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A/N: Enough heavy angst and smut, come get some fluff and get emotional yall!
It's Smoke and Annie young/puppy love meet cute!
It is a long fic tho because this fic was originally intended just for Ao3 but! I feel like sharing it here due to some of my mutuals: shout out @spaceshipsandpurpledrank @cherrynews @soufcakmistress I wanted to add that I quite literally pulled from stories of my granny childhood as the daughter of a corn sharecropper in the 1920's in rural Oklahoma as reference for things. RIP&L to Ethel💜🕊️.
Trigger Warning: Child abuse, Dog attack
In need of medical help after dealing with their father. Mary leads the teenage SmokeStack twins to a special friend of hers. Smoke finds out there Angels just may be real and can get him high. Annie may have to admit that Mary was right, that the quiet twin is quite charming and is quite cute.
Part Two Part Three Part Four
Elijah never had a reason to believe in anything that wasn’t his brother or his own two hands. Angels took his mama before he could even meet her. The spirit of his great-great-whatever never gave him food when his belly ached or a hat to keep the sun out his face. The devil never offered him a glass of cold water on a hot day and God’s hands never stopped his daddy’s from beating him and his brother.
What the fuck did Elijah need faith for?
All Elijah ever needed was his brother and Smoke.
That’s all he needed, neither a preacher’s sermons or card reading could tell him different.
Smoke is 16 years old and huffs with every step. He takes deep and deliberate breaths that are shoved out between his teeth with every barefoot stomp over the Mississippi dirt. Stack groans every now and then when Smoke’s steps falter from his own weariness on the uneven ground and Stack’s bleeding head is jostled in the walk. They come to Monroe’s backyard but before they can go for the house, a 15 year old Mary bursts out the backdoor with her hands frantically waving for them to back into the treeline.
“Mary?!” Smoke hisses tightly through a wince, speaking painfully stretches his swelling cheek. Mary startles as Smoke spits out blood from his busted lip between their feet.
“Ya’ll pa, here!” Mary informs him. She gently tries to coax the oldest of them to set his brother down but Smoke shakes his head, tightening his grip on Stack’s legs.
“Stack needs help. Daddy kicked him all in his chest and down the steps. He landed on his face and ain’t get back up.”
“Shit…” Mary pauses to brush dirt off the side of Stack’s face. She frowns in thought, they all tense when Big Eli’s voice booms from Mary’s front porch. Ms. Monroe hollers for Mary and the pale girl bites her lip in thought. Her mama hollers again and Mary snaps her fingers in realization.
“I got it! Lets go Miss. Greenwood’s!”
“The VooDoo lady? Hell nah, someone gonna see and they gonna tell Unc Jeb, then he gonna tell Big Eli!”
“She is a medicine woman and she can do stitches and she lives far out! And is she ain’t there, we got Annie!
“Who the Hell is Annie?”
“Her granddaughter! Don’t worry she’s just as good too! Now C’mon before they get nosy ‘bout me.” Mary argues, waving Smoke to follow behind her.
Mary leads them back down the hill and through the thicket to one of the less traveled dirt roads. It was easy to follow the pale of Mary’s waving hands and worried chatter in the coming night as the sun sank further down until the sky was barely purple-blue, fireflies blink ahead of them as cicadas rattle echo through the air.
Almost loud enough to drown out as Stack’s moans turn into wheeze-y and laborious pants.
Almost.
Smoke looks at Stack’s watch from his brother’s limp arm and huffs to find they had been walking for nearly 40 minutes. Mary is a speck of moon beam in front of them, like a worried lighting bug.
“Just gotta turn down the slope.” Mary says over her shoulder.
Finally, they arrive at the shack cabin of Miss. Greenwood and Mary rattled the door with frantic knocks. Smoke had caught glimpses of the old woman every now and then but really only knew rumors about her. She had moved back home to Clarksdale just two years ago after her daughter died in Baton Rouge from consumption. If Smoke was being honest, he was scared to go to her for help.
But, he was scared of his brother dying more.
Fuck, he only had a few baker nickles on him. Nothing for the butcher, the pharmacy or the grocer. No way could he pay any kinda price for the care his brother may need.
The door swings open and instead of the round old woman with white colored plaits and a blind eye…. Elijah is pretty sure this is an actual angel. Through the beaded curtain that acts as a screen dorm is a girl.
It was a girl his and Stack’s age, holding a kerosene lantern high so she could see them all in the coming night. Elijah can’t help but notice how her rich skin reflects back both the sliver of the early moonlight and the gold of the cloudy lantern. The girl is plump and soft looking, her hair in two puffs on the side with a cornrow front, her face full of apprehensive concern and her eyes….
Those coffee coals of hers stare deeply into Elijah’s eyes, like she’s reading his soul for a moment.
“Annie! Is ya meemaw in? My friends need some help, bad.” Mary says as she points her thumb at the bloody twins. Annie finally turns her eyes to Mary and shakes her head with a sorry pout on her thick lips.
“Granny’s over at Pleasant, helpin’ deliver a baby. Whatchu need, what’s happening?”
“My brother’s hurt. Got beat and didn’t get up.” Smoke speaks up gruffly. He tenses a bit when Annie comes off her porch stairs with silent and strong steps. Once close to them, enough that Smoke gets a whiff of citrus and herbs off her, she examines Smoke. Annie’s fingers barely graze the swell of Smoke’s check before he winces back, making her finger tips brush the tender flesh of his busted lip instead.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, my brother!” Smoke insists with begging eyes. Annie nods, putting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before addressing Stack. Annie turns his head towards her and mutters in Yoruba under her breath at the sight of him. Annie steps closer and places her head on Stack’s back as her free hand pats on the side of his ribs.
Smoke flinches hard, his hands have to grip into Stack’s jeans so he doesn’t shake as Stack howls in pain. Stack wheezes rattle through Smoke’s body like a ghost shoved through him.
“Ribs and a head rattles forsur’. Bring ‘em in and put ‘em on the bed near the kitchen. Mary-girl go run to the pump and fill me a bucket with some water, then put that on the stove.” Annie instructs them all as she leads Smoke inside. Annie lights four more lanterns while Smoke eases Stack down to the bed and for the first time in nearly two hours Stack says something.
“ ‘Moke?” He rasps.
Smoke swallows thickly, sitting himself besides Stack’s head and grasping his brother’s jittery hand with his own trembling fingers. Smoke’s resolve is the only thing keeping them both steady, he gently shakes his head as he wipes tears and blood off his brother’s face. Smoke is careful of the mass of bruises and swelling that reach all the way from Stack’s forehead, over his right eye and meshes over his nose and upper lip.
“Easy, Stack. Easy, we gotcha some help.” Smoke informs him. Both twins wince as Smoke finds a dirty gash dragged back behind Stack’s ear.
“ Sh- sh- sh’ orry. Got..got…got ta running-g-g my ‘ip.” Stacks stutter as his eyes flutter and roll back in pain. It takes a long moment but he’s able to blink harshly, showing that blood has inked the white of his eye, red.
“Big Eli ain’t shit! Don’t you be sorry, just hold on man.”
“Pa’s j-j-jus-sta….” Stack trails out, closing his eyes instead and letting his head rest to the side as a wave of pain forcing him to breath with fast and shallow pants that barely let his lungs fill with enough air. Stack jerks up as he starts to cough and blood flicks off his busted lips. Smoke swears and holds Stack’s head up until the bout of coughing stops and he can weakly breath again.
“Get his shirt off then help him try and take a full breath. Slow down his breathin’.” Annie instructs as she finally comes over to them. She sets down a big jar of moonshine and a round tin case, she opens it to reveal vials of iodine, an ear trumpet, sewing needles, Cloverline salve, and huge rolls of bandages.
“Water’s starting to bubble!” Mary hollers as she watches the pot of water on the high fire.
“Start counting to 200.” Annie tells as she helps Smoke undress Stack’s upper half.
“Any of his teeth broke? Did he spit out blood?” Annie asks and Smoke creases his brows in thought.
“Nawh, all his teeth was there but I think he bit his tongue bad. His spit was red, he was droolin’ it earlier."
“Shit,” Annie tuts “Liquor’s gonna shock him too much right now. Mary get me that light wood pipe and matches. It’s by that mint hanging to dry out back. You know how to smoke?” Annie asks, not even pausing to see the look of disbelief on Smoke’s face at the question.
Oh… that right… she just met him.
She ain’t something all knowing, of course she doesn't even know his name.
“Yeah.” Smoke nods as Mary hands him the pipe, then the matches and she goes back to her post at the pot. Muttering numbers under her breath, she had just reached the 60’s
“There’s reefer in there. Try not to take it in deep, Just get it puffed up and blow it in his face. That’s all the pain relief I can get ‘em right now. Do it.” Annie commands as she pours a little of the moonshine onto the ear trumpet and wipes it dry with a rag.
Smoke takes a deep pull off the pipe, trying his damndest to keep the smoke in his throat and mouth, but the skunk-like herb creeps further down into his chest. He coughs and lets his fist curl in frustration as the cloud goes above them (tobacco never did this shit!). Smoke takes another hit of the pipe, forcing his lungs to hold steady and quickly blows it out, aimed at Stack’s face.
He takes another hit and blows it out.
Takes another hit and blows it out.
Takes another hit and blows it out.
Before he can drag on the pipe for a sixth time, Annie snatches it from him. Smoke swears he can feel every line of fingerprints on Ainne’s finger tips as they brush his hand. Smoke feels like he’s floating up and down as he watches Annie with her angel fingers wrap some kinda wet herb in a cheese cloth rag and carefully place it in Stack’s mouth, muffling his whimper of pain.
“You bouta green out, boy! I needa ya here, ya hear?” Annie tells Smoke, her words send the older twin crashing back into his body, before he can respond Mary shouts 200. Smoke heard sloshing and the tiny chant of ‘hot, hot, hot, hot’ until the voice echos away and suddenly there is a pot of warm water to the left of him.
Annie softly grabs his wrists and leads Smoke’s hands to hold either side of Stack’s face who had become more docile and settled, his good and open eye a bit glazed with a coming high.
“Do your best to keep him from buckin’. Okay, Sugar?” Annie instructs, Smoke stares at her plush hands on his hands, amazed at how still they were for once. Annie gives a soft chuckle and tips Smoke’s chin up, for him to look into her eyes. He blinks rapidly and tries to clear his daze just to get lost in the dark Mississippi night that is Annie’s eyes.
“Smoke!” Mary tuts, pinching the meat of his arm. Elijah crashes back into his body again and takes his commands with a nodding grunt. Annie lets him go so she can kneel over and put the ear trumpet to Stack’s chest.
“Deep breath, Stack. C’mon.” Mary gently coaxes as she starts to gently wash the blood and dirt off him. Stack does as such with a whimpering wheeze. Annie listens to the other side and grimaces, she tentatively presses on his right side where his ribs are, starting at the bottom and going up. She gets to the eighth rib and they all wince as Stacks jolts and cries out. Smoke and Mary jump in to comfort him while Annie rubs laterally over the bone.
“Weak, not broken.” Annie notes and continues to go up. They jolt again as she finds another spot, she sighs wearily and gives both brothers a sorry look.
“Broken.”
For the next 30 minutes they work in a tense silence save for Stack’s occasional whimper or out cry. On his right, from his seventh to his fourth rib is broken, the rest bruised and his left shoulder is strained.
“Sit him up.”
Smoke does as such, getting behind Stack and pulling him up until he is mostly sat up and supported by Smoke holding his shoulders. Annie feels his back and notes where the backribs were injured.
