baby girl, throw that pussy on daddy's dick like you owninâ it, good girl, get your dick,â Smoke rumbles low in her ear, thick and commanding. âLook at you ridinâ this big Mississippi meat, creaminâ all over my balls. Feel how deep I'm feedinâ this wet hole? Huh? Stretchinâ you wide, hittinâ that spot ainât Iâm?â Smoke thrusts up and holds, tapping Zariah on the rump as she shakes all over. âAll that boss shit disappear when I give you dick. You safe witâ me, act like it.âÂ
Smoke rolls his pelvis on the upthrusts, grinding the fat base against her clit, varying the pace from slow deep grinds to three fast snaps, making her chase the friction. Sweat beads on his chest, his beard rasping her jaw as he turns her face to capture her lips in a messy suck, tongue thrusting in time with his hips. âKeep talkinâ to me, bad girl. Tell daddy how this dick rearranginâ that tight pussy. You takinâ it perfect.â Smokeâs thumb teases her back entrance light, pressing the puckered ring while he rails her pussy, arms crushing her immobile against him, and Zariah was owning it even as she bucks wild.
Her pace picks up frantic, hips slamming down to swallow him balls-deep every time, pussy squelching loud around his girth, juices dripping warm down his sack to soak the sheets. Her moans turn into throaty-soft pleas now.
âAhh-nngh-yes!â blending with his grunts, body trembling. Smoke feels her tighten vise-like, knows she's close, but holds back his own load, hips snapping sharper to drag it out.
Zariahâs walls clamp down vise-tight around his thick length, that deep coil snapping loose as the orgasm rips through her, body seizing rigid in his iron hold, thighs locking hard against his hips, back arching sharp but pinned flush by his forearm across her back. Her pussy floods him in hot gushes, creamy release squirting thick around his pistoning shaft, soaking his heavy balls and dripping messy down to the sheets below. Zariah canât buck anymore, stuck impaled balls-deep on his curved girth, every ridge dragging her fluttering walls as Smoke keeps snapping up relentless, his hips rolling precisely to grind that swollen spot inside her over and over, forcing wave after wave to crash harder.
Moans pour from her throat uncontrolled, delicate but fractured, starting as a long, drawn out âahhhhâ vibrating deep in her chest, pitching into sharp ânngh-nnghâ gasps punched out by each thrust, lips trembling open against his neck where her face buries hot and slick with sweat. They layer ragged, breathy exhales fraying at the edges âmmh-ahh-mmhâ blending into a throaty hum that shakes her frame, her voice husky-thick and edged raw, never shrill but owning the depth of it, body quaking helpless as she creams all over his big dick.
Smoke doesn't let up, thick arms crushing her immobile against him, his biceps bulging under her sliding palms, one hand palming her ass cheek deep to spread her wider, fingers splayed to feel her hole pulse and leak around him. His pelvis snaps up in deep strokes, curved head battering that g-spot without mercy, balls wet against her perineum through her flood. That thick length gleamed with her juices and he just kept fucking her pussy straight through the peak. Smoke turns her face to lock eyes with him, his heavy-lidded gaze burning steady into hers, full lips parting on a low grunt.
âYeah, cum on this dick, baby girl, keep cumminâ on this dick.â Smoke growls thick in her ear. âPretty pussy grippinâ me so tight, squirtinâ all over daddyâs balls. Stuck right here takinâ every inch while I hit that spot. Keep cumminâ for me, baby, flood this big dick, bad girl. You own this nut, pussy milkinâ me deep.â He varies the drivesâthree short punches to her depths, then a slow grind circling her clit with his base, drawing out the spasms, her walls sucking greedily even as she trembles locked.
