BIANCA.

The digital clock on the nightstand blinked 2:37 a.m. in dull red numbers. Just a few hours earlier the arena had been deafening with the mix of crowds shouting, cameras flashing, the thud of gloves echoing beneath the bright lights. Now the hallway outside the hotel room was silent.

Anthony pushed the door open with a tired shoulder, stepping inside and dropping his duffle bag beside the wall with a heavy thud. The adrenaline from the fight still buzzed faintly in his veins, but exhaustion was already creeping in behind it.

Amina followed him in a moment later, kicking off her heels and letting out a long breath. “Remind me again,” she said, rubbing her temples, “why your fights always end this late.”

Anthony chuckled to himself, a slight bounce in his shoulders with his laugh. He tossed the keys onto the dresser, “‘Cause I got it like that, love.”

Playfully rolling her eyes at his response, Amina dropped her purse onto the bed followed by the V.I.P pass that had been draped around her neck half the night. After the fight, Anthony had been occupied with interviews, meeting and greeting fans, and taking pictures. Of course, he made sure Amina stayed by his side through it all.

Now, they could finally unwind without a lens being shoved in their faces.

Unhooking her bracelet, Amina made her way into the hotel bathroom to get prepped for the night. Anthony followed close behind unhooking jewelry of his own, sliding his AP watch off of his wrist before setting it gently on the bathroom counter. “Sorry about earlier, Mina. I know it was a lot going on.”

Yawning, Amina shook her head dismissively before waving him off. “It’s alright,” she mumbled tiredly before turning on her heels and swooping her hair to one side of her shoulder. “I’m used to it.”

Anthony was all too familiar with her gesture. The moment she swept her hair over, he stepped up behind her. “Hold on,” he murmured. He maneuvered his large fingers as best he could around the delicate clasp, concentrating as he worked the small hook. After a moment it finally slipped free, the chain falling soft into his palm.

Amina turned to face him with a delicate smile, which he returned as she pinched the necklace from his hand. She reached up, her left hand cupping the back of his head as she lifted up on her tiptoes to peck his lips. He welcomed her act of affection, his lips curling into a smile against hers. “Thank you, baby.”

Lowering herself flat on her feet, Amina’s thumb brushed lightly over the faint red bruise forming beneath Anthony’s eye. “You okay?” Her tone was soft and laced with slight concern. He’d won the fight, sure. But that would never stop her from worrying about her man.

He answered with a small nod, his right hand settling gently on her side. “I’m fine, love. I promise.”

Amina smiled once more, this time a tad bigger. Though she knew there was always something aching after a fight, she decided not to push.

Taking the hand that still held the necklace, Anthony pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her palm before rubbing over that same spot with his thumb. “I never got a chance to ask you if you enjoyed the fight. Did you?”

“Only the part where you won,” Amina giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She hunched her shoulder slightly from the tickle of his beard brushing against her skin as he kissed the crook of her neck. “The rest had me stressed out. But I enjoyed it.”

Anthony hummed, bending slightly so she could keep a comfortable hold on him. Amina wasn’t a short woman by any means. Standing five-foot-nine, she was what this generation would call a Stallion. Long legs, a pretty face, and the curves to match. But even then, she was still dwarfed by Anthony’s six-foot-six frame.

“And the knockout?”, he asked, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ve never felt a rush like that in my life,” Amina admitted with a grin, her thumb brushing softly against the nape of his neck.

At that, Anthony leaned in for another kiss. Though this time firmer and slower. “Eh, I think I could compete with that.”

Amina raised an eyebrow at his innuendo, “Oh? Knockout got us feeling a lil’ confident, don’t it?”

“Ah, come on. Don’t act like I don’t put it down every time,” Anthony’s arms snaked around her waist before pulling her in closer. “Besides, I think it’s time we have our own celebration.”

Amina’s eyes followed Anthony’s until they eventually landed on the shower, which was shielded by spotless glass. But knowing them, that glass would be smudged in no time.

