Ch. 9 #3
“Yo’ spoiled ass taste good as fuck.” Speaking against my lips was cruel. It sent a slight vibration through them causing a chill to occur.
Smiling, I applauded myself for getting him off his square so fast. He was invested and so was I. However, I would be able to walk away with no remorse. I was hoping he could do the same.
“Make me cum, Black.” I wanted nothing more from him.
“The fuck you think I’m ‘bout to do. Rushing me and shit like I don’t know what this pussy wants,” he said slipping two fingers inside of my canal.
My walls were gently massaged as my clit was catered to.
I refused to lay back. Watching him absorb my fluids as they were produced was the best thing I ever observed.
My dark thighs against his bright red cheeks were the perfect view.
When he looked up at me, my heart skipped a beat.
This man was enjoying me and his expression solidified it.
It was nothing but pure satisfaction in his eyes.
As my tongue glossed my dry lips, his flexed up and down making my pearl the center of attention.
Those two fingers were still inside of me now curled giving my g-spot the kind of harassment a girl begged for.
We found a rhythm and stuck with it. My body rocked against his face with his moans being muffled underneath. I couldn’t ask for a better eater.
Whoever you eating on a regular is one lucky bitch.
With my walls contracting, breathing no longer stable, I knew what was to come.
He was a man of his word. I didn’t expect that to change.
The longer he held my pussy hostage, the closer I got to releasing that addicting substance.
My nipples became his point of torture as he sucked the life out of me throwing me over the edge.
“Fuuuuck!” I cried out as every ounce of cum was exuded. A handful of his locs were gripped and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he let me hear how gratified he was by the many moans he let slip.
When he sat back, I watched my fluids drip from his chin.
He wore a smile so proud, I almost regretted the choices I planned on making tonight.
Everything about this nigga had me in a trance.
From the way he looked at me to the way he ate my pussy off the bone, I knew there was a high chance of us switching places and me being out for the count.
“You good?” he inquired.
Nodding, I tried to rest and catch my breath but was quickly pulled back into his lap.
Somewhere in the mist of all this, he’d gotten undressed freeing the tool that would rearrange my guts.
I felt nothing but hard dick between my folds.
I couldn’t deny how good this nigga felt because it would be nothing more than a lie.
“Answer me when I talk to you Brat. A nigga asked if you was good?” It was hard to answer when my body was damn near craving more of him.
The physical contact was more than what I prepared myself for.
I went to nod again when the back of my neck was gripped and squeezed tightly.
“You a big girl. Open yo’ mouth, or do I need to help you with that, too? ”
“I’d rather you help me,” I said not passing up the opportunity to taste him in my mouth. Was I quiet and laid back? Yes. However, I had a side to me that made niggas fall in love and it wasn’t from how I managed numbers.
“Fuck Brat,” he whispered. I guess my response was enough to make him fold. “I’m ‘bout to fuck the shit out this pretty muthafucka.”
Lifting me up slightly, the thick mushroom head of his manhood was at my opening asking to be let in.
I glided up and down taking an inch at a time with his assistance.
Hands on my ass while he sucked on my neck, accompanied by him stretching out the one place that could never really be satisfied before him. This was a hell of a sendoff.
I gasped with each movement until I hit the base of his shaft.
Keeping my eyes open was a fuckin’ challenge at this point.
The pleasure this man provided along with the pain was like telling someone they won the lottery and couldn’t spend any of it.
I was impatient for the next orgasm because I knew this one would be more intense than the last.
“God, this feels so good,” I spoke softly.
“OG ain’t the one stroking this gushy muthafucka. Talk to me baby, not him.”
“Black…”
“Calling on me before I write my name in this wet shit… what you trying to do to a nigga, Brat?” he asked.
My toxic ass replied with, “Make you love me.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest before I was picked up and walked to the stairwell.
Each step he took had me clinging to him more and more.
We were being moved from the kitchen to the bedroom, and I was surprised his lanky ass had the stamina as well as strength to move from one place to another.
His dick managed to stay within my walls comfortably.
I wouldn’t let him slip out no way. How tight this pussy was, slip outs didn’t happen.
Once we were in the room, I was laid on my back and the stroking started immediately.
My legs were pushed back toward my head and the drilling was all I could endure.
The sounds of my juices being stirred had me smirking like hell.
All of this just felt too good to be true and too good to be stopped.
“This muthafucka talking to a nigga Mama. Why she coating my dick like she know me? Why she gripping a nigga like she don’t want me to leave her, huh? Make me love you? I got time today.”
That was all he said before pulling out, flipping me over, and entering me from the back. The way my ass bounced off his stomach, the way every vein that outlined his dick was felt, the way I could literally feel him in my guts…
Cheyonne, tread lightly. Black is fuckin’ the shit out of you, and I don’t think you can handle it bitch.
“Fuck, right there,” I cried out.
“I know how to make pussy happy Brat. Don’t tell me how to stroke this muthafucka,” he uttered.
