#method man x reader

You also couldn't figure out how his tall self managed to squeeze into your twin XL dorm bed, but you weren’t in any position to question it either. The room was dark, only illuminated by the dim screen of your television on the dresser, in addition to the red LED lights on the wall above you. Whichever tv show began when your movie went off went unnoticed, their conversations drowned out by the breathy pants escaping your lips. 

The lewd sounds filling up the room had you both in heaven. Beautiful brown bodies under that rouge coloring– moaning, grunting, smacking, and squishing. Like one of those early 2000s classic Ebony films–just nasty. You could only hope no one could hear from outside your door. 

You moved your hips up and down, taking him all the way down to the base each time, biting your lip with a debauched look on your face. You watched as Silas moaned, loud and needy and uncaring, his eyes rolling back into his head. Your confidence shot up through the roof, leading you to take a little more control. You held his jaw with your dominant hand, bringing your lips up to his earlobe and letting your mouth run off whatever popped into your head, not leaving a second to second guess yourself. 

“Does it feel good when I do it like that?”

With your soft, teasing voice in his ears, you squeezed your inner walls, slowing yourself a bit and ignoring that growing burn in your thighs. “You betta stop it, girl..” His voice came out grunted, rough. His fingers dug into your hips as he struggled to hold onto his nut, a deep moan vibrating through his chest. 

“What about when I do it like that? Hmm?”

You felt him nodding against your skin before his hips stuttered, kissing your spot perfectly for only  a split second. Your body jerked up, momentarily frozen around him as your vision went white. “Silas, FUCK, I’m–!!!”

“Yeahhh, let it out baby..” He murmured, a goofy, cocky grin spreading across his face. Even then, you could still tell that he was struggling to hold on, with your pussy pulsing,  nearly suffocating him like a goddamn boa constrictor. 

Silas kept his eyes on you, his focus wandering up and down, and back and forth, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to fixate on only one part of you. He loved your thighs–every time you’d wear this particular pair of biker shorts that defined each of your curves, he would have to mentally go elsewhere just to keep from bursting out his jeans.

Your breasts also held a special place in his heart, especially in those times where he’d seek you out for comfort, resting against the soft, cushiony headrest that your chest provided. Similarly, the softness of your tummy was something he could never turn down, he’d be touching on it every time you showed a little extra skin in a crop top or a backless dress.

As you slowed down to a stop on top of him, he let his hands wander. His left hand traveled up your side, slowly, taking in your beautiful map of scars and stretch marks on the way. Once his thick fingers reached your breasts, they traced around your mocha areolas before latching onto your hardened nipples. Silas rubbed and pinched lightly, alternating between teasing each as he watched the euphoric haze grow across your face. 

“Silas…” You still were sensitive from your sudden orgasm, slightly trembling from the aftershocks as he touched you. Nevertheless, that warmth and excitement began to flood your core once again, that hunger taking over your every thought. His hard dick throbbing eight inches deep inside your core didn't help either. But you needed more, you craved to see him, feel him come undone inside of you. 

You gasped as his right hand made its way to your throat, keeping your gaze steadily on his. The grip of his fingers on your skin had you feeling weak, and under his spell. And his voice, all deep and rough and dripping with desire.

“I gotchu mama, just tell me what you need..” Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in the glaze of sweat on his forehead, above his furrowed eyebrows, as well as the slight pout in his plump bottom lip. You wanted to bite it so bad. “Tell daddy what you need, baby, I gotta hear you.”

Silas repeating the nickname you accidentally gave him the first time you’d hooked up made your tummy flutter. You couldn’t believe it yourself when the word flew out your mouth, while you blurredly watched him take you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror in some frat party bathroom. From then he never let you forget it. He always made sure to remind you of his special status, without fail making you cum harder than anyone else ever had, every single time. 

“Cum in me, Si...please.” 

The plea fell from your lips as you lazily swirled your hips in his lap, enjoying the way his curved length rubbed deliciously against all your inner spots. Like you were made to fit one another. Your hands held onto his right arm as he continued to choke you, only slightly tightening his grip around your throat. The growing lack of air made you tense around his dick, whining and moaning out as he spoke. “You know if I cum in this pussy, that means it's mine, right?” 

Hearing those words with that thick New York accent while he was so deep in your belly nearly made you cum again. Leaning in, you nodded your response with your gaze fixed directly on his brown eyes.

A look of understanding flashed across Silas’ face for a second, before he released your throat, hand settling on the nape of your neck to bring you in closer. Your plush lips met his own as he swallowed down your moans, exploring your mouth with his hungry tongue.

You opened up, letting him take control of the nastiest kissing you’ve ever participated in–tongues dancing, spit swapping, lip sucking until both of your mouths were glistening. Sinful. 

Silas’ free hand squeezed your hip, grounding you on top of him as he began to slowly grind up into you. Your mouths separated but your faces remained close as he held the back of your neck. Silas watched your face contort while he deepened his stroke inside you, letting you feel every single inch in your stomach.

The only thing you could focus on was his mouth, and how much you wanted that bottom lip back in your mouth. Fuzziness took over your brain, your eyes tearing up from the agonizingly slow but deep pace he was set on. 

The moment was intimate, much more than it had been previously, closer and slower than all those other times Silas had you broken you down. For the past few weeks, you resorted to quickies on the bathroom counter if you were at a party, in either of your cars parked somewhere dark, you’d even let him finger you under the table in the library while you were supposed to be “studying”. And now, with your roommate gone for the weekend, you were finally able to have a nice, passionate moment in a bed. 

