#daddykillmonger

"I'm an ass? Masende kayihlo!" Jax cursed back grabbing at his balls to insult N'Jobu.

"Eh, my father's balls? Nyo kanyoko!" N'Jobu shot back using his fingers to tap his tongue as a counter insult towards Jax's mother's private parts.

The other guys laughed and balled their fists up to their mouths at the bickering of two best friends.

"She said she had it covered. What can I say? I was doing it and thinking she would handle all of that. She's a noble. Those women should know better. Plus, she just got divorced. Ikaka, it might be her ex-husband's," Jax said.

"She keeping it?" N'Jobu asked.

"She can't."

"What if she does? What are you going to do?"

Jax sipped on a bottle of beer.

"She's not having it. I'll make sure she doesn't."

"She can get a DNA test you know," N'Jobu said.

"Not my problem. Plus, I hear her ex wants her back."

"Man, still…wouldn't you want to know if the child is yours? I mean if she keeps it, and it's yours, won't your families want legitimacy?"

"Ohhh, noooo, don't try to put that marriage yoke around my neck. You're the guy that has to get tied down for King and country! Filial obedience!" Jax hollered, slapping N'Jobu on his back.

N'Jobu only stared at Jax in disbelief.

"How many of your choices came to that dinner tonight?" Jax asked.

"We are talking about you, not me."

"Let's stop talking about him. I don't think she's pregnant anyway. I saw pictures of her drinking here last week for a birthday party. Pregnant women don't drink," said Odwa, His twin brother Paki was nodding his head.

"I saw those pictures too. She's playing you Jax," Paki said.

A popular song blasted the conversation and Jax jumped up shaking his hips, his thin twisted locs bouncing around his head.

"This is our cue, gentlemen. Our Prince has returned from fucking American women…don't roll your eyes at me N'Jobu, we know you! Odwa, look at his face, he's sitting here trying to act like he's been a good schoolboy in America."

"I know your comm tab has been blowing up since you got home. Who has been calling you to split them open before you go back, eh?" Paki said.

"Let's go dance, this is the song!" Their friend Chisulo said, dropping his body low and twisting his feet to the massive bass rumbling throughout the club.

Sekani, N'Jobu's third cousin on his mother's side took a long drag from a bottle of peach vodka. He wiped his mouth after drinking and stared at N'Jobu, his bald head shiny under the club lights. "Cousin, let's go," he said.

N'Jobu stood up and followed them as they walked past several elite sections. As N'Jobu sauntered through, he felt eager eyes on him and saw people giving head nods out of respect for his presence. Before they reached the stairs, he had to stop and use the restroom.

"I'll meet you guys down there," he said.

His Dora Milaje were discreet, but still watching his movements closely.

After relieving himself in the restroom, N'Jobu circled around towards the stairs.

"Prince N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu's head snapped to his right and he saw Zinzi and a group of women sitting in their own section. He recognized several of the women, their parents had eaten with him at the palace earlier.

Zinzi wore white skin-tight pants and a white leather corset top that showed off her ample bosom. N'Jobu didn't feel any shame when he let his eyes dip low to check out her breasts. She wasn't shy about showing them off. Oba Oba's was the place to see and be seen. She caught his reckless eye-balling and smiled.

"Zinzi," he said, stepping to her. He reached for her hand and kissed it. The women with her watched him with fierce sparkling eyes.

"Hello Ladies, you all look amazing," he said, acknowledging them. The one sitting closest to him, a pretty woman with dimples and a baby afro who he didn't recognize, kept biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"How come you didn't come over to my section?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to look offended.

"You looked like you were in deep conversation with your friends. I didn't want to disturb your reunion."

"You disturb me? Never! Come, dance with me," he said, clasping her hand in his. He felt her fingers squeeze his a little. Her friends looked gobsmacked by how familiar he was acting with Zinzi, his informal Wakandan inflections scandalous to their ears. She did ask him to be seen with her so that the gossip could get back to her lover.

"Sure, your Highness," she said.

"Ladies, excuse us please," he said.

He led Zinzi down the stairs and through a boisterous crowd of dancers. They both could feel more covetous eyes on them. Zinzi's fingers felt warm and smooth interlaced with his, quite comfortable in fact.

He could see his boys throwing down already with women who were serving them hips and dips. The music was funky and not for the rhythmically challenged.