Zariahâs body jerks in aftershocks, pussy clenching around him, more cream bubbling out to coat his veined length shiny, her thighs quivering helpless. All Zariah can do is moan throaty into his collarbone, âahh-nngh-yesâ spilling fractured as he rails her sensitive hole. He feels his own sack tighten heavy, but holds it back, hips powering through her mess to chase every drop from her. Heâd continue to edge himself as long as he gives his bad bitch plenty of orgasms.Â
Smoke eases out of her spasming pussy with a wet pop, Zariahâs cream clinging thick in strings to his veined shaft, glossy from tip to base where her squirt and cream mixed in slick trails down his heavy balls. Smoke wastes no time and flips her over rough but steady, large hands gripping her hips to yank her ass high at the bed's edge, face pressed flat into the rumpled sheets, knees spread wide under his direction. One palm presses firm between her shoulder blades, forcing that deep arch in her spine until her spine hollows out perfectly, ass cheeks parting naturally from the stretch, lower back dipping sharp.
Her pussy blooms open in that position, lips puffy and flushed dark from the pounding, inner folds glistening raw and swollen, stuck slightly agape from his girth, unable to close full after the stretch. Cream leaks steady from that stretched, creamy hole, thick white rivulets bubbling out slow to trail down her inner thighs, mixing with squirt sheen that soaks the sheets beneath her knees. Above it, her pretty asshole winks in the cool air, the tight ring pulsing faint with each aftershock clench from her pussy below, pink-brown rim flexing open a fraction before snapping shut, begging subtle under the exposure.
Smoke stands planted at the edge, bare feet firm on the floor, thick thighs framing her as he lines up, messy dick heavy in his fist, curved length slapping once against her leaking slit to smear her own juices back over her clit. Then, he sinks in, crown breaching her folds with a squelch, inch after girthy inch parting her walls until his pelvis meets her ass full, balls nestling heavy against her clit. Slow strokes start, pulling back to the tip so her pussy lips drag reluctant along his ridges, then driving deep again, his hips rolling weighted to bottom out each time, grinding her depths before he withdraws again.Â
âZariâŚyou daddyâs little bratty girl, huh?â Smoke rumbles low, thick and edged mean, one hand sinking deep into her left ass cheek, fingers digging to spread her wider. He watched his curved dick emerge shiny-coated in fresh cream, veins pulsing as her hole grips and tugs. âYou piss me off just so I can fuck you like this? Bend you over and drill this good pussy deep?â Smoke popped her ass. âSee how sweet you get when you finally let go?âÂ
âYes, daddy,â Zariah gasps throaty into the mattress, voice husky-fractured from the stretch, ass pushing back instinctively to meet his plunge, her walls fluttering around the slow invasion. âYes, sir, I doâwant this dick so bad.â
Smoke grunts his approval, other hand claiming a full handful of her right cheekâpalms rough and veined, overflowing with soft flesh, kneading hard as he pulls her onto him deeper, pace still controlled but forceful, balls tapping her clit wet on each burial. Her leaky mess coated him fresh, pussy slurping audible around the drag.Â
âThatâs right. Act up so daddy give you some dick, stretch this bratty hole wide. Piss me off on purpose, gettinâ that arch just right for me too. You love beinâ face down, ass up, leakinâ all over my balls while I stroke it slow like this? Huh?â
âMmm-yes sir,â Zariah moans soft-edged, body rocking forward with each deep seat, tits dragging along the sheets, back holding that arch under his palm's pressure, thighs quaking faint as the slow grind builds the pressure anew.
 âLove it daddy, love pissinâ you off for thisâfuck me deep, please sir.â
Smokeâs grip tightens on her ass, spreading her cheeks farther to stare down at the sight, thick dick disappearing into her gripping pussy, lips hugging tight on the outstroke, cream frothing at the base where her hole milks him greedy. He picks up a fraction, strokes still deep but adding a twist at the end to nudge her g-spot, heavy balls swinging to smack her clit. Sweat beads his sculpted chest, biceps flexing as he holds her steady, heavy-lidded eyes tracing the messy union.
Each withdraw dragged her puffy lips outward, clinging to his veined length before he fed it back in full, pelvis slapping her ass cheeks with a meaty thud that echoed off the walls. His large hands overflow with her flesh, thumbs digging into the crease where thigh meets cheek to pry her wider, exposing the way her hole stretches taut around his girth, inner walls visible in flashes of pink and slick as cream bubbles fresh at the seam. Her asshole keeps up its subtle pulse above, ring contracting in time with her pussy's greedy squeezes, a faint sheen of her own leak trickling down to gloss it further.