The shower roared to life, and within seconds steam filled the bathroom. Anthony and Amina, both stripped bare and exposed kissed each other hungrily, their tongues wrestling one another for dominance. Amina should’ve known she would lose that fight, as she did with literally any other fight when it came to sex with Anthony.

Arms wrapped firm around his neck, Amina allowed Anthony to back her into the shower until they stepped under the spray, the water striking their shoulders in hot, steady bursts. It slid down their spines and pooled at their feet before spiraling toward the drain. The mirror had already vanished behind a film of fog, the air thick with the scent of lust. She pulled away from him just for a second, noting how the glint in his eye had turned from one of admiration to hunger, ready to take her down right here and right now.

Anthony wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him before smashing his lips back into hers. Their moans and groans mixed together, being music to both of their ears. Anthony’s hands began to roam, his calloused palms ending up gripping the flesh of her ass. The two separated again, Anthony pulling away this time as he reached up behind Amina and grabbed a handful of her curly hair. He pulled her head back, her unmarked neck now exposed to her starving husband who wasted no time changing that.

Her lips were parted, moist from their kissing as Anthony licked at any part of her neck he could reach. The tickle of his beard didn’t mean shit now. It was go time.

Amina moaned into his ear at the feel of his lips which only seemed to motivate him more. “Anthony…”, she whispered sweetly, the pad of her thumb stroking the back of his head. “I-I can’t cover that.”

“Then don’t.”

She should’ve known he wouldn’t give a fuck. He never did. He loved when people saw the marks he left on her. It was just an indication that she was taken and no bum ass man big or small should try his luck.

Anthony turned Amina around, his hand snaking around her chest before tracing down the length of her torso with his finger tips. Eventually, his middle and ring fingers had found her opening, dipping in ever so slightly to gather her wetness before spreading the slippery substance around her swollen clit. Amina hummed in satisfaction, reaching back so the tip of her nails could graze his neck.

“Tell me what you want,” Anthony whispered in her ear, his lips grazing her earlobe.

Amina’s knees could’ve gave out right there. His voice whispering in her ear with that damn accent was enough to get her going, the juices leaking from her opening in response being a clear indication of that. Her back arched slightly, the curve of her ass meeting his rock hard length. She winded her hips, the friction between them causing Anthony to let out a deep moan.

“I want you to have your way with me,” Amina whispered, her tone sensual and welcoming. “Do whatever you want to me. Make me your celebration.”

Anthony listened with a keen ear. Have his way, huh? Make her his celebration? You damn right he would.

“Fuck me, Anthony.”

Those were Amina’s final words before Anthony walked her forward until her hands hit the cold shower wall. He reached down and gripped his phallus, pumping himself twice before positioning himself at her opening. Amina licked her lips in anticipation, impatiently waiting as Anthony thrusted his hips just enough to make his tip rub against her slit.

“Anthony,” Amina whined, almost begging. “Come on…”

Chuckling at her neediness, Anthony’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before speaking. “Put it in.”

Amina looked over her shoulder, her curls flowing with her movements as her needy brown eyes met Anthony’s. His eyes held a challenge. Like he dared her to disobey him, or even to obey him. It didn’t really matter which path she chose, he was gonna have his way with her either way. She decide to go with the latter. Tonight was a big night for him, so she wouldn’t be a brat this time.

She reached behind her, feeling around until her dainty fingers wrapped around his pulsing shaft. She could already feel his tip sticky with pre-ejaculation, courtesy of her earlier grinding. But poor Amina just didn’t know what she was really getting herself into. She once again lined him up with her entrance, opting to not move her hand until he was in there, snug and fit.

Anthony pushed his hips forward, the movement sending his length sliding into Amina’s slick entrance. She gasped, back arching and eyes rolling shut as the hand that guided his shaft inside of her moved to his lower abdomen. She didn’t push. Just sat it there in case it became too much too early. Anthony was patient for the first few thrusts and allowed her to get used to his size, now it was time for that hand to go.

“Move it,” he commanded, his left hand gripping her hip while his right hand lay astray, waiting to move her hand for her if need be. Amina listened, pulling her hand away to rest on the wall while Anthony moved his right hand to grip her unoccupied hip.