N'Jobu wasted no time grabbing Zinzi's waist. She was already tossing her ass back at him in that slow teasing way that women from this part of town were famous for doing. One leg up and bent, then the other lifted, bent at the knee, tiny steps alternating left to right, hip twisting, ass cheeks jiggled in precise isolations. River tribe women were known for those type of moves, but a dance craze that caught on a year ago filtered over into Birnin Zana from that region. Now everyone was doing it.

N'Jobu had to create an artificial barrier between him and Zinzi. Yes, he was connected to a woman in the States, and yes, he was committed to being faithful to her, but he was also a man who had a body that reacted to fine women. And Zinzi was fine as Ethiopian honey wine. When her ass got too close to his groin, he made sure not to press into her.

She turned around and raised her hands in the air, and that was a problem because now he could not stop looking at her chest and the way her breasts bounced to the music. He quickly forced himself to keep dancing but focused his eyes elsewhere as if he were taking in all the sights and sounds of the club.

A popular song called "Zana Highlife" came on, and N'Jobu really cut loose with Zinzi. She was fun to dance with and actually kept up with him.

"You're good, Prince N'Jobu!" she said, moving around him.

He smiled at her as he worked his shoulders in time with his hips.

"Okay your Highness, I see you!" she called out, trying to match his moves.

They partied to five songs and then N'Jobu took her hand and walked her over to a bar and ordered drinks for them. All the drinks were on the house for him. He asked for two house wines, and when they arrived, he took them and had Zinzi follow him to an open table in a booth. The other tables near them were empty because people were on the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yejide and Ometeko positioning themselves near him. No one would bother them at the table or in this section.

Sipping their white wine, N'Jobu kept eyeing Zinzi. She might actually be the one for his family's legacy. They got along so far as adults. He had known her when they were kids, but that was a long time ago. She was a woman now. An amazing one.

They did a little small talk about her current work organizing counseling for mental health and advocating for geriatric outreach. They spoke of his education and the excitement of the new royal baby. He showed her pictures of his friends in California on his comm tab. Always group shot photos, and usually he was in the back of the pictures trying to be obscure. He made sure not to show her any photos that he had of Califia and him together. Those were his private stash, mostly selfies of them kissing.

Califia seemed to adore photos of them tonguing each other down. Kissing between them was almost as good as intercourse. It had turned into a necessary extended act of foreplay that he enjoyed very much, especially when paired with his licking her all over from her front to her back. They once had an intense kissing session on her grandmother's couch when everyone had gone to bed. Califia had worked him up so bad that when they stopped twisting their lips and tongues together after forty minutes, he had soaked a section of his pants with pre-cum and he thought he had ejaculated because the stain was so big.

"Any girlfriends out there in America?" Zinzi asked.

"No," he said sipping on his wine, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"But you are seeing women, right?"

"Yeah. I date. But school is pretty intense."

"I hear you're a top student."

"Always. That's an Udaku trait."

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"You and Captain Gcuma…?"

He was curious.

"You were great tonight. Thank you."

"So, what's the deal with that? Why don't you two just get married? I can tell he is into you. He looked shocked when he saw me stepping up."

"My parents. He's older. Divorced. No children. They think being divorced is a sign of bad character and because he never had children with his wife, he must be infertile."

"Who was he married to?"

"Wananeya Duzi."

"The Duzi family? Whoa. How'd he screw that up?"

Zinzi punched his leg.

"Be nice. He fell in love with me."

"You were messing around with a married man?"

"They were separated for three years before he and I…"

"I understand," N'Jobu said.

"I was finishing up my military stint. He was my commanding officer. He just…we just…"

"Easy, Zinzi. You don't have to explain. The picture is clear."

"To be fair, he is descended from the Oni family. His mother is an Oni. He has noble blood."

"But the whole divorce, and maybe him being a lot older is an issue, eh?"

"Yes. But I don't care. My family wants to be in the palace. You know this. But I'm in love. I just want to get married and make that man some babies."

"Does he want to marry you?"

"I know he does. But he's scared to ask. Scared of losing his rank if my family goes after him because they disapprove. That's why I asked you to be seen with me openly. I want him to see that he could lose me. I want him to get a taste of seeing me with someone else."

"And that's supposed to do what? Make him propose?"

"Yes!"

"Well, if I were him, I would say screw the military and elope with you."

Zinzi's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Look at you. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. You remind me a lot of my…."