Zariah twists her neck, cheek lifting off the damp sheets, eyes glassy and desperate locking onto his over her shoulder, those lips he loved so much parted on heavy breaths, kinky hair spilling wild across her back.Â
âDaddyâyyy,â she pleads raw, voice cracking high as one of her hands snakes down between her spread thighs, thumb finding her swollen clit to rub frantic circles, chasing the building coil. âPlease sir, harderâgimme more dick, I need it deep.â Her hips buck back insistent against his controlled pace, ass jiggling faint in his grip, pussy slurping louder on the next plunge as her walls clamp down fluttering.
âNot yet, brat,â he growls thick, voice rolling low, free hand sliding up her spine to press her chest flatter, keeping that arch locked while his hips roll weighted, grinding the curve of his dick against her front wall on every bury. âYou gonâ beg pretty for daddy first. Tell me how bad this pussy want itâhow you act up just to get stretched like this, leakinâ all over me, nasty girl.â He watches her fingers blur faster on her clit, the way her thighs start quaking harder. âYou feel how hard you holdinâ onto me? That stress been sittinâ in your body all damn week. Use me then, go âhead.âÂ
âDaddy, yes, I'm your bratty girl, piss you off for this dick every time,â Zariah whines, head turning full to hold his gaze, eyes pleading wide while her fingers grind her clit ruthlessly, body rocking violently now between his strokes and her own touch. Her eyes go cross eyed as she gushes fresh around him, walls rippling wild as the pressure crests, her back bowing deeper under his palm, ass pressing back to take him to the hilt. âDaddy, daddyâI'm squirting, oh fuck sir, it's cominââdon't stop, talk me through it please!â
Smoke leans forward slightly, chest brushing her back as one hand releases her cheek to tangle in her hair, yanking her head back gently but firm to keep those eyes on him, the other palm smacking her ass once sharp to jolt her higher. His strokes stay slow but deepen, twisting at the base to nudge her g-spot while her fingers strum.Â
âGood girl, there you do, baby girl, let it go for daddy. Feel that pussy squeezinâ me tight? You squirtinâ all over this dick, you can't help it. Push back on it, rub that clit harderâgimme that mess. You like beinâ handled, huh?â
âYesââ
âThatâs my baby right there.âÂ
His voice stays gravel-rough, guiding her edge with words as her body seizes, thighs locking, toes curling into the mattress, a sharp cry ripping from her throat.
Her squirt hits explosive, clear jets pulsing out around his buried length to spray his pelvis and thighs, puddling hot on the sheets below as her pussy convulses violently, clenching him in waves that force more cream to froth at the base. She stares back at him wild-eyed, mouth slack on gasps, fingers slowing sloppy through the aftershocks while he holds steady inside her, hips grinding minimal to prolong the clench, watching her leak mix with the spray in rivulets down her legs.
 âGood girl, just like thatâdaddy got you, keep cumminâ good tonight. There you go, let all that pressure out. Ainât nobody gonâ take care of you like me. Daddy got you. Been a mean bitch for so long ainât nobody fuck you stupid til I cam around,â Smoke pops her on the left cheek. âQuit actinâ tough and come get this comfort. Say, yes sir.âÂ
âYâyes, sir.âÂ
 âNow we gettinâ to the good part. Iâma move when you ready, but when I do, you gonâ feel every stroke. You with me? Say it.â
Zariah exhales, âIâm with you, daddy.â She grips the sheets.Â
âTalk to me, Zari. Words. You ready or daddy gotta give you a break?âÂ
Zariah sucks in air and lets it out meditating slow.Â
âIâm ready, sir.âÂ
Smoke's grip shifts lightning-quick from her hair to her shoulders, thick fingers clamping down over the knobs of bone there, palms splaying wide across her upper back to yank her torso up off the soaked sheets, forcing that spine into a brutal arch. Her head snaps upright, chin tucking toward her chest while her eyes glaze over fucked-out, pupils blown wide staring dead ahead at the headboard, mouth hanging slack on drooling whimpers, tongue lolling faint as spit beads at the corner. The new angle spears his dick straight down into her core, her ass cheeks spreading obscene on his pelvis with every hilt, pussy lips puffing out bloated and raw around the veined stretch, cream and squirt foaming thick at the root to splatter his heavy balls on the upstroke.