His hands rained down on my ass every few seconds sending a sting through my body. It hurt so good that I didn’t want him to pull out. Whatever this nigga had, I wanted it. I was beginning to love the way he felt inside of me and greed was right behind it. Damn.
“Make me cum aga… shiiiiiit!” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I was squirting all over him again.
“Didn’t I just tell yo’ pretty pussy ass I know what I’m doing? You ain’t warn a nigga ‘bout this waterpark though. This what a nigga love.”
I knew you would.
In the mist of all this conversation, he didn’t miss one beat in pounding my kitty.
By this time, a euphoric cloud had surrounded us.
Nothing about this seemed out of place or forced and nothing damn sure made me seek anything other than another chance to cum.
I’d fallen into a pool of overwhelming desire.
Black awakened my soul with the things he did to my body.
I was silently pleading for him to fuck me like he genuinely loved me.
I could only imagine how much better the dick felt.
With a foot on the bed, he was thrusting inside of me like I was the one holding him hostage.
All of him touched my cervix repeatedly.
The bed sheets were gripped tightly as he long stroked my juice box.
He was in that shit so good I felt trails of my fluids seeping down my legs. If only he recorded the moment…
Black clutched a handful of my hair while fuckin’ me silly. I was pulled back to him with my back touching his chest and dick in my stomach. “A nigga ready to nut, Brat. Where I’m putting it?”
In me. Please nut in me. Girl, snap the fuck out of it. You don’t know him. Then again, who the fuck cares when he’s making you cum so much. YOLO bitch!
“I don’t give a fuck where you put it, just don’t stop fuckin’ me,” I moaned.
That same chuckle from before was felt as a vibration against my back before I was pushed face down into the mattress. The pace of his strokes fastened causing a tightness in my stomach. He went fishing for a gut-wrenching orgasm and I’d be damn if he didn’t catch him one.
There was no climaxing without me. I refused to let him finish alone. As soon as my walls contracted, his name was moaned as a sign of satisfaction.
“Blaaaacckkkkk!”
“I wrote it in cursive. This shit is mine, Brat,” he claimed with his warm sperm crashing into my waves.
I was breathless, too caught up in the moment to think straight, and extremely happy.
Being used didn’t seem so bad if the outcome was being treated like his favorite toy.
When he pulled out of me, I had to catch myself from pouting.
The separation was bittersweet. To go from being filled up and stretched out to feeling alone and unloved within seconds was mind blowing.
“Meet me in the shower, Brat, I ain’t done.”
Excuse me?
“I am,” I replied still trying to gather my thoughts.
“I’m not. You threw that good shit at me knowing what the fuck it was hitting fo. What? You need help moving or something?”
Actually, I do, but getting back on the dick you just handed out would put me out of commission and not the other way around.
Without giving me time to process anything further, I was being scooped up and carried away to the shower. He turned on the shower how I taught him and allowed the lukewarm water to drench our bodies. I already knew what was to come, and I welcomed it with open arms.
Time passed by and we’d moved from the bed to the shower every few hours not caring about the mess made.
It wasn’t until five in the morning when he finally drifted off.
I fought my sleep like it was the last bitch in the ring.
I had so many second thoughts about this move simply because over the last few hours, I felt like me and Black had gotten closer.
I mean, I had so much of his nut in me I could make a toaster strudel jealous.
Nevertheless, the time had come for him to get the hell out of my house and pay for the crimes he’d committed.
His arm was around my waist while he snored like a hibernating bear completely naked in my bed.
He was out like a light and that boosted my ego.
I knew I had some good shit, but I didn’t think it was laced with Nyquil for real.
Slowly moving his arm, I crept out the bed and out the room.
I too was in nothing but my birthday suit.
However, I kept a pair of gym clothes in the trunk of all my cars.
I did a light jog downstairs to the garage closing the door behind me.
So many emotions coursed through me at once that all I could do was cry.
Finally, this nightmare was coming to an end.
The car I hopped in was my 2025 Peanut Butter Camaro.
It was the only car in my garage with OnStar.
It was also the car the furthest away from the door leading into the house.
If I was to get caught, I would have enough time to at least press the button and alert the police.
The red SOS button was pressed, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off the door while it connected.
“Connecting to OnStar Emergency.” I waited nervously until someone was on the line. I swear I felt my heart drop when I thought I heard a noise. “This is Olivia Warner with OnStar. Where’s the emergency?”
“At 13 Cadence Lane. I have an intruder who’s held me hostage for days at a time. Please send the police,” I whispered.
“Is the intruder armed?”
“Yes.”
“Are you or anyone else in the house hurt?”
“No. Send someone now. I’m not going back in there,” I stated.
“Where are you ma’am?”
“In my garage, in the car. If I knew what he did with my keys, I would’ve been gone. He’s far from slow or stupid. Send someone now and please, no sirens,” I begged.
“Help is on the way,” she assured me.
Thank God. Black, I’m sorry, but this had to be done. People are suffering because of you.