He caught himself.

"I remind you of what?"

He sipped from his wine glass. Her eyes got big.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you? In the States."

"Keep this to yourself."

Zinzi studied his face.

"What?" he said.

"I knew something was up with you."

N'Jobu quirked his lips like she was talking nonsense.

"No, really. I noticed something about you when you were at the dinner. You seemed preoccupied but in a good way. And the way you are in this club right now, with all these beautiful women? I know for sure that when I throw this ass back on a man, they try to catch it. Are you in love, Prince N'Jobu?"

He sat back in the booth seat and sighed.

"Yes. I am."

Zinzi smiled.

"Can I see a picture of her?"

"You must keep this to yourself," he said.

"I've told you my deepest darkest secret that I don't want anyone to know about. You can trust me. I'm not looking for trouble."

N'Jobu pulled up one of his favorite photos of him and Califia together. She is straddling his lap and looking up at his cell phone while he is kissing her cheek. His eyes are closed and his arms are around her and squeezing her tight. Her hair is a big thick ball of fury and her freckles are so vivid on her face. But it's her smile that melts him. Those luscious lips. Her teeth. That cheeky twinkle in her eye. The love of his life at this moment.

"My Bast, Prince N'Jobu. She is striking. No wonder…no wonder."

Zinzi is quiet and they both watch the crowd dance. N'Jobu can see his buddies still cutting up, the life of the party on the dance floor.

"Do your parents know about her?" Zinzi finally asks.

"No one. It's a new relationship. I've dated a lot over there. But this…this is something…I don't even know how to act sometimes. I mean, that girl…that girl has got me. What's crazy is, I wasn't even looking for this. I was happy just screwing around…and then, I don't know… something changed. I've never felt like this before, Zinzi. And it bothers me. It weighs on me. Because I can't keep her. I have fallen in love with someone for the first time in my life, and it's with a foreigner. I can never bring her here, and I can never stay there. I'm fucked."

He hadn't meant to lay all of that at Zinzi's feet. But it felt good talking to Zinzi. She made him feel open and trusting. She reached out her hand and cradled his fingers in hers.

"Your secret is safe with me. Although our situations are different, I do understand what you are going through."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a half smile.

"What time is it over there now? You should call her."

"It's around five."

"Call her," Zinzi said getting up, "I'm going to rejoin my friends for a bit."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Zinzi?"

"Before you leave, make sure we talk again. There's something I want to hip you to. A rumor you should be aware of."

"Okay. Is it about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll come find you."

She nodded and eased back into the crowd.

Tapping his comm tab and placing his earbuds on, N'Jobu hit Califia's cell number.

"Filter background," N'Jobu whispered, and the earbuds worked on blocking out much of the loud music and background voices. It was pretty loud, but he hoped the noise reduction filter would do enough so he wouldn't have to move.

He almost gave up on the ninth ring when he heard her pick.

"N'Jobu!" she exclaimed, and the excitement in her voice made him close his eyes.

"Califia," he said, his voice a gentle whisper.

"How is everything? Is your family thrilled to have you back? What's the weather like—"

"Califia, I love you too."

The music in the background was still a little loud and he thought she didn't hear him.

"Baby?" he said looking down at his fingers. They were trembling.

"I wanted to tell you before you left. But I chickened out. I was going to wait until you came back home to me and tell you in person. But…it just came out like that, and maybe, I dunno, maybe I was scared to say it in person—" she said.

"Say it to me now," he said.

"I love you, N'Jobu. I love the hell out of you."

He released a loud exhalation of breath. He let his eyes drift across the dancers and the bright lights and the wonderful chaos that was his favorite club. His friends were at the bar lifting their drinks to him, their smiles wide and grateful that he was here with them once more. But at this moment, his heart and mind were far away.

"I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you, Califia. When you touched my hand that first time…when you were checking out my bracelet…you looked up at me and …and there was something in your eyes that just caught me. Baby, this is so new to me. But I will do my best to make you happy. Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice trembling over the call.

"I'm going to be thinking of you every day here."

"Same."

"I'm hanging out with my friends right now. We're at a club, and it looks like we're about to hit the dance floor again. Or drink some more I'm guessing. They are holding up shot glasses for me."

"Get off this phone and go have fun!"

Her laughter thrilled him. He would survive this trip. He didn't miss the fact that she had said coming back home to her. She was home. She was where he wanted to be.