He moved in teasingly slow, dragging strokes, pushing and pulling every throbbing vein lining his shaft through her walls. His groans were low and sensual, body hot against Amina’s as his hips met her backside with every other stroke. Amina was nearly going mad, her walls closing tight around his length to suck him back in every time he pulled away.

Her back arched as she tried to get herself to a position where she could feel more of him even though she was already feeling all of him. That was what she loved about sex with Anthony. Even when she was getting it all, he left her still wanting more. He was intoxicating.

“Be patient, love…”, Anthony murmured, his eyes fixed on the way her arousal coated him, already seeing hints of white gathering at the base of his length.

Amina hummed once more, not necessarily in response to him or for any reason in particular. Her lips parted, a moan escaping through the opening before she muttered a faint, “More.”

“More?” His voice held a teasing tone, as did his hips continue to hold their teasingly slow pace. Amina didn’t care. She just wanted what she was asking for, so she nodded. “Yeah? You want more?”

Again, Amina nods her head, anxiously chewing her bottom lip in anticipation for what she knows is coming next. And just as she thought, Anthony’s fingers wrapped tighter around her hips as his own hips began to move faster. Not too fast, but fast enough to make Amina’s mouth fall open. “Like that?”

Unable to find words, Amina nods her head yet again, only this time there was some speed to it. She manages to ramble a yeah while simultaneously trying to keep herself from drifting into a whole new world.

“Yeah?” Anthony cooed, his bottom lip curling inward to rest between his teeth.

“Yesss,” Amina whined as her cheek pressed against the wall and her eyes fluttered shut, her tongue slowly protruding from her mouth to wet her lips. “Just like that, baby.”

At her approval, Anthony kept the new pace, his strokes long and deep. Amina’s sweet moans were music to his ears as he dug into her from behind, his bottom lip sitting content under his top row of pearly whites as he tilted his head to get a better view of her face. Her face pressed harder against the wall with each thrust of his hips while her eyes remained closed. Whenever she tried to open them, they’d just roll to a close again. The steam in the bathroom caused her hair to become puffy at the roots, which he knew he’d get fussed at for later.

Well, nobody told you to get in there with no hair protection. He could already hear himself saying it. He’d keep it himself for now.

Anthony couldn’t help the cocky grin forming on his lips at her current state, but still, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. It was times like these where he wished Amina would allow him to record their sessions. The problem was, she was deathly afraid of their tape getting out and her coochie being on display for the whole world to see. No matter how many times Anthony tried to convince her, the answer always had something to do with that.

Shaking his head at the thought, Anthony reached forward and wrapped his hand around her throat. His hand sat high, pulling Amina’s face away from the wall and pulling her head back toward him. Her next few breaths came out rugged and her moans came out choked as Anthony applied pressure to the sides of her throat.

Amina opened her glossy eyes, bottom lip between her teeth as she locked eyes with a towering Anthony whose gaze was already locked on her. “Open.”

Dazed and dick drunk, Amina absentmindedly opened her mouth and watched with a lustful eye as Anthony let his saliva drip from his mouth into hers. He stood back to his full height, his lip finding its way back between his teeth for a brief moment, “Swallow.”

Anthony’s commands were short, but they sure held power when he and that big ass dick worked together. Amina did what she was told, swallowing what she was given before sticking her tongue out to show that everything was gone. With a nod of his head, Anthony lowered himself to her lips, his tongue immediately colliding with hers in the midst of their lip lock.

Oh yeah, you didn’t know? Anthony was nasty.

Amina moaned into his mouth, her thighs beginning to shake under his weight. When she stopped kissing back, Anthony pulled away to see her mouth hanging ajar and her eyebrows furrowing while her moans started to become louder. He knew what that meant.

“Oooh shit! Right there, AJ! Just like that, baby!” Amina cried while her eyes squeezed shut as her hands closed around nothing on the wall.

Since it was her world and he was just living in it, he followed her orders and kept his stroke in the exact same spot at the exact same pace. “Right there?” He pushed his hips deeper to hit that spot just a tad harder.

