. ۪ ֗ “ 𝑁𝑜—𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ”⋆˚🫧

. ۪ ֗ “ 𝑁𝑜—𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 ”⋆˚🫧

PART 2 • [this fic has been split into two parts]

21k! CONTENT WARNING (MDNI) • phone s*x (mutual m*sturbation), edg*ng, unprotected s*x, p -> v s*x, b*ckshots, squ*rting, choking, c*rvix kissing, rough consensual s*x, dominating male character, possessive behavior/talk, dummification, foot f*tish, minor size k*nk, tummy bulge, heavy use of dirty talk, use of profanity, nicknames (Mami, Mama, Papa, Pa), use of the n-word (all characters & Author are Black) • INSPIRED BY THIS POST • CHARACTER VISUALZ

PART 1 HERE ->

DRAGGING A HEAVY HAND DOWN HIS FACE, Sito releases a long-held sigh.

Parked up outside of the auto body shop, he sits in his car with heavy eyes. His cousin is still inside, in a screaming-match with the mechanic about a change in the previously discussed price.

He could only last about two minutes before he had to leave the confrontation behind for his peace of mind.

With dead eyes, he stares blankly ahead. The sun has long since went down, leaving the sky a dark blue. He should be in bed right now, laid back, watching Cimani go on and on about some random topic plaguing her mind at the moment.

He hopes she didn’t forget his call. 

He kisses his teeth. “Matter fact … ‘cause I know she forgot—“

His fingers move as he speaks to himself, tapping to get to her contact. 

For a minute, the FaceTime call rings out until ultimately going unanswered. His face twists up at that.

So, with an even worse attitude, he calls again. Because, who does she think she is, ignoring his call? That is not what they do.

His phone rings out for some time. His frustration is growing. Just as he’s sure the call is about to drop, the phone chimes as it’s answered.

It’s quiet for a few seconds as the call connects, then he hears her shifting around in bed.

“Hello?”

He looks at the screen, her camera turned off.

“So you forgot you had to call me?”

“No?”

Her voice is soft and quiet.

“Why your voice sound like that? You sound like you just waking up.”

There’s a long delay before she answers. “M’not…”

“Yeah, aight.” He stares at the screen, eyes narrowing in a squint. “Why am I looking at myself? I FaceTimed you. This ain’t no regular call.”

A soft, sound comes from her end of the call. He’s not even sure he could tell what kind of sound it was.

“I don’t wanna t-turn it on.”

He lifts a brow. “You want me to hang up? I’m bothering you or something?”

A short breath leaves her. “You’re n-not bothering me.”

“So turn your camera on.”

“Sito—“

“Yo, quit acting like this before I hang up. Forreal, ‘Mani. You sure you not just waking up?”

“Oh my God … I’m not.” There’s some shifting going on, picked up by the mic. It’s about a minute before her camera finally turns on.

Sito finally sees her in her bonneted-glory. And she’s as barefaced as ever, noting in particular how low her eyes are. 

“What day you booked the lash appointment for?”

“Um… “ Her eyes flutter as she pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth. She exhales. “S-Saturday.” There’s a tiny inflection in her voice.

He expects her to go on a tangent about the style of lashes she’s getting, even complain about how long it takes to get them done—the usual whenever she was about to get them done.

But, his expectations are subverted with her short answer and lack of an explanation.

“Okay?” He says, brows pulled together in confusion. “How much is it?”

“Mh—I don’t … I-I think $120?”

“You think? What you stuttering so much for?”

“M-m’not,” she—whines? Not only that, but her eyes almost kind of … roll?

What’s going on?

“You good?” He asks, more confused than concerned.

“Yes … J-just … tell me about your—um … your errands.” The last few words were breathed out in a rush, like she couldn’t hold them in anymore.

He kissed his teeth, his gaze switching to somewhere out of the window. “Haircut was cool, not much to complain about. Y’know, Ray did his thing,” he smiles. 

But his smile is quickly wiped away by the reminder of his current predicament. “But, Jahmere in there, arguing with the fucking mechanic about the price.”

“Mhm…”

“I’m tryna get the fuck outta here. Granted … the nigga is overcharging him, I’m not even gon’ lie. Like, I’m telling you, ‘Mani, he charged him odee for some crazy ass shit—“

His brows pull together as her breathing grows heavier—louder—in the mic. He has to do a double-take. Nevertheless, he continues with his story.