"My schedule is going to be a bitch, so I may not be able to get at you until a few days from now."

"Maybe we can face chat next time?"

"I'll try to make that happen. A lot of political stuff is happening and my family is involved, so my time is really messed up. I'm glad to be back. Everyone is well."

"Good," she said.

"Talk soon?"

"Yeah."

He heard her give him a big wet kiss over the phone and then the call was done.

A stirring of confidence filled up his chest and he strolled over to his boys with a serious dip in his step.

###

After spending time at the bar drinking, N'Jobu let his friends return to the dance floor as he bounded up the steps of V.I.P.

He found Zinzi talking with her friends in her private section and he spirited her away to his V.I.P. section where they could be alone together.

"Spill it," he said, fingering a glass of water.

Zinzi tossed her braids over her shoulder.

"There has been talk about you and Princess Bathandwa. The entire country knows your family wants an heir. Everyone also knows that your brother and sister-in-law have been trying for awhile to have a baby."

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Zinzi's eyes went downcast. She fidgeted with an ornate ruby ring on her index finger.

"There's a story going around that when Princess Bathandwa went to visit New York last June with the Women's Delegation, you flew there to see her because a month after she returned, it was announced she was a few weeks pregnant."

N'Jobu thought back to June. Bathandwa was part of a global women's movement to help neonatal health in so-called Third World countries. They were having a big conference near the U.N. and Bathandwa was giving a speech on African women's progress in East Africa. It was part of Wakanda's political maneuverings in the outside world, feigning the appearance of being a struggling nation with health issues.

During that time, N'Jobu had been messing around with a dish water blonde who taught at Mills College, a professor who he met at a university mixer who talked so much shit to N'Jobu that made him think she was cool that he ended up rearranging her guts in her apartment until he realized later in the situationship that she had a fetish for Black men. Especially dark-skinned men like him who had prowess in bed.

He had screwed the professor and missed a flight to JFK airport where he was to meet Bathandwa and her delegation for a quick hi and bye over dinner. They never met up and she flew home right after her speech.

"We never saw each other," N'Jobu said.

Zinzi shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. She leaves Wakanda after years of trying and comes back announcing a baby on the way. People started talking. There's also your reputation too."

"What is my reputation, hmm?"

"Playboy. Heartbreaker. Party monster. Womb wrecker."

"Womb wrecker? Damn."

"Listen, the people love that about you. No offense, but Prince T'Chaka is like the uptight country Uncle, and you are like everyone's favorite city nephew. They're going to talk."

"How long has this rumor been going?"

"Honestly, at first, it was like a big joke, you know, the stuff people say to poke fun of nobles. But then it started gaining traction, and I am afraid it has reached the ears of the palace. I am quite sure your brother is aware of it."

N'Jobu drank his water and pondered her words.

"I noticed tonight that Princess Bathandwa is very affectionate with you."

"And?"

"You may want to be very careful of how you two interact, especially during this time of the coronation. I do not mean to be rude, but people are watching you closely, and not just because of the betrothal march. Some people really believe that her baby is yours."

"Great," he said sighing heavily.

"This will pass. The good thing is, you will return to the States, and once the baby is born, everyone will see that the royal couple finally received the child they have been praying for."

"Let us hope so," he said, "any other gossip I should know about?"

"Your friend Jax, he is not the father of the baby that Yasmin is having. Your other friend Odwa is."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. You did not hear it from me."

"Hey…I talked to my girlfriend."

"Good. How is she?"

N'Jobu beamed.

"She sounded great."

"You are so cute when you are in love. Just all teeth right now."

N'Jobu smiled wider, then stared at Zinzi with a more somber expression. He rubbed his chin.

"Can I ask you something else, and be honest with me?"

"Go ahead."

N'Jobu glanced around to make sure they were still afforded privacy.

"In your opinion, how are the people taking the change. Are they for or against my brother?"

Zinzi's eyes squinted a bit and she pressed her lips together.

"From what I gather, and this is coming from my parents and other nobles, the change is viewed as a good thing among people under forty. It's the older people who are not thrilled. They are accustomed to our Kings and Queens ruling until they drop dead. No offense, your Highness."

"None taken."

"People generally like Prince T'Chaka. He has a level head, but, some feel that his crowning should come later when he is more mature. How do you feel about it?"