“Mary wash his back, then wash out his mouth. I gotta get something for the swelling and to numb him.” Annie says while she quickly gets up and busies herself gathering different herbs into a mortar bowl.
Mary moves to wash the dirt off his back and Smoke takes the other rag and coaxes Stack to let him squeeze water in his mouth to swish, then spit. He does it two more times before Stack’s head fatigues and he lets it flop Smoke’s shoulder with a shaky whine.
“Eveything gonna be a’ight bro. I swear it, Eli ain’t shit. You-you just gotta hol’ out. Alright?” Smoke encourages as he forces Stacks head back up and makes him clean his mouth again.
Annie comes back, and finally Stack actually looks at her.
“You?” he puffs and Annie gives a comforting smile as she tips his head back.
“Annie Greenwood at your service, sorry to meet like this. Now can you open your mouth for me, I need you to swallow this.” she says gently and Stack’s swollen lip twitches with mirth.
“Onna fir’ t date?”
Mary breaks out in pitchy chuckles as she shakes her head in disbelief and starts to clean blood off his neck.
“You can’t have Annie, you got me.” Mary teases through the teary eyes and Stack gives a wheeze and twitch of his lip again. His hand clumsily grasps the front of Smoke’s shirt.
“You ca’ get ‘Moke ‘den, Ann.”
“Elias, what the fuck! Open your mouth for that medicine nigga!” Smoke scolds, warmth blooming under his brown. One foot in the grave and his idiot brother is still running his trap.
Annie takes it in stride, barely hiding a chuckle behind her smile and shakes the power of crushed herbs into his mouth before guiding him to take a swallow of warm Valerian root tea. Stack smacks his lip in distaste.
“Grass?” he mumbles and Annie rolls her eyes.
“Tumeric mostly, and some other things. The tea will help numb ya out and let you rest some while I treat you.” Annie explains gently as she guides Smoke to rest his brother back down, Mary slides in and pillows Stack’s head in her lap. Her hand rubbing his temple and muttering coos of comfort to him
“What’s next?” Smoke asks and Annie hums as she sets out more things from her kit.
“Once he's down, imma rub him with the Cloverline, then we’ll wrap up his ribs and hopefully patch up the gashes he got.” Annie tells him. Smoke moves from Stack’s side to kneel next to Annie’s, looking over her shoulder at all the things sat out. He reaches for the jar of Cloverline and Annie stops him by bumping into his shoulder and shaking her head
“Don’t bother right now. Let’s worry about you.” Annie says as she studies his busted lip, swollen cheek and bloody elbow from where their father was able to get a backhand on Smoke and send him to the floor of their porch before kicking Stack down the steps of it.
Smoke shakes his head and goes again but Annie stops him by snatching the jar from him and holding it behind her back. She straightens up her kneel so she can glare in his eye, it makes Smoke blink in surprise.
“You ain’t cleaning up shit if you still got dirty shoes. Take a moment…. Uh.. damn.. What’s yo’ name?” Annie asks, her look of resistance growing bashful at realizing they were never introduced.
Oh Lord, she had some strange (and cute) boy all in her granny’s house and didn’t know his name!
“Smoke.” Annie frowns her brow.
“Ya mama named you Smoke?”
“My mama ain’t name me nothing, my name’s Smoke. Now give me that jar, girl, we gotta get Stack set.” Smoke said, tipping forward to try and snatch the jar back, Annie stretches her arm up and back.
“Call me girl again, and imma call you mule!”
“Girl! Whoa!” Smoke tips forward too far, his equilibrium still thrown from his own exhaustion of the day and fading high from the reefer. Mary gasps as Soke collides forward into Annie then they both go down.
Stack blinks sleepily with a lazy turn of his head and whispers a chuckle at the scene. Mary cringes but keeps messaging his head as he starts to drool on her skirt.
Smoke is staddled over Annie, his eyes widened in awkward surprise with trembling, clumsily placed arms on either side of her shoulders that keep him hovered over her. Annie blinks up at him with just as much surprise as well. Her arm holding the jar still stretched over her head and the other clutches the front of his shirt to further support him from falling on top of her.
They breathe together for a moment, before Annie slowly starts to push up and Smoke follows her lead and leans back off of her. Once they were both up right and steady Smoke swallowed nervously and clutched the bottom of his shirt.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. Annie just nods, too rattled for a retort.
“Uhh… Stack’s sleep.” Mary comments and it snaps Smoke’s attention. Sure enough his brother’s chest was gently rising up and down instead of the painful jolts of earlier. His face slack instead of twisted in pain.
“Damn, you drug him?” Smoke tries to joke and Annie shrugs as she opens the Cloverline jar.
“Of course, I did.”
“Huh?”
“I said of course I did. Dem weak ass puff you blew on him wasn’t gonna numb him out much longer. He ain’t in any pain so he can start to rest and heal.” Annie explained simply, like Smoke just asked her the time.
“Tolda she’s a medicine woman! Last time we had to give Stack my momma’s wine and he was all hungover the next day.” Mary says, she bites her lip in nervousness at the deadpanned glare Smoke sent her at Stack’s snore.
“So all that mojo jojo potions and spells shit work? Gonna need true love’s kiss to wake him up or do he turn into a frog first?” Smoke says, feeling his senses come back to him. Just to lose them a moment later when Annie quickly jabs her knuckles into his side and makes him wheeze. Smoke turns sharply to address her after gathering his breath and gasps to find a gleaming and sharp pair of scissors held at his eye level.
“It’s quiet time for you boy, you wanna a task so you can sit there and think? Unroll that,” Annie dropped the roll of bandage in his lap, her glare and scissors gleam never leaving his eyes, “You-a perfect match, unroll it enough to bind your chest three times and when ya done. Cut.”
Mary tuts and shakes her head as Annie smoothly twirls the scissors on her fingertips so it spun and she could hand the handle to Smoke. The older of them huffed, making sure to glare and flare his nostrils but ultimately got up and walked to the corner to do as Annie commands.
“Okay Mary, you take a handful of this and get his left rubbed down. I’ll take the right and then we’ll roll him and do his back the same way.”
Later that night, Mary lays curled next to Stack on the mattress as he rests finally properly bandaged and stitched by Annie. Smoke sits on the steps of the house holding a cold cloth to his lip while Annie addresses his elbow. He breaths through the little flares of pain focusing on losing himself to the night instead as she cleans and wraps. The glittering stars, the shades of darkness in the moonlight, the cool breeze shifting leaves. Yet….the cicadas and frogs can’t out rattle the sorrow and fear of his thoughts.
“You shakin’.” Annie says softly. There isn’t any pity or sad concern in her tone, she just whispered a fact and it makes Smoke swallow.
“Yeah, I do that. I needa cig.” he tells her just as quietly and she hums.
“I can get ya that in a bit. Let me see your lip.”
Smoke turns to her, handing her the cloth so he can clutch the straps of his overalls to hide the shakes. Annie tips his head toward the lamp light so she can investigate.
“Ain’t nothing but time and something cold healing that lip. Some aloe vera and yarrow mash would work on that cut. Keep ya face pretty.” Annie bites her lips in abruptly at the last comment of hers, her shoulders chasing up to her ears as she feels Smoke smirk under her fingertips.
“Keep me pretty huh?”
“It prevents scarring is all I was tryna say!” she excuses, taking her hands back. She darts her eyes to the stars and Smoke still stares intently at the white of her eyes.
Smoke hums, “Is that gonna cost extra? I only got some bread nickels. Shit… I don’t know how imma pay ya back at all actually.”
“You ain’t gotta worry a-”
“Nah! I owe ya Annie Greenword, I ain’t now bum like Eli. I pay my dues and imma need you to know your worth.” Smoke insists. Annie sighs, closing her eyes. Smoke tilts his head as she says something in the tone of a prayer to the ground. The language from her lips sounds off but familiar, like when his auntie or lil Sammie would slip into tongues on Easter.
“I ain’t know hoodoo people prayed. Doesn’t that make yall mouth hurt? My uncle’s a preacher. He’s always going on about rebukin’ and shit.”
“Prayer is an action anyone can do. My tongue don’t burn anymore than yours when I do it. Unless, you tryna tell me your God be setting yo teeth on fire?” Annie asks back and Smoke scoffs.
“I don’t talk to that nigga and he don’t ever say shit to me. So it’s nuthin’. Don’t need him or Lucy or ghosts.” Smoke tells her, he grips his hands into fist then shakes them out.
“No offense.” he says after their silence became awkward. (Again!)
“So…. What's to believe in then? What makes you go on? Who can ya ask for help?” Annie asks and Smoke cringes as he can now hear pity from her
“My brother I guess…. That imma get back what I put in… I like being able to rest and shit be okay. So… I guess that’s what I believe in, something that’ll make shit okay.”
“That’s something.” Annie whispers.
“Yeah, I guess.”
The both turn from each other and stare into the night, the quiet between them soft, resolved. Stack’s snore resonates behind him and Annie watches as Smoke relaxes another degree, like ice melting.
“So… what I owe you, Annie?” Stacks says to the stars, the words make Annie settle back on her arms.
“What’s your name? Your real name? I’m Antonia.”
“I see…. I’m Elijah.”
“Elijah ...okay… so we’re even now.” Annie smiles, moonlight gleaming off her teeth and Smoke shakes his head with a soft grin of his busted lip.
“Nah we ain’t, but I’ll let it breath.”
---------------------------------
Smoke startles awake the next morning to a goat bleating from the doorway and Stack still snoring in his ear. Mary still sleeps, curled up in a chair diagonally from the two brothers wrapped in a quilt. The goat bleats again and Smoke blinks heavily as Annie shoos the animal on and goes back to her chores of feeding the chickens.
Smoke snorts, wiping at his face as he gets up with a wobble, swearing to himself that the only thing ever going in his lungs again is tobacco and air. He shuffles to the porch and watches Annie for a quiet moment as she shakes out the last of sunflower seed to her chickens.
“Mornin’” Annie greets, back still turned to him as she inspects the wire of the coop.
“Uh, Mornin’.” Smoke cringes as his voice croaks then cracks. Annie’s shoulder hitch with a small hidden chuckle but she continues on with her inspection.
“My Grandma sent word. Said she ain’t gonna be back until this evening so y'all can rest up here for a bit longer.” Annie relays and Smoke hums. He shakes his fingers out as the craving of nicotine makes his lips dry. He pats his pocket and sighs in defeat to find nothing, he’s smoked the pre-roll Stack had made him before dinner the other night. All he had was some tobacco stuffed in an old Murray Pomade tin.
“Uhm… you gotta pipe or something? An empty pipe?”
Smoke finally makes his way down the steps and to Annie’s side. She curses under her breath to find that something had dug and pulled at the wire in the back, leaving it open.
“Yeah I do. Damn, gonna have to run to the Chows sometime today.”
“Oh! I can get some wire for ya, get it fixed. It can be part of my pay for what I owe ya.” Smoke negotiates and Annie chuckles with a shake of her head.
“I told ya, Eljiah! Your debt to me was your name.. Ya paid up, boy.”
“And I told you that ain’t no even! I ain’t a chump who can’t fix no coop, just gotta get a smoke and bite to eat real quick to get going. I’m pals with Bo and can getta deal on some new wire, some burlap too. I'll set a barrier an-” Annie crosses her arms but allows Smoke to ramble on and on about all the things he could fix or improve for her. He trails behind her as she does her chores; Annie wordlessly hands him sticks that had fallen in the yard from the wind.
