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11h

No Funny Business

Elias Stack Moore x Married!Black!!OC to John Sampson

MDNI // Explicit // WC: 10k // I don't really know what or how to tag this one for real, voyeurism, light smut, Stack tries to get involved with another man's wife and gets his ass beat, there's a point where reader says stop and he does,blood, violence, poor attempt at period accurate vernacular // masterlist //

uhh, shout out my first sinners fic. . . make some noise!!!

Stack pushed open the door of the car, leaning on it for support. The moment his foot touched down onto the soft soil his knee buckled. He cursed, gripping the door more tightly.

He moved slow. His head throbbing like hell. His entire body ached like something fierce. Opening the door was easy, but closing it was much harder. He forgot to keep his head up and another stream of blood flooded from his nose onto the door, over his hands.

"Fuck." His voice was hoarse, warbled beyond recognition. He sounded like a stranger to his own ears. His body punished him for it immediately, sending him into coughing fit that left him covered in more blood than he already was. Dried patches of it littered his torn shirt. His suit jacket had seen better days.

One step, two step. One step, two step. He repeated the mantra over and over. He just needed to get inside.

"What the fuck happened to you?"

Elijah blew out a stream of smoke in his face and then he took a sip of his whisky. His subtle way of rubbing it in. His face drawn in his usual unmoving frown that was hair away from a scowl.

"Shut the fuck up and give me a drink!" Stack snapped. Finally able to take a seat.

Smoke gave him a heavy pour and wordlessly passed the glass.

Stack sighed, shaking his head before weakly bringing the glass to his lips. Almost half of it slipped down his chin. In any other sate, he would have cursed at the waste of liquor. but now? All he could do was silently let it fall and pretend it never happened.

" 'Told you going to her was a bad idea."

Stack rolled his eyes and smacked his teeth. Before his lips could even touch his teeth good, white hot pain shot through his face.

He winced and sunk down further in his glaring at his glass and remaining silent, ignoring that once again his brother was right and he was wrong.

"What we doing here, Elias?" Smoke glared at his brother.

Elias rolled his eyes at the way Smoke used his government name, signaling he was in trouble for something.

"Easy, Smoke." He explained calmly, "We just going pop in, say hi, and get the go bag from an old thing o' mine."

"You gave one of our bags to some woman?" Smoke's voice took on a dangerous edge, but it along with the glint in his eye rolled over Stack like water. As dangerous as his brother was, it was all huffing and puffing where Stack was concerned.

"I said take it easy, brother. This ain't just any woman. She good for it. You'll know when you see her."

Smoke didn't say anything and just glared at him. Stack gave him a big grin and knocked on the door.

A voice softly called from behind it, and they waited.

It was unusually hot this summer in Chicago. The little neighborhood was picturesque. White picket fences and everything. Almost too grand for colored folks to be caught loitering about, but surprisingly that's who they saw around these fancy little homes. They weren't the biggest houses, but it was clear these people had it going on with what little factory jobs and little house maid money they slaved away at and for.

'Evenin,' the pretty soft voice started, 'How can I help—"

"Evening, Netty." Stack grinned even wider for her. "I heard you was married now. Congratulations. We—" Before he could even charm her good, Smoke pressed a gun into her head and drove her back into the house. Stack pursed his lips and closed the door behind them.

"Where's the bag, Antoinette."

"Have you lost your mind?!" Stack covered the barrel with his hand, but Smoke didn't back away.

He cocked the gun.

Antoinette sniffled. Tears already streaming down her face. Her legs were practically shaking.

"Smoke, stop! That's enough!"

After thirty hard seconds, Smoke uncocked the gun and put it back in the holster at his side.

"She make you lose your head, little brother." Smoke warned, locking eyes with him. "Make sure that don't happen this time."

Relief flooded through Stack's chest.

He nodded and Smoke nodded back.

It was a play.

They hadn't done his one in a long while, but it makes sense. They made it up for her.

Netty was there go-to fir stashing things when they first came around the city, but she never would say yes easy. It always took too long, and as Smoke always annoyingly says time is money, waste his and he'll kill you, but they couldn't say nothing like that to little Netty, who thought of them as a couple down on their luck boys who occasionally did bad things just so they could eat. Who made sure they were fed, would find shelters and churches to take them in when they didn't have no where to go, or sometimes let them stay at her place or a friend's.

They got close.

And that's when he came up with this plan with Smoke.

She was scared of Elijah.

Ain't nothing they could do about it. They tried everything, but he always did put her on edge. So they had Smoke lean into it, really scare her, and then Stack makes him go away, reminds her of all the ways she feels safe with him, sometimes a little something else too, and then she eventually agrees to do what they ask.

"Sorry 'bout that nigga." Stack apologized. "You know how he is." He approached her slowly, holding out his arms to stand her back up, keep her shaking legs steady.

"What do you want, Elias." She tried to sound brave, but her voice was shaking. She wouldn't even raise her head up to look at him.

He licked his lips.

"Been a while since I heard anyone call me that." He rubbed small circles into her side. Instead of leaning into his touch, into him. She remained still, barely reacting to it. His chest pulled tight, but he didn't sweat it. He wouldn't.

It's been a long time. That was all.

"She put her face into her hands and let out a heavy sigh.

"You sent Mary to get your bag about a month ago." She looked up at him and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. His breath caught in his throat. Her big doe eyes never failed to leave him breathless. Even now in her older age, she held a baby doll like beauty. Her full little plump lips looked more kissable than ever. She was tall compared to most women, but next to him she couldn't seem more petit.

His brain finally registered what she said.

"I didn't send no Mary for the bag."