Smoke rears back tall behind her, knees digging wider into the mattress for leverage, broad shoulders rolling fluid as his dense core tightens, abs flexing solid under sweat-slick brown skin that gleams. Those rounded delts bunch heavy, veins popping along his forearms as he hauls her back onto him harder, his hips snapping forward with punishing force now, no more tease, full throttle wrecking. Each thrust lands weighted and final, his pelvis crashing her ass with claps that ripple flesh outward in waves, her cheeks clapping back against his thighs while her entire frame jolts forward violently, tits swinging beneath her to smack her ribs. The bed frame groans protest under the onslaught, pure power uncoiling from that grounded stance, thighs thick and corded pumping relentlessly.
Zariahâs body's a live wire in the pound, pussy walls seizing erratic around his plunging length, clenching desperate to hold him but fluttering loose on the withdraw, gushing fresh squirt in erratic sprays that arc down her quaking thighs to puddle wider on the sheets. Every bury shoves her forward an inch before his shoulder grip reels her back, her ass meat compressing flat against him then bouncing rebound, ripples traveling up her spine to make her curls lash wild. Her thighs attempt to lock rigid then spasm open, toes scrabbling, curling into the mattress as her belly sucks in hollow, ribs heaving under sweat-sheened skin, fucked-out stare fixed unblinking ahead, lashes fluttering half-mast while tears streak silent from the corners, jaw slack wider on guttural cries that pitch higher with each rip through her depths.
âThat little mean streak disappear fast when I touch you right. You been wantinâ this all day. Nah, stay right there I wanna watch you take itâlook at my girlâtake this dick tearinâ you open,â he rasps, drawl thickening hot over the wet slaps, one hand sliding from shoulder to tangle back in her hairâyanking her head higher to deepen the arch while the other digs into her shoulder, pinning her steady for the ram. His chest heaves, heavy breaths fanning her neck as he leans over partial, hips pistoning machine-like, balls swinging to batter her clit, smearing her mess back up her folds.Â
âFeel daddy rearranginâ your guts? You soaked the whole damn bed begginâ for itânow wet this dick up again while I pound you stupid. Arch that back deeper, push this ass on meâgimme that grip, baby. You gonâ relax for me or keep fightinâ me, baby?â
Zariah chokes out a keen, body betraying full surrenderâhips grinding back frantic despite the overwhelm, pussy convulsing in fresh spasms that squeeze him vise-tight, walls undulating a massage along every vein as another squirt builds from the core. Her arms buckle, elbows to the sheets, fingers clawing fabric while her tits drag heavy across the damp cotton, nipples scraping raw. Her entire frame shudders electric with the force, ass lifting instinctively to meet his slams even as her vision blurs white-hot ahead. Sweat rivers down her cleavage, pooling in her navel before dripping off to mix with the flood below, thighs slick and trembling spread wide around his pistoning thighs.
Smoke grunts approval low, pace ratcheting inhuman, thrusts blurring to a frenzy that shakes her teeth, his solid midsection slapping her ass endless while those large hands anchor her, veins throbbing prominent down his forearms from the haul. Sweat beads thick on his brow, trickling into the heavy stubble framing his jaw thatâs set hard, dark eyes locked on the destruction between her legs, watching her hole gape briefly on pulls before swallowing him balls-deep again.Â
âFUCK, just like thatâpussy talkinâ back to daddy, on every stroke.â His voice coaches steady through the chaos, drawl wrapping command around her haze as her body hurtles toward shatter again, the room thick with their slap-echo and her broken pleas. âBreathe through it. You can handle it. This what happen when you act like you don't need me tellin' you what to do. Next time you think about steppinâ out of line, you remember how this dick feel stretchinâ you open and makinâ you cum so hard you can't even talk.âÂ
Smoke yanks free with a wet pop that leaves her hole gaping, pink inner walls fluttering visible, clenching air desperate around nothing while thick strands of her cream stretch and snap between his retreating length and her wrecked folds. Frothy white coats his dick heavy from root to tip, balls glossy-slick swinging low and heavy beneath, veins pulsing prominent along his curved shaft.