“Paw musta been awful hungry… he don’t usually hit ma face.” Stack mumbles as Smoke helps him wash and change his bandages while Mary snuck back home to get the brothers some fresh clothes. Stack winces but can’t help to keep poking at the cheek bruise and the underswelling of his black eye. He squints into the piece of mirror that Annie had reluctantly propped up at Stack’s insistence to see himself.
“Big Eli shouldn’t been hitting you at all!” Smoke grumbles as he forces Stack’s hand and arm up so he could start applying the Cloverline.
“He was hungry and I knew better. You know I knew better than to go sneakin’ that big ass piece of chicken. He w-”
“Sush! Pa ain’t done shit but take the guitar down to Pleasantville. That nigga ain’t pick a bag in two weeks, he ain’t caught a fucking fish. He ain’t done nuthin’ but stank and play that raggedy ass guitar.” Smoke says, talking over Stack for once.
“He made rent day tho, an-”
“Stop excusing that nigga!” Smoke ends up barking and the whole room winces.
“Easy.” Annie tuts quietly from where she stirs a pot of grits on the stove.
Both brothers give her matching side glances, then matching sighs of tension. Stack grunts in pain as breathing in so deeply hurts, he forces his breath through his teeth and lets his head fall forward to rest on Smoke’s shoulder in search of relief.
Smoke carefully rubs his brother’s back, “Sorry… it’s getting hot outside,” Smoke mutters and Stack give a shallow nod.
“I know.” He mumbles before sitting back up and letting Smoke finish re-wrapping him in a sad silence. Once done, Smoke helps Stack get up and sit at the small dining table. Annie sets a dish of grits with a side of eggs and half a slice of ham in front of him, Stack smiles gratefully before giving a suspicious squint to the cut of tea she sets next to it.
“Once you finish your food, imma need you to drain that whole cup of tea.” Annie says and Stack hums.
“Will I atleast stay awake long enough for Mary to get back wit’ my clothes?”
“Take ya time eating, Mr. Moore.” Annie tells him with a growing smirk and turns her back.
Smoke shakes his head with a small grin as he takes a seat, Annie sets a dish of grits, ham, and eggs in front of him too.
“Aw shit, you better lock up ya sugar bowl Ann.” Stack warns. Smoke gives an annoyed kiss of his teeth and twitch of his lip at his twin for letting his sweet tooth be announced. Annie shrugs and slides a little jar of sugar onto the table before settling with her own plate.
“I don’t need no sugar for some grits. Stack’s head still rattled.” Smoke insists.
“Not you lyin on me infront of me! Ann let me tell ya, this nigga makes brown rice white wit’ sugar anytime he can.”
“No I don’t!”
“Yes you do!”
“No I-” Smoke trails off, letting his fist hit his thigh before relaxing as both brothers watch Annie sprinkle two large spoonfuls on her portion of grits before giving them a shallow stir.
“I like a little sweetness in the morning too. We had a rough night.” Annie explains before digging in. Stack just chuckles and shakes his head as he starts to eat as well. Smoke hums before helping himself to three spoonfuls of sugar and digging in.
Soon Mary joins them, all finish breakfast and the girls go out back to give the brother privacy to get changed. Annie takes Mary down the way towards the berry bushes to collect blackberries.
“So,” Annie starts, “ those are the twins you always talkin’ ‘bout.”
Mary blushes a little and looks intently at the inner branches of the berry bush.
“Yup. I usually stick more to Stack, when they get done pickin’ for the day. Stack takes me to run tricks on them crackas at the train station and pool hall. He even taught me how to pick a pocket! Smoke is all shy and shit, kinda boring but he’s cool. Real quiet like you be, sometimes. He likes fishin’ and playing cards, you can always find ‘em playing solitaire. He’s always reminding me to put on aloe vera if we out in the sun for too long, he's such a worry wart.” Mary rambles.
“ Solitaire? Seems like a pyramid or spades kinda guy.” Annie says and Mary tosses a bad berry to the side.
“He is, but he only partners wit Stack or Bo. He taught me all the rules but Stack taught me all the tricks on how to really order dem books!” Mary brags and Annie chuckles.
“Fishin huh?”
“Yeah, he’s the only one of us that can swim good. He got me to tread the water and float. Stack sinks like a hole inna boat! My poor fella.”
“Oh! Stack is ya fella?” Annie grins and Mary giggles.
“Yeah, he just don’t know it yet. Imma do that love spell you taught me on him and we gonna fall in love and move all the way to Cali and have a wedding day parade.” Mary gushes. Annie has to bite her lip to avoid laughing in her friend’s face. She thinks over Mary words for a second and her brows furrowed in thought.
“What love spell I teach you?” Annie asks with her hands on her hips and Mary goes bright red. The pale girl shoves a handful of berries in her mouth to avoid speaking but Annie continues drilling her with a wise look.
“Uhg!” Mary cringes as she swallows a sour berry and is forced to speak.
“Well you ain’t teach it to me yet! It’s that one ya granny was telling Daisy how to do about two months ago to put that lock on Mr. Lincoln’s son! The one spell made with her monthly blood! Soon as I start raggin’ you gotta teach me how to putta lock on Stack! That hussy Jo’Mae was all up on him at Cornbread’s birthday party last week and he was kissin’ her cheeks! So yo- dontcha laugh at me like that Annie!” Mary scolds as Annie has to grip the branch she was at and burst with giggles.
“Girl I ain’t gonna teach you that shit!” she chuckles out and Mary let her basket fall to her feet
“Why not? We could each lock up our men wit it!” Mary bargains and Annie howls again, holding her gut and tearing with laughter.
“Sionsiere ni? You 15 Mary! You don’t even get monthly-es! The folks before ya finna be confused you sniffing around wit kinda offering.”
“I can find some then!”
“Mary you ain’t finna steal some poor woman’s blood cloths over some nigga!”
“Elias ain’t any ole’ nigga! He’s mine! And you gotta help ya girl out Annie, we gonna be sister-in-laws. Think about it! I lead you to Smoke and you lock me to Stack!-”
“I ain’t worried ‘bout that boy! He done already got on my nerves all night and all morin’!
“Don’t you play me Annie-girl! I heard you call him pretty last night!
“Tch! Girl that wasn-
“Now focus! Those two brothers are always at the hip, so we gonna have the same wedding day! So you gotta help me put the work on ‘em”
Annie just shakes her head and wipes the berry juice off her fingers. “Sorry Lil Mary, but it’s a no. Besides, that ain’t the kinda root I want in my spirit. But…. I will say… you have a powerful will for manifesting, keep it up.” Annie states. She giggles again as she doges Mary pelting her with black berries.
The two finish their picking and head back to Annie’s house. Stack is sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, head tilted back on a pillow and snoring sleep. Smoke stands at Annie chicken coop, shirt tied around his waist as he works to re-tie the salvageable wires back to the roof nails. Three hens peck at the ground under him curiously while Smoke has to occasionally glare down at the rooster that threatens to peck his shins.
“Boy! I thought I told you to leave my coop alone! I gotta go to Chows for supplies!” Annie scolds as she sets the basket in Mary’s hands. One hand goes to her hip and the other pokes his shoulder in scolding. Smoke waves off her words and bends down another wire to mold to the nails with a pair of pliers.
“Girl hush! I told-ya Imma fix it! Now there is still good wire here, I’m tryna see what ya got to work with before I waste a trade wit Bo.” he mutters. Annie smacks her lips when the weak wire chips then falls to the ground instead of forming a new hook.
“See! The wire’s shit.” Annie points out as she grabs it from the ground before her rooster can inspect it. Smoke shakes his head and grabs it from her with a frown.
“Fine! C’mon, we going to the Chow’s.” Smoke grumbles and Annie gives him a wide eyed look.
“What?”
Annie watches as Smoke marches away from the coop to the door, wrestling his shirt back on. Mary wiggles her eyebrows at Annie from her position sat at Stack’s feet and Annie throws a handful of grass at her as she follows after Smoke. Before she can cross the threshold of her doorway, Smoke is handing her the messenger bag he’d seen Miss. Greenwood carried when he’d helped Bo unload the supply truck.
“Now, how you know this was my bag?”
“Is it?”
Annie huffs, “It’s my granny’s. Mines the navy leather one,” she points to the thinner bag on the stand rack next to the doorway.
Smoke nods, “I’ll remember that,” he says as he trades the bags and steps towards her.
“Now, c’mon let’s get to the Chow’s. Ya said ya Granny ain’t getting in ‘til late right? I can getcha coop done by then. Be part of what I owe ya.” Smoke says. Annie lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes.
“Elijah, I done tol-”
“Aht Aht! What I tell-ya last night. A bull ain’t got nothing to the Moore Mule, girl. Here’s ya bag.” Smoke shuts down. Annie can only stare him down, her doe eyes full of disbelief at his audacity.
Smoke holds the gaze firmly as he offers her the bag again, not dropping the gaze until she takes it with a quick sling over her shoulder. Smoke offers her his hand next.
“Mary! Lay a cold wet town on Stack for about 30 minutes. Then you gonna wake ‘im up Stack and give him some water and that second dose of tea. Cloverline on any of his complaints.” Annie instructs, her head barely turning in the lighter girl’s direction in favor of scanning Smoke’s hand.
“Uhh, okay? How long ya’ll finna be?” Mary asks.
“Bout two hours." Smoke answers for them both and Mary nearly gasps.
Annie just hums, she walks ahead and down her steps, ignoring his hand but leading them towards the road. Smoke stuff both into his pockets and gives Mary a curt nod.
“Don’t let him drown in drool, Lil Mary.”
“Oh, uh, okay?”
“Good.”
Mary watches in disbelief as the two older teens leave down the path. She watches until the back of them is lost to the haze of the heath and delta dust. With a huffing pout Mary settles into the chair next to the snoozing Stack, grabbing his hand and admiring the lines of his palms.
“Ain’t fair, she already got her man wrapped around her finger and mines snoring away!”
---
As the two young teens travel, Smoke makes sure to keep a step ahead and to the left of Annie. It allows her to still walk on the stable ground but not be out in the road or the first to confront if any trouble comes their way. Not a sound nor word is had between the two of them, besides the cicadas, birds, and the dirt crunching under their shoes, all was quiet.
Annie must admit, it’s a nice quiet to share with someone. Her granny would be huffing about the heat and the judgement of others at this point.
The last countryside marker before the edge of town is Mister Wilks covered wagon and mule. The resident forager that lives and sells from the cart, is a light skinned older fella who was all vinegar and made a strict living on sellin’ the wild onions, greens and mushrooms he’d gathered from the thickets on the east side of the Anderson plantation. Annie would like to say she didn’t mind the mean ole coot at all, if it wasn’t for one thing about him.
His damn mutts.
Wilks had two of them. A bulky boxer that usually minded the business of foxes and chicken more than anyone else, and a feisty redboned CoonDog, usually tied with braided leather to the back hitch on the wagon when not accompanying him to the thickets.
Annie tenses at the sounds of tugging cord and harsh barking sounds of Wilks' coon dog. That thing hated everyone but Wilks and the boxer. In the heat of the day, Wilks rested inside while both dogs were tied to a large wheelbarrow under a tree next to the wagon with just a set of deer antlers and a bowl of water for entertainment.
The dog hadn’t even seen the two teens proper on the road and was already barking and lunging to get at them. Annie thinks of the frayed leather and twine acting as leash and the back of her neck hurts. Annie goes to warn about her bad feeling but Smoke has already moved. The muscular teen steps back from Annie to swoop down and grab a thick stick off the ground.