"It seems fast to me. But I will trust my father's judgment."

"It lessens your time being a playboy I bet," she joked.

"Look whose showing teeth now," N'Jobu said.

"You know they weren't going to let you dangle out here for long."

"Lady Zinzi!"

Jax stepped back into the V.I.P. along with the rest of N'Jobu's crew. Zinzi stood and greeted all the guys.

"I'll see you later, Prince N'Jobu."

"I'll call you for lunch."

"Do that," she said, leaving their private space.

Jax and the others watched Zinzi's hips sway as she walked around to rejoin her party.

"Sekmet in heaven. Please tell me you are choosing her, N'Jobu," Odwa said.

"I have tried for years to get that woman to look at me. I think she's stuck up," Jax said, grabbing his crotch in a crude manner.

N'Jobu thought about asking his friends about the rumor, but if it were that serious, one of them would've pulled his coattails by now.

All he knew was that if what she said was true, and the rumor had reached T'Chaka, that may be part of his stress besides becoming King.

The guys were ordering more rounds of shots, and the music was getting hotter.

He'd worry about T'Chaka later.

###

N'Jobu rolled back into the palace way after six in the morning.

He sent his mother a message that he would not be joining the family for brunch, but would be sleeping in before attending the planned evening outing, the opening of a brand-new opera in the West Zana district. The royal family would be having dinner at a chic new restaurant so that the press and paparazzi could get pictures. One of his other top picks for the betrothal march would be joining them for dinner and attending the opera with the family.

Once inside his suite, N'Jobu showered, slathered his body in freshly made cocoa butter, and sat inside his sauna to let the rich body butter soak into his skin. His limbs felt sore and heavy from dancing long and late. He was proud that he wasn't hung over.

The heat softened his skin and he ran his hands up his thighs massaging his muscles. A viewscreen popped up on the glass of the sauna door, and N'Jobu stood up from the wooden bench of the sauna to check it. He forgot he had set a reminder alarm for himself to go jogging in the royal garden.

He reset the alarm for the next day, changed his mind, and set it for later in the afternoon. His wet fingers slid across the screen as he checked for messages. He opened an app for his computer and looked for his private Califia folder. The heat of the sauna woke up his skin. He ran his hand across his pecs, then double tapped the folder. He searched for a particular clip that he filmed with his kimoyo beads. He saw the thumbnail for the clip he wanted and tapped it.

Califia.

As big as life, projected into the sauna in full 3D.

She's on her knees facing him, naked on his bedroom floor. She has her hands on her breasts. He hears himself tell her to play with her tits, and she does, her eyes watching him. He feels bad for a second because it's the only clip he has of her face, and he wasn't trying to film it, he just got caught in the moment and he wasn't using his cell to tape, so the kimoyo beads captured everything.

N'Jobu stepped back from the projected image and just watched, his hands at his sides, the steam in the sauna causing Califia's image to look real. He watched her hands slide up her waist, circle around her stomach and then reach her chest. Her fingers toyed with her nipples first, and N'Jobu fought the urge to touch himself. He simply wanted to observe her.

She pushed her breasts together once her nipples hardened, and he felt his dick stir, blood rushed to help thicken it.

"Turn around, face down. Show me that ass," he said in the video.

Califia pivoted and crossed her arms on the carpet and laid her head on her hands, right on top of a pillow that was on the floor. Her ass sat up in front of him.

"Arch that back," his video voice commanded, and she used those dancer skills that trained her body to bend with complete control to pop that ass up higher. Her thighs parted and her ass cheeks separated enough so that her pussy was visible to him.

In the sauna, N'Jobu was weakened, his cock jutted out more as his eyelids drooped from the blessing that sat before him.

"Hhhhmm….baby," he slipped between his gritted teeth. The bulb of his cock was fully fleshed out. He reached his hand up above his head towards a shelf that housed a small black box. He reached inside the box just when Califia's right hand reached between her legs and rubbed tight counterclockwise circles on her clit.

"Oooooohmmm…" N'Jobu groaned as his dick bobbed. It felt so heavy.

"Let me see those hands," N'Jobu commanded on video, and Califia pressed her face on the pillow. Both her hands reached back and pulled open her cheeks. Her fingernails were painted a satiny dark maroon, and they looked so pretty against her skin.