You crossed your arms and tilted your head. "She had your business ring and your old chain around her neck. Said that you sent her to personally get the bag."

"Fuck!" Elias dragged a hand down is face.

Just what had Mary done?

What she need to take the money and run for? He would have set what ever went wrong straight. She knew that. She knows what Smoke will do when he finds out.

Whatever plan they had for being in this together were good as gone now if she their money.

"She even told me y'all was fuckin'." Netty laughed, the sound a little cruel but sickly sweet.

Stack snapped his up get a good look at her face as she made the sound. Nothing about Antoinette was cruel. She was a sweet, good little girl. Was it her husband? Did he do something to ruin sweet little Netty?

"I didn't see what that had to do with me. No part of me has burned for you in a long time." She looked out the big window in the living room. The blinds drawn, letting the sunshine in, showing off their perfect grass. Smoke was glaring at them by the car. He was too far away in the driveway to see his face exactly, but he knew his brother was glaring at him.

"You lyin." Elias gave her a heavy look.

Netty nodded, still refusing to look at him. After a few beats she eventually looked up to give him an equally as cruel look as she slowly dragged her tongue across her teeth. He watched it poke through her tightly closed mouth, narrowing his eyes as she did. What kind of man turns a nice girl into something like this?

"He take care of you?" He asked coldly, "treating you right?"

"You mean John?"

Elias flinched. Something about knowing his name don't sit right in his belly.

"Why you actin' like this?" He protested. "This ain't who you are, Netty. You're not—"

"I'm not what Elias!" she snapped. "If you so concerned with what I am and what I ain't maybe you should have became a real man! The man I needed you to be, but we both know that wasn't and ain't ever gonna happen, so why pretend to care, huh?" She scoffed. "You lost the privileged to care when you didn't take the way out I gave you. . . . but that was also before I found out about all the different women you was fucking."

He pressed his lips together hard and slow, pursing them into a thin line.

"I need to step outside and talk with my brother real quick." He straightened his jacket. "When I get back, you can try your little lie again." He scoffed lightly, "Maybe I'll believe you after hearing it a second time."

"What lie?! At what point have I said a lie?!?!" She waived her hands as she fussed.

He turned around, walking towards the door. "The one about you no longer burning for me." He called back after her.

She could deny it all she wanted, but it was all over her.

"We got a problem."

Smoke tossed his cigarette and stepped on what was left.

"What kind of problem?"

"A Mary problem."

He filled Smoke in on what Netty had told him.

"Something ain't right with that story."

"How so?" Elias blinked.

Like you said, Mary confronting another girl she think got a chance with you makes sense, but she wouldn't steal a score. She know better."

Elias raised his eyebrows at that. Praise don't come easy from Elijah, especially when it came to Mary and how she worked with them.

"Besides," he continued, "she knows what I would do to her if she did."

Of course it was a mostly a threat, but he would take it. That was one of the nicest things he'd ever heard his brother say where Mary was concerned. He smiled, imaging the look on her face when he gets the chance to tell her.

"Pay attention." Elijah smacked him in the chest with the back of his hand.

"You stay here and I'll go track down Mary."

Stack knew exactly where his brother was headed.

"I'll find out what about Netty's story don't add up or see what else going on."

Smoke nodded.

"I'll send word in three days on what's goin on with Mary."

"If you don't hear word from me back, we meet at the spot outside of town on the way up the road to where Mary is. " Stack explained. "Halfway point. . . .that little secret bar."

They hugged.

"Coming here was bad news. You should probably come with me." Elijah said in a low voice. "You can't think straight when it come to Antoinette. You gonna fuck this up somehow and I won't be here to make sure you won't."

"And what if the money is here?" Stack smacked his teeth. "Imma be careful. Just take it easy brother." He patted Smoke on the back.

"Love you."

Elias quietly closed the door behind him. The engine of their car rumbled off in the distance.

He followed the soft knocking sound until he found Netty chopping away in the kitchen.

"Smell mighty good in here! What we eating?"

Her nose crinkled up just like it used to. Always cute when she frowned .

"What you still doing here?"

"I need a place to stay."

Netty stopped what she was doing looked at him out the corner of her eye.

"Okay, Elias."

That was too easy. It shouldn't have been that easy.

"What you hiding from me?"

Netty kept chopping.

"Was Mary even here?"

"She's you're woman Elias." Netty said flatly.

"You want cornbread or rolls with dinner?" She changed her tone like it was nothing. "My husband doesn't have a preference. His favorite bread of choice is biscuits, and if it was up to him, we'd have them with every meal. . ."

She continued talking like nothing was wrong. Like what was happening wasn't. He didn't care about none of that.

He wanted to touch her.

Turn her world upside down and shake it up like he used to, like he was born to do. He reached out to put hand on her waist and do just that.

"LIL' BIT!" a low deep voice called out in worry.

"J-John!" Netty answered with concern. 'What's wrong! What happened?!" she kept going, not letting him answer. "Why you home so early?"

The biggest man Stack ever saw ducked his head under the door. He had a navy workman's suit on. Smut and dust from the factory covered the face and hands of his warm honey brown skin. His thick crop of hair and bushy beard an odd look for the sleek windy city of Chicago.

He'd seen boys and men that all the Mommas and Aunties would call country big. The stocky men with barrel chest and thick arms that could pick up and man handle cattle and the fattest hogs like they were nothing, but this was beyond that. He was just . . large.

He and Elijah were a nice strong build, but he was sure this man's biceps was as big as his head.

"This who you married, Netty?!?!" Elias couldn't help himself, looking the man up d down with a bemused look.

The big man narrowed his eyes at him.