“Uh, they been screaming in there for about a hour now. I wasn’t even tryna hear all that, forreal. So,” he rubs a hand down his face. “I came in here—“

“Hh—mhm.”

He blinks. Slowly, Sito turns his head to finally look at the screen. Cimani is nowhere in sight. Instead, he’s staring up at her dark ceiling.

He expects a quick apology, an explanation—even a small joke from her about the oddness of her breathing. Yet, for the next few seconds it’s nothing but silence.

That is, until he hears it. 

It’s so quiet, it’s really a miracle that the microphone even picked it up; tiny splishes of water growing, almost drowning out the soft squishes of wet, slippery skin.

He angles his phone away from his face, just so she won’t catch it when he hides his mouth with a closed fist. Because there’s no way…

He presses his lips together, trying to keep a grin at bay. His call had definitely interrupted something.

Slowly, he inhales, trying to settle himself. “So, uh … you sure I’m not bothering you?”

Her exhale is loud, he can tell she had breathed out through her mouth. “Hhm—no.”

“I’m not?”

“No, Sito.”

The frail tremble in her voice does something to him. He inhales deeply.

“Aight, I’ma trust you… When you get your lashes done, get that wispy shit. That’s what you had last time, right?”

“Y-yes—“

A whimper hits his ears. 

“Aight, I’ma send you the money.” He licks his lips, looking at the still screen. It takes him less than a minute to send the Apple Cash. “You got it?”

“I-I don’t know.” Her voice is soft, almost whiny.

“Just check,” he begs softly.

She whispers something, but he doesn’t hear it too well. What he does hear is a slopping sound, and he can imagine her fingers, decorated with acrylic, pushing through the mess she’s created. Running through her lips to rub at her sensitive clit.

There’s a soft mewl this time.

“O-okay,” she pants. The camera is jostled around before he finally sees a peek of her bonnet again. “I got it.” Her voice wavered. “Thank you, Sito.”

He bites at his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from grinning any harder.

“You good, Mami.”

Another whimper. He can tell that she’s trying to keep quiet.

“You know you deserve it.”

Again, he hears what she tries so hard to hide: Plap, plap, plap. Like she had just laid three, hard slaps on her pussy.

He swallows, instantly reminded of the dryness in his own throat. There’s a hidden desire for a taste of something wetter. His heart is pounding in his chest.

“Lemme see your nails.”

“S-Sito—“

“Nah, you didn’t even show me when you got back in the car. Lemme see.”

It’s quiet on the other line for a few seconds. There’s no movement.

“Cimani.”

No answer.

He kisses his teeth. “Quit making me ask so many times.”

“Shit … h-hold on—“

There’s some fumbling with the phone before it’s finally picked up. Apprehensive, she lifts a hand to the camera, showing off her brand new nails. 

And as Sito looks at the deep blue acrylics, he notes how shiny they look. 

Glistening, even. 

Wet.

He can’t help the sick chuckle that leaves him. “Oh my fucking God,” he mumbles into his hand.

“D-do you see you it?”

He licks his lips, enjoying too much the desperation in her voice. “Yeah… I like ‘em.”

The hand disappears shortly after, and the screen goes dark.  It’s quiet once again. Well … almost quiet.

That soft, creamy sound is picked up by the mic again. He can tell her hand is moving slow. Probably rubbing slow circles against her clit.

“You like them?”

“M-mhm … yeah.”

“Knew you would.” He rubs the knuckle of his thumb into his lower lip as he eyes the screen. “Should’a just listened to me when I first told you to get ‘em.”

He wishes she would show him something. Even if it’s just her face.

“But that’s just you being a brat.”

He can hear her breathing pick up. Another minute of silence passes by.

“Your hair.”

“What about it, Mami?”

The broken sound that leaves her makes his dick jump.

“Wanna s-see it.”

Without another word, he clicks on the light for her to see. In the camera, he bows his head to show off the fresh line up.

“It’s good, right?”

“Mhm.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and that creamy sound seems to get a fraction louder.

“L-looks so good, Pa.”

Her words were a soft moan. He knows she didn’t mean for that to slip. She’s caught up in the moment.

And he doesn’t mind one bit, as he’s got a hand gripping on his dick. A quick glance out of the car window ensures him that there isn’t a soul outside to catch him. It’s not like they would see him anyway, not with his tints.

He sits up in his seat, gripping his phone a bit tighter.