N'Jobu moaned again when he saw her opening give a small spasm and he saw her tasty pink pussy gap open wider. This woman is fucking art, he thought. There should be paintings of this fat juicy vulva throbbing open on museum walls. This is why men waged wars for centuries. Just to have the power to control this pulsing, throbbing, dripping wet and divine thing. Looking at Califia, even in a digitized state, he knew what a living Goddess looked like.

"Babb..byy…" he stuttered, slipping his fingers out of the black box and pulling out the item he needed. A red cock ring.

He slipped the red band over his dick and rolled it all the way around his balls. His sack was very sensitive when he touched it, and when he released his balls, they felt massive hanging from him even with the new constriction placed on them.

"Jobu…Jobu…" Califia was panting out his name.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't you let go," he said out loud to himself in the sauna as he stroked his erection, the shaft slick from the cocoa butter and steam, his stomach muscles taut, and his pecs flexing from the strain.

"Please….please…Jobu…fuck me…" she begged, spreading her cheeks wider.

"Shit…"

N'Jobu reached back into the box and pulled out a silver glans ring and twisted it around the girth of his frenulum. When he released it, he felt his glans swell more. He stopped touching his erection and just watched Califia begging for his dick. It was torture, an excruciating test of self-control. The more she begged for his cock, the more his dick jumped. He used his own muscles to make his dick move, the sweet pain of the cock rings constricting him building up his intense pleasure.

He watched himself slap Califia's sensitive clit with his hand, sharp strikes that made her yelp as he watched her own body's natural lubricant ooze out of her glistening center.

"Dammit," he muttered, watching her squirm and not touching himself.

He watched himself move into the scene and grab her waist, slowly sinking his cock into her pussy. N'Jobu found himself being even more turned on watching his own dick placate his woman who had been begging and pleading for that moment of entry. Now he was listening to her cry out in pleasure as he forced her to keep that back arched by pressing one hand down on her lower back.

"Jobu…huhhnn…s'deep…hmmmmnn…you in so deep…s'deep…fuck…DADDY…you in there…you in there…"

She was wailing and squirming harder, but he kept his dick deep inside her with a repetitive short slow thrust. The movement made his balls just smash softly against her clit.

N'Jobu began to stroke his erection, because now what he was waiting for was coming up soon. He watched himself jump from doggy to froggy style as he kept that agonizing deep thrust. Califia was lying back on her hands again, trying her best not to collapse from overstimulation and no release. His balls would press into her clit and she would wiggle to try and get the friction to offset her orgasm, but the swivel in N'Jobu's hips prevented that. He was torturing her on purpose.

And he was torturing his real self too as he watched. He gripped his cock tight. A thick stream of pre-cum spilled out in a long clear drizzle down to the sauna floor. His climax was in sight. He watched himself plunge down deeper into Califia and hold still.

"Cum on this dick!" his video self barked at her.

Califia's ass jiggled and then he watched her entire vulva spasm and pulse around his cock.

N'Jobu's eyes shut tight as he shot hot ropes of cum onto the glass door of the sauna. His voice bellowed and grunted freely in the soundproof space as he coated the door with so much cum, it looked like someone had thrown a glass of milk on it.

When his eyes opened, he caught the last part of the video where he pulled out of Califia with his jizz spilling behind him from the release.

He leaned against the glass and gulped in as much air as he could, but he had to exit the sauna because it wasn't enough to revive his breath with the heated air going into his desperate lungs.

He pulled off the cock rings and dropped them on the sink in the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his blown pupils gazing back at him.

"Shit!" he yelled out, trying to gain his composure as he gripped the edges of the marble sink.

He staggered into his room and flopped onto his bed, still winded.

He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 21 HERE

Read “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” from the beginning here.

A/N: ANNNDDDDDD yesssss. I’ve been gone, but I’m back. And Imma gey back to attempting to posting “regularly”. This is short asf but I tried. I hope y’all staying healthy and safe in these very different times.

“I understood. I still understand.”, Trevante shifts around in his seat, “You made the best decision for yourself. I don’t hold grudges. You know that. I could never be mad at you for three years. Straight?”, he laughs, “Never.”, he sits back in the booth looking at you, “You don’t have to apologize.”