Amina whined, the arch in her back deepening as his tip came in contact with her spot, “Yesss, oh my god!”

Anthony removed his hand from her neck to her curly tresses, gathering it all in his palm before pulling her head back once more. He could feel the warm water running down his back, his muscles flexing with every thrust and pull of her hair.

Amina’s breath came out in pants and her mouth hung ajar as her eyes rolled back in her head. She tried to say something, to warn Anthony of what was coming. But there was no use. Her words were incoherent and slurred, overpowered by her whines and moans.

She didn’t need to tell him though. He could feel it. “I feel it, baby. Let it go.”

Her nails scratched against the wall and her sounds turned into full on pornstar moans as Anthony lowered himself to her ear, whispering some of the nastiest shit she’d ever heard in her life. Her eyes squeezed shut and her walls contracted around him as he groaned in her ear before running his tongue along her earlobe.

Amina went silent as her orgasm strengthened, Anthony’s teeth gently latching onto her earlobe contributing to that.

After about ten seconds of silence, Amina finally caught her breath. Anthony never slowed, his strokes remaining at the same pace they were before. He kept a vice grip on her hair as he stood to his full height, using his free hand to strike her ass cheek.

Squealing at the impact, Amina quickly became overwhelmed as she felt herself be pushed into overstimulation. She whined his name as her hand moved back to his lower abdomen, only this time, she put some force behind it.

“Don’t play with me, Amina. Move that shit,” Anthony warned, his hips fighting back against her weak pushes.

It’s not like her attempts at pushing him away were doing anything, but the simple fact that she was trying to pissed him off. It was his night. She said he could have his way with her, so that’s what he was going to do.

Even with his warning, Amina couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand away. So Anthony moved it for her.

He pushed it away from his pelvis before grabbing her forearm and pinning it to her lower back. And just for her going against her word, he let go of her hair and reached out to grab her other arm, pinning that one behind her back as well.

“Anthony,” she whined, her face pathetically pressing against the shower wall with each thrust. That seemed to be the only thing she could say.

“What?”

Amina squealed once again as his tip kissed her spot, her legs growing weaker and weaker by the minute. “W-waittt…”, she cried as she slightly came up on her tiptoes, doing anything she could to get away from Anthony.

Her nails clawed at his forearms, a nonverbal gesture begging to be released from his grip. She took a step forward, and Anthony followed. She took another step, and so did Anthony. Eventually, she was standing nearly completely straight, her breast pressed against the shower wall. Still, she couldn’t get away from him.

Amina’s thighs trembled under the pressure, her head falling back on Anthony’s chest. He kept both of her arms pinned behind her with one hand while the other crept up and gripped her neck. She mewled with yet another whine of his name, only this time, she got a sweeter response.

Anthony hummed, his lips kissing around that sweet spot behind her ear. “What’s wrong, love?”

The stimulation of another one of her spots had another orgasm running its course in no time. Amina’s nails dug into his forearm, eyes doing yet another roll inward as her body seized against Anthony’s. He held her close, stroking and talking her through it as her moans turned into cries.

Curses spilled from her lips and her eyes squeezed shut while she trembled, her hand rapidly tapping Anthony’s forearm in attempt to get him to ease up. “Ah, really? You’re tapping out on me?”

Anthony held a sly smirk, his eyes fixed on her face as he watched a stray tear roll down her cheek. Amina shook her head, mustering up the strength to hum a no. Mama didn’t raise no bitch. She just needed a little break.

Finally deciding she’d had enough, he gave her a few more strokes before pulling out of her completely, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her from falling as her legs gave out.

Amina sighed, her body relaxing against her husband's as she caught her breath.

'You did so good for me, 'Mina." Anthony had a hand resting on her stomach, thumb caressing her lower abdomen as he kissed the side of her face and neck. Amina licked her parched lips, a weak smile painting her face at the tickle of his kisses to her skin. "I love you."

Amina hummed, not having the energy to give a verbal reply. Hands traveling up to cup her breasts, Anthony took a step closer to her, pressing his still aroused length against her ass. "You know I'm not done with you, right?"