In a way, the rushed, adrenaline-filled aspect of all your previous entanglements in those less intimate settings kept you from taking a deeper look at your relationship with Silas. You were friends, albeit much, much closer than “normal” friends should be. You met in a shared biology lecture, after Silas showed up late–and high as hell–and the only seat left open was to your right. You eventually agreed to become study partners, and you didn’t mind when some of those late night study sessions in Silas’ dorm turned into heated smoke sessions, which further turned into nasty intoxicated confessions from you both. 

Silas propped his feet up, lifting his hips before flipping you both over. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees, pushing back and kneeling down to lick a slow, wide stripe up your glossy cunt. You cried out from the new stimulation, squirming in his grasp.

“You taste so mothafuckin’ good, girl..” He moaned against your pussy in appreciation, slurping up your juices and rhythmically sucking on your clit with those pretty ass lips of his. You were entranced, eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, wondering what good you had done in this world to deserve all the bliss flowing through your system.

You watched as he pulled back from your pussy, chin glistening in your essence. He spread your sticky lips apart with two big fingers, hungrily watching you clench and pulse around nothing. The ravenous look in his eyes as he stared at your pussy turned you on like no other. They met yours again, and he licked and bit on his lip, letting you know that he was craving more, just as you were.

Your eyes and mouth fell wide open when Silas let a string of warm spit fall directly onto your clit, both the sensation and the view filling you with an immense amount of pleasure. You could feel the electricity flowing from your pussy to your toes, and back up through your spine, a complete shock to your system.

He let your legs fall to the side, big, warm hands on your face as he leaned in, kissing you once more. The sounds of you both groaning into each other's mouths as you tasted yourself on his lips echoed throughout the room. Your hips grinded up against his, needing to feel his length on and in you again. He pulled away first, one of his hands coming down to pin your knee out to the side, setting you still in place. “You want me to cum in this pussy?” 

You nodded, almost too eagerly. There was nothing else on your mind but the vision of him leaking out of you, vanilla cream dripping down your lips, the perfect match for your coffee complexion.

“Use ya words, boo.” 

You reached up, manicured hands pulling his face to just a couple inches from your own. He watched, expectantly, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips and back up again. You could feel him now, twitching and leaking against your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “Cum in your pussy, Daddy.” 

With a curse under his breath, he sheathed himself inside of you in a quick movement, pausing once he filled you to the base. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into your eyes, mouth hung open like he’d never felt the warm, tight hug of your cunt around him before. His breath faltered, warm breath against your lips and vulnerability written across his face.

Your own breath was caught in your chest when he slid back, and then forced out when he pushed inside, gliding through your slick walls with ease. A wail escaped your lips as he punished your pussy, or at least that’s what it felt like he was doing. Reminding you of who he was. And reminding you of who you were. 

Your eyes clamped shut, toes curling and spine arching up off the bed more and more each time he touched your precious g-spot. Another orgasm began to build within your core, your body tightening up underneath him as you fiercely dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Curses flew from your lips, broken and jumbled together, barely making any sense. You released his face, blindly allowing your hands to find his shoulders for support. Silas leaned down, moaning and groaning in your ear, filling you up with his dick before taking it all away, over and over and over again. 

“Daddyyy…fuck!!!” 

“Tell me it’s mine, baby, c’mon ma, I’m so fuckin’ close…” 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and all your juices, creating the nastiest smacking sound each time he plunged inside. “It’s yours, I swear to god, it’s all yours baby, ohmyfuckinggoddd…”  You rambled off, barely even able to hear your own words. Your brain was much more focused on the ecstacy spreading through your entire body, making you tingle from your head to your toes. “I’m gonna cum, daddy, please don’t stop!!” 

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, gimme that shit!” He kept the pace strong, not letting up until you fell apart on his dick one final time, this time with your juices spraying and splashing between your bodies. Your tightness mixed with the sudden wetness of your squirt sent him over the edge, causing him to yell out as he finally released deep inside you. 

“Fuuuck!!” His hips twitched and stuttered as he emptied himself out, not daring to pull out while you were still grasping onto him from underneath.

You whimpered, your body trembling, shaking like a leaf as your nails dug into his shoulders, deep enough to leave a few red crescent-shaped marks. The feeling of his nut filling you gave you the warmest feeling in your tummy, satisfaction spreading through your mind, body, and soul.

The two of you rested for a moment, the sounds of your heavy breathing became your only focus. The audience laughter from the television was more noticeable now, but neither of you could care less. Silas let more of his weight fall on you, cradling you from above while you calmed down your breathing. You turned your face, tucking yourself into his neck and leaving a few soft kisses on the damp skin in appreciation. 

Silas softly chuckled when you teased him with your tongue against his collarbone, knowing you both were too tuckered out for another round just yet. He pulled out of you, slowly, hissing at the overstimulation on his sensitive length. Sitting back on his knees in between your legs, he watched in admiration as seed spilled from your swollen lips, giving him a perfect view of the most beautiful painting he’s ever laid his eyes on–better than anything he’s seen in the MET. 

Observing his mark on you–in you–was gratifying, a surge of endearment and devotion growing within his own core. “C’mere..” 

You obeyed, lazily allowing him to reposition you on top of his chest, your faces just centimeters apart. 

“Tell me somethin’ real quick...you meant it?” 

That vulnerable look was back, although he did try to hide it by avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on your slightly puffy lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting and sucking. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew it was more than just dirty sex talk–something had been growing between the two of you and it was undeniable at this point. 

“Every word.”

“Hey girl.” Y/F/N smiled at you just as she finished buffing tables.