Before Elias could put on his charm or get abetter look at the man to see what he was about, he was being flung against the wall. Massive hands twisted up in his shirt and dragged him up until he was eye level with him.

"Why I get a call about some man putting a gun to your head while I'm work, baby? This the motha fuckuh' that did that to you?" He was talking to his wife, but from the hard look he was giving Elias as he dangled him off the ground as he spoke suggested otherwise.

"Wasn't me, It was my brother." He defended himself calmly. "Swear to God."

"Then where the fuck is your brother?" His hands gripped his shirt tighter, pulling at the fabric until it constricted his throat, making it harder and harder to breath.

"He. . . gon'." was all Elias could mutter out.

"What kind of man puts a gun to a woman's head?" He chokes Elias harder, keeping him from breathing. He was sure he was gray at this point from how tight his grip was. His lungs burn and his head screamed with pain. He pawed at the much larger hands, hitting scraping, scratching, anything he could do to get himself free before he stopped breathing completely.

This big ass nigga was going to kill him!

"John stop!" Netty screamed. "You'll kill him! Who's gonna take care of me if you in jail!"

"Antoinette." John said low, too soft to be a whisper. Not moving an inch as he kept choking Elias. "Who the fuck is this nigga in my house?"

"That's Elias." she said flatly."

"Oh," John stopped choking him and placed him gently back on the ground until he was standing still on his own two feet. "Why didn't you say so, baby?"

He turned towards Antoinette, so Elias couldn't see his face no more, but even if he wanted to, he couldn't.

Elias was busy doubling over trying to catch his breath, greedily taking in gasps and gasps of air. While he thanked the Lord for another day, Netty and her husband exchanged a few words he couldn't make out.

By the time he could stand back up, he saw the man pull you into his chest. You nuzzled into him and wrapped your arms around his back.

Stack watches as they both muttered sweet nothings he couldn't hear. How they absentmindedly rubbed their hands on each others back or arm or whatever part of each other there hands could get to.

"I'm alright. Please. . . He just all bark."

Elias looked away and started straightening his jacket on his shoulders until it was back in place. Slowly, he dragged his fingers across the brim of his hat. A smooth chocolate brown that went well with the flecks of pink he paired it with in his shirt and his pocket square. The color made the gold that littered his fingers and sparkled in his mouth that more dazzling.

"Go 'on and start the bath so we can wash up for dinner." Netty's husband's voice filled up the space of the room. A deep voice like his could only go so soft, but the way he was trumpeting it like he was in some fancy band show, you couldn't tell.

" I'll finish up for you here, and then me and you're old friend can share some more words. . . I'll behave."

And she went right a long with the music. Any fight or trepidation she had for Elias fizzled out to nothing. Stack huffed to himself at the thought.

"You promise?"

He brushed his hands up and down her back.

This nigga way laying it on thick.

"Cross my heart," he somehow softened his gravelly ass voice even lower, "go on' now."

Netty hesitated for just a second.

Then she started to take a few steps back. As she walked back she held out her hands and John held out his, both of them letting their hands brush agent one another before she ultimately turned around to walk up the steps.

As her footsteps faded away John went to the sink and methodically washed his hands.

Then he turned to the counter and started chopping away at the bunch of greens she had already rolled up and half cut.

He bent over, stretching out his body and peeping out the door and up towards the stairs, watching and listening carefully as your footsteps faded away.

He finished up what he was chopping and tossed it into the pot on the stove. Once he completed the action meticulously a handful of times, he turned back to Elias.

"Have a seat and we can talk about what you came here for."

The stove clicked to life. The little flame dwindling down as be set it on low.

Elias didn't move right away to sit at the table nearby in its own little room by the kitchen. The French doors already pulled back with their chiffon linen curtains pinned neatly along side them.

John pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down with one hand.

"Thank—"

Before he could even sit down good, a massive bear paw smacked him across the face— back handed. Stack stumbled onto the ground without so much as an oof. The wind getting knocked out of him with it.

John unzipped the top of his workman's suit and let it hang off his waist before he sat down.

"That's for letting your brother put his hands on my wife."

Stack didn't comment, straightening his clothes just like he had before, taking his time before he sat back down.

He dragged a finger across the brim of his hat even slower than before, snapping his wrist at the end.

John huffed out a laugh and wryly grinned.

"I got your bag by the way."

Whatever ill will Elias was feeling tampered down half way at his words, but only half, He went dangerously still.

"Don't worry, I didn't take nothing out of it.' John leaned back in his seat, the wood straining lightly under his weight as he did. "Wouldn't want to. I like to work hard for what I got . . . Honest work." he added.

"Don't talk like you know about me!" Stack slammed his fist on the table. "You don't know what I been through! You ain't grow up with the nothing I had—"

"You think you the only black man to grow up in this world poor! With all the odds stacked against you so it can stay that way!" John scoffed. "I work two to three jobs because I don't believe them white folks are gonna let me keep this house! My wife used to work two, but eventually we got to a place where she can just work one! She gets up everyday before the crack of dawn to get to her job, but she still finds the time to pack me a lunch, leave breakfast on the stove, and get home early enough to take care of the house and start on dinner! If you weren't so focused on what you can take from her, and what she cold do for you, maybe you would have noticed how fucking tired she was!" he spat, pointing a finger at him.

"Don't talk to me about your fucking choices when they make it harder for honest hard working people like us!"

He stood up not even sparing Elias a glance.

"I stashed your bag somewhere outside of my house because I didn't want no police or strangers, like some fucking white woman, coming to my house and asking me questions about things I don't know about. Being black don't get you no reasonable doubt, just consequences."

Stack lit a cigarette. He flicked his lighter closed and placed it back into his pocket. He took a long slow drag before pushing out a cloud of smoke. The slowly fading white tendrils made him think of his brother.