“That’s my name now?”

Her breathing is heavy, even if she tries to hide it. “Fuck … s-sorry—“

“Are you?”

No answer.

Softly, he kisses his teeth with the shake of his head. “Stop playing, ‘Mani.”

“W-what?”

“Stop playing with me, Cimani.” 

She’s quiet again.

“Answered my phone call while you playing with your pussy.”

He swears he hears a tiny gasp.

“Least you could do is lemme see it … know it’s mine, anyway.”

“Sito—“

“It was just Pa. What happened?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t get shy on me. You was just playing with her, all loud in the mic,” he chuckles. “Shit was cute, though, I’ll give you that.” 

He doesn’t have a hand in his pants yet, but he’s about two seconds away from doing so. “Put her on camera.”

There’s a bit of shuffling, but it only takes a couple of seconds before he sees her: puffy lips taking up his screen. Freshly done fingers spread her open for him to see pretty, gummy pink walls squeezing in on themselves. 

Her cunt dribbles a cloudy, sticky sap.

He shifts in his seat, feeling on himself through his pants. “She always pretty like this?”

She only moans in response. Her clit jumps with another clench.

“Them long ass nails, bet you can’t even play with her right.”

There’s a whimper. “I can’t,“ she whines.

Finally, Sito unzips his jeans, slowly slipping a hand underneath his boxers. “Lemme see how you been playing with her.”

Her middle finger dips into her honey pot, swiping up a dabble of her pearlescent goo. It’s sticky, stringing between the opening of her lips and the pad of her finger.

As he watches, he runs his hand down his length before holding himself at the head.

“She drooling, baby.”

He sees her other hand pulling a leg back. Hand between her legs, her fingers pull together. This resume a gentle flow as they rub against her clit.

Which is so small. In fact, by the looks of it, she can really cover her whole pussy with just a hand. And as far as he remembers, Cimani’s hands aren’t big at all.

He almost coos, watching her work her little cunt until it sputters out a release from overstimulation.

His hand tightens around his dick as the thought of him stretching her out plays in his mind.

“Couldn’t wait to mess up them nails, huh?” he asks. “Them nails I just paid for.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Nah, you cool, baby. It’s cool. Lemme see how you did ya toes.”

He swipes his tongue over his plump bottom lip just as he passes his fist over himself.

The camera is pushed further back, probably leaned up against the bulk of her sheets. It happens so fast, it’s like he blinks and she’s back in the screen—legs pulled back and spread once more. 

And just above, on either side of her, her toes are curled rather cutely. The fresh acrylic on them is shaped in perfect squares, every last one of them a gentle pink.

“Fuck,” he whispers, twisting a hand over himself as more blood rushes south.

“W-what else, Pa?”

Oh, that got him. Something about that soft voice and her asking him—he’s high off of this fantasy-come-to-life.

“Keep playing with her,” he says, voice ragged.

She listens, no questions asked. As her fingers swipe back and forth over the swollen bud, pushing through puffy lips, he tries his best to mimick the pace at which she goes, on himself.

“You so pretty, Mami. How many times I gotta tell you that?”

The question is rhetorical, his mouth just running as his body breaks down.

His shoulder twitches, he sinks further in his seat. “Pretty ass lil’ pussy.”

With low eyes, he watches her cunt clamp around nothing every few seconds the longer she goes. Her hips twitch as they begin to roll against the air.

“Bet you if was there, I could give her what she really need.”

“Please,” she whines.

“She deserves some good ass dick, don’t she?”

As her fingers flick over herself faster, his hand, too, speeds up.

“Y-yes—“

“How long it’s been? Hm?”

“I … f-fuck—too long,” she hiccups.

Another broken moan falls from her right as her hand freezes. She’s still for a second, before she lays two quick slaps to her clit.

Soft white globs ooze from her, slipping down the terrain of her lips to the stained sheets below.

“U-uh … ffuck!”

She reaches down to scoop up some of her release, spreading it over herself.

Her lips shine like they’ve been glossed, a tantalizing view.

“Keep going for me,” he mumbles, still working himself.

Despite crying out at the overstimulation, she continues. She just keeps rubbing and rubbing.

“Oh, God,” she mewls. Her pussy clenches tighter. “Mh—Sito,” she warns.

“That ain’t my name.”