Annie looks in awe as he tests the swing of it and comes back to her side, putting himself between her and the aggressive dog, then enclosing her under his arm. Smoke pauses them for a second to look her up and down before turning his attention to staring down the growling animal as they start to walk along again. Annie is blessed to be brown as the way Smoke’s heavy arm pressed on her back makes her all flustered. Annie’s head drops and she looks at her feet, praying that they won’t stumble because… maybe Mary was right… Smoke is awfully pretty.
Smoke bumps her hip with his when he feels Annie’s steps become shy then taps the side of her chin with a finger. Annie jerks her head up to look at the side of his face as he continues to stare down Wilks yapping dog, the mutt continues to growl and snap but never truly lunges for them.
“Don’t bow ya head in front of a mutt. It’ll think it can bite ya and you’ll yield if you do. Keep walkin’ how ya was and gon’ forward, we almost in town.”
Annie nods with a swallow and does as such. They go forward and make it past, the barks stopping abruptly once they are down a ways on the path. Smoke lets out a big sigh and turns his head forward, they get a few more steps before Annie’s neck aches again and she grip Smoke’s wrist hanging on her.
“Watch ya back!” She shrieks.
A snarl echoes behind them, the boxer was the one to pop his tie and charges with low growls for them. Annie backs away just as Smoke whirls around and shoves her behind him. With a brutal swing he connects the stick with the top of the dog's head, sending it dizzy but now truly angered.
Smoke stays low and in between the dog and Annie, meeting each of the growl dog’s lunges with another successful swing. Annie scrambles forward and grabs a large rock off the ground in one hand and the other grabs a fistful of Smoke’s shirt in the back. Before he can holler or question her, Annie drags him with a jerk to the left. The dog’s teeth chop at air instead of mauling into Smoke’s shin how it originally intended to and Annie grunts as she pitches down the rock and lands with a thud on the boxer’s back.
The dog yips in hurt defeat and bounds away from the two of them towards home, tail between its legs.
Smoke and Annie both heave for breath, both shake with the dump of adrenaline at the attack. Smoke tosses the stick aside and grabs Annie’s shoulder, he inspects it hands and arms first before looking over her face.
Annie can’t help but grasp his wrists and do the same.
“You good?” Smoke pants and Annie nods.
“You, you?” she croaks and he nods.
They go still after another moment just trying to breath. However, the angry yells of Wilks, running stomps and more barking sound behind them and break their moment of reprieve. Smoke swears, he turns his back to her and points a thumb to his back.
“C’mon!”
“Boy, you ain’t carryin’ me! I ain’t no stick!”
“We ain’t got time for this shit!”
Smoke whirls around and squat, “Elijah!” He wraps an arm around her hips and lifts with a slight grunt. He takes a moment to brace her legs to his chest with the other arm then takes off in his flour-bag carry of her. Annie yelps, her hands scrambles to grab the shoulder and back of his shirt as Smoke takes off in his flour-bag carry of her.
She watches as Wilks and his non-injured dog race closer and closer to them. Annie closes her eyes tight and prays for strength to Smoke’s legs and for anything to obstruct their chasers.
She opens her eyes to witness Wilks tripping over his own dog and hollers to beat it next. Smoke gains more speed and a firmier grip on her body.
All Annie can do now is close her eyes and pray she can handle this kinda ride.
Five hours later, four dollars spent, three more rolls of bandages used, and a wild story told twice later; Annie has herself with one freshly repaired chicken coop. Annie nods as Mary helps Stack into his shoes, the twins and pale girl having to head to Mary’s house soon if they wanted to make it for supper.
Annie walks out the house towards Smoke who firmly closes the new hatch door with a small smile of accomplishment.
“ Elijah?”
Smoke jumps a little at the sound of his name, but doesn’t let that smile fade. He may admit it later to his brother in the dead of the night but… Annie’s presence was starting to put a fuzzy and light feeling in his chest in a way that reminded him of that reefer weed from the night before. The fire in her eyes, the care in her voice, the way she wasn’t afraid to hold a blade up to him, the feeling of her soft and juicy skin pressed to his. Annie sure was something Smoke’s never encountered before and he hoped to have again.
“Antonia?”
“Here, you ought to wipe off before y’all move ‘round.” She hands him a dripping wet washcloth and with a nod he starts to wipe down his face and neck. Annie inspects his good work as he does so, letting her nails drag across the new wire and netting, she chuckles to find her rooster's approval with a cocky tut.
“This is a mighty fine coop, ‘Lijah. Oughta pay ya for something this nice.” she praises and Smoke shakes his head lightly with a puff of a laugh.
“Is that so?”
“Yea, name ya price,”
“Humph… how about, bangain’ up a knucklehead brother?”
Annie whistles sharply, “Elijah Moore, that’s a lowball bargain! You gonna have to up that price cus imma need you to know your worth.” Annie smiles sweetly as that draws a real laugh out of him. Smoke settles himself against the side of the coop, washing his hands and looking Annie over. (She looked too pretty in this denim dress and white headscarf, her curls billowed like a halo out the top.)
“...Well… hook me up wit breakfast again, it was pretty good. Ain’t had something that fillin’ in a while, it started my day.” Smoke compliments and Annie hums as she steps forward into his space.
“I think I can arrange it, catch ya at Hopson's witcha plate?”
“Nah, meet me at Sunflower.”
“Yeah, I can do that… let me see ya wrist.”
Smoke does so without question.
The pink of Annie’s tongue pokes out a tad between her lips as she ties a bracelet made of braided navy colored cord around Smoke’s wrist. Smoke can’t help but note it’s the same color as her satchel’s strap from earlier and that a turquoise bead from her necklace secures the knot of it.
“That pays off some of your tab.” Smoke says and Annie smiles.
“And it adds to yours. I wanna go fishin’ next Sunday.”
“ I gotta hidden spot on the creek, all trout in it. I’ll bring the poles, you bring the worms.” plans and Annie nods.
“That’ll cost you, Elijah.”
“You bargain hard, you may be too expensive for me.” Smoke jokes.
“Bring ya head my way and I’ll show ya how to pay it.”
And just like that, Annie and Elijah deal is sealed with a kiss.
A:N Here is my day 2 contribution for @nahimjustfeelingit-writes kinktober list lol. The fic i dropped yesterday and my homegirls persasuion made me write this one 🙂↔️🤗🤭 Updates for Something to Believe In and a new series coming soon 😁😈
Confession: Religious Kink/Forbidden worship - Sammie Moore & OC or BlkGal Reader - tw: oral (MR), choking, bible verses, saliva, stains
It was a deal that Sammie desperately needed, the car was in need of repairs and Sammie was in need of money, hot meals and a bed to replenish himself. Possibly a medicine woman to make a salve to further heal his aching scars. Possible some pussy. So here he was, him and his guitar slipping into the back of the sanctuary as noon prayer starts with a reciting of the Psalm 23.
Sammie arrives at the Calvary Hill Church of Kansas City on a Wednesday at noon. Some of the drummers he bumped into on his travels told him about the pastor’s hospitality towards traveling musicians. Offering free lunch in the fellowship hall after noon prayer, breakfast and dinner on Sundays, providing information on where the sundown towns were and finally letting any musicians stay up to a month in the guest rooms in the basement of the church. If they promise to perform for every Sunday of their stay.
It was a deal that Sammie desperately needed, the car was in need of repairs and Sammie was in need of money, hot meals and a bed to replenish himself. Possibly a medicine woman to make a salve to further heal his aching scars. Possible some pussy. So here he was, him and his guitar slipping into the back of the sanctuary as noon prayer starts with a reciting of the Psalm 23.
Sammie bows his head as he recites but also scoops out the room and its people in a way that would make Smoke proud. The church was decently big, could pack about 300 holly-rollers plus a full pulpit and band at a time, warm tan wood and blue-green stain glass everywhere. About 40 people were in attendance for this noon prayer, mostly maids, typists, and warehouse men on their lunch breaks.
Sammie spots the pastor and first lady instantly by the way they hold themselves at the front of the church, leading the scripture. The pastor here is the opposite of Sammie’s father, he’s a bald cinnamon skinned man with a tall bulky frame like John Henry’s. He's dressed casually in brown slacks and a light green button down with a corresponding jacket. On her knees at a prayer bench to the right of the man was his wife. She’s an ample shaped older woman with soft deep brown skin in a long sage green dress and cream cardigan her gold cross necklace gleaming on her neck as she deeply prayed with an oiled prayer cloth between her hands.
However, who truly caught Sammie's eye, was the figure to the left of the two. A young woman ‘bout the same age as Sammie stands proudly even with a bowed head that has her ribbon coils falling like a curtain over her face. Her body is greatly blessed, every curve filled perfectly even through her long denim dress. Lips thick and pretty with burgundy lipstick as they curse the devil, skin a perfect blend of browns and gleaming in the sun through the windows. She suddenly shakes her coils back and her eyes open, they are dark and lovely fox-like eyes.
And they look right into Sammie. Sammie nods at the little gapped-tooth smirk she sent him, they’ve recognized each other instantly.
Gotta be a preacher’s kid thing.
With his belly full off a pork chop sandwich and bowl of greens, Sammie stands at the front of the empty sanctuary. In front of him sits Pastor Curtis, First Lady Irene, and their lovely eldest child, Sabel, waiting as Sammie tunes his guitar before going into his rendition of This Little Light of Mine. Pastor Curtis nods along with closed eyes. First Lady Irene sways in spirit with clasped hands.
And Sabel, the young woman that made sure he was first plate? She’s eyeing Preacher Boy down, from his scared yet handsome face to his broadening shoulders and finally studying how his skilled hands drew a song on the guitar stings. Sammie raises an eyebrow that promises to play a song outta her too. Once he ends his performance Curtis gives a single strong clap that echoes like thunder through the high ceilings as he stands with a pleased grin.
“That was beautiful Sammuel! We’d be blessed to have you play during your stay here, been a year or two since we’ve hadda guitar man bring his praise. My darlin’ Sabel here is the head of YWPP and our youth hospitality board. She can show you to the guest room downstairs and tell ya a few places for colored folks round here that you can explore or shop at. Our choir meets every Thursday and Friday at five, you be there, get acquainted with Mother Opal, she's our beloved church mother and our Music director.” Curtis explains.
Sammie nods along, smiling when he is supposed too, giving firm handshakes and showing off his bible knowledge when he is supposed too. All his years of placating his father and studying Stack’s slickness made Sammie prime to impress.
Curtis and Irene leave to get back to their day jobs as school teachers and Sabel leads Sammie to the guest rooms. Back down the stairs to the basement level, through the fellowship hall and into a short hall that holds a bathroom and two bedrooms. Sammie hums at his humble abode for the next few weeks; a stripped twin bed, a wardrobe, a desk with a fan, two chairs and a mirror.
Sabel marches straight over to the desk and turns the fan on, she fake fans herself, gives a small sorry about how stuffy the room must be that leads into the excuse for her to pop the first two buttons of her dress open
“Go on and set your stuff down while I getcha some sheets on this bed. Get comftable” Sabel tells him as she comes back to him with switching hips. Sammie does as such, setting his guitar case on the desk before sitting on the chair. He takes off his jacket and vest as he watches Sabel bend down to the bottom of the wardrobe, ass poking as her sweet voice drifts out.
“So, you’re this Preacher Boy they’ve been raving about lately.” She says, Sammie gives a startled blink.