How he prolly would have killed this nigga an hour or two ago. How he wouldn't let no man talk to him like that, but Stack learned not to cower to every big man large enough to remind him of his father. He learned with Smoke in the army how to hold his head high and talk his shit. He prolly held onto talking more, but someone had to between the two of them. Lord knows if it was up to Smoke, they would have enemies no matter where they went.

Stack always made sure they had a few friends.

He just wasn't betting on little Netty's husband on being so. . .what he was.

Stack sighed.

"Nice speech Fredrick Douglass." Stack took another drag of his cigarette. "If you don't get me my bag in three days or less," He gave the man a serious look, "I'll kill ya'."

John huffed again, giving him that unimpressed smirk of a smile Stack wanted nothing more than to carve off his face with the knife on his hip.

"You can try." he chuckled like someone said something funny.

He turned away, not paying Stack no mind, making his way up the steps his wife went up moments ago. "There's a bathroom down the hall on the left. Wash up for dinner."

His heavy footsteps ascended their way up the steps.

Dinner was a bit awkward, but Elias wouldn't let it show.

Netty and her husband talked to one another like he wasn't there. He acted like he was okay with that, played the perfect guest even if his "hosts" weren't payin' him no mind.

"There's some left over pie in the icebox if you want some." Netty smiled at him, taking up his plate.

Elias returned the gesture with a wide grin. "If you made it, I'll eat it."

"Let me warm it up for you." She placed the pie pan on the counter and began cutting a piece.

"You want some, baby?"

"Nah, I'm alright. Go'on ahead and give sum' to Elias."

"Stack had his fork n his hand ready for some pie, he was about to ask Netty if there was any whip cream, but he let it clatter to the table.

"Don't call me that." he said lowly. "She can call me that, but you can't. You call me Stack."

"Okay, Stack." John sat back and finished off his drink, acting like his words didn't mean nothing. Not giving him the respect he was owed. Two can play at that game. . .for now at least.

Elias wouldn't let it slide again.

"Let me show you to your room." Netty placed a hand on his back and waited for him to stand before placing his dessert in his hand. "You can take it up with you and bring the plate back down in the morning."

Elias stared up at the ceiling. The empty plate and fork sat idly on the nightstand.

He didn't want the pie no more at first, but it was warm and the longer he let it sit, the more the smell wafted into his nose and the harder it was to ignore it.

His hat lay on the dresser and his jacket on a stray hanger in the empty guest room closet. His shoes neatly lined at the bed. As comfortable as it was, he couldn't find it in him to lay underneath the sheets and comforter.

He got up and slowly opened the door.

He should have been able to guess how big Netty's husband was.

Looking at it now, the house was filled with very large furniture.

He looked at the little cluster of wedding pictures on the wall in their living room. Some friends and family of Antoinette's he could remember, some he didn't recognize.

Mr. Big Man had a brother, but he was no where near as large. There was a picture of them standing on either side of a little old lady that must be their mother.

He looked at the paint on the walls, the finish on the floors, and the type of furniture.

This was Netty's dream house.

The house she used to imagine when she talked about getting married way back when. When she dreamed of getting out of Chicago and seeing the world. . .when she still had room in her heart for him.

He pawed absentmindedly at his chest. trying to settle his heart that started thrumming at an uncomfortable rhythm.

He didn't want to look around no more.

He walked back up the steps as quietly as he could, ignoring how the white french walls were closing in around him.

"He's going to try to have sex with me." Netty's voice carried into the hall. Stack stood quietly by the door, out of sight.

They were taking down the decorative pillows and putting them to the side, so they could go to bed.

"Can't you just give him his bag and send him on his way." She pleaded and crawled onto the bed, scooting over until she was in front of him.

"If he puts his hands on you, he's dying." John huffed, placing his arms around her until his palms rested on her back and she bounced on the mattress in front of him. She reached for his waste in a similar embrace.

"If you try to kill him, you go to jail, the last thing I need is you going to jail."

"How many times you gonna cry about me going to jail," he sighed.

She gave him a look.

"I'll settle for beating his ass until he wish he dead. How 'bout that?"

Netty hummed, now giving him a disapproving look.

"Okay, baby." She relented, nuzzling into his chest.

"Okay." He smiled and hugged her further into his chest. "Need you to turn around and bend over, baby."

Netty made a small disgruntled noise.

"Can we —"

"Nahh," John pulled away holding her at arms length and then placing both hands on the side of her face. "You know the rules."

Netty practically shivered before she did as he said, bending over and raising her ass. her knees snugly bent at either side as she went face first into the mattress, turning her head so she could still breath.

Her nightgown pooled at her waist, leaving her exposed.

Elias bit his lip to keep from swearing at the sight.

"I know, I just thought you might be open to a suggestion or tw— ooooh fuck."

John lazily dragged two fingers into her pussy and dragged them out. Her hips immediately started following the slow unhurried thrust of his hand.

"Not when you let strange men in my house. We doin' this how I want as long as I want." He chided.

Elias couldn't help himself. Shamelessly, he pulled out his dick. It throbbed, heavy in his hand, tip leaking as he palmed himself in time with the small movements of Netty's hips on her husbands hand.

Damn, she was fine.

She wasn't this freaky when they were younger, either.

"Maybe next time baby." He bent over and kissed her on the forehead. While she chassed the friction of his hand, lost in his tender display of affection. John pulled himself out his sleep pants.

Stack couldn't look away quick enough. This nigga's dick was ridiculously big. Ain't no reason for God to make a man that big. He already a giant. He don't need to have it both ways.

Nigga gotta have a flaw somewhere.