 âFlip over, clean this dick spotless, baby,â Smoke orders, cutting sharp through her haze as one large hand strokes himself base-up lazy, smearing her mess while the other pats her ass firm to roll her.
Zariah twists compliant on trembling limbs, spine sinking into the drenched mattress as she sprawls supine, hair fanning wild across the pillow, belly quivering faint under the aftershocks. Her thighs splay wide, knees bending hooks toward her shoulders to bare everything, pussy on full display. Lips swollen fat and parted like it wanted to stay just like that from now on, flushed deep around the edges from the tear-up, inner pink glistening obscene under a sheen of her own squirt that drips lazy from her stretched entrance. Her clit hood peeled back partial, pearl throbbing exposed and raw, folds puffy-ridged from friction with cream beading fresh in the creases, entire slit pulsing like a heartbeat begging refill.
Smoke kneels up tall between her legs, knees bracketing her hips as he feeds his dick forward, tip bumping her lips expectant. Zariah cranes her neck, tongue darting out to lap broad from balls upward, tracing the heavy seam salty with her tang before sucking one orb full into her mouth, cheeks hollowing while her hand cups the other, rolling it. Up the shaft next, flat laps cleaning veins groove by groove, swirling the flared head to hollow her cheeks around it vacuum-tight, sucking her cream off audible with slurps that echo wet, spit mixing fresh to dribble down her chin as she moans low vibrations against him. His free hand dives between her thighs unhurried, palm cupping her mound full before thick fingers part those bloated lips wider, middle and ring sliding through the slick valley, parting her petals to expose that clenching core.
Feels like firework sparks when he rubs. Thick fingers coarse-knuckled dragging pressure perfect over her clit first, circling the hood lazy to make it twitch and swell fatter under the pad of his thumb joining in, then dipping lower to trace entrance rim where her walls suck greedy at the intrusion. That sweet pussy yields butter-soft inside, hot velvet clamping instant on the shallow probes, gushing syrupy response that coats his digits knuckle-deep. Each pass through her folds sends jolts electric up her spine. Zariahâs thighs jerked, spread while her hips buck faint to chase. Her outer lips drag sensitive along his palm skin, inner ridges fluttering as he massaged with his fingertips that scoop cream back up to smear her clit renewed, building that coil tight again with every glide.
Zariah polishes him thoroughly, tongue polishing the underside ridge before popping off clean with a gasp. Her hand wrapped around the base firm now to stroke with a upward twist, the skin gliding smooth over the cleaned glans while her gaze locks with his from below. Sultry heat simmers there, lids heavy-lidded fuck-drunk but sharp with desire, full lips curving wicked as teeth catch the bottom one, dragging slowly, holding his stare unblinking, challenge wrapped in surrender. Smoke groans deep, torso folding forward lean as his mouth crashes hers hungryâtongue thrusting his claim deep to tangle hers messy, tasting her own flavor shared while fingers keep working her pussy, two now plunging knuckle-deep to curl and hook against that front wall.
The kiss breaks on her whine, his beard rasping her chin, then his lips trail fire down her throat, nipping her collarbone before his palms scoop under her breasts heavy, thumbs flicking her chocolate nipples side-to-side to make them diamond-hard. Smoke kneads them, fingers sinking deep into the yielding flesh to shape and bounce them palm-to-palm, mouth latching hot over one peak to suck with a vacuum pull while his teeth graze faintly. His tongue lashes flat on her areolas before nibbling gently. Her strokes quicken on his dick, thumb swiping pre cum at his slit.
Smoke releases her nipple with a wet smack, lips glossy from the pull as his gaze lifts heavy to lock hers, dark eyes boring deep, one thumb still circling the slick peak lazy while the other hand squeezes her other titty, flesh spilling between fingers.Â
âGood girl, Zariah,â Smoke rumbles faintly, voice dipping low like thunder. âDaddy proud of youâŚtakinâ this dick so deep, stretchinâ that pussy perfect. Handlinâ yoâ punishment like a champ too, ass sore but you stayed right there, took every lick without runninâ.That's my baby.â
Zariah gasps sharp, hand tightening its stroke on his girthy dick, twisting from base to tip with precum and spit slicking the glide. Her eyes fluttered half-shut before snapping back to him.