    You take a quick glimpse up at him, “I know I just-”

“Like I said, we don’t have to skip through memory lane. We can live in the present. Right now. Me and you.”, he smiles, and this was the first time you were noticing his grill. A gold grill. “You wear gold grills now?”, you smile. “Yeah.”, he smiles, “You like it?”, he smiles big and wide. Ear to ear. This man was beautiful. “I do Tre.”, you laugh. His eyes roams over you, “Every time I see you, you amaze me. And you got the gold onnnn?’, he laughs, “Melanin just gleaming with that beautiful smile. Ain’t changed since college. We just grew up.”

   You look down again, not use to compliments, “Thank you.” 

The food arrives and Trevante pops out his grills, bottom and top. He digs in and you watch him before eating. You share laughs and jokes. Dipping a toe into memory lane. 

   Finishing all you could, you wipe your mouth, “That was good.” Trevante nods, “They got the best food out here. Anddddd,”, he smirks, “A jukebox.”, he gets up. You spot the jukebox and laugh. He grabs your hand you get up, following him to the jukebox. 

     Trevante flips through the music until a familiar song pops up, he puts in a quarter and selects the song. The song comes through the speakers. The few people inside turn their heads with smiles. 

     “Dance with me.”, Trevante touches your hand. “There’s people watching.”, you whisper, looking around. “So? What’s the harm in a lil dancing baby girl?”, he whispers in your ear. He wraps his hand around your waist and you and him dance slowly, looking into each others eyes. You could feel his energy, Radiating off his skin. This moment, right now is what you had hoped for. 

    “Now we’re grown up...maybe we could look into the future.”, Trevante holds you closer.

   You had made it back home. You were tired from today’s events and wanted to unwind. You turned on some music and decided to run a bubble bath, lavender and epsom salt would be the perfect the combination. You stripped off your clothes and got your epsom salt and lavender. The couple from across the hall was arguing again, you turned your music up a little louder. You poured your mixture in the bath tub full of steaming hot water. You dipped a foot in to make sure the temperature was just right. You melted into the bathtub and sighed, this was absolute heaven. You soaked for about fifteen minutes, you were falling asleep when somebody knocked your door. “Are you serious?’, you groaned and got out the bath tub and wrapped a towel around your wet body. 

   You looked through the peephole to see Erik. “Go home Erik.”, you spoke through the door. “I need to talk to you. You got me blocked on everything so I had to do it person.”, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. You sighed and opened the door, “Let me go put on some clothes.” You left Erik in the living room and went to the bathroom in your room to drain the water. You opened the door to get back into your room and went straight to your dresser and grabbed some shorts and a tank top, you let your long box braids down. You went back to the living room and Erik was sitting on the couch, he had turned the television on. Basketball.

     “What did you want to talk about?”, you sat on the couch a little farther from him. “About today.”, he was still looking at the TV. “Okay, talk about it then”, you reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Erik looked at you, he wanted to say something, you could see on his bottom lip. “You be messing with other niggas?”, he asked. “Really Erik?”

  “I’m just asking a question.”, he shrugged. “It’s none of your business. Knowing you, the day you broke up with me, you probably slept with some Instagram hoe.”, you shrugged. Erik looked at the TV that wasn’t on. You were right, “Wow.” Erik sucked his teeth, “It wasn’t like that.” You sat back, “Don’t matter to me.” There was more silence. “So you haven’t had sex at all?”, Erik asked. “Have you?”, you glanced at him. “So it do matter?”, Erik smirked. “It’s not funny Erik.”, your expression was cold. Erik laughed, “I didn’t say it was funny.” You looked at him, “Why are laughing Erik?” Erik licked his lips, “I can tell when you jealous.” Shit. “I’m not jealous.” 

    “I didn’t fuck anybody.”, he smiled and licked his lips again. You couldn’t look at him. “You don’t have to lie.”, you crossed your legs. “I’m not lying girl.”, he chuckled. “Whatever Erik.”, you crossed your arms. “I like seeing you mad. You made that shit attractive. That’s why you started arguments all time, so I can fuck the shit outta you later.”, he slid his tongue across his grill, “I don’t have to say anything because, I’m right.”, he was still staring at you, waiting. “I don’t have time for this.”, you uncrossed your legs, you had to admit, you were wet. Dripping wet. Like you could feel like trickling down. “You don’t have tome for a lil sexxx?”, the words rolled off his tongue, the same tongue you wanted on your pulsing pussy. “This what you came over here for?”, you tested him. “I came over here to talk to you.”, he was closer. “This is how you talk?”, you crossed your legs again, this toxic ass nigga knew what he was doing. 