“Ya’ll don’ heard ‘bout me way ova here, already?” Sammie asks and Sabel nods as she stands and plops a set of white sheets and a pillow on the bed
“Sure have, well- I have atleast. Some Little Rock blowers raved ‘boutcha two weeks ago. They said the roof may as well been on fire. You play background before?” Sabel asks and Sammie nods. It’s been two years since he’s left Clarksdale and all he’d done was scrap by playing clubs to network and picking up one-time sessions at random studios for handfuls of dollars.
“I’ve jammed with a few. Went back and forth with T-Bone Walker a few months ago.” Sammie drops and it makes Sabel snap-n-point at him.
“In Memphis?”
Sammie nods and Sabel hums, hitting a sweet note of intrigue.
“Me and my girls had a listening party on you! I think.”
“You wanna hear something live?” Sammie offers as she pulls on sheets and goes to fluff the pillow out. Sabel hums as she plops down on his bed letting her legs spread, dress hiking to show off her thick mile-long legs.
“Tommorrow, after choir practice ends around seven. Me, Erza, Charles and Deet is going to wander on Vine street. I think that’s when I’d lika listen to something that ain’t a hymn.” Sabel stands, strutting forward to Sammie who automatically accommodates her to stand between his legs.
Her soft hands cup his cheek as she ‘inspects’ him, Sammie is bold enough to place his hands on her hips and she hums again.
“I can already see.” She starts, her hands gliding down the sides of his neck as presses forward another step. Sabel loops them around the back of it and presses her chest in his face. Sammie eyes down her hidden breast feeling up her solid waist so he can thumb the swell of them before meeting her lusty eyes again. “I can see you've been travelin’ Mister Moore. It’s my duty as hospitality head to ensure that chu Go on and relax for the evening."
Sammie licks his lips, she brings a scripture to his mind as he kisses the top of her breast, dragging his hand down to loosen more buttons so her tiddies spill out into his hands. Her dress is almost completely undone. Sabel’s breath hitches as he squeezes, bites, then recites
“How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights! Thy stature is lika palm tree, and thy breasts the clusters of its fruits.
I said, I will go up the palm tree, I will take hold of the bouts there: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine,
and the smell of thy breath like apples; And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.”
Sammie quotes, taking his time to lick the taste of shea butter off her breast, take in the smell of rose and kiss hickey on them as he gropes her. Sabel moans out at his quick work to get her wet, Sammie bucks back in the chair when Sabel reaches down and palms his dick with a tender hand.
“Songs of Solomon. Forth song?” she pants. Sammie surges to a stand and kisses her, Sabel licks in his mouth and the two young adults smack deeply, tasting each other.
“Seventh” Sammie corrects her when they break apart for air. He bites his lip as Sabel starts to kiss hickeys into his neck now as she works his belt open.
“Think imma have to study that book again. Gonna be my partner for it?” She asks him as she drags Sammie by the belt towards the half made bed. Sabel takes a seat on its edge and Sammie lets his pants fully drop and dick spring forward. The fat head is already tapping Sabel’s wet burgundy lips, she gives it a shallow kiss as she grasps Sammie’s hip for purchase.
Her other hand wraps around his base, thumb sliding up and down between his heavy balls. Preacher Boy’s grunts while his hand gathers all her ribbon coils into a ponytail at her crown, arching her head back a tad.
Sammie needs to see this worship happen. He needs to see his dick disappear down her throat. He needs to see the tears from the choking as her cheeks hollow and puff. He needs to see the drool spills down his legs to her lap as she slurps, he needs to meet her fucking eyes.
“Ain’t yo daddy the pastor?” he scolds her and Sabel pouts, eyes full of challenge and mirth.
Sammie makes his dick jump and those thick lips kiss his head again. It prompts Sabel to lick down the seam of his shaft. She whimpers out a moan when Sammie twists his grip tighter in her hair. Sabel’s legs squirm together as west arousal blossoms between them when Sammie grabs at her breast again with his empty hand.
“Ahh, ah!” She squeaks when he teases her nipple hard before pressing it in with his thumb and teases slowly once more.
“I’ve never had a guitar man down my throat before, all y'all this thick? Don’t know if I can take that.” she admits and Sammie gives a deep chuckle.
“You got three weeks to find that out…. Fuck!” Sammie grunts then hisses out when Sable puts the whole head in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around his dick’s head until her chin is damp with spit before swallowing him down inch-by-inch until all seven inches of Sammie is in her mouth.
It hits the back of her throat pointedly causing a wet choke. Both shutter as she gulps deeply, Sammie flick her nipple and she gag hasher before moaning. Sammie watches with reverence as Sabel pulls off him half way before swallowing back down, choke-gulp-gag, again. Choke-gulp-gag, again. Choke-gulp-gag, again. Lipstick kissed to his pelvis.
Sammie is pateince until she’s eased herself into bodding on him before he starts to fuck her mouth. He alters between easing his grip then twisting tight again as he trusts over her tongue. Sabel ends up rubbing the sloppy top drool down over his balls as he uses her hand for assistance. Both are moaning over the fulfillment of their lusty actions, Sabel's eyes are thin slits glisten with sinful tears and full of pleasure. Sammie can see her legs press and squirm, begging for friction to pair with the neediness that the velvet of him in her mouth has caused to ache in her pussy.
“Keep goin’, keep goin’ baby. Ya swallow this dick so good, we gonna get ya cooze tended tah.” Sammie grunts out and that makes her moan more and her eyes roll back. Sabel lets Sammie lead the pace now. Her mouth is nothing but a hole to him.Sabel locks back in when Sammie’s bucking starts to falter, she gazes forward as his core flexes with building orgasm.
Grasping both his hips and holding still, her tongue wags on the underside of his shaft before slowly pulling back as she sucks then slowly swallows back down him. Sabel does it three more times before Sammie comes with heavenly shouting, both hands holding her down as he shoots a thick load down her throat.
Sabel chokes as she tries to keep up with swallowing his nut, but it too much. She looks up at Sammie through teary lashes as cum leaks out the sides of her mouth in thick trails of saliva around his shaft from her puffy cheeks. All of it splatter down her chest.
“Ya mouth’s God’s gift to earth.” Sammie groans out his dick jumps one last time as she gulps around him before pulling back. Sammie watches in awe as she licks up what was left of his nut of her lips before she leans back to rest on her arms. Her wet and cum-stained chest heaving as she watches Sammie say fuck it and take his shirt off. Admiring his strong-lean body built by field-work and delta dirt.
“It goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding over lips and teeth. I am my beloved's. And his desire is for me.” Sabel finally pants out. “Chaper 7, verse 9 though 10” Sabel recites with a cum-drunk smile at him. Sammie chuckles at that with a shake of his head.
Sabel watches him with wide eyes as Sammie sinks down to his knees and bust through the rest of her buttons. Leaving her denim dress wide open pussy exposed to the fan-chilled air then warmed by Sammie mouth placing a big kiss over her dripping slit.
“Preacher Boy! Preacher Boy, whatcha doin?!” Sable cries out when her heavy leg is effortlessly put on his shoulder, held tight so Sammie can drive in a bit further.
“Something only guitar men do. Relax, darlin’ don’t run from this.”
Sabel lets out a loud deep needy moan, hand fisting the loose sheet and calls to God go out as Sammie’s tongue licks up her pussy-fold to seek her button. Her leg shakes, tightening on him once he finds it and starts to do the signature Moore Man trick taught to him by Stack. Sabel jumps with a whine as Sammie chuckle vibrates her this time before he holds her thighs apart so he can have room to eat.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Now that there's a new CEO at Disney, perhaps a Release Willow campaign could get some traction? Not asking for the other seasons (...yet), but simply for the series to be made available in a less ah piratical way for fans to watch.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A:N Here is my day 2 contribution for @nahimjustfeelingit-writes kinktober list lol. The fic i dropped yesterday and my homegirls persasuion made me write this one 🙂↔️🤗🤭 Updates for Something to Believe In and a new series coming soon 😁😈
Confession: Religious Kink/Forbidden worship - Sammie Moore & OC or BlkGal Reader - tw: oral (MR), choking, bible verses, saliva, stains
It was a deal that Sammie desperately needed, the car was in need of repairs and Sammie was in need of money, hot meals and a bed to replenish himself. Possibly a medicine woman to make a salve to further heal his aching scars. Possible some pussy. So here he was, him and his guitar slipping into the back of the sanctuary as noon prayer starts with a reciting of the Psalm 23.
Sammie arrives at the Calvary Hill Church of Kansas City on a Wednesday at noon. Some of the drummers he bumped into on his travels told him about the pastor’s hospitality towards traveling musicians. Offering free lunch in the fellowship hall after noon prayer, breakfast and dinner on Sundays, providing information on where the sundown towns were and finally letting any musicians stay up to a month in the guest rooms in the basement of the church. If they promise to perform for every Sunday of their stay.
It was a deal that Sammie desperately needed, the car was in need of repairs and Sammie was in need of money, hot meals and a bed to replenish himself. Possibly a medicine woman to make a salve to further heal his aching scars. Possible some pussy. So here he was, him and his guitar slipping into the back of the sanctuary as noon prayer starts with a reciting of the Psalm 23.
Sammie bows his head as he recites but also scoops out the room and its people in a way that would make Smoke proud. The church was decently big, could pack about 300 holly-rollers plus a full pulpit and band at a time, warm tan wood and blue-green stain glass everywhere. About 40 people were in attendance for this noon prayer, mostly maids, typists, and warehouse men on their lunch breaks.
Sammie spots the pastor and first lady instantly by the way they hold themselves at the front of the church, leading the scripture. The pastor here is the opposite of Sammie’s father, he’s a bald cinnamon skinned man with a tall bulky frame like John Henry’s. He's dressed casually in brown slacks and a light green button down with a corresponding jacket. On her knees at a prayer bench to the right of the man was his wife. She’s an ample shaped older woman with soft deep brown skin in a long sage green dress and cream cardigan her gold cross necklace gleaming on her neck as she deeply prayed with an oiled prayer cloth between her hands.
However, who truly caught Sammie's eye, was the figure to the left of the two. A young woman ‘bout the same age as Sammie stands proudly even with a bowed head that has her ribbon coils falling like a curtain over her face. Her body is greatly blessed, every curve filled perfectly even through her long denim dress. Lips thick and pretty with burgundy lipstick as they curse the devil, skin a perfect blend of browns and gleaming in the sun through the windows. She suddenly shakes her coils back and her eyes open, they are dark and lovely fox-like eyes.
And they look right into Sammie. Sammie nods at the little gapped-tooth smirk she sent him, they’ve recognized each other instantly.
Gotta be a preacher’s kid thing.
With his belly full off a pork chop sandwich and bowl of greens, Sammie stands at the front of the empty sanctuary. In front of him sits Pastor Curtis, First Lady Irene, and their lovely eldest child, Sabel, waiting as Sammie tunes his guitar before going into his rendition of This Little Light of Mine. Pastor Curtis nods along with closed eyes. First Lady Irene sways in spirit with clasped hands.
And Sabel, the young woman that made sure he was first plate? She’s eyeing Preacher Boy down, from his scared yet handsome face to his broadening shoulders and finally studying how his skilled hands drew a song on the guitar stings. Sammie raises an eyebrow that promises to play a song outta her too. Once he ends his performance Curtis gives a single strong clap that echoes like thunder through the high ceilings as he stands with a pleased grin.