Netty's pussy was just as perfect as he could remember. His dick twitched In his hand at how wet she was, how her husband's fingers made her even wetter.

She jeweled when he started slipping inside her.

"Relax baby," John cooed slurring his words together with a low rumble of his voice.

"You got about halfway to go. Need you to loosen up some more," he hummed, placing his hand between them to rub gently at her clit with the pad of his thumb.

Netty mewls, gripping harder at the sheets.

"You shouldn' be this tight. . only fucked you jus' this mornin'. . ."

Either it was his voice or his hand that did the trick, her hips bumping into her husband's with a little wet plap as she suddenly took the rest of him.

"You scared, Lil Bit?" John urged her on with a low voice, pulling his hips back until he was only tip in and thrusting back into her until the same little wet sound filled the air.

Netty muttered a sound into the sheets, but Elias couldn't tell if she was telling her husband yes or no, if she was saying anything to him at all ,or murmuring wordless prayers to the Lord above.

It ain't matter because he kept going, teasing her with the slow heavy strokes of his dick.

Elias was loosing his mind, fucking into his own hand and biting his lip like hell.

The subtle burn in his lip as he did was more than enough to curve off his steadily building desire. How hard he was aching.

His tip leaked, pathetically wet, making him pray the wet sounds of his hand sliding up and down his dick in pace with Netty's hips wasn't loud enough for them to hear, loud enough to make them stop and investigate.

"Nah you ain't scared, baby." He said in a low sultry murmur, "you excited."

He started fucking her like a man possessed.

Elias couldn't move his hand fast enough.

The bounce of her ass on his hips and how it jiggled, how from here he could see the recoil was strong enough to reach John's soul. How he couldn't look away as he pounded into her, filling up their home with Netty's pretty little sounds.

'J-John." She gasped, almost choking on a moan. She put her hand back, nails scraping weakly at his abdomen, but it did little to stop the heavy onslaught of her husband's hips. He smirked, moving a hand from her waist to grab her palm and kiss her finger tips.

"You take it so good Lil Bit." He let it go and gripped her wast harder. " Now put your hand down before I put 'em down for you. . . you remember last time."

Netty instantly put her hands down bunching the sheets between her fingers.

He slapped her ass hard, making a whimper fall from her lips and her ass shake heavenly from the impact.

Fuck!

Elias wished she'd do it again.

He wanted to see her ass shake like that one more time . . so he could imagine having have her underneath him just like that, begging for mercy. She was getting wetter. He could tell from how it sang from here. Each time her husband pulled back, he hoped to catch a glimpse of Netty's pussy.

They were so loud he didn't have to worry about being found out. The pace went from torturously slow to something so good, he had to pause, and squeeze himself tight to hold the pressure but keep himself from bustin' too soon.

Precum dribbled uncontrollably from his tip, making his hand that much more slippery over himself. He couldn't move it fast enough or hold himself hard enough as he fucked into his hand in pace with Netty's ass on her husband's hips.

Ole boy was a monster. He was barely breaking a sweat, but Netty was at her limit. He could hear it in her voice, from the way everytime he thrust forward, her hips started to cant up to get away.

"You so close baby.' John moaned lowly, "I can feel it. . .so why you running?" he licked his lips and pulled her back to match each thrust of his hips. "We agreed, remember?"

John must have moved his hips, moved you, or thrust a little harder, because Netty made a little oof like the air was punched out her lungs before cumming around his dick with a drawn out moan, making John's dick glisten as he fucked her through it, not even slowing down a bit.

Elias hissed, he stopped again to keep form cumming.

His dick bobbed against him.

He could barely keep the whimper from bubbling in his troat a he did. He looked away for just a second to calm himself some. He could hear John slow some, but it was just for his wife. His low voice barely registered in the hall. Stack's blood was rushing too furiously in his ears and body for him to hear, but from the tone, he could tell he was mumbling sweet words and praises as Netty whimpered and writhed underneath him, The sheets shuffling as he started fucking her at a more gentle pace. The wet wringing sounds of her pussy trying to keep up, did nothing to help Elias.

He opened his eyes, chancing another glance.

At that moment. John pulled out, exposing her pretty fat little sopping wet pussy, covered in her own arousal. He grabbed his dick, teasing her with his tip, giving her break.

With each swipe of his thick mushroom tip, more of her arousal would gush around it, coating her walls and forming a little glossy pool at her entrance, kissing the tip of his dick and forming a little line as he pulled it back and did it again and again.

Elias could barley move fast enough to cover his dick with one hand and bite the other as ropes of his cum started spurting out dick in thick stripes. He silently curses as he makes a mess of himself. Pathetically hiding his whimpers. It was warm as it trickled down over his fingers hat latched weakly against his dick. A low drawn out whine leaves his lips as his dick softens, still half hard as he was barely close to anywhere near satisfied.

The bed creaks as they move, but Stacks no longer watching.

As quickly and as quietly as he can, Elias skirts back into his room and closes the door behind him. The sound of their bed creaking and hips slapping against each other starts up again, much harder than before, but not as quickly. The sounds barely muffled by the door.

Elias tries to ignore it. To ignore them, but his body betrays him. His dick hardening rapidly as Netty's moans get louder, straining against the confines of his pants and he has to kick and toss them off before his leaking tip leaves a stain.

He tosses and turns, haunted by memories of what he's seen and what he's done, chased by the sounds of what they're still doing. Even his boxers start to get tight on his body.

Before he can even think to stop himself, he's turning onto his back and stroking himself furiously with his hand.