“I … I—“

She flutters twice, pink walls pushing out for him to see. Then, crystal clear water trickles from her pussy like a water fountain. Her stream gains a bit of height, even hitting the camera as her body bears down.

He can hear the cushioned pattering of her release against the sheets, like rain hitting a roof.

“Shiiit…” He watches in awe. “She get wet like that?” 

A soft, broken moan leaves her as she rides out her high, still rubbing her abused clit until the stream dies down.

When she’s finally done, her soft pants are all picked up by the mic.

“Fuck,” he groans out, a lazy smile on his lips. He’s still got a hand on his dick, having stopped to focus on her.

A gentle silence settles over the call. He looks at the screen. For a moment, everything is still. 

She’s so quiet, he starts to question their connection.

“Yo, ‘Mani,” he calls out.

No answer.

As he opens his mouth to call her again, a soft chime sounds.

She hung up.

Dick in hand, Sito feels like a clown as his face morphs into an expression of confused irritation.

“The fuck?”

ᥫ᭡

HER HEAD REMAINS DOWN as the pads of her middle and pointer fingers press into her temple. There’s a faint pulse there.

As her other hand cradles the cup of tea she prepared for herself, she struggles to even lift the cup to her lips. 

If it isn’t one thing, it’s the next. Last night’s phone call plays over and over in her mind—the second-hand embarrassment paralyzing.

How, in her right mind, could she ever think to do that?

Yeah, he’d caught her at a bad time, but she could’ve hung up. He even asked. 

Why couldn’t she just call him back? What about that felt so thrilling to her that she just had to continue?

He enjoyed it, she’s not stupid enough to ignore that part or even pretend to be oblivious to it. 

Actually, it’s not even all that hard to see that where they stand is as a little more than just friends.

But she hadn’t wanted that to change. Not so soon. Not with everything so unsure in her life right now.

Can she even handle a relationship with Sito? She knows she likes him, the crush has been there for a long time. Hovering in the near-distance. 

Does he feel the same way, is the question.

As she thinks back on how seamlessly he switched up last night, pulling out the dirty talk with no hesitation, it makes her wonder: is this just lust for him?

How seriously does he take her?

Cimani’s never been one to think of Sito as a slut. In fact, the only reason she’ll ever know of a girl he’s talking to or hooking up with is by accident (or snooping). He doesn’t discuss his sexual or romantic life with her, not since high school, honestly.

She can respect that about him, not being a pillow-talker. At the same time, though, Sito doesn’t ever really talk about much that doesn’t pertain to what’s between them.

Even if she can say that she’s known him for years, she doesn’t know everything about Sito. The vagueness scares her.

A heavy sighs leaves her as she finally raises the cup to her lips. The taste of lemon barely touches her tongue when there’s a knock at her door. She freezes up, staring at the door with widened eyes.

She’s not expecting anyone, she never really does.

More knocking.

Carefully, she sets down her cup. On her way to the door, the knocks grow hastened. When she gets close enough, she even hears the faint sound of one kissing their teeth.

The word “fuck” is mouthed quietly.

“Don’t act like you not there. You know we still share locations.”

She throws her head back with a silent groan and the roll of her eyes. Regaining composure, Cimani takes a deep breath before finally unlocking her door and pulling it open.

It’s like coming face to face with your worst nightmare and your greatest dream at the same time.

“I was ‘bout to say, I know you not gonna make me start yelling for you out here.”

She blinks, trying to make sense of the visual before her; Sito stands with an arm at his side while the other is curled around a big bouquet of flowers.

Pink peonies—her favorite.

He’s beaming, solid gold fronts cover his top and bottom row of teeth. And at his feet are several brown bags of groceries. She stares at them for a while. 

The nearest Trader Joe’s is twenty minutes away from her apartment.

She looks back up at him, unable to even process the wide grin on his face.

“Took me like three trips to bring all these bags here. Y’know, I didn’t wanna—“ he pulls the bouquet from the crook of his arm, showing them off. “—crush the flowers.”

She blinks again.

His smile dims a fraction as he looks off to the side. “So … you gonna let me in or…”

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“Okay, ‘Mani—at least take the flowers.” His face falls with possible rejection. “I’ll take the groceries back if you don’t want ‘em—“

“Sito,” she exhales.

He stands at attention, elated to at least hear her voice.

“W-why … what is this?”

His groomed brows furrow.

“What you mean?” He looks around at all the things he’s bought, before finally looking back to her. “I’m just making sure you good.”