You never understood why she was buffing tables if she had this famous producer as a father. But, she always talked about not wanting to depend on her famous father, that she had luxury and leisure but, she wanted independence. She and you both attended the same school, it was a public school but also private, mainly for the rich and powerful, you weren’t rich nor were your parents powerful, but your scholarship landed you here. Being a talented actress, pianist and singer. Your talent was what got you where you are. “Hey, so what are we doing after you get off work?” You sat down and waited for the other waitress to bring over your food.

“I have to meet my father at the stu,” she rolled her eyes.

You laughed. “You hate the studio or something?” Your friend shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I just rather be doing something else then meeting him in the studio with his artist, like I can not stand them.” You knew where she was coming from, some male artist were thirsty and you hated working with a lot of them, some wouldn’t even let you clear records if you didn’t sleep with them, shit be funny. You always made sure you had more than just you in a studio session with a male artist, because you weren’t about to put yourself out like that. Your career was not about to be based on that. You weren’t some career-hopper, you weren’t about to do whatever to boost sells or your name.

“You never know though, maybe he has a mellow artist in the studio with him today, did he tell you who?”

She shrugged. “My father never tells me whose he’s working with until the product is complete or until I happen to walk in on him and an artist in the studio. Like the one time, one of his female artist was being a total groupie, all over him and was trying to sleep with him so he could make her single go platinum.” You shook her head. “Oh wow, do I know this artist? And, did he sleep with her?” She shrugged. “I don’t know but, I doubt it. My father don’t get down like that and even if he did sleep with her, nine times out of ten, she still didn’t go platinum. But, I mean she had to be at least seventeen so I doubt he did or would ever admit to it.”

“Seventeen? I hope he wasn’t on no R,Kelly shit?”

She laughs. “Not even.” She assures me, as the waitress brought over my milkshake, burger and fries. “I’ll get back with you in a minute though.” She said to me, you just nodded your head and went to eating your food, you took a bite into your burger scrolling through your instagram notifications. Seeing multiple likes on your latest post, a video of you playing the piano and singing a cover to Alicia Keys ‘No One’. Which was by far one of your favorite songs by one of your favorite artist at the time. Growing up, all you wanted was to be the next Alicia. Your talent could put you there. You already had multiple labels wanting to sign you, but you chose to remain an Independent Artist. You’ve even wrote a few songs for a couple hot artist out right now, like Ariana Grande and, Chris Brown. 

“Y/N.” You looked away from your phone and to your ex boyfriend, you shook your head, he had been trying to get back with you for the longest.

Jordan Baker. Star Athlete, but soon started to loose his game. He wasn’t the star of the show any more due to a new player on the scene, and every since then, you and his relationship wasn’t the same. But he was the sweetest guy in the world, but, you and he eventually called it quits and decided to just be friends whilst he got himself together. “Jordan. Hi.” You greeted, he slightly smiled pulling out a chair. “Hey, how you been? You’ve been avoiding me around school.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you, Jordan. I’ve just been busy with trying to get this song together for the talent show.” 

Jordan was a lot of things; sweet, charming, handsome and all around perfect in a lot of ways but he was also damaged. I always found myself attracted to boys that needed fixing, and when I was done fixing them, I would leave. I was a fixer, I guess. I couldn’t help it though, when you have some issues you liked to find someone with the same. I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be with someone who wasn’t damaged. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay.” It’s been a little awkward between us too, since he and I lost our child, awhile back before Spencer joined the team, he and I were expecting. Of course, we never told our parents about the baby because we wanted to be sure what we would do concerning it. I knew I wasn’t ready to be a mother; but I also didn’t believe in abortion. But, life had other plans for me… for us.

“I miss you, we have to talk.” I just took another bite of my fry, looking him over. Truth was, I missed Jordan too but, a relationship isn’t what I was missing. I was missing sex, I haven’t had good sex in a good minute and it was definitely crossing my mine, just imagining my hands over his perfectly shaped chest and abs, my nails dugged down deep into his abs. Yeah, I was missing the way he would pull my hair as he beat my pussy from the back. My favorite position was always back shots, his was missionary of course, he loved watching his dick slide in and out of my pussy like a pool stick. He was the best I have had, well all of my eighteen years. And, I’m sure there’s plenty of men who would jump on board to sleep with me.

But I wasn’t one to just jump into bed with a random. Nah’, that wasn’t in my character. I was all for good sex, but I couldn’t just pick up a random guy and sleep with him. I was too afraid of diseases. “I miss you too, Jordan. But you know I’m not ready for us to get back together.”

“I understand.” He nods. “But could we at least talk? I miss my best friend more than anything, I want nothing more but to hang out like the good ol’ days.” You took another fry into your mouth, and was just about to open your mouth again to speak when Y/F/N walked over with her regular clothes on and purse. Indicating that she was off of work. “We could do something later today. I’ll call you.” You stood to your feet dropping down a tip. He nods his head, you both hugged and you followed your friend out the cafe. “Girl, you and Jordan trying to get back together? Not that im not here for it but, there’s plenty of ballers to try out.”

———.

You laugh. “Jordan and I have been through a lot together, I love him. But no, im not trying to get back together with him. Doesn’t mean I’m not tryna fuck, though.”

“Girl, look around.. there’s plenty of brothers here on campus, look at him. He’s been eye-ing you ever since you and I walked out the cafe.”

Shaking your head. “And? I don’t fuck with randoms. You already knew that though. So, why you pressing the issue? I swear you trying to make me a city girl or some’?” She laughs. “Maybe just a little, I want you to loosen up and shit. Have a little fun.” You shook your head as you both walked to her car. You still hadn’t gotten your own ride and you was waiting for the day you could purse it, you already had all the money saved up and you were just waiting to make that purchase. “I can have fun and loosen up without getting loosened. Okay?” She laughs shaking her head.