He grabs a pillow and bites it, to keep himself from hearing how pathetic he sounds. To keep himself from knowing what little whimpers his body wants to make, To keep himself from being haunted by the memories of each desperate whine that escapes past his lips as he thrusts into his hand.

The sounds next door get louder, wetter. He could practically see Netty creaming her husband's dick and making a mess of their bed.

Another whimper bubbles in his throat, and he quickly moves his other hand lower to massage at his balls, chasing more.

A loud grunt sounds from next door followed by a piercing sharp moan, and before Stack could even process those sounds and how he was touching himself good, he was spilling onto his chest. Some it shooting into his parted lips as he silently moaned, the pillow long gone and lost as he made an even bigger mess of himself.

"Fuck." he cursed into the night air as he came down from his orgasm. Immediately regretting it as the salty taste of his cum flooded his tongue.

As the tender sounds of John murmuring low praises and sweet words to his wife echoes into the hall. Stack quietly cleaned himself up with the little basin in the corner of his room.

Vowing to never tell a soul about this night.

"Elias." Netty called his name and knocked on the door frame.

He opened his eyes, not sure when he fell asleep.

"Your breakfast is gonna get cold." she said, plain and unassuming.

"I'll be right down." He called down after her, shouldering on his suit jacket.

'"And bring that plate ad fork with you!" She called up to him as she descended down the stairs.

It's only been a night, but it feels like an entire day had passed by without him.

John was in a fresh new work suit. Instead of the navy blue that covered his clothes yesterday. He had on a deep charcoal gray. He was about done with his breakfast.

Netty was plating sausage, breakfast potatoes, grits, eggs, and a couple of biscuits. A cup of juice was already set by his plate.

"You want some more, baby?" she asked.

Elias almost looked up.

John shoved a last mouthful of potatoes and a piece of sausage.

"Thank you, baby." He wiped his mouth with napkin, "Just hand me a sausage."

He grabbed a biscuit from the basket on the table and knifed it open. Then he slathered it with butter and a equal bit of strawberry jelly.

Without asking or saying a word. Netty put the sausage on the biscuit for him.

John placed it between his teeth and quickly stood, throwing on his jacket.

"Ohm ooh hwo." He muffled.

Netty smoothed the lower part of his jacket down his back, unable to reach up and help him get it over his shoulders. He turned as she put his lunch paper on his hands.

"Don't talk with your mouth full baby."

"gwaugh fooh."

He bent down and Netty kissed him on the cheek.

"What did I just say." She smacked him on the arm. "Love you too. Now shoo!"

She also shooed him with her hands and he clamored out the door with a final wave. She stood there for a moment, looking wistfully out the screen door.

Elias didn't even move, he didn't even want to breath too hard. He wanted this moment to last. He wanted to savor the way the light from the open door bathed her in a heavenly golden glow. How it turned her it something not of this world. Something magical. No, spiritual.

As if coming back to the real world, she moved like nothing happened, coming back down to her earthly vessel.

"John said he'd bring your bag back this afternoon." she picked up the empty dishes,putting them in the sink and plating away whatever food was left in a container.

"So its like that?" He wiped his mouth, putting his fork down before taking a sip of juice.

"What Elias." she exasperated, not even turning around.

"You just gon' talk to me like I didn't hear your husband fuck you through the mattress last night?"

"It's our house." She shrugged, not paying him no mind. "We can do whatever we want in it."

"With a guest in the room next door?!"

"Please," Netty scoffed. "The word guest implies your company is welcome in some way, and you Elias Moore, ain't."

"And this means fucking loudly where anyone can hear you."

"It means treating you like you ain't even here."

"Well you doing a bad job at it." He huffed and ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, more for her than him. He'd be happy to talk about anything, but Netty was. . . different. Marriage changed her, something about that man changed her, and he was going to get to the bottom of it, but he should finish eating first. Can't get to the bottom of nothing on an empty stomach.

This was good, more than good even.

He's never eaten anything made by her before. Not until now. In all the time they spent together, he never got to a place with her for her to cook for him.

By the time he finally started on his coffee, it was beyond room temperature and practically cold. He pushed his plate away, ready to drink it.

"That's cold." Netty took the mug from his hand and poured him a fresh cup.

"Here." She handed it to him and smoothed down the apron over her dress.

He opened his mouth to say something.

"I gotta wash everything before Monday, and then I got some men coming over to install a new bathtub upstairs, so I got to make sure the way is clear for them to bring it in and clean out the bathroom for them." she turned and walked away.

Elias didn't follow her.

He might as well give her some space.

Get back on her good side.

He tried to kill as much time as he could on his own. Looking over every photo in the house again, nothing suspicious or odd there that could point to any cracks in Netty's life.

He looked at the one of Netty in her wedding dress, wrapped in her husband's arms as he kisses her on the cheek a big smile on her face. A once in a lifetime opportunity for a photograph and her husband doesn't even stand still for his face to be seen.

He took a nap to catch up on the sleep he missed last night. When the men installed the new tub upstairs late in the afternoon, he watched over them and chatted for a bit, letting them know when could never do no work like they were doing, shooting the shit, things like that.

Once they left, he decided he might as well go see what she was up to. He was done looking at photos.

He found her in a little room sitting in front of a wash tub that sat between her legs, scrubbing away at one of John's work suits. Other clothes sat in the steaming water as she did, waiting the same thorough scrub before they all end up in the same place on a clothes line outside.

The skirt of her dress was hiked up to her thighs as she scrubbed. What he wanted to say seemed to escape him.

The exertion of her work shone on her skin, making the thin sheen of sweat on her body cast an effervescent glow. Her brow line shone like glitter. Her long luscious legs looked soft, down right delectable. He could only imagine what lay between her thighs, but he knew he wanted a taste.