•

She helped him unpack in silence—or, the other way around. Neither of them were able to say much. 

When they had packed the final bag away, Cimani immediately sprung to her electric kettle, starting it to make him a cup of tea.

It’s already half-past eleven, but she needs to keep busy. 

She doesn’t even ask him what kind of tea he wants.

No need. She already knows. Black tea with milk, and two tablespoons of sugar.

As she stirs his cup, he watches her from the other side of her small island. Every single movement she makes, he eyes carefully, studying her.

Her skin feels hot under his stare. Clearing her throat, Cimani slowly passes him the cup. She doesn’t look at him.

“You’ll make me tea, but you won’t say nothing to me.” He scoffs. “C’mon, now.”

Finally, she dares to look him in the eyes.

“Are we gonna talk about—“

“I don’t think last night should’ve happened.”

His face alights with shock, brows raised and mouth open. “Oh?”

Inhaling deeply, her eye contact with him falters. “I-I don’t know why I did that. It was—that was wrong, I shouldn’t have even answered the phone.”

The worlds tumble out of her mouth, clumsy and loose.

“And that was weird, I just—I feel like I crossed a line.” Her face contorts in mild discomfort, her body beginning to fold in on itself. “I’m sorry—“

“Hol’on—wait.” A breathy laughter leaves him as he shakes his head. “‘Mani, you making it seem like you just assaulted me or some shit.”

“I technically did.” She frowns.

“I mean—“ He looks around, trying his best to come with a way to word his thoughts properly. “Did I expect that shit? Hell no. Did I enjoy it?” His gaze locks dead center with hers. 

“Sito—“

“Yes.” He even nods for emphasis. “I enjoyed it a lot. Matter fact, only thing I didn’t enjoy was you cutting that call short.”

Her heart skips a beat, but still her frown deepens. “You don’t get it.”

His head jerks back, confusion clear on his face? “Get what, ‘Mani? What else is there to get?” He scoffs. “You wanted to put on a show, and I wanted to watch—“

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up,” she groans, hiding her face in her hands.

She takes yet another deep breath, gathering herself to prepare the worst to come. She already fucked things up this bad, there’s really no going back after this. Not with the kind of person Sito is, he’ll never let this shit go.

“I … I feel like that didn’t mean anything to you.” Her brows pull in together, and she looks as if she confused by her own words. “Like, I get that it was … whatever the fuck it was, but like—ugh!”

His face contorts with hers, trying to follow along with her words.

“I-If you just wanna fuck after this, Sito, that’s not what I want. Okay? I don’t just wanna use you, or you use me, for a quick thing whenever we need to get some pressure off. I’m sorry if I even gave you that impression—“

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about?”

She squints at him. “What do you mean what am I talking about? I think I’m making myself pretty clear.”

“Uh—not really. ‘Cause honestly, you bringing claims to the table I ain’t never even claimed!”

She blinks, her face dropping. “Huh?”

For the first time in a few minutes, he actually cracks a smile. “Don’t ‘huh’ me. You heard what I said.”

Slowly, he rounds the island, forgetting all about the drink she had made him.

“Who the fuck told you I only ever wanted to fuck? I give you that vibe?” He gestures between the two of them, his expression teeters the line between confusion and offense.

“Somebody that just wanna fuck, gon’ get you all that shit I bought? They gon’ buy you groceries a-and get you flowers?” He takes slow steps towards her. “They gonna offer to give you rent money and pay to keep you pretty?”

By the time he chooses to stop, her back is pressed against the countertop. Her only option is to remain there, staring up at the man who only leaves a few inches of space between them.

“Cimani,” he chuckles. “Told you, you just like to hear yourself talk, forreal—I’on know what fucking impression I gave you, but I just wanna see you be put up.”

She can hardly swallow with his admission.

“I’on know how many times I gotta say that. I ain’t tryna see you stressed out for nothing. Not when I know I could make it easier.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between her own. 

“Do I need to explain myself anymore?”

Chewing at her bottom lip, she tries her hardest to wrestle her facial expressions under control. So far, it’s not working, because he can see the inklings of a smile on her face.

She shakes her head ‘no.’

Peering down at her, his gaze is focused and intense. There really isn’t much of a smile on his anymore.

“Now that we finally got that shit out the way, I’m tryna finish what you started.”

•

“That’s it … that’s all I need you to do,” he pants. “Just need you to take it.”