———

“Damn, this studio building is bigger than most I’ve been in.”

You looked around the building as you both made your way in it, the guards waved at her. Some other artist were walking around some of which I were huge fans of but I didn’t want to freak out, I had to play my cool and act like I was used to this shit. We kept walking until we past by a room, and walked into another. You could see the neon lights flashing “On Air” and music coming from the inside even though it was a bit muffled. She knocked, then opened the door, smoke lingered around the room, she and I coughed fanning it away. The smoke eventually cleared out and my eyes darted to the man leaned back in the chair, blocking smoke and bobbing his head and his eyes went from the rapper in the booth, to mine. He licked his lip leaning forward, causing the chair to sit up straight.

“Hold on,” He said sitting up in his seat. He wore a nice suit that hugged his biceps.

The man was by far the sexiest man I had ever seen. He cleared out the studio. “Hey Princess.” I shook my head out my trance that he was in. He was just plain sexy. But, he was my friend’s father. Not to mention, much, much older then me. “Hi, daddy. So you got Dave East fine ass in the studio?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Girl, sit your fast ass down.” She laughs sitting down with me sitting next to her. “Oh dad, this is my friend I was telling you about. Y/n meet my dad, Clifford but just call him Method. Everybody else does, he hates his name.”

“That is true, only the real can call me Cliff. Nice to meet you, yeah, my daughter showed me a few of your covers on YouTube. When you gonna let me sign you?”

You were honored. Method fucking Man. He wanted to sign you, you always had a crush on Method Man. You though he was the finest man to walk the planet earth next to Idris Elba and Morris Chestnut, but, he was truly the one man you would not hesitate to fuck. Anywhere. You just couldn’t believe your best friend was his daughter. “I’m not signing to no labels right now but I’ll hear out your offer.” He smiled, his perfect teeth shined like new money. The neon lights reflected on the silver cap he had in his mouth, “Alright. I’ll put that together and get back with you.”

“Dad. What you wanted me to come by for?”

You and him couldn’t help but steal light glances at each other from time to time, he would be a fool to deny that he found you to be attractive. But he wouldn’t admit that out loud, you were after all the same age as his little girl and, he wasn’t about to go down that road. “I wanted you to come by because there’s a new female artist, Tima. I’m signing her soon and I need you to write a good track that’ll put her on the map; my plan is to release a single release party for her soon and get her some exposure.”

“This isn’t the seventeen year old, is it?”

He laughs. “Nah’. It’s not Alyssa. I dropped her from the label the minute she tried to get me to sleep with her.” It was amazing how open they were, I wasn’t this open with my father let alone my mother. “Okay, good. Cause’, she wasn’t going to make it too far in this game with her legs wide.” I snickered. He chuckled. “She would’ve made it far, but not for good reasons. Probably would die soon from AIDS. Or something. Any way, you can drop in tomorrow and get a feel of Tima. She reminds me of Brandy. She got a nice vibe to her, that old school vocals. So, I want something that’ll catch every one’s eyes and have them begging for more.”

“You know I’m a writer dad, but for somebody else? It’s difficult.”

He brushed the side of his face. “Alright well, talk to Chris for me. Ask him who helped him write that track Iffy? That shit was good.” She looked over at me, I chuckled. “I did.” He raised an eyebrow, “You write?” I nod my head, “I’ve written a couple songs. That was one.” He put out his blunt, “Yeah, I’ll definitely be doing business with you. Could you possibly do that for me?” I rubbed my arm. “I could but, I need to know what exactly you looking for in the music, the melody and all of that, need to get the feeling of the artist..the whole nine. I can’t just write on a whim.”

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

She was one of my biggest supporters so it didn’t take her long to volunteer my services. “She will be here. But first dad, my girl doesn’t do this for free? How much we talking?” He looked at me. “How much do you want?” I had never been asked that question before, I didn’t exactly know how much I wanted, or what I wanted. “The pay is in your hands. You’re doing me a solid, I’ll take care of you. No worries.” He smiled. Y/f/n grinned over at you. “Dad, why don’t the two of you just talk this over tonight? I have an errand to run and I’ll be back to pick her up?” You was hesitant about that. “It’s up to her. I just finished up with Dave, I just gotta cut the track and do some last minute editing. So, I can show you some videos of Tima singing and you can get a feel of her vocals. I can actually drop you off at home..”

“Uh..” You was not trying to be alone with this man, but you trusted him, solely because he was your friends father.

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I let a moan escape when I feel his large hand come up my stomach then reach one of my breasts. He squeezes it tenderly. My nipple pebbles up beneath his touch.

“Thought you had gotten lost.” He said once our lips separated. I bit my bottom lip as my eyes scanned his handsome face. My man was aging like the finest of wines and I felt so lucky.

“Nope. Just came out to see the view. It’s beautiful.” That’s when we both focused on the scenery before us. The sky was clear with a few fluffy clouds littering it, the mass of water was also clear with a blue tint that’s only seen on travel websites.

This was an impromptu getaway for us. Work was overwhelming but overall, I just missed being underneath my man and I was sure he missed being all up under me. Hence why he hasn’t kept his hands off of me since we boarded his private yacht.

“You know what else is gorgeous?” he asked. His hand was now plastered on my abdomen. I hummed, prompting him to continue.

“You. But you already knew that.”

“Yep, because you never miss the chance to tell me.” I responded with a loving smile. He beamed down at me before pressing his lips to mine again. His sweet kisses didn’t distract me from the feeling of his large hand coming in between my legs to cup my pussy. I jerked in surprise but relaxed once more as his lips stole my attention. He held me right there, almost teasing me but I wasn’t going for it. I snatched his hand away before turning to throw myself on him. He caught me by my waist, lifting me by the backs of my thighs. My arms automatically draped around his broad shoulders. I was finally able to view him. His upper body was bare, showcasing those abs and chest that I loved to put my lips onto. Sweatpants covered what I really wanted but, in due time, I would receive it.