 âYes,â she breathes out needy, hips rolling faint into his stalled fingers still buried knuckle-deep in her folds.
Smoke chuckles low, free hand sliding up her thigh to anchor as he pulls his fingers free with a squelch, strings of her arousal snapping clear.Â
âMmm, yeahâŚand that's why daddy spoil you rotten. Fuck you good whenever you crave it, eat that sweet pussy till you flood my face. You mine to treat right.â His mouth brushes her earlobe feather-light, beard scraping her chin. Â
âYes, baby, you always know what I need,â Zariah moans velvety, arching her back to press her titties fuller into his palm, legs parting wider. âI love how you treat me. I'm your princess.â Her lips part on a whine, gaze sultry, locked.
Smoke nods slow approval, torso unfolding tall as he nudges her knees wider, settling heavy between her thighs, dick bobbing thick upright against her mound, tip nudging her clit. Zariahâs body's pliant now, limbs loose-jointed from the haze, so he hooks his elbows under her knees easy, folding her double with her thighs pinned to her chest, calves framing his shoulders tight. That pussy blooms upward obscenely, outer lips mashed flat from how spread open she is, inner folds splayed wide and quivering, entrance winking creamy-pink around the void, clit mashed prominent and pulsing under the weight of his dick resting heavy along her slit. Cream pools fresh in the crease, dripping backward to lube her puckered hole.Â
Smoke notches his tip at her entrance, eyes never breaking hers, heavy-lidded stare pinning her soul-deep and thrusts in one long stroke, dick disappearing inch-by-thick-inch till his balls nestle snugly against her upturned ass, stretch burning visible in the way her walls bulge around all that girth.Â
âDamn, princess, pussy grippin' daddy tight like I ainât fucked you open,â Smoke praises, drawl stretching vowels lazy as his hips draw back on a slow drag, veins dragging friction along the inner ridges of her walls before snapping forward to bury fully again, pelvis slapping her ass with an audible wet sound. His Stroke pulls half-out next, her inner lips clinging reluctant to the retreat, then he plunges renewed, hitting that bottom with a grind that mashes her clit under his pubic bone. âYou know who this belong to. Don't you? Say it for me.â
âDaddyâs pussyâŚdaddyâs pussy.â Zariah whines.Â
âI see you. See how you holdin'mâ on. How you lettinâ me own this. You doinâ so good for me, Zari. Real good, baby.âÂ
Zariahâs folded frame shudders, tits squished between her thighs as her walls clamp on the invasion, sparks exploding core-deep from the deep hits that kiss her cervix. Each thrust sends ripples through her puffy, pussy lips, cream frothing white at the seal where he bottoms out, her breaths punching out on the reentries while her eyes stay fused to his, wide and glassy with the lock, lips mouthing silent pleas.Â
âAll this dick, baby, take it allâdaddy got you,â Smoke coos, pace building like a piston now, balls swinging tap-tap against her tailbone with every deep drive, his gaze unwavering intensely as he watches every twitch, every flutter, every jerk, every silent scream, every shake.Â
Smoke's stare sharpen like a predator, jaw clenching, eyes narrowing to slits while his hands clamp on the backs of her thighs, thumbs digging meaty divots to pin her folded frame immobile. He snaps his hips downward piston-hard, big dick plummeting into her splayed pussy with a wet schlap that echoes off the walls, balls slapping her ass crack heavy before the recoil yanks him half-out only to hammer back in, burying full.
No words now, just breath hissing through his teeth, chest heaving as he tunnels, each drop stroke burying to the hilt, dick dragging brutal against her clamping walls that suck reluctantly at the retreat. His pace ratchets machine-steady, bedframe groaning under and the mattress dipping deep where his toes anchored. Sweat beads his temple and trails down, dripping onto her upturned tits that jiggle chaotic with every impact, nipples peaked tight from the frenzy.