Her vision clouds as her eyes roll back, before her eyes squeeze shut. A rough groan rips from her chest.

His dick, wide and thick, stretches her out in more ways than one. As he peers down between them, where they connect, his dick twitches from the sight.

Her lips mare fully stretched around him, as she feebly clenches around him. Her body is filled to the brim—stuffed.

“She hugging me tight, huh?” He laughs, holding her open with one hand. “Tryna figure out what to do with all this dick she getting.”

She clenches at his words, earning another chuckle out of him.

It’s not even like she can respond—tell him to shut up … not that she wants to. Stuffing her big, pouting lips are Sito’s big, ringed fingers. Her tongue laves at them.

The only semblance of a response she gives, is a moan.

“Don’t gotta do no more thinking, right?”

“Mm—mmh,” she groans, the sides of her mouth leaking with spit. 

Her eyes flutter, only opening when he begins to drag his dick out of her. Her back was barely able to arch against the countertop, body pressed against the cold, hard surface.

“No more thinking,” he coos. “Not when you got all this—dick in you.”

He slides back in, pushing all of those inches up against her cervix. From the small underside of her stomach that he barely catches, he can see himself pressing against the wall of her stomach.

He repeats: pulling out just to push back in. Every revelation of his dick shows him that he’s covered in her glossy slick.

He’s obsessed.

The hand on her left ass cheek grips the little bit of fat tighter as he starts to pull her back against him. And still, he fucks back.

Wet fingers drag from her leaking mouth, to clutch the chamber of her neck. Each heavy stroke punches a new sound out of her.

“Oh—ffuck! … Aauh,” she shudders as he bounces her against him. Her breathing is tight and shaky.

“Pretty ass lil’ bitch,” he grunts. With each movement, he can feel his tip kiss her spongy walls.

She squeals, somehow tightening around him.

“Don’t know … how I let you think you was some fucking bum.”

She’s getting drunk off of his dick and words. Honestly, she can’t get enough of it.

“Just needed me to come remind you, huh?”

“Ye … yes!” she groans out. 

“Needed me … to come straighten you out … w-when you was being a fucking brat—“

His voice wavers only slightly as he uses more power in his hips. She spasms around him.

“Oh—fuck, stop doing that shit,” he pants. “Stop—doing. That—“

The sound their bodies make when they collide gets louder as he fucks into her with more pressure. She can hardly keep up.

The buckle of his B.B. belt scrapes against the floor, his jeans pooled at his ankles.

She’s screaming out, her body inching up against the counter.

The hand around her neck tightens as it pulls her back. Her back curls into an arch as he leans forward to crash his lips against hers. 

Their kiss is sloppy, lips sliding off of each other’s.  Well, it’s more like he’s kissing her. Her lips are parted, moaning in his mouth, loudly.

The sound of her ass clapping against his dick is louder.

“S-so fucking tight,” he gasps against her mouth. His stomach is clenching.

Both of their bodies are covered in a layer of sweat that makes their brown skin shine.

He can’t get enough of her, going back in for another kiss, even when he feels like he’s going to pass out from not breathing.

When he pulls away, their lips smack. He finally releases her neck as he pulls out.

Her body sags against the counter, her toned legs trembling under her own body weight. As her hands feebly grip the counter’s edge, she peers back at him, looking railed. Her slick back bun is past sweated out, decorated with flyaways and frizz. Even her lips are swollen.

Cimani’s blurred vision, mostly full of tears, tracks to between Sito’s legs. She’s staring at the very thing ruining her, wondering how her friend of almost ten years was carrying all this dick around and she hasn’t even known.

Long, thick, and deep brown, with a left curve as it hangs between his tattooed legs. He is, single-handedly, her demise.

He’s saying something, but she can hardly hear him over her own panting.

“You hear me?”

Slowly, she looks up into his lustful eyes.

“Said I’ma show you something,” he repeats.

Before she can ask, a warm hand grasps her inner thigh of her right leg. The warm touch makes her jolt, she’s sensitive.

Carefully, he lifts. And she’s not too sure where this is going, her brain too exhausted to catch on with ease.

In fact, panic doesn’t set in until her knee is put to rest on the cold countertop, level with her hips. A large, warm hand falls back to the junction of her hip and lifted thigh.

This new stretch, he doesn’t even need to hold her open to see the way her pretty pussy drools. Droplets of her wetness dangle from her slickened heat. The leg she balances on, trembles even more.