"What you want Stack?" she huffed, not looking up.

"So its Stack now?" he went down on his knees next to her. "Been Elias all this time. What changed?"

She stopped what she was doing and gave him a serious look. "When you look at me like that, you Stack."

"Tell me how I'm looking at you." He dared, locking eyes with her.

Her pupils blew wide. She tried to hide the silent hitch of her breath, but he could see the rise and fall of her chest grow heavy.

"Tell me." he placed a hand on her knee, wrapping his fingers around her.

She froze under his touch, but no chill raced down her spine. Heat seared through her skin, warming his palm.

"But you ain't got to tell me." He slid his hand further up her thigh, keeping eye contact with her.'

"Sta—' she stuttered on his namesake, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He'd get the chance to correct that real soon.

"St-stop." She whimpered as his fingers found her pussy.

Bare and wet as he slid two up and down her entrance, feathering her clit with the lightest touch.

"You don't wear no panties when you at home or something."

She turned her head, looking away. "Elias, stop—" she started to answer but he pressed down on her pussy, applying pressure and not letting his fingers go in.

"That ain't the answer to my question." He alleviated the pressure and started brushing her pussy with the back of his and, letting each soft knuckle of his hand bump gently across her clit. Her hips chased each little ridge on his hand. "You can't tell me you don't want this. Not at the way you moving, not at the way you pussy calling for me."

"Not. . . not like that," a soft gasp of a moan escaped her lips, "its a rule. I gotta follow the rules or I get punished."

Something pulled tight in Elias's lower belly.

Little Netty shouldn't be saying those words. She shouldn't know about things like that.

"What you mean?" he clenched his jaw, trying to keep the edge out his voice as he spoke. He lazily slipped two fingers in, dragging them softly along her in unhurried movements. Enough to keep her on edge and easy, keep her talking and give her just a taste of what she wants.

"Cant wear panties in the house." She said, taking in a a shaky breath. Her eyelashes fluttered furiously as she fought and failed to stop it and keep them open. She weakly pushed at his arm. Her pink tongue peaking out to wetly drag across her lips before her breath shuttered out of her lungs and past her lips. "Cant touch myself, neither."

He moved his fingers faster, sliding them in and out of her at a steady pace.

"Or what." Elias smirked. His lips parted in time with hers following the peak of her tongue with a movement of his own.

"Stop." She panted, pushing at his arm a little harder, but not hard enough. When he didn't stop she moved back once more, scooting off the little stool with a tiny thud. He didn't miss a beat, crawling over her and keeping his fingers inside.

"You already tried denying it, but there's no point of lying now. You more than burning for me now." He curled his fingers inside of her, effortlessly finding the right spot. Her pussy still swollen and puffy from last night, making things easy.

"That feel good, huh?" he teased. "The way it sounded last night, I know she tired, all beat up and sore." he purred in a low voice. Her eyes practically rolling back now. "

"N-n. . . no" she gasped and turned her head away, till trying to pretend, but no matter how much she tried to fight it, a moan would slip, a whimper would escape, and her eyelashes kept fluttering as she fought to keep them open. "Stop." she said breathly.

"You don't mean that." She gushed around his fingers and he rewarded her with another one.

"I said stop Elias!" she slapped him.

He breathed in and out real heavy, taking his fingers out of her. He rested his hand that was still under her dress on her knee, waning to be near her in anyway he could.

"Alright," He began to apologize. "If—"he started to say if that's what you want, and leave it at that. Make sure she was alright and leave the room, maybe the house, but all of a sudden he was being thrown against the wall and face to face with the angriest big man in the world.

"Yeah." John said gruffly in a affirmative tone, holding Elias in the air like he weighted nothing. He didn't even need more words. From the look in his eye Elias could tell. Stack was everything John assumed he was in that moment, probably even less than that.

"I—" He started.

. . .would never hurt Netty, went unsaid.

Before Stack could even utter the single syllable out good, a large fist collided with his face.

"John!" Antoinette shrieked with worry.

But he must not have heard her because he hit Elias in the face again and again and again.

His head pounded. His ears ringed.

He needed to do something, he wanted to do something, but this big ass nigga hit hard, and on top of that he was heavy handed as hell, and he wanted to kill him! He might be as good as dead, and he will be if he doesn't do something and something soon.

Elias's hand scrambled to his side, trying to get to the knife he always kept at his side before another fist hit him in the face. By the time he got a good purchase on it in his hand, he was being dragged across the floor and through the house by his jacket.

"You like putting your hands on women!" John shouted. "My wife!"

He tossed Elias outside.

Elias pawed weakly at the grass, trying to steady his body long enough to get up. To will himself to move through the pain and get off the ground before this crazy big ass nigga stomps on his head and he's gone for good.

He coughed up some blood.

With a large cry of pain he got onto his knees. His breath stuttered through his teeth as he clenched them furiously, getting to his feet.

"Catch this punk ass nigga!"

John threw a duffel bag at Elias with such force it almost knocked him down. He ignored it for now. He cant think about the money when a man wants to kill him for almost fucking his wife in his house.

"Look," He started, throwing on his best smile. He could barely see, he could feel his jacket was ripped, and his teeth were coated in too much of his own blood. "I didn't mean no harm. I—"

"Ain't' no look nothing, mother fucker!" John shouted, his voice a whole new level of angry, "Catch this too!"

Elias attempted to dodge the clear punch to his abdomen, but the nigga was fast. Way faster than he expected for someone his size.

Is there something this nigga wasn't capable of?

Elias doubled over, but he, by the grace of God, did not fall this time. He didn't waste his blessing and immediately swiped at the mans belly with the knife.