Zariah's moans rip free raw, high-pitched keens fracturing into throaty wails that bounce off the ceiling, back arching futile against the fold as her thighs quake trapped in his hold. Her manicured acrylic nails rake fire-trails down his bulging biceps, carving pink welts into the sweat-slick skin that flexes corded under the gouge. Her calves locked rigid around his shoulders while her toes splay then curl tight, soles cramping from the building blaze. That battered pussy convulses wildly around his invading girth, cream gushing frothier at the seal with every plunge, inner muscles fluttering desperately to milk on those veins pulsing hot inside her. That curve hitting spots that make her dizzy. That tip kissing the back of her pussy, making her stomach clench.Â
Tension coils her belly taut, breaths punching erratic as sparks ignite white-hot, walls seizing brutally on the next drop that kisses her spot, and she shatters. Squirt erupts forceful, clear jets arcing from her spasming slit to splatter his abs, soaking the shaft still lodged halfway as her pussy clamps and ejects, flooding the crease between her ass cheeks in hot rivulets that puddle onto the sheets, dampening it dark beneath her. Zariahâs body bucks helplessly in Smokeâs fold, eyes rolling on a scream that shreds hoarse while her nails dig crescent moons into his forearms.
Smoke grunts low once, chest rumbling the sound, before yanking free with an obscene squelch, dick springing upright glossy and throbbing, veins livid against the slick sheen of her release coating every inch from balls to tip. He unfolds her legs, thighs blooming wide as gravity settles her limp, then shoulders between them roughâhead dipping low to seal his full lips hot over her quivering pussy. That thick tongue plunges flat and broad through her splayed folds, lapping the gush pooled in her entrance like a glutton, tongue flicking up to swirl her clit hood and those lips start sucking the pulsing nub vacuum-tight. Smoke smacked his lips wet, devouring every drop. His thick fingers splay her lips wider, exposing the pink inner clench still fluttering post-squirt, and he tongues deep inside to scoop the cream hollowing her out, beard scraping thighs raw as nose buries into her mound drag her scent full lungs.
Zariah stared down at him dumbfounded. She didnât have the capacity to form words. He was eating her pussy up and even her twitching didnât stop him from overstimulating her.Â
Her vision blurred as aftershocks ripple through her, body slack against the soaked sheets, chest rising and falling shallow while her pussy throbs exposed, folds. Moans spill lazy from her throat, fracturing into his name drawn long and needy
âSmoke...SmokeâŚâ her hips canting, rolling her slick pussy against his locked mouth, grinding her clit over his probing tongue that flicks non-stop like a propeller. Her thighs clamp his ears, heels digging into his back to pull him tighter into her drenched heat, cream smearing into his beard thick as she chases the friction through the daze, palming the top of his low cut ceasar with the deep waves.
Smokeâs growl vibrates low against her pussy before he lifts, his face slick-shined, eyes burning dark into hers, jaw set granite
âGonâ nut so deep in this pussy, lock it down tight.â No pause, Smoke surges up fluid, knees bracketing her hips, one hand fisting the base of his dick slick-heavy to notch his tip bluntly at her fluttering hole, then he slams home in a single thrust, burying balls-deep with a meaty thwack that jolts her tits.
Silence is only broken by skin-slaps wet, his powerful hips snapping, pulling that dick to drag slow, veins bulging against her pussy grip before dropping to grind deep with a roll of his hips. His pace builds, thighs flexing like steel under sweat rivers carving paths down his obliques, abs clenching ridge-defined with every plunge that stretches her walls around that curved dick invading her pussy. The headboard thumped the wall with dull thuds while his heavy balls swung to slap her ass cheeks spread wide, drawing creamy froth at the seal to drip down her crack.