“It’s good for you?”

She nods, her head dropped between her hiked shoulders.

“Yeah … already knew that.” 

He takes ahold of himself, passing over his dick with ease as the skin is slippery. He comes to hold himself towards the tip.

“Already knew … you could handle that,” he exhales

She shivers, feeling the heat of his wide tip, kiss at her opening. It’s wet, gently passing through her lips. Tickling as it travels to her clit.

Stretched, her cunt flutters at the feeling, missing how deep he was. Lost in a trance, he plays with her, slapping the head of his dick against her clit over and over. 

Her back barely arches as she tries to push back against him. Holding his dick to her swollen bud, he drags a tight fist up and down himself.

“Shit…”

Slowly, he pulls back to her sopping cunt.

“Know you could take it… Know you could—”

A sharp gasp inflates her chest, body locking up as his dick slides back in with too much ease.

The stretch is greater this time, a stronger burn. She almost taps out.

“Fuck, she squeezing me,” Sito groans out. His fingers grip the fat of her hip tight. “Know you feel that shit,” he hisses.

Her eyes roll back to the whites, feeling him reach even deeper than previous. Before she can even moan out, her head is pushed to counter, held down as she begins to fuck her again.

“This … all I w-was tr-tryna … give you, Mami.”

Her pussy hugs him extra tight at the mention of that name.

“Just some … good. Dick.” Every sentence is punctuated with a sharp thrust. “And … make sure you taken care of.” 

Her mouth opens, but there isn’t a sound leaving it.

As he picks back up to a steady pace, her pussy lets go around him. All of the friction has packs her sticky release into a creamy froth at the base of his dick. 

A sharp smack is laid to her asscheek, his heavy hand gripping the little bit of fat immediately after. 

She doesn’t even have it in her to jump from the rough hit. Instead, she just flutters around him.

“This lil’ shit drive me crazy,” he slurs. “This lil’ ass booty,” he chuckles, breathlessly.

Every time they meet, spurts of her cum splat against his pelvis.

“You’on even know … how—how many times I—“ He presses his hips right up against her. “—times I wanted to fuck ya lil’ ass up—“

Her gasp cuts him off as he straight rolls his hips, digging his dick into her drooling cunt.

“Si—Sito—“

She tries to reach back. She doesn’t even make contact with him; he keeps her wrist against her lower back.

“I know, Mami, I know.”

Slowly, he comes to a stop, pulling out just a few, thick inches. His other hand reaches down to readjust her leg, which had slipped some from the island. He pushes it up higher. 

“I know—”

“Augh—FUUUCK!”

Her voice scratches at her throat.

His shoves back in, hitting her g-spot dead-on. She crumbles against the island, gripping onto its edge with everything left in her.

Her ass jiggles cutely every time his pelvis collides with her, bouncing on him.

“All you gotta do is take it … take this dick, ‘Mani. That’s it.”

He raps a hand around her disheveled bun, yanking her head up.

“Don’t even gotta work for it,” he grunts in her ear.

She can feel it, her pussy creaming all around him. He’s slipping and sliding into her walls effortlessly. Every punch his dick gives to her cervix, knocks the wind out of her.

With how fast her heart is beating, she honestly thinks she’s about the faint.

“Ain’t never gonna make you work for it.”

She’s sniffling, her face a mess of tears.

“‘Long as you don’t give my pussy away.”

She shakes her head, lips parted and eyes squeezed shut.

“No, right?”

“N-no Pap-pa—“

“Huh?”

“No!” She wails out, feeling her standing leg shake under her. “Oooohh—uh! Fuuuck!”

“Yeah,” he smiles wildly, grills undoubtedly shining. “Ain’t no nigga giving it to her like this. Ain’t no nigga that’s—dicking her down like this.”

Following every thrust is a spurt of water, splashing down on the hardwood floor.

“Ain’t no one doing it like Sito, right?”

She cries out, unable to even form words as she twitches around him.

“Gonna stamp my name in this shit,” he swears through gritted teeth.

As sweat drips from his forehead, his braids have even started to frizz up.

All of this pleasure, all of this stimulation makes her toes curl cutely. And he catches it, the square shaped acrylics decorating them.

His hand releases her wrist to hold raised foot. He presses his thumb into the sole, immediately triggering another set of kegels off in her. 