“That was beautiful Sammuel! We’d be blessed to have you play during your stay here, been a year or two since we’ve hadda guitar man bring his praise. My darlin’ Sabel here is the head of YWPP and our youth hospitality board. She can show you to the guest room downstairs and tell ya a few places for colored folks round here that you can explore or shop at. Our choir meets every Thursday and Friday at five, you be there, get acquainted with Mother Opal, she's our beloved church mother and our Music director.” Curtis explains.
Sammie nods along, smiling when he is supposed too, giving firm handshakes and showing off his bible knowledge when he is supposed too. All his years of placating his father and studying Stack’s slickness made Sammie prime to impress.
Curtis and Irene leave to get back to their day jobs as school teachers and Sabel leads Sammie to the guest rooms. Back down the stairs to the basement level, through the fellowship hall and into a short hall that holds a bathroom and two bedrooms. Sammie hums at his humble abode for the next few weeks; a stripped twin bed, a wardrobe, a desk with a fan, two chairs and a mirror.
Sabel marches straight over to the desk and turns the fan on, she fake fans herself, gives a small sorry about how stuffy the room must be that leads into the excuse for her to pop the first two buttons of her dress open
“Go on and set your stuff down while I getcha some sheets on this bed. Get comftable” Sabel tells him as she comes back to him with switching hips. Sammie does as such, setting his guitar case on the desk before sitting on the chair. He takes off his jacket and vest as he watches Sabel bend down to the bottom of the wardrobe, ass poking as her sweet voice drifts out.
“So, you’re this Preacher Boy they’ve been raving about lately.” She says, Sammie gives a startled blink.
“Ya’ll don’ heard ‘bout me way ova here, already?” Sammie asks and Sabel nods as she stands and plops a set of white sheets and a pillow on the bed
“Sure have, well- I have atleast. Some Little Rock blowers raved ‘boutcha two weeks ago. They said the roof may as well been on fire. You play background before?” Sabel asks and Sammie nods. It’s been two years since he’s left Clarksdale and all he’d done was scrap by playing clubs to network and picking up one-time sessions at random studios for handfuls of dollars.
“I’ve jammed with a few. Went back and forth with T-Bone Walker a few months ago.” Sammie drops and it makes Sabel snap-n-point at him.
“In Memphis?”
Sammie nods and Sabel hums, hitting a sweet note of intrigue.
“Me and my girls had a listening party on you! I think.”
“You wanna hear something live?” Sammie offers as she pulls on sheets and goes to fluff the pillow out. Sabel hums as she plops down on his bed letting her legs spread, dress hiking to show off her thick mile-long legs.
“Tommorrow, after choir practice ends around seven. Me, Erza, Charles and Deet is going to wander on Vine street. I think that’s when I’d lika listen to something that ain’t a hymn.” Sabel stands, strutting forward to Sammie who automatically accommodates her to stand between his legs.
Her soft hands cup his cheek as she ‘inspects’ him, Sammie is bold enough to place his hands on her hips and she hums again.
“I can already see.” She starts, her hands gliding down the sides of his neck as presses forward another step. Sabel loops them around the back of it and presses her chest in his face. Sammie eyes down her hidden breast feeling up her solid waist so he can thumb the swell of them before meeting her lusty eyes again. “I can see you've been travelin’ Mister Moore. It’s my duty as hospitality head to ensure that chu Go on and relax for the evening."
Sammie licks his lips, she brings a scripture to his mind as he kisses the top of her breast, dragging his hand down to loosen more buttons so her tiddies spill out into his hands. Her dress is almost completely undone. Sabel’s breath hitches as he squeezes, bites, then recites
“How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights! Thy stature is lika palm tree, and thy breasts the clusters of its fruits.
I said, I will go up the palm tree, I will take hold of the bouts there: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine,
and the smell of thy breath like apples; And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.”
Sammie quotes, taking his time to lick the taste of shea butter off her breast, take in the smell of rose and kiss hickey on them as he gropes her. Sabel moans out at his quick work to get her wet, Sammie bucks back in the chair when Sabel reaches down and palms his dick with a tender hand.
“Songs of Solomon. Forth song?” she pants. Sammie surges to a stand and kisses her, Sabel licks in his mouth and the two young adults smack deeply, tasting each other.
“Seventh” Sammie corrects her when they break apart for air. He bites his lip as Sabel starts to kiss hickeys into his neck now as she works his belt open.
“Think imma have to study that book again. Gonna be my partner for it?” She asks him as she drags Sammie by the belt towards the half made bed. Sabel takes a seat on its edge and Sammie lets his pants fully drop and dick spring forward. The fat head is already tapping Sabel’s wet burgundy lips, she gives it a shallow kiss as she grasps Sammie’s hip for purchase.
Her other hand wraps around his base, thumb sliding up and down between his heavy balls. Preacher Boy’s grunts while his hand gathers all her ribbon coils into a ponytail at her crown, arching her head back a tad.
Sammie needs to see this worship happen. He needs to see his dick disappear down her throat. He needs to see the tears from the choking as her cheeks hollow and puff. He needs to see the drool spills down his legs to her lap as she slurps, he needs to meet her fucking eyes.
“Ain’t yo daddy the pastor?” he scolds her and Sabel pouts, eyes full of challenge and mirth.
Sammie makes his dick jump and those thick lips kiss his head again. It prompts Sabel to lick down the seam of his shaft. She whimpers out a moan when Sammie twists his grip tighter in her hair. Sabel’s legs squirm together as west arousal blossoms between them when Sammie grabs at her breast again with his empty hand.
“Ahh, ah!” She squeaks when he teases her nipple hard before pressing it in with his thumb and teases slowly once more.
“I’ve never had a guitar man down my throat before, all y'all this thick? Don’t know if I can take that.” she admits and Sammie gives a deep chuckle.
“You got three weeks to find that out…. Fuck!” Sammie grunts then hisses out when Sable puts the whole head in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around his dick’s head until her chin is damp with spit before swallowing him down inch-by-inch until all seven inches of Sammie is in her mouth.
It hits the back of her throat pointedly causing a wet choke. Both shutter as she gulps deeply, Sammie flick her nipple and she gag hasher before moaning. Sammie watches with reverence as Sabel pulls off him half way before swallowing back down, choke-gulp-gag, again. Choke-gulp-gag, again. Choke-gulp-gag, again. Lipstick kissed to his pelvis.
Sammie is pateince until she’s eased herself into bodding on him before he starts to fuck her mouth. He alters between easing his grip then twisting tight again as he trusts over her tongue. Sabel ends up rubbing the sloppy top drool down over his balls as he uses her hand for assistance. Both are moaning over the fulfillment of their lusty actions, Sabel's eyes are thin slits glisten with sinful tears and full of pleasure. Sammie can see her legs press and squirm, begging for friction to pair with the neediness that the velvet of him in her mouth has caused to ache in her pussy.
“Keep goin’, keep goin’ baby. Ya swallow this dick so good, we gonna get ya cooze tended tah.” Sammie grunts out and that makes her moan more and her eyes roll back. Sabel lets Sammie lead the pace now. Her mouth is nothing but a hole to him.Sabel locks back in when Sammie’s bucking starts to falter, she gazes forward as his core flexes with building orgasm.
Grasping both his hips and holding still, her tongue wags on the underside of his shaft before slowly pulling back as she sucks then slowly swallows back down him. Sabel does it three more times before Sammie comes with heavenly shouting, both hands holding her down as he shoots a thick load down her throat.
Sabel chokes as she tries to keep up with swallowing his nut, but it too much. She looks up at Sammie through teary lashes as cum leaks out the sides of her mouth in thick trails of saliva around his shaft from her puffy cheeks. All of it splatter down her chest.
“Ya mouth’s God’s gift to earth.” Sammie groans out his dick jumps one last time as she gulps around him before pulling back. Sammie watches in awe as she licks up what was left of his nut of her lips before she leans back to rest on her arms. Her wet and cum-stained chest heaving as she watches Sammie say fuck it and take his shirt off. Admiring his strong-lean body built by field-work and delta dirt.
“It goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding over lips and teeth. I am my beloved's. And his desire is for me.” Sabel finally pants out. “Chaper 7, verse 9 though 10” Sabel recites with a cum-drunk smile at him. Sammie chuckles at that with a shake of his head.
Sabel watches him with wide eyes as Sammie sinks down to his knees and bust through the rest of her buttons. Leaving her denim dress wide open pussy exposed to the fan-chilled air then warmed by Sammie mouth placing a big kiss over her dripping slit.
“Preacher Boy! Preacher Boy, whatcha doin?!” Sable cries out when her heavy leg is effortlessly put on his shoulder, held tight so Sammie can drive in a bit further.
“Something only guitar men do. Relax, darlin’ don’t run from this.”
Sabel lets out a loud deep needy moan, hand fisting the loose sheet and calls to God go out as Sammie’s tongue licks up her pussy-fold to seek her button. Her leg shakes, tightening on him once he finds it and starts to do the signature Moore Man trick taught to him by Stack. Sabel jumps with a whine as Sammie chuckle vibrates her this time before he holds her thighs apart so he can have room to eat.
Half racing to cook eggs and the other to the bathroom
Somehow a lonely jar of Blue Magic and a broke rattail appear on the coffee table
We all will soon have our turns with it
My mama finally stopped bumping my ends
and I can have the half cornrows and crochet fro like Alicia Keys
Who is singing about her Teenage Love Affair with Antwone Fisher on my ol' CD player
We show each other our dance routines and my mama laughs while my daddy rolls his eyes
He doesn't understand!
We move just like Zendaya and Willow and Lil Mama and OMG Girlz and-
We finish getting ready for the day, it 11am and the bathroom counter and my dresser is a glossy mess of oil sheen, rubber bands, coco butter and vaseline
My big brother
who smells of Black & Milds and heavy gold rings
just bought me my first oversized graphic tee with a spray painted Betty Boop on it
I tuck that cool ass tee shit into my Jean short that hit just before my knee with red flowers stitched by me and auntie on the side
He drops off the gaggle of girls at the mall with a total of 30 dollars and says have fun,
he heads back to his apartment then Clint's to get to work-
We shoplifted big ass sunglasses from the Claire's and bought a pack grape gloss and cotton candy body mist from the Beauty Supply store,
for a total of 6 dollars
We share
So we can look like RayRay or Roc girls
I'm a Princeton girl tho.
We just finish our slushies and corn dogs infront of the mall fountain when the rumble and sound of my brother comes down the street.
A Milli, bass boosted, blasting. We scramble in, backseat full
the skinny cousin on my lap,
the others giggling on the floor.
Back to my house, we gotta get ready. I hide the seam line between cornrows and false curls with a white bandana
I braid plastic neon colored extensions into my cousin box braids
One cousin hide the big gold hoops in her purse, next to a packet of tissues. We gonna put them on later
Because we are going to the skating ring
To scream our hearts out to How To Love as we speed on highlight colored wheels on the dingy roller floor
Holding hands between the six of us
And piss off the white kids
When the light turn back on and some country sound that I dont remember, but it sound patriotic, plays.
It tells us to go home now, return your skates
We scramble into the back of daddy's truck at 9 pm hopped up on
pop rocks and pickle juice and tacky light up pacifier necklaces
We are the girls they talking bout
Someone found a sharpie and now we are all tatted up
By 11pm we are scrubbed clean, heads wrapped in purple bonnets and black silk, sleepily drinking water, whispering over magazines and wishing we could wear pink wigs, sneak watching a censored Baby Boy on the tv.
Mama tells us cut that noise out.