   “You know exactly how I talk.”, tempting, very tempting. Erik wasn’t talking “normal”, he was making sure he pronounced ever word, his voice slow and deep like his strokes...whew. “Erik...”, you were trying not to fall into his sticky trap. “What?”, he licked his lips again. You craved his tongue on your clit while you rode his face. You turned on the TV, you needed to distract yourself. Quickly. Erik smiled, his arm draped over the couch, legs spread. You took a quick glimpse at him, locking eyes. Oops. “What you looking over here for?”, he teased you.”Shut up.”

   “You remember when we was fucking? Like some crazy beast shit. Backshot after backshot. Yo ass was clapping on my dick. Sounding like a live audience. I thought I got you pregnant that day. You was really throwing that ass back. Just taking every single inch like pro.”, he looked at you, “You remember that?” You hated when he tried shit like that. “You over there squirming. You leave a little hair on it like I like?”, he smirked. You realized you were going to have to give into temptation. You hadn’t had your back blown out since you and him broke up. And that was week ago, too damn long. “Yeah.”, you responded. “Mmhm. You ain’t had Daddy in a while.”, his locs were down, another weakness of yours. 

   He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “How long you think you was gon last without this dick?” You smirked, “Just fuck me Erik, you taking too long.” Erik laughed, “There you go. Closed mouths don’t get fed.”, his hand was around your throat as he kissed you hard, tongue swirling around your mouth. Wet, messy sex was what you craved. And that’s what you were going to get. You moaned in between the kiss, you hands were down your shorts massaging your pulsing clit, you were beyond wet, your fingers were covered in your nectar. “Take them shits off.”, Erik demanded as he pulled at your shorts. You slid them off, past your knees and threw them to the side. Erik lifted up your legs and buried his face in your pussy, his tongue worked magic as he flicked his tongue over your swollen clit. You jerked forward. He sucked on on your clit as he used two fingers to thrust into you. “Ohh M-fuck!”, you moaned holding onto the couch with one hand and the other hand rested on the back of Erik’s head. He continued as you squirmed on the couch, moving forward. He gripped your ass as he tongue-fucked you. “Erik...”, you moaned louder, your lifted up your shirt and pinched your nipples. He smacked your ass and came up, “You miss this dick?” You nodded weakly, “Yes Daddy.”, you whimpered. He pulled down his pants and boxers, watching you finger yourself, making deep thrusts. 

     Erik lifted up your legs again, closing them together and pummeled into your wet folds, skin slapping together, sounding like wet flip flops at the beach. With every stroke you let out a small whimpered and he gazed into your eyes, thirsty  for every inch of you. He admired your body and tugged you closer to him, he grunted, “Damn baby girl.”, he parted your legs and pulled you closer to him. You held your legs as he grabbed your waist, he was slamming into you as hard as he could, making sure you got every inch. “Oh fuckkkkk.”, you gasped. “You gon take this dick?”, Erik growled. “Yes daddyyyy. Erik I’m cumming”, you twitched. Erik went harder, pounding into you, growling like a hungry beast. You were writhing on his dick, overwhelmed. Erik slammed into you, one big deep stroke, filling you with cum. His lil twinkie. 

    You caught your breath and slid back on the couch. “We ain’t done yet. Get up.”, Erik stroked his dick. You stood up and Erik picked you up and carried you to your bed. He threw you down, making you bounce back. He pulled your legs and gestured for you to turn over. You turned over and poked your ass up, making sure to arch your back. Erik slid in slow, spreading your ass cheek a little. Once he made sure he was in, he pumped in and out, slow, deep strokes. He held on to your waist as you gripped your blankets. He grabbed a handful of your braids and twisted then in his hand. He started speeding up, smacking your ass and gripping in his hand. He slowed down and let you throw it back as you wriggled your ass on his dick while massaging your clit. “Daddy mmmmm.”, you melted into the bed, squirting on his dick. “Mmmm shit.”, Erik pulled out and came all over your ass. You turned over, exhausted, “Time out.”, you sighed and laid back on the bed. “You better be ready for round two.”, Erik stretched and laid next to you. You put your leg over him and nuzzled against him, your hand resting on his chest, “I missed you.” Dick had you talking in tongues. “I missed you too baby girl.”, he kissed your hand, “Imma still fuck up any nigga that come close to you. I don’t give a fuck.”