Zariahâs moans pitch frantically while her hands claw his shoulders, gouging fresh welts into the flexing traps. Her Legs hook his waist and she locks her ankles to pull him deeper, pussy clenching, ridges pulsing hot inside, and her words tumbled desperate to coach him through.Â
âThis yoâ pussy, Smokeâcum in yoâ pussy, big daddy...fill this pussy up, give it all...show me who this pussy belong to. Tear it up, big daddyâŚstretch me outâŚahhhânnghhhâbig ass dickâŚohâŚbig dickâyes, right there, right there, donât stop, stroke itâyessss.â Her voice cracks husky, hips bucking in a counter-rhythm.Â
Smokeâs groan shreds guttural, throat raw cords straining as his eyes bore into hers unblinking, heavy-lidded slits flaring wide with the lock. His muscles are cable-tight across his shoulders, biceps ballooning veins livid under her rake, traps bunching while his quads quake to brace the final drives. That big dick swells thicker mid-thrust, tip flaring to kiss her depths, and he eruptsâballs drawing up tight, contracting, pulsing thick-hot ropes to flood her clenching channel and paint her walls white. His thrusts stutter shallow, grinding his thick seed deeper, damn near churning it to froth with her cream, that veiny beast jerking erratic against the flutter, that pussy milking every drop while an overflow seeps slow down her ass. His groan drags endless, chest heaving bellows against her neck, forehead dropping to hers sweat-slick as the last pulse fades, his body a heavy drape over her pinned frame.Â
Smoke eases his thick, curved dick out of Zariah's soaked pussy inch by inch, letting her feel every ridge and stretch as he pulls free. The wet slide leaves her entrance fluttering, slick with their mixed fluids. He stays close, one broad hand resting on the curve of her hip while he watches her body settle.
âYou took all that dick so good for me, baby. Real good. My pretty girl handled every inch. See? Ainât gotta fight me all the time. Câmere, pretty girl.â
Smoke leans down and presses his lips to her forehead, then again just above her brow, then once more near her hairline. Three kisses that linger each time.
âStay right there. Donât move.â
Smoke stands, his heavy frame casting a shadow over her sprawled form. Zariah lies on her side like a goddess, long legs slightly parted, rich brown skin glowing with sweat and satisfaction, full lips curved in a lazy smile from being fucked so thoroughly. Her narrow waist and soft hips look even more inviting in the afterglow. Smoke steps away toward the bathroom first, turning on the jacuzzi tub so warm water starts filling with steady jets. The sound of bubbles fills the space. He then leaves the room entirely to head for the kitchen.Â
On his way out. He glances back at her again.Â
âStay right there. I'll be back to get you in a minute.â
About ten minutes goes by and Zariahâs phone rings while sheâs still sprawled on the bed, freshly fucked and glowing. She reaches for it lazily, answering with that professional tone she keeps for work.Â
âHey, itâs Z. EllieâŚhey. Yeah, Iâm here. Whatâs going on?â
Ellie, her publicist starts rattling off a packed scheduleâmore shoots, events, back-to-back bookings for the next month. Zariah listens, nodding along even though no one can see her, her voice calm and composed.
Smoke walks back into the room carrying the tray with her herbal tea and water. He sets it down, eyes locking on her. That look says everything without a word. He steps closer, takes the phone right out of her hand, and brings it to his ear.
âEllie, right? Listen, she gonâ need a week off. Clear the next seven daysâyes, a week. Yâall can make it happen.â His voice is final. He hangs up before the publicist can reply.
Zariah sits up a little, mouth opening to protest. âSmokeââ
He leans in and kisses her, slow and with tongue, cutting off whatever she was about to say. When he pulls back, his hand cups her jaw, thumb brushing her full lower lip.
âYou gonâ need some rest and relaxation. I plan to fuck you and eat that pussy in every room of this place. You hear me?â
Zariah stares at him, that familiar tension flickering between themâher independence brushing up against his weight. Smoke doesnât move. He just waits, eyes steady on hers. Slowly, she melts, no need to fight him when truthfully she could use a little break. And seven full days of back-to-back sex with her big, bad, man? Hell yeah.Â
âSay it. Yes, daddy.â
Zariah exhales, shoulders softening the way they do when she chooses to meet him. Her voice comes out quiet but clear.Â
âYes, daddy.â
He gon put that DIQUE on you đŞ
her name was Juniper Blessing, she was 19 and she was just doing her laundry
The family of the 19-year-old atmospheric and earth sciences major released a statement on Thursday.
âHe donât know he a slave, and thatâs my fault.â âNo, thatâs massaâs fault, for turninâ us into somethinâ we ainât supposed to be.â

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THAT'S SO RAVEN (2003-2007) S3E10 'True Colors'
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH YALL!!!