Amina couldn't say she was shocked. Marrying a boxer came with dealing with his boxer stamina. Anthony had always been a long-winded lover. Sometimes too damn long. There had been nights when Amina literally had to force her damn legs closed because Anthony's ass wouldn't get off of her.

"Do I get a break?" Amina mumbled weakly, her hands coming up to rest on his as his teeth sank lightly into her neck.

"Nope."

Wasting no more time, Anthony spun Amina in his arms and lifted her like she weighed nothing. She wrapped her legs around his waist as their lips connected in perfect sync, their tongues colliding in perfect harmony. This time, there was no fight. Amina fell straight into submission, her arms wrapping around his neck to ensure her security as he began to take steps towards the bench in the far corner of the shower.

In just a few strides, he was there, and without disconnecting their lips, Anthony took a seat with Amina in his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up slightly while his other hand reached beneath them. Amina could feel the tip of his shaft throbbing against her opening as he lined himself up at her entrance, moaning into his mouth as she sank down onto his length.

"Fuck," Anthony groaned, watching as Amina's head fell back in bliss. His eyebrows furrowed as his length became engulfed in her wetness and warmth in a new position. He gripped her hips tightly, using his strength to lift and lower her onto his shaft. "Just like that 'Mina."

Amina couldn't explain how she was feeling right now. There was something about her being on top; her and Anthony being in a position in which she could take full control. Yet, Anthony still found a way to be in charge. There was something about being handled the way he handled her. So rough, yet so gentle. He would always blur the lines of love and hate, leaving Amina wondering how he truly felt about her in the moment.

"Babyyy," Amina moaned aloud, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth hung ajar. "F-fuck, you're so biggg!"

Anthony's hand reclaimed its rightful place on her exposed neck, yanking her forward before smashing his lips into hers as his free hand kept her hips moving. Amina, overcome by pleasure struggled to kiss Anthony back as her breath was taken away by the pressure he put on the sides of her throat.

He pulled away, his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched Amina fall deeper into submission under his touch. “Look at me.”

Amina peeled her eyes open, though barely because of the sensations she felt beneath her. Damn, he felt good. “Can I still make you my celebration, love?

Had Amina not been feeling the way she was feeling right now, she would have looked at Anthony like he’d lost his damn mind. Ain’t this the celebration? What the fuck was he feelin’ like?

Despite her subconscious thoughts, Amina nodded her head as her bottom lip found its way between her teeth. Anthony smirked, his thumb brushing the crook of her neck.

The day started off great, just as any other day would. You woke up to an empty bed, which was normal considering you were married to a damn lark. Terry always rose before the sun for whatever reason, but that never stopped you from getting your full eight hours worth of beauty rest.

You’d entered the kitchen to see your usual morning sight: Terry, shirtless and sweaty after his morning run. Though you tried to keep your footsteps soft, Terry and his super marine hearing sensed you coming from a mile away. He peered over his shoulder with his cloudy green eyes and flashed a rarely seen smile— well, rare to everyone but you— before scooping up the fresh cup of coffee he’d always have ready for you whenever you decide to grace the world with your presence.

Silently reminding yourself that it was too damn early to be horny, you kept your eyes above the neckline and accepted your cup of joe and one of many morning kisses. You spent the next ten minutes of leisure time as you normally did: Smiling at the sweet and expected gesture, giggling at the compliments and complimentary kisses that came along with your coffee, and squealing when Terry’s hands would roam and squeeze at some of his favorite parts of your body.

You’d left home some time later with a smile on your face as Terry always made sure you did, but just when you thought the exceptional morning meant your day would be perfect, here came your fucking boss.

Rude, loud, and disrespectful. Commanding and demanding the most ridiculous things as soon as the damn office opened. You’d always tried your best to stay respectful and hold your tongue when came at crazy, and today was no different. You’d just constantly remind yourself that this was your boss, and as much as you couldn’t stand her ass, you still loved your job and didn’t want to risk losing it over a boss doing what bosses do.