My nails scratched along the back of his skull to the nape of his neck. I felt my vaginal muscles clench around nothing once I heard that lustful growl from him. He pecked along my chest, close to my neck, as he walked to what I assumed was one of the long cream colored Chaise lounge chairs that sat on this level of the boat. His lips vacated my body as he placed me down. I was about to remove my robe but he stopped me, saying he wanted me to keep it on since the color looked good against my skin. Couldn’t argue with him there.

He maneuvered down onto his knees before me. He scanned me. Starting from my face and down my body. I could tell he was speechless. When I first met him, I hadn’t thought of working out but one day I tagged along with him to the gym and ever since then we’ve always worked out together. And it was paying off. I was still fluffy but everything else had either toned up or became plump and firm, just a good transformation. He was there with me to witness it and he loved me deeply at every stage.

As he admired my bare frame, he placed his hands onto my knees, moving them in opposite directions. I wish I had my phone to capture the pure look of affection and hunger that clouded his face when my middle was finally exposed.

He didn’t let another second pass before diving head first. He pressed my thighs back and out, I was now wide open for him. His tongue circled around my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The pressure damn near knocked me out. He was so focused, the way his eyebrows furrowed, the calculated swivel of his tongue, he always knew how to please me, a selfless lover.

“Taste so damn sweet…I could do this all day.” he grinned up at me. I giggled but it transformed into a deep groan when he dragged his tongue from my clit to my opening. His look didn’t leave mine as he flicked his tongue. He was killing me.

It was like ASMR, the ocean waves combined with the sounds of him tasting me. I finally gained control of my vocal chords to moan out. It did nothing but egg him on. He shook his head from side to side while slurping me up. I almost flew off the chair when he began rubbing his finger on my clit while tongue fucking me. His tongue pistoning in and out. I was so out of my head that I didn’t even realize he raised up just enough to pull his pants low enough for his member to be freed. After letting a string of saliva fall from his mouth and onto my pussy, he slid in. I immediately clenched down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He moaned breathlessly. “Pussy already tightening up on me. Gonna cum already?”

“Yes,” I said, dazed. “So fucking big…” and he was. Big and girthy. The first time we had sex, I didn’t think I could last even ten minutes but he made me take it.

My eyes rolled back once he placed one of his large hands onto my throat and the other went to work on my sensitive bundle of nerves. His strokes didn’t slow up either. His work on my clit matched the rhythm of his thrusts. The hand around my neck was applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Keep fucking me—shit!” I managed to squeak out. He had fed me all nine inches of him. I stared up at him through my lashes, sweat appeared on his face, his eyes were shut, and he shook his head side to side.

“Good ass pussy…don’t make no fucking sense…” he panted out as he countinued stroking me. He managed to change angles and that’s when my face contorted into one that I knew had to be ugly. My feet curled into fists. I sensed that familiar tingle at the base of my lower region. He could sense I was close to cumming too because the hand around my throat applied more pressure. The hand that was on my clit had moved to one of my breasts, he squeezed while fucking me senseless.

That tingle got stronger until it burst and the feeling hit every corner of my body. I trembled underneath him but that didn’t slow him down.

“Wait—shit!” Pussy was sensitive as hell and he still wanted to keep going. I was ready to throw in the towel.

“Nah, ain’t no ‘wait’. Daddy gotta get his nut too.”

All I could do was lay there. He wouldn’t stop until he was finished. But I knew what would make him finish faster.

I slide my hand in between our bodies. His eyes followed, wonder coming across his face. I locked eyes with him as I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick and used it to propel his dick inside of me. My fingers would occasionally reach down to fumble with his balls that were full of warm cum that I yearned to taste.

“Stop that. I know what you’re doing—“

“Nah, Daddy gotta get his nut too right? Well let me help you.” I said seductively.

“Y/N—“ it sounded like a warning but he wasn’t able to finish it, as I had grabbed the back of his head to bring him closer to me. I kissed him,effectively making him weak. His head landed in my neck. I took that opportunity to run my tongue along the shell of his ear before being his ear lobe into my mouth. Resulting in him groaning and his hips faltering.

I whispered dirty words of encouragement. He couldn’t resist my dirty talk but it was one specific phrase that I knew would make him blow.

“Mm…baby… this your pussy?”

“Hell yeah.” His voice was shaky.

Making sure I sounded sensuous enough I said, “Then cum in it. Cum all in your pussy.”

And he did, with a booming shout of my name.

She dressed in her NYU sweatpants and sweatshirt with her gray Nike Air Trainer Max ‘93. She ran a brush through her freshly blown out hair, getting the perfect volume that she desired. Y/N couldn’t live without music so she grabbed her Walkman, headphones, and her Janet Jackson ‘Janet’ cassette. Thankfully, her aunt didn’t live a great distance away, at most ten minutes and the store was on the way there.

The weather was decent for a day in March in New York. The area Y/N lived in, nicknamed Killer Hill, always had people out and about but today, due to the comfortable temperature, the normal population had more people added. Placing her headphones over her ears, Janet Jackson to grace her ears. She observed her surroundings as she walked, taking in the urban view of her neighborhood. Y/N loved her community but couldn’t wait to leave it. Crime and drugs plagued it and overshadowed the sense of community that it once had. She prayed that once she finished college at NYU, she would land a good job and be able to move away to bigger and better. Until then, she would slum it in her one bedroom apartment.