It 2011
It's the beginning of summer and
Lil Wayne just dropped How to Love
In the tangle pile of cousins on couch cushion, flat pillows and blankets
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Annie tries out her Nice 'n' Warm tea blend out on Smoke with intentions to pass the time while snowed in. Just for Stack to show up and show that there's nothing wrong with playing games
While snowy winters in Mississippi are rare, they aren’t impossible. The snow steadily falling outside means it is cold, and that means that the whole of Clarksdale, Black or White, is locked into their homes.
Bunked in and bored to death.
However! Annie has a plan to address the need to keep both busy and warm, with a soft smile on her face she watches her tea kettle tink and clink as the water starts to boil. Annie sways in place as she grinds together the warming spices of ginger and cardamom along, some floral tones of dried rose and jasmine into plain black tea leaves for her custom ‘Nice n’ Warm’ blend.
She eyes down Smoke’s finely sculpted back; he is clad in just a pair of pajama pants and his under-tank his brown skin striking against the white of the top and silver of his dog tags. The sight prompts Annie to add a few more pinches of dried Hybrid Damiana aka Love Leaf aka a potent aphrodisiac she’s been custom growing for a while. Hell it was this tea blend alone that was the cause of the mini-baby waved in Clarksdale two summers ago. Can’t do nothing but fuck to cure the fever it causes.
Meanwhile, Smoke watches the harsh flurries of white hit the window pane trying to calculate when would be the best time to run out to the side of the house to get more wood for the fireplace. His brow frowns at the new sight just outside the glass.
“I know that ain’t…. That dumbass!” Smoke scowls as he gets up and hurries out of the room to tug on his sweater and denim coat. Annie frowns herself and looks at the window just to roll her eyes with another exasperated sigh as she sifts the blend into a silk tea bag to plop into the kettle.
There, trudging through the falling snow in just a trench coat, hat, and scarf with a messenger bag clutched in his ungloved fist, is Stack. Annie giggles at the scolding Smoke was laying into his brother as he hurries over the yard while the younger twin slips ’n’ slides on the ice slick footpath. Annie watches as the two basically collide together trying to stop the other from slipping on the ice which inspires a whole new slew of scolding to leave Smoke’s mouth as they hit the snowy ground anyway. She giggles harder yet reluctantly pulls on a long cardigan over her thin house-dress for modesty-sake.
“And why the hell you out in this?!” Smoke’s voice booms as the two finally make it back to the poach in one piece. Stack hurries to knock the snow off his boots and leaves them just in the doorway first, rolling his eyes at Smoke’s questioning. Stack makes a point to toss his snowy coat onto Smoke, making sure the cold of it hits his brother in the face.
“I can’t visit my damn brother and sister-in-law anymore?” Stack argues back before yelping as Smoke slaps snow onto the back of his head with a satisfied smirk at the younger’s jumping shiver. Stack flicks him off as he turns into the kitchen to smile brightly at Annie, the last of his shivers starting to melt in the warmth of her house. He pulls her into a half hug that makes her flinch from the cold but still grin.
“Hey Annie-girl!”
“Hey, ‘Lias.”
“Not in a damn ice storm, ya can’t!” Smoke argues as he puts away their coats. Stack waves him off before settling into the chair Smoke was occupying beforehand and starts to rub his hands together to warm them up.
“Well, I was about to die over at my house. So I gotta valid excuse.” Stack says and Annie gives him a bewildered look.
“What’s wrong? Heater dead?” Annie asks as she sets up two mugs with generous amounts of clove-infused honey into the bottoms before slowly pouring her custom tea.
“Well my dear Annie! It’s pretty simple… I was bored.” Stack explains with a serious expression that cracks into a sly grin as Annie chuckles.
“Stack…. Git outta my house.” Smoke deadpans and that sends the chuckles into cackles from Annie.
“Wow! My own brother! Wanna cast me out into the cold and frozen streets to suffer! To frost over, fall and shatter into ice! Annie, how'd you meet such a cruel man!” Stack overreacts, moping in performance. Smoke scowls as he takes out the other chair and crosses his glorious arms, now hidden by a sweater.
“Ah, you’d be a’ight nigga.”
“Elijah, be nice to lil brother.” Annie teases with a kiss to the side of her husband’s head as she settles one of the aphrodisiac mugs in front of him and warms her hand on her own. She then prepares the other kettle with plain water to boil once again. She contemplates making it all chamomile and lavender to knock her brother-in-law out so she could get her nut in, in peace.
“Yeah! Be nice to lil brother, like the woman said!” Stack places the messenger bag on the table and starts to dig through it. “ An’ for you Annie! I got some new records for ya, hot off the press outta Atlanta” Stack bribes her. Annie oohs while Smoke rolls his eyes and lights his pipe, she pulls out the small circle and eyes the label for a name. The only thing scrawled on the little paper circle of pink is “ Dirty Lucille.”
“So bored? Whatcha tryna do?” Annie asks Stack as she accepts the gift, being a proper host while Smoke takes a big sip of his tea in trying to warm back up.
“Uhm, I don't know. What was ya’ll ‘bout to get into?”
“Hibernation.” Smokes deadpans, making Stack’s face drop into a matching look of disengagement as he turns his head to look at Annie, a move that says with not a word “this nigga.” Both men give soft smiles as Annie clutches her belly with laughter at the two's antics. She walks around the kitchen table, sipping her mug as she goes back towards the sitting room and further back to the bedroom.
“Give me a second. Let me get my donimos, work some money off the both of ya’. Elijah’s gonna wash the dishes.” Annie taunts with a wink as she leaves. Smoke unabashedly watches the heavy sway of her wide hips and bounce of her ass. So entranced in the look of his wife he didn’t notice Stack’s eyes roaming her over as well. He takes in her upper curves and the glistening skin of her neck that was showcased with her hair pulled up in a puff.
Stack swallows heavily and rolls his toothpick over his teeth; he then gets up to busy himself so Smoke didn’t catch on to him. Stack snags another mug out the cupboard and hums at the two kettles. He eyes the one that already had the white ribbon of a tea bag hanging out of it and pours some from it along with two big scoops of sugar. He barely lets the cane sugar melt before taking back a big gulp and humming at the strong warming flavors.
Both brothers settle down, Stack rolling a cig to share when Annie comes back in with a cheshire grin and sets the bright blue tin full of dark wood dominos with dots of bold white on the table. She hands the tablet of paper to Stack, who automatically divides it into threes and puts little nicknames on top to signify who's who. Annie slides Smoke the thin domino stand out the box before dumping the little bricks onto the table and her Man starts to mix them with instigating clacks.
“Now Annie, I love ya! But you just any ole nigga when it comes to dominos. I ain’t gonna be nice and soft like him.” Stack taunts with a point of his thumb to Smoke. Annie scoffs and flicks his forehead.
“You can keep runnin’ that mouth, cause I’m finna run them pockets.”
“My pockets!?”
“Imma start with ten dollars down, unless ya pussy?”
“American green?” Stack asks with a sly grin that turns wild as Annie pulls out a true ten dollar bill from her cleavage and slaps it down where the game is going to be built. Stack is quick to pull out a roll of cash from his pocket and adds two tens in.
Smoke smacks his lips then gasps when both brother and wife whip their heads around to him.
“Where’s ya bread bruh?”
“Hell nah, I ain’t sacrificing my green to you damn chickenheads!” Smoke swears as he pulls his seven dominos from the pile.
“Dem sound like broke nigga words. Dem words all you can afford, Elijah?” Stack says. Smoke rolls his eyes watching Annie take a gulp of her tea and lick the lush of her lips.
“Ain’t broke, my habits keep me from that. Like not letting yo cotton-mouth ass con me.
“Ah, baby! I thought you just played in puss, not that ya was one.” Annie tuts next and Stacks hollers as Smoke gasps at his wife.
“Watcha self woman ‘fore I have ya bent over my knee wit something in ya mouth!”
“ ‘Long as some money on it! Put it in, Mister Moore.” Annie ends with a purr that makes both brothers shiver. Smoke kisses his teeth but takes his denim coat off, making a show of pulling out the roll from the inner pocket then tossing a twenty and ten on the pile.
Just like that, the game begins.
For the next 40 minutes nothing but rude taunts, flirty insults, and dominos slams fill the air of the little kitchen that gains so much heat the window fogs. All three mugs of Nice ‘n’ Warm are bone dry empty and sweat rolls down all three’s of their brows. Stack’s eyes damn near cross between looking at his hand of bricks and the glistening of Annie’s tiddies. She’s taken off her cardigan 20 minutes in, uncaring to the sharp side eye her husband gives her in favor of taking money out of his coat pocket. Annie’s plump mounds drag on the table before jostling back in place when she kicks back in her seat. The younger twin licks sweat off his upper lip before shedding off his sweater, leaving him in his undershirt.
“Feeling that heat, Stack? Can’t take it?’
“Oh I got sumthin’ you can take a’ight, Ann. Hard!” Stack bellows slamming down a double five brick and cackling as he adds 20 to his point count. He took the swift kick to his shin by Smoke like a champ, reveling as Annie pants in a frustration that seems to be more than just competition but a madness that was starting to plague him as well.
A tightness in his pelvis only a tiddy fuck or a taste of something pink may remedy. Not being teased by his brother’s wife just sitting there in all her thick and hot body glory.
Smoke, of course, was worse off. His dick was straight hard, one hand commands his bricks and the other on Annie’s thigh gripping a bruise into the chocolate softness. Everytime she pressed her thighs together for friction he made a point to run his fingers down her panty-covered slit forcing her to open up and Annie forced out another flirt from her sinful mouth to pretend she had some kinda upper hand.
“Fuck you! ‘Lijah! Play that gotdamn snake eye you got so I can getta twenty piece back!” Annie fusses and Smoke smacks his teeth in time with a swat to the side of her ass. The recoil of it aches his dick to just have Annie sit on his lap and remedy him. The memories of her riding him like she’s was a Kentcky pro on a mustang almost makes say fuck it to the game and fuck off to his brother.
“I ain’t got shit but dick to give you, Woman!” he hisses out instead as he picks up the double one anyway. Annie’s giggle is twisted.
“Man, then put it on the table!”
Annie rolls her eyes back and lets out a moan when Smoke teases her slit again and it becomes a bit too much. She presses her hand over her mouth in surprise that it came out of her. Both Smoke and Stack grow still as a cold night. That moan… it means something… it charges the space with pure lust and pushes boundaries. Annie yanks Smoke hand off her by the wrist and Stack swallows to see his twin’s hand glistening with that bit of wetness he’d sneakily been drawing out of her.
Thoughts of symmetry filled the younger twin's mind at that moment.
Would his hand look the same if baptised by Annie?
Annie lets out a shaky breath, they watch her body bounce as Annie presses her legs together, and straightens up. Annie placed down her third domino with a soft click, it and the crackling of the oven the only sound among them. Stack squints at his dominos, he had two options.
Win the game but lose the sight of Annie.
Stretch the bets and see where this goes.
Annie’s eyes go wide as Stack abruptly stands. Her jaw drops to see his dick just as hard as Smoke’s, both brother’s velvety girth’s throbbing in showcase through their pants.
“Let’s put it on the table, Ann.” Stack offers. He barely gets a chance to breath before Smoke snatches him by the collar and nearly hauls him clear across the table.
“Fuck you say, bruh?”
“You heard me, Annie-girl said put some dick on the table, why would I refuse the lady’s request?”