Then came your coworker Sandra, who also happens to be the bosses daughter. Rude and entitled much like her mother, Sandra always knew how to push just about everyone in the offices buttons, but for some odd reason yours were her favorite to push. You’d trained yourself not to give her the reaction she so desperately tried to get from you, but that still didn’t mean she didn’t get under your skin from time to time.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, Sandra and her mother had worked together to make today the day from hell. Two caseloads, another cup of coffee, and three near blowups later, you’d finally made it back home. The smile you once had on your face when you left was long and gone when you returned, and Terry noticed immediately. From his spot on the couch, he watched you toss your keys onto the kitchen counter and kick your shoes off much harder than necessary. Though your shoulders should’ve relaxed after the long breath you released, they remained tight and tense, telling Terry more than he knew you probably would.

You tended to shut down when frustrated, a bad habit that Terry had both picked up on and learned to remain patient with. However, knowing this wouldn’t stop him from coaxing as much information as he could out of you.

Terry pushed himself up from his seated position and began his path toward you. His long legs got him there in milliseconds, standing tall and protective in front of you. The crisp new wife beater he wore clung to his torso like you did when you would hug him and the dark grey sweats he wore hung low on his hips just how you liked it. His unintentional sexiness almost made you forget why you were mad. Almost.

He remained silent for a moment, watching intently as you looked everywhere but at him. Then, his left hand raised to your hip giving it a double tap with his index and middle fingers. You took that nonverbal command for what it was and finally looked up at him, his stormy eyes already meeting yours halfway.

For a second he still said nothing. He just stood still and examined your expression as much as you’d allow him to. The slight pout on your lips and semi-wet eyes told him enough, prompting him to finally speak.

“Talk to me.”

The words were simple, but when you have a day like you just had, it’s enough to damn near cause a break down. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying and lowered your head, shaking it just enough for the gesture to be noticeable.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

But you should’ve known that wouldn’t be good enough for him. You did know it wasn’t good enough for him. That’s why it was no shock when his hand came to cup your chin and gently forced your head up to meet his gaze again. There was silence once again from him as he scanned your face for another read. This time your mood was clear. Your face held a plethora of emotions. Frustration, anger, and a hint of sadness all at once.

“You’re not upset for nothing, Peach.”

The patience he had with you was evident in both his tone and the use of your pet name. He’d given it to you when the two of you had just began dating many years ago. He said the name reflected your personality and common mood. As sweet as could be. An alternative meaning for that nickname came a bit later in the relationship when the two of you had been intimate for the first time. He said the chosen name was perfect because you in the bedroom mirrored a Peach perfectly: sweet, sticky, thick, and pretty. But that was beside the point. The fact of the matter was that right now, your mood was anything but sweet.

A sigh slipped past your lips as you once again averted your gaze from his, afraid that he’d read too deep into you and cause you to break down in the middle of the living room. “It’s just work, T,” you muttered a tad bit lower than before. “Nothing serious.”

“I think it is serious if it’s got you this upset,” Terry argued. Not in an ill intended way. Just in a way that let you know he wasn’t buying the watered down story you were selling. Hand still cupping your chin, Terry nudged upward just a tad bit higher in an attempt to get your attention back on him. “Look at me.”

You reluctantly obliged and once again locked eyes with Terry, only this time, there was no reading. He’d already put it together. “Your boss?”

Just the mention of that bitch had you fighting the urge to roll your eyes, but to answer your husband’s question, you nodded.

“She frustratin’ you again?”

You mimicked your earlier action once more, nodding as you again bit down on your cheek. “Yeah, Sandra, too.”

Though your voice was barely above a whisper, Terry heard you loud and clear. He kept his stance just a few moments more before relaxing, his hands falling unoccupied at his side before they snaked around your waist. His thumb rubbed soothing circles around your lower back in an effort to get you to relax even a bit. Yeah sure, your boss and her gnat of a daughter pissed you off today. But you were home now, with him.

“You gotta stop doing that, Peach,” Terry murmured, arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulled you closer.

Now chest to chest, your dainty hands came to rest on his biceps. “Doing what?”