Y/N arrived at the convenience store minutes later. List in hand, she searched for her aunt’s requested items. When she made sure she had everything on the list, she checked out at the register, then commenced her trek to her aunt’s apartment building. Approaching the building was never her favorite part. The local drug addicts and dealers would always catcall and whenever she attempted to ignore their advances, derogatory terms would be thrown at her. All she could do was shake her head in disappointment. Fortunately, no one was out on the prowl today. But when she opened the building’s front door, she knew why. Even with her headphones on, she could sense the deep bass that was expelled from the boom box that sat on the floor against the far wall. There was a group of men surrounding the source of the music but only one stood out to her.

Dressed in an oversized black jacket, baggy black pants, and black classic Timberland boots. He had what appeared to be cornrows in his hair, a black textured headband covering his hairline. The man focused on the notepad that was in his hand, his other hand performed motions that went along with the lyrics he said. Y/N paused her music, closely listening, his use of word play was creative, effectively drawing her in. He was spitting real shit. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stay and oversee for too long. She gathered the strength and confidence to cross the lobby to the staircase. All eyes ended up on her. The beat that played acted as an instrumental for her steps. The man that was rapping had stopped his poetic spiel to watch her pass. Approaching the stairs, Y/N made the grave mistake of glancing back over her shoulder. From that split second, she noticed curiosity and interest in the man’s stare.

She took the stairs two at a time, careful with the groceries in her arms, until she reached her aunt’s floor. The door swung open after Y/N knocked twice. She stepped inside, her aunt greeting her with a hug and kiss on her cheek before taking the bags from her hand. As her aunt went to put away the items, Y/N went to take a seat in her living room, dropping her walkman onto the wooden coffee table. She immediately got that homey energy from the space. It was nostalgic. Taking a seat on the plastic covered couch, Y/N’s peered between the photos that were hung up on the walls.

“How have you been, honey?” Mariol asked as she entered the living room in her colorful housecoat. She sat beside Y/N with a comforting smile planted on her face as she anticipated her niece's response.

“I’ve been good.” Y/N replied.

“School causing you any trouble?”

“When doesn’t it?” They both giggled.

“But you’re a smart girl. You’ll get through it and it’ll be worth it when you get that degree.” She poked her shoulder heartily. Y/N nodded at her words. They made more conversation about their recent endeavors until they became silent for a moment.

“So…you seein’ anyone?” Mariol quizzed, eyes swimming with anticipation.

“Auntie—“ Y/N huffed.

“Sorry but, you’re a beautiful young lady and I never hear or see you with someone. I just had to ask.”

“To answer your question, no, I’m not seeing anyone and don’t really plan on it. Feel like it would interfere with my studies.”

“I get it. But understand that school shouldn’t take over your life. You're still young. Go out and live a little bit. Before you know it, time’ll sneak up on you and you’ll be sixty with a hundred cats.”

“I promise I won’t end up like that.” Y/N chuckled. “It’s just not my focus at the moment. School is.”

“I hear you, baby. But still, think about what I said. Plus, you never know…you might meet that one person that’ll change your mind.”

Mariol chose to switch subjects, continuing to update Y/N on the neighborhood news all while Y/N sat and listened. She appreciated being able to be in her aunt’s solicitous presence. Her energy was so alluring, gentle, and comfortable. She made a mental note to visit her more often. Eventually, Mariol checked the time and discovered it was about time for lunch. She invited Y/N to join her and Y/N gladly agreed. Who was going to turn down a free, home cooked meal?

Mariol departed to the kitchen to go fix their lunch. Now alone, Y/N spotted the television remote on the coffee table, switched on the TV, and flipped through channels to find something to entertain her. A knock at the door interrupted her search.

“I got it!” Y/N notified her aunt.

Unlocking the door, she swung it open. Eyes widening vaguely, she stood there stunned as the man who she witnessed rapping down in the building’s lobby standing on the opposite side of the doorframe.

“Uhm–can I help you?” Y/N asked after several moments of anxious silence.

“Yeah. Is Ms.Sutton here?”

“Clifford?! Is that you?” Mariol yelled from the kitchen. Y/N watched as he slightly cringed at the use of his name. Y/N could tell that he was one to go by a nickname.

“Yes ma’am.” he responded loud enough for her to hear. He was speaking to her aunt while staring directly at Y/N.

“Y/N, baby, let him in.”

And she did. As he walked past, a distinct woody scent mixed with hints of weed assaulted her nasal passage. Y/N collected herself after she closed the door behind him. Walking back into the living room, she expected him to be in there but he wasn’t. Instead, she detected that he had ended up in the kitchen, speaking with her aunt. She caught bits of their conversation. He inquired about her well-being. Mariol asked about his music. Y/N became hypnotized by the silky, deep timbre of his voice. She would love to fall asleep listening to it.

Snapping out of her own thoughts, she shifted on the couch to make it appear as if she weren’t eavesdropping when she heard the heavy sound of his boots hitting the floor. She focused on the television that was currently playing a rerun episode of ‘227’. She could sense him entering the space, walking over to the adjacent lounge chair that was also covered in plastic. She didn’t look toward him in fear that he would see all the emotions dancing in her eyes. He was attractive, talented, and appeared to be caring from the way he spoke with her aunt.

“Y/N, right?” he questioned.

Her toes flexed in her gym shoes as a way to gather herself. Unbeknownst to her aunt, the reason Y/N wasn’t seeing anyone was partially because of her school but the other half consisted of her not being able to talk to men that she found attractive. She would freeze up, mind gone blank. This was one of those times and usually other people would be around so she would shrink off to the side but no one else was in the living room besides them, leaving Y/N to place her fears to the side and talk to him.