"Argghhh!" John grimaced loudly, but didn't miss a beat, tapping him across the head with another fist.

Fuck!

That one made his vision blurry.

In a regular fight that may get him killed, but this nigga was so big, his shadow blob of a body was more than enough for Elias to swipe at his arm this time as he tried to punch him again. Side steeping fast enough to cut him there.

Elias moved to strike him again, but John's fist was just fast as the blade Elias flicked in his hand. This one swipe met dead air and Elias got an uppercut to the chin that threw him onto his back.

"Oogh!" Elias wailed.

John raised his leg and all Elias could see was the massive bottom sole of a boot before it connected with his head. Then another followed on his abdomen making him scream louder than he has in his entire life.

"John!" Netty shrieked. "Stop!"

But he wasn't listening, continuing to kick Elias in the stomach, his side, his back and whatever part of him he could reach. A loud crack pierced the air following by a squelch he was positive a body should not be making. A sound he's only heard by the most unforgiving poor victims of people who caught Smoke on a bad day.

He raised his foot to kick him in the head once more and Elias was more than sure that it was over. He blinked slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open. Blood trickled down his brow and stung in the corners of his eyes. He weakly watched netty clamor to her man's side and pull at his arm, ultimately, making him put his foot down and focus on her.

"If you kill him, you will go to jail!" She said with a heavy pant. Her chest rising and falling in large movements as she gave him a serious yet pleading look in the eye.

Nothing but Elias's ragged breathing, John's deep huffs, and Netty's pants filled the little yard.

No one said anything for a while.

"I'm alright." Netty insisted. She stepped closer to her husband, putting her hands on his chest and slid them up and down in soft slow movements. " Go 'on an' Send Stack on his way and come back inside, so I can clean you up." She sniffed and patted him on the chest, and turned away, heading inside.

Before she could move to far, John grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back into him, kissing her on the temple of the forehead. They both closed their eyes, staying there for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away. I—" he started with a low graveled slur, blurring his words together as his voice was thick with emotion.

"Shhhhh, baby." she said gently. "We can talk about it when we get inside."

Stack watched her walk away from it, from him.

John reached down and grabbed him by the front of his clothes, and righting him on his feet.

Stack almost immediately fell, but John patiently kept him upright until he found his balance and could stand on his own. He even brushed his clothes and straightened the torn and bloody material until he looked as decent as he could. Gently straitening his collar and tie like a father would for their son, or at least that's what Stack imagined it was like.

His large hands that moments ago tried to beat him to death, were touching him so gently and carefully. The fingers that brushed against his neck were warm. He put his big hand over Stack's as he gently placed the duffel bag into it, and then clasped both hands on his shoulders, jolting him a little, making Stack wince, filling his whole body with that same warm feeling from his shoulders, down his spine, and all the way to his toes.

To top it off the look he gave him was just as warm with a fondness Stack couldn't quite describe.

A look he got plenty times from Smoke after saving his hide from whatever trouble he had got caught up in as a kid. The same look he gets from stray uncles and older men wanting to give him advise, regardless of if he had the sense or wherewithal at the time to take it, but in his older years he's learn to take take head.

The shift in attitude made him squint.

"You come 'round here again," John started in s alow, calm, and gentle voice "I won't hesitate to kill you."

He cupped both sides of his face, looking him in the eye for a bit, then turned and walked back inside of his house.

Stack stood there for a bit, watching their shadows through the windows until they turned off the lights and disappeared from his site.

He sniffed, then immediately regretted it, his nose stinging like a mother fucker.

He needed to go into the city, find an old contact from the mob to get a car decent enough to trek out of town to the spot to meet Smoke.

And that's exactly what he did.

" 'Told you going to her was a bad idea."

Stack huffed, ignoring his brother.

"Still got the money though." He said sullenly.

"Told you to stop messing round with married women." Smoke continued to scold him in that deadpan nonchalant tone.

Stack rolled his eyes as best he could.

"Netty ain't just some woman. She—"

"A girl that used to fool with you as a boy ain't worth chasing after. They move on to someone that's gon' be there fo' 'em." he said sternly, his voice raising just as a hair as he got more and more upset as he talked. Just how it always goes. Stack was in for an earful now. "If you wanted her ,you would have found a way to stay and give her what she needs, or talk to her and get her to understand why you gon' be gone sometimes."

"And that's what you Annie did?" Stack scoffed. "You talk to her and she just let you walk out her life, so she can sit around for—"

"Aye!" Smoke smacked his hand on the bar between them. He dint even say nuthin', just giving him a dangerous glare.

Low Blow but Stack was not in the mood.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, taking sips of whisky. Enjoying their own thoughts together as they often times did when the nights were heavy.

Stack tried and failed not to think of Litt— no Netty.

Just Netty.

Nothing was little about her anymore. Her sweet innocent smile was gone. She lives in a world with secrets rules, nasty sex with punishments, and house decorating, cooking, cleaning, and one day little children to go with it all.

"Don't know what Mary see in you." Smoke started again.

"Will you shut the fuck up." Stack muttered into his glass.

"You treat married women who don't want nothing to do with yo' ass better than her, but she still run around you in circles."

"Why you talking so much!" Stack exasperated. "You supposed to be the quiet one. All mysterious and mean and shit."

"Someone gotta think out loud for you, because you clearly can't do it for yo'self."

They went back and forth like that for the rest of the night. Quiet, then fussing, more quiet and then more fussing, until Mary finally came to patch him up and give hi a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

Then they talked and laughed for a bit with her, and then fussed. Then laughed and then fussed, and it went on like that.

All until Stack didn't think about Netty every second, only sometimes. Just like he used to.

How it will now, always be.