“Shutting down,” he elaborated, index finger drumming your hip. “You always shut down when you’re upset and you leave me out the mix. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s goin’ on.”

You nodded in response, head lowering in shame. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Mm-mm, don’t do that,” Terry hummed, immediately following up with a kiss to your forehead, then one to your cheek, then one to your jawline, then multiple to your neck as you giggled lowly. “I’m not mad at you, baby. I just want you to be happy. And I want you to be comfortable telling me when something is botherin’ you. Even if it’s not me, alright?”

With a nod and a muttered agreement, you took the time to appreciate Terry’s effort at getting you to open up. Although you appreciated it, that still didn’t remove the effects of today’s ware and tear from your body. You were still frustrated. Still annoyed. Still tense. But that wasn’t a problem for Terry. All he needed you to do was tell him what was bothering you. He was down to handle the rest.

And that’s what got you to where you are now.

Bare and hot on top of him, knees working overtime to keep you upright as you bounced up and down at the same breathtaking pace. Not too idle. Not too brisk. It was somewhere perfectly in between. Terry watched comfortably beneath you, hands folded and tucked behind his head as he remained still, careful not to disturb your rhythm.

Your bottom lip had to be tired of you biting it, but that seemed to be the only way you could keep your sounds under control and keep the two of you from receiving a noise complaint in a few hours time. Your hands assisted in keeping you steady with their resting spot being on Terry’s abdomen, fingers dragging through the creases of his abs when you felt them flex under the pressure of you repeatedly landing in his lap.

Tongue darting out to moisten your parched lips, you let a whine slip past the barrier you’d tried your hardest to build. “Terryyy…”

He looked up at you, expression stoic and emotionless besides the lust clouding his already piercing eyes. “What you callin’ me for? You doin’ that shit to yourself.”

Brows furrowed and mouth hanging ajar, you looked down to where the two of you connected. You watched your fluids pile up at the base of his phallus in near disbelief. Almost as though you couldn’t believe what you were making yourself do. Like him saying it out loud was what made you realize it. Even still, it was partly his fault. Nobody told him to have all that dick.

Another sound slipped past your lips, this time resembling more of a squeal as the angle of your hips made it nearly impossible for his throbbing tip to miss your spot. “Fuuuckkk!”, you slurred through a moan, head falling backward and eyes rolling to a close.

“Mhm, there you go,” Terry cooed while simultaneously reaching out to you, hand wrapping snug around your throat. “Keep that shit movin’. Just like that.”

The sudden air restriction caused you to gasp, hand coming up to wrap around Terry’s wrist. The grip you had on his hand matched the grip you had on his dick, your walls contracting around his girth at the depth of his voice and commands. There was something about the two of you being in a position where you had the opportunity to be in full control, yet Terry still finding a way to be in charge. Your body’s response to his commands showed exactly how you felt about them, your walls gushing with arousal.

Your internal temperature grew hotter with every passing minute, the aching in your legs contributing to your thermal increase. But unfortunately, that wasn’t stopping shit. You were gonna get your nut even if it meant riding this Harley until your legs gave clean out. Well, your third nut. Terry had already coaxed two out of you with that talented mouth of his, eating away half the frustration you’d returned home with. He left it up to you to ride out the rest.

“Fuck…why you so wet, Peach?” Fingers tightening around your throat, Terry bit down on his bottom lip as his free hand came up to strike your ass cheek. “Hm?”

There were so many answers to that question. Maybe because you had a fine ass man beneath you letting you use him for your pleasure with no consequences. Or maybe it was because you had a big ass dick invading the deepest part of you, pulsing and throbbing against your wetness to cause almost euphoric sensations. Or maybe it was just because you were in love. It didn’t matter which response was most fitting, because you couldn’t even muster up the strength to give him one.

Instead you peeled your eyes open, gaze immediately connecting with his. The two of you watched each other through different eyes: yours soft and submissive, his hard and dominant. “You so fuckin’ pretty.”