“Yeah…Clifford?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She chuckled at the clear dislike he had for his name.

“What? What’s wrong with it.” She asked, watching as he unzipped his oversized jacket to reveal a simple white t-shirt that contorted to every curve and edge of his lean body.

“Nothing. Just hard to be taken seriously with it.”

“Seems that you’re doing well with it though. I saw you down there…everyone down there seemed to take you seriously. You’re pretty good.” She admitted with a smile playing on her lips.

“Pretty good? You and I both know I’m better than that, ma.” He sat back into his seat, his legs swinging back and forth. Y/N looked between his handsome face and the inviting movement of his lower body. Mixed with the profound way he examined her, the room’s temperature was rising.

“Uhm—I’m not really a rap person so my opinion really isn’t valid to be honest.” She rambled, looking back toward the television.

“What you like? R&B?”

She nodded.

“Oh, we gotta expand yo’ mind, mama. Lemme be your first introduction into rap.”

That made her look at him again. She could see the amusement in his look. Thankfully, he couldn’t physically see the heat rising to her cheeks.

Mariol walked into the living room, breaking the tense moment. She held three plates that housed neatly made ham sandwiches and crispy fries. She gave Y/N and Clifford their plates and set her own onto the table before heading back into the kitchen and returning with three glasses of refreshing lemonade. After thanking Mariol and going to wash their hands, Y/N and Clifford made their way back to the living room, took their seats, and began to eat. Y/N, Mariol, and Clifford made nice conversation while in between bite. The television’s volume was turned down, now acting as background noise. Y/N gradually became comfortable around him with the presence of her aunt there. She allowed bits of her true personality to come to shine through and Clifford was fond of the change, drawing him in more.

“Clifford, what’s going on with your head?” Mariol asked as she finished up the last of her fries.

“I need my braids done again. Angie moved to Boston with her man so now I have to find someone else to do them for me.” He scratched at his three-week old braids that were behind the textured headband he wore. He took it off to be able to scratch the perimeter of his head.

“Y/N don’t you know how to braid?” Mariol asked her with a mischievous look.

Y/N stared between her and Clifford, who was anticipating her answer. “Yea—yeah, I do.” She took a bite out of her sandwich, internally face palming when she realized she bit too much. She chewed with stuffed cheeks.

“Can you do these for me?”

Y/N took her time nodding. Mariol snatched the plate from Y/N’s lap, putting it on top of her own before standing to take Clifford’s plate as well. Y/N was left with her sandwich in her hands, looking at her aunt confusingly.

“You can do it now. I know you see that head. He needs help as quickly as he can get it. I have some stuff in my bathroom. Go get it.” Mariol urged, flicking her hands as a way to tell Y/N to hurry.

Mariol walked away to the kitchen, not noticing the daggers Y/N stared into her back as she finished off her sandwich. Her eyes dropped to Clifford’s amused ones before she stood up to go get the needed hair products, swiping the crumbs from off of her clothes and hands.

She got a comb, cup of warm water, hair moisturizer, and a container of Blue Magic hair grease. Back in the living room, Clifford moved to take a seat on the floor while Y/N replaced him in the chair. He got settled in between her legs.

“I hope you’re not heavy handed.” He said with nervous anticipation. He would hate to have her see him flinching like a small child.

“I don’t think I am.” She replied, beginning to undo one of his frizzy braids.

“Mmm…we’ll see.”

Surprisingly, she wasn’t. She worked through his thick, kinky hair swiftly. She made sure his hair was properly moisturized, the parts were neat, and that the braids were tight enough to last. Him and Y/N got to talk some more since they were alone. Y/N learned that he had a serious passion for music. It was an escape for him. She further discovered that he would come up and visit her aunt and help her out whenever she needed it. That explained why he was even up here. Mariol had returned just as Y/N finished up the last braid. Y/N dipped her finger into the Blue Magic container, gathering enough of the thick consistency to spread it along the parts in his head. Y/N grinned as his head rocked back and forth lazily.

“Alright, I’m gonna head on for my nap. Y’all turn that TV off when y’all leave.” She advised before going to peck Y/N’s forehead before retiring to her bedroom.

Y/N finished greasing his scalp before closing all of the hair products.

“I’m done.” She softly shook him, bringing him back to reality. Y/N stood, moving from behind him to stretch her legs. He looked around, dazed.

“You done already?”

“Yep.” She said as she grabbed everything she used and took it to the bathroom. She returned to see him lifting from the floor, stretching his arms up above him and yawning. Y/N got a quick glimpse of his lower abdomen. She drew her eyes away from him before she became entranced. She internally chastised herself for being easily distracted by him. After turning off the TV as her aunt asked, she grabbed her walkman from the coffee table, making sure it was ready for use. As she approached the door and began to open it, a hand appeared above her further opening it for her to walk through. Y/N and Clifford descended the building’s steps in an enjoyable silence. Whenever she would sneak a quick glance at him, she would admire the shine of his freshly done hair. She was proud of her work.

As they reached the first floor, no one was in the lobby besides the makeshift security guard that sat behind a small desk, reading the newest issue of Ebony magazine. They exited the building, a sharp breeze whipping across their faces. Y/N planted her walkman into her pants pocket before setting her headphones onto her ears.

“Well…it was nice meeting you.” She finally said, turning to address him. She didn’t allow him to respond before hurriedly walking away. Before she could get far from the building she felt herself being pulled back. She was turned around, coming face to face with him. She watched as he fought on what to say.

“Are you seein’ anybody?” he asked, licking his full lips and looking her up and down.

“No. Not at the moment.”

“Mm…well, look, I got a lil’ battle coming up soon. I want you to come check it out.”