Annie is between the brothers in a flash. Pressing her back against Smoke to force him to put distance between himself and Stack then Annie lays her hands against Stack’s firm pecks and staggers him back a step.
Yet, she kept her hands on him.
“Elijah. Sinmi.” She commands him, her Man sucks in a breath with a bit of a hiss between the teeth but relents. His hands drift down to her supple waist and grip her flush against him with a grid forwards. The poke of dick-printed fabric against the back of her pussy is sticky with precum and makes Annie swallow down a throaty whimper at the tease. Stack watches her inspect him, his heart pounding at her calculating glances as she undresses him with her eyes. Annie’s hands skim down his front until they rest on his waistband and from there she pops off his buckle. Stack thrust forward a bit so his pants don’t fully fall off then and there.
“Fuck this game.” Annie says. Stack eyes go wide as Smoke’s hands surge up Annie’s body to grasp Annie’s tiddies in two gripping, overspilling handfuls of plump, brown flesh. He bends down and licks a kiss onto Annie’s neck with a glare of possession.
“Yeah, fuck this game. Take yo ass on home, nigga. Annie, take yo ass on to the bedroom before I put cha on this table again.”
Annie shutters for a moment, hands flying up to his ear and tugging down it lightly with her nails.
“You ain’t the one decidin’ the game ‘ere. Ms. Annie is.” Stack stands his ground with a nod. Annie chuckles darkly at that, a throaty sound that damn near vibrates through both siblings.
“Annie?” Smoke asks into her hair. Annie trails her hand down from Smoke’s head, then back onto his body until it runs lightly over his hardness.
“I do like a quick game….” Annie teases as she clutches him a bit and Smoke curses under his breath. Annie presses forward now, basically dragging Smoke forward as she plays her free hand down Stack’s pants.
“Ah, shit!” He girts out as Annie gently but firmly grips around the base of his shaft. The rest of Annie fingers palm around the side, on instinct her fingertips glide and tease the vein on the left. Annie hums with intrigue, like she just invented something special or discovered something unknown to the world.
“Damn. Ya’ll twins all the way down.” She tells them both, a desperate lick around her lips to hold back the need to salivate. As she holds both brothers now, Annie can’t help but feel a deep pressure in her core, a greedy yearning for the girth of both of ‘em to be in her in any way.
“We gonna play a quick game of bones. First person to 50, get to pick how this is goin’ down. Imma even be a little nice. Ya win a five ya get five. Ya win a ten, ya getta ten. Ya win a 20, ya getta 20.” Annie tells them both.
“Get 20 of what, Woman?” Smoke asks and Annie smirks.
“20 seconds to prove something.”
Both brothers stiffen at that. She may as well have told two lions that the bone yard decided whose gonna run priderock. Annie looks at both of them with side eyes and both give matching deep grunting groans as she tightens her grip on their shafts to command attention. To command the reaction she wants.
“Yes ma’am.” They both say, it sends a pulse of pleasure through Annie’s pussy.
Smoke and Stack sit across from each other now. Smoke’s look of righteous fury and possession against Stack’s looks of sly satisfaction and fascination. Annie eyes them both with determined lust and hunger. She flips their old game over and mixes the dominos with fast hands. Stack scratches the old game, Smoke lights the discarded cigarette and makes a point to blow the cloud straight over the dominos and into Stack’s face.
“Ladies’ first.” Stack says as soon as Annie finishes the mix. She bites her cheek coyly and picks five.
“Childen next.” Smoke grumbles. Stack smacks his lips as the second youngest there and takes his five.
“Poppa’s last.” Annie teases. Stack gives a dry laugh as Smoke smirks through his selection.
“Big six?” Annie asks.
No one moves.
“Double fives?” she asks again.
Stack grins as he flips it out.
“Ten.” He says aloud as he writes down the O on the paper. Annie’s shoulder hitch as she tries to hold back a chuckle at the sight of Smoke puffing like a dragon.
“That’s ten Mississppis. Smoke, count ‘em.” Annie tells them.
Stack stands up, and comes to the side of Annie. She looks up at him with her doe eyes blown wide through lusty lashes and it makes him pause with a deep swallow.
“You need me to turn?” Annie asks him before he can say anything.
“7 seconds nigga.” Smoke grumbles.
Stack’ hands are gentle as he cuffs both of her sweat-damp breasts, palming them with increasing firmness, testing the plump flesh. Liftin’ em. Letting them drop so they bounce. Teasing the nipples hard with a roll between his thumbs and pointers. Annie’s hand goes between her legs to press a thumb on her clit as the stimulation makes her pussy wet, needy to be played with. Stack makes a show of giving her a big wet kiss that is more a clash of teeth then something proper. A taste of the tongue, Stack goes to glance over at Smoke with a prideful smirk but Annie’s smack on the side of his thigh with her free hand turns his attention back to her.
“Full attention soldier.” Annie commands him. Stack gives a nod, mesmerised by her before he backs off and back to his seat when Smoke barks out the last number to him. Smoke scoff, “Tiddy baby.” he taunts and Annie smacks her lips.
“Did you forget how you sleep? Play ya hand ‘fo ya piss me off.” Annie strikes. Smoke smacks his lips but plays a throwaway hand, Annie matches it. Stack’s forced to match it, all of them are crossed legged in the pressure. Smoke tosses another hand and Annie strikes with a smirk, linking a three with the two on the opposite side of the layout.
“Five.” Annie announces, watching Stack mark it before she stands. She circles the both of them, eyes scanning for selection on who’s gonna get her little bit of time. Annie dips her head down allowing only a few millimeters of distance, damn near hovering her juicy lips from either of ‘em. Cinnamon laced breath puffing temptation onto either of the brothers’ ears but never delivering.
Smoke lets out another tobacco cloud to billow over his lips as Annie lingers around the back of Stack’s neck. The elder watches with piercing jealousy as Stack inhales Annie’s scent and tips his head back for just a chance of her lips. Annie swerves back with a smirk as she makes her way over to Smoke instead. Annie’s hand cuffs his chin and pitches it up.
“Count ‘em.” Smoke growls as Annie lips damn near eat his down as they kiss. Annie hands rub Smoke’s neck as her man grips her ass and pulls her closer. Stack rolls his lips in as he watches the way Annie’s ass jiggles, the impressions of Smoke’s fingers into that softness, the way she drags her nails down the column of Smoke’s throat.
“Five!” He grits out and Annie hums. She makes sure to smack loudly as she comes out of the kiss. Swatting Smoke’s hand down. Annie smirks before walking back to her seat.
Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The three of them play.
“Your play, baby.” Annie reminds him.
Ten seconds - Smoke fingers into Annie for all ten counts until she panting.
Five seconds - Stack has Annie swirl her wet tongue around his tip.
Twenty seconds - Annie has Stack sucking her toes while she bites and sucks bruises into Smoke’s neck.
Ten seconds - Stack leaves hickeys upon Annie left breast and damn near a bruise with his grip on her right. All while she grinds down deliciously on his lap.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Teases and preludes to something truly sinful.
“Fifty!” Annie shouts as she slams down a double two that leaves her with the last ten points to win on the table.
Both men practically sit at attention with anticipation for just what she could have in store for them. Annie leans forward, crossing her arms and leaning on one of her hands as she looks the two of them over.
Annie eyes Stack’s mouth as her hand drifts over to Smoke’s thigh. The many tales Mary shared to Annie about Stack’s gift for eating it come to mind. While Smoke wasn’t a chump of an eater, his skills were better used for drilling into her and tossing her around then just praying to pussy. She liked to make Smoke twitch, the back and forth of control was critical to her.
“Elias?” Annie asks after another minute, eyes low as her voice becomes sultry. She starts to palm and tease Smoke’s dick with her hand while commanding him. Stack hums, spitting his toothpick to the side at the sight of Annie jabbing a finger down.
“You gonna defend your reputation?” She asks him.
With a shark-like grin, Stack sinks down off his chair, crawls under the table and pulls her legs apart. Smoke blink harshly, flinching at Annie’s talented hand and the bump of her thigh now against his. He watches her gasp, head thrown back as Stack wretches her panties to the side and digs his nose straight in to get a smell of her pussy. That sensitivity Smoke has been building up all night putting her on edge. Annie places one hand on the back of Stack’s head, fucking up his waves as her fingertips push through the tamed curls. Her other beacons Smoke with a single curl of her pointer finger.
“Stand.” Annie pants before moaning and trying to buck forward in her chair as Stack starts licking into her. Stack’s arms snake around her hips, pulling a leg over his shoulder to lock her in place so he can drill his tongue in deeper. His mustache scratches against the soft skin of her inner thighs making lightning crawl all over her down there when his lips peck her pearl.
Smoke does as instructed, standing up as he frees dick from his pants, letting it bob out, hard and veiny as it taps against the side of Annie’s jaw. Smoke girts his teeth as Annie turns her head towards him and starts to lick up the side of his shaft. Smoke shakes his head with a hiss as she swirls the tip, his hand cuffing the back of her head.
“All this craziness you talked, a ‘course you want somethin’ down ya throat for it.” Smoke scolds her. Annie hums, a smile in her eyes as she gazes up at him. Annie hollows out her cheeks, and slowly bobs down him, small chokes as his dick jumps in her mouth. She slides back off of him just as slowly, ending with a wet plop and whining moan. She clutches over Stack's head while he teases the pearl of her pussy properly with his tongue until her back arches as she squirts down the mouth muscle.
“You…fuc… you gonna shut me up?” She asks Smoke though broken moans.
Smoke is swift to swing his leg over so he straddles her in a stand and slips dick down her throat.
Both moan aloud at the movement, Annie’s free hand claws at his hip and up his torso as Smoke start to fuck her face with a swift and damn near rough pace. His nails tangle into curls at the nape of her neck while he guides her head. Smoke swears at the sloppy noises the keen fromAnnie as she loses rhythm and bucks further onto Stack’s tongue. Her legs shake and threaten to damn near locking him in as she comes closer to orgasm. Stack hikes her leg up higher upon his shoulder and adds his thumb into her as well.
Smoke gets tight as Annie uncontrollably hums her moan of pleasure out onto his shaft. Smoke wipes the tears off her cheek.
“Yeah, get the nut outta her bruh. I’m tryna see her cry on my shit.” Smoke growls. Smoke deepens his pace and Annie wraps both arms around his waist, nails digging into his lower back as he fuck her mouth.
Annie cums apart as Stack spells his name inside her, pussy flowing down her chin to dribble onto his chest. He keeps lapping it up as Annie shivers and her knee presses onto the side of his face. Smoke comes with a swearing shout. Annie whimpers with leaky tears as she swallows it in the midst of her own sex high.
Stack takes a prize and crawls out from under the table, the front of him wet with Annie. He’s just in time to look up and see Smoke step out from in front of her. He takes in her heaving chest, blows out eyes, curls coming loose as she gasps with sticky lips.
“You tryna see if we taste the same too, Annie-girl? I promise I’m sweeter.” Stack flirts as he whirls her panties around on his finger. He then balls it up and starts to wipe off his beard, his dick jumps at the fucked out look on Annie’s face. Annie stands, a stagger in her step for a moment that Smoke corrects. She pats his arm with gratitude before gesturing to him to sit back down himself. Smoke obliges, sitting with a heavy sigh as he watches her walk to the doorway, she looks over her shoulder and starts to roll down the straps off her nightgown..
“Fuck.”
“Lord, Ann!”
Annie giggles as the crumbled fabric falls to her feet and she stands naked before them both.
“Round twos in the bedroom boys, I gotta lay down. First one there is first one in.”