You moaned in response, stomach swarming with butterflies at him somehow always knowing what to say and when to say it. Eyes fluttering shut, your head had almost fallen back again before Terry’s hand moved to cup your jaw. “Mm-mm, keep them eyes on me.”

You obliged, eyes opening to find his. You watched as his lip found its way between his teeth again, his thumb stroking your cheek as soft as could be. Then the pad of his thumb found its way to your bottom lip, rubbing across it a few times. “Open…”

Following instructions with a submissive moan, your semi-parted lips opened wider to allow his thumb entry, and you made sure to give it a warm welcome with your tongue and lips. A slick thrust from below had your teeth nearly sinking into the flesh, but you’d managed to hold back before continuing to suck on his thumb.

“So beautiful…”, Terry muttered, watching as your eyes rolled to a close and you moaned around his thumb, the throbbing of his phallus causing your stomach muscles to tighten. “and so fuckin’ nasty.”

How could he say that when he was the one who made you this way? You can confidently say you had never been this nasty until you got with Terry. This motherfucker had you doing shit you would’ve never even thought to do with anyone else, but you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said you didn’t love it.

He pulled his thumb away and you released it with a ‘pop’, then watched with doe eyes as he used that same saliva covered thumb to rub your clit in slow, sloppy circles. But you were the nasty one? Yeah, okay.

The new sensation caused a buck in your hips, a sound of louder pitch escaping your lips as your eyes did yet another roll inward. “Babyyy…s-shit!”, you whined as you tried to keep your pace through the tightening of your walls and flexing of your stomach muscles. The sensation omitted a groan from Terry, but nothing more than that as he kept his eyes trained on you.

It’s not that he wasn’t feeling good, because he damn sure was. It was just the fact that tonight was your night. Y’all could worry about him later. Right now, it was all about you.

“You look so good up there, Peach. You don’t even understand,” he cooed, tongue slowly protruding to wet his lips as he watched you slowly but surely unravel.

You’d call him a damn lie if you weren’t in your current position. You could just feel that you looked a mess. Hair puffy and wild, lips parched and dry, skin hot and tacky. Terry didn’t give a fuck. “Them hips, them thighs, your face…”, he murmured, the rotation of his thumb staying constant. “Can’t even keep your fuckin’ eyes open. I got you feelin’ good, huh, baby?”

“Yesss, oh my god!”, you squealed, head lolling back as your toes began to curl against the mattress.

Hissing at your sudden tighter grip, Terry’s brows furrowed a tad deeper. “Why you grippin’ me like that? Hm?” You knew the answer, and so did he. But your almost non-coherent words made it hard to give him one. “You finna cum? Is that what it is?”

You nodded frantically, the pace of your bounces starting to increase. “You gon’ cum for me, mama? You gon’ show me how wet you can get for me?”

“Y-yesss, fuck! I’m gon’ cum for you, daddy!”, you moaned, toes curling tighter as you grabbed his free hand and interlocked your fingers. The speed of his thumb started to increase to match the pace of your bounces, your sounds now being full on pornstar moans.

“Chase that shit then, Peach. Show me how wet this pretty pussy can get for me.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice because you already felt it coming. Nails clawing at his chest, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung ajar as your walls closed as tight as they could. The groans omitted from him only assisted with your heavenly climax, thighs trembling as you tried your hardest not to wake the neighbors, though both you and Terry were sure you had probably already done that.

“There you go. Get what you need, pretty girl,” Terry cooed, thumb still rotating on your sensitive center even though your bouncing had come to a steady halt. “Let that shit out.”

Chest heavy with pants, you absentmindedly wound your hips against his thumb, riding out your high to its highest potential. When you were done, you and your throbbing center had had enough. Your hand had quickly found Terry’s, grabbing hold of his wrist. “Mm, fuck, okay…I’m tapped out,” you huffed through short breaths, pushing his thumb away from your now sore pleasure point.

You lifted yourself off of his length with a wince before collapsing back onto his chest. “You good?”

Fuck no you weren’t good. Your body may as well been filled with noodles. Your legs and back were as good as gone, and don’t even get started on your knees. “Don’t even think about touching me for the next two weeks.”