Y/N regarded his nonchalant, enticing manner. He was different from her usual selection of men. She could tell that he was someone that hung out with others that partook in ‘street’ activities that she wasn’t too educated on, yet, he didn’t participate in those activities. He had the look and attitude to blend in but his love for music set him apart. He saw himself as something bigger than Staten Island.

“Eric B. and Rakim gon’ be there.” He added, hoping that it would persuade her.

“Eric B. and Rakim?”

“Oh shit, forgot you not a hip-hop head. Just know they the real deal and if I win this battle it’s more exposure for me to get discovered.”

She nodded, pondering on his offer.

“C’mon, I want you to see me on a stage forreal instead of a funky ass apartment lobby.” They both shared a laugh.

“You say you battlin’, what do you go by? I know it’s not your real name.”

“Method Man.” He responded in all seriousness.

“Method Man,” she repeated, trying to get a feel for it.

“You come with me. I’ll show you why I chose it.”

Y/N didn’t know if he meant with his rap skills or something else from the way he was currently watching her. Shifting from foot to foot, she could feel that familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach, it was almost foreign to her since she hadn’t felt it in a while. Nerves caused her hands to sweat and she tried to avoid full on eye-contact with him.

“When is it?”

“Next Friday. I can get you a good seat if you come with me.”

He was slick and she loved it.

“How do I know when you’re gonna leave that day?”

“If I can get your number, I’ll let you know and come pick you up myself.” He offered optimistically.

Thankfully, she still had the piece of paper she used to write down the things her aunt needed. She tore off a small piece, found an old pencil on the ground, and wrote her number along with her address onto it then handed it to him.

“Alright, I’ll call you.” He said, accepting the piece of paper.

“Okay…see you then.” She grinned, placing her headphones on

“See you later, beautiful.” She heard him say before turning on her music to begin her walk home.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

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—————————————————————————————

‘Chapter Two…

‘If it was really that bad, you should’ve left’ the nine words that every single person in this room has repeated several times, trying to get you to confess to the crime. Something you would never do. Only person you’ve verbally told that you murdered your husband was to his colleague and friend, Davis Maclean. The only man who knew the truth about your husband. He knew the world would glady persecute you. Not knowing all the facts. None of it. And, he was not about to let you go down for murdering a scum like your husband. You sigh in complete aggravation. “Davis, I hired you to get me off.. So far you have been letting them paint me as a gold digger and indecent person.” You huff, running your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t you worry about what they are saying, Do you trust me?” Davis asks you.

You shook your head. “My answer should be yes, but I don’t even know you Davis. I just know that my husband bragged about how you were the best attorney he’s ever laid eyes on and your winnings-losses ratio is compelling.” He walks around his desk, he sits on it looking down at you. “Okay so let that be your answer. You can trust me and trust that no matter how hard they come, I will come harder. When this is over, they will be apologizing and eating out the palm of your hand. They’ll be the ones looking stupid and humilated. You’re the victim here, not him. And, I’ll make sure you won’t go down for this.” You looked him in the eyes. “Why do you believe me?” Davis folded his hands on eachother laying them on his lap. “Your husband was an asshat. But, do you remember the Christmas Eve party at your home?” You nodded your head yes. “I saw the way he was holding your wrist and keeping you close, so close to the point it was hard for you to breathe, not to mention the fresh bruises on your wrist. Many times, I wanted to talk to you about it, convince you to walk away, but I eventually let it go. I guess now this is my way of helping.”

“Well, I appreciate your help. But, how are you going to make it seem like I didn’t do this?”

He smiled. “You just let me worry about that, you just sit back and listen. But, today was just the start. It will get rough before it gets better. Is there anything you can tell me about your husband or your marriage that can be useful?” You grabbed a pen and paper, writing down all that you knew and where you hid the photos of the abuse. “I just want to be placed as a mourning widow, If you do put all of this out, the abuse.. His schemes, his clients he took.. Money laundering.. I want to make sure that it doesn’t hurt my case. I need them to see someone else other than me as the suspect, are there any other suspects?” He shook his head no, “None that I am aware of right now but, I will find out. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that this doesn’t bite you in the ass.” It was a long day in court, from the district attorney’s office piling on these reasonings for me to be the suspect, how the wife is almost always the leading suspect, how there was evidence that suggested that I had done it, some of the evidence was circumstantial at best, at least according to Davis. “They have no hard evidence on you, and once you set the denial in the air, the jury will always second guess. All we need is consistent doubt and lack of evidence which they have. Is there anything you aren’t telling me about that night? Any minor detail, tell you what; walk me through it.”

“Are you really going to let me relive that night by telling you what all happened?”

He nods. “I hate to do it to you, but any little detail matters. Because you may recall something you did, or something that happened that you didn’t disclose or think was relevant before.” Tucking your now straightened hair behind your ear, you started to recall the events from last night. “So after he finished raping me, something just snapped in me. I grabbed the knife and started stabbing him over and over again.” Davis leaned off the desk. “That was premeditated. But, I’m assuming you cleaned the knife?” You nod. “Sorta but I didn’t wipe it completely clean, I mean, it’s a household butcher knife. Both his and my fingerprints are all over it. But I do remember a text coming up on his phone, three to be exact.”

“And what did the messages say?”

You tapped your chin, trying to think and remember what it said. “The first one was from some woman which I’m not even surprised. And I just assumed the other two were from clients. Wait, I think I took a photo of it on my phone because his messages are through some app that secretly deletes your messages after you view them.” You scrolled through your photos until you found it handing it to him. “Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get away with this?” You looked him in the eyes. “What’re you talking about?”

“Pinning the murder on someone else.”