The pressure of his thumb to her sole, and his dick against her cervix, drives her body insane. Like a reaction set off by pushing two buttons at the same time, she cums yet again.

The sound of water pouring against wood makes his ears perk up. She almost collapses from the pleasure.

“Pretty ass toes.”

He slows his strokes his focus zeroes in on her foot. She can’t even say that he’s giving her mercy at this moment, as each languid drag of his dick against her spot makes her bawl out.

“Cute ass lil’ feet.”

His dick jumps within her, a recent memory flashing within his head.

“When you put ‘em in the camera,” he huffs. “Right above this pretty ass pussy … damn near nutted.”

She only shudders. Her body spasms around him as he continues massaging her feet. And with that, his pace picks back up again.

“Fuuuck,” he groans out. “You so pretty, Mama.” 

Releasing her hair, he lets her fall back to the counter, watching how he fucks her deeply. His control is slipping from him, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“This shit all yours,” he pants. “This sh— … shit all yours—f-forrea—uhh—“

He doesn’t even get to prepare for his orgasm, but his body couldn’t hold back anymore. The first few spurts were buried deep in her walls.

His brain buffers before he regains enough sense to pull out, still nutting as he does so.

Laying his dick between her cheeks, it dribbles out the last few drops of cum, softening as he finishes.

“Shit...”

He stares, lost in a trance as he stares down at the beautiful mess they made. Her brown skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and his cum decorating her pussy and cheeks.

But it isn’t until she whimpers that he’s knocked out of it. She doesn’t even have to say anything.

So tired and spent, Cimani barely even registers when she’s placed on her back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her eyes are barely open, but Sito is all that she sees. Everything is so hazy. 

He leans down, pressing his chest to hers and he holds her close.

And when he puckers his lips to kiss her, her movement is automatic, immediately kissing him back although weakly. 

Their pecks are soft and sweet, almost too sentimental for what just happened.

And that makes her giggle.

He cracks a smile. “What?”

“My feet, Sito? What the fuck?” she slurs with breathless laughter.

He kisses his teeth, hiding his face in her neck. “C’mon, now.”

“I just didn’t expect you to have that big of a foot fetish!” 

Her giggles are music to his ears, pulling a tired chuckle out of him.

“I don’t ... s’just you,” he mumbles, uncaring of how feindish he sounds. Pulling his body up to look at her, his eyes run over her face. “You knew that, though.”

She hums, a dreamy smile on her lips. But as they stare at each other, her mouth falls into a gentle pout.

“You nutted in me,” she whines.

He pushes her fly-aways off of her face.

“My fault, Mami,” he says softly.

It doesn’t fail to make her pussy flutter again, the action pushing more of his cum out.

“Said I was gonna stamp it, though.”

Her faux pout lightens.

“I’ll get you the Plan B.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

Before any of them can say more, the ringtone of Cimani’s phone goes off. They jump up at the sound.

“My phone,” she says, sitting up on her elbows.

Reaching over her, Sito grabs it up from its spot on the island, closer to the opposite side. He hands it over to her, carefully.

For a second, confusion takes over her face as she reads the unknown number. 

“Who is it?”

She glances up at him. “I don’t know.”

Nevertheless, she decides to answer anyway.

“H-hello?”

Sito watches with great interest, the focused look on her face—threaded brows pulled together in thought.

“This is her.”

As the call continues, that look bleeds off of her face. It’s replaced with a bright smile.

“Yes, yes—I can come by today.” She sits up more, Sito backing up to give her the space.

“Two?” She looks at him.

Confused, he nods nonetheless.

“Y-yeah, two is good for me.”

“What?” he mouths.

But she only looks away. “Alright … yup, that’s perfect … okay. Okay, bye.”

She pulls the phone away, ending the call.

“Who was that?”

She looks up at him. “That was an apartment locator for that place you found. I-I think things fell through with their first option, so they considered me next. They asked to come by for a tour.”

His brows lift. “You deadass?”

“Yes! Oh my God!”

Throwing her phone down on the counter, she jumps on him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. Luckily his reflexes are quick enough—he catches her before she falls.

“Oh my God!” she squeals.

She pulls back, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Fuck, what time is it?”

Reaching out with one hand, he double taps her screen to get the time—almost one o’clock.

“How fast you think you could shower?” He asks.

“Fast enough.”

His lips curl upward as he gets an idea. 

“Shit, I think if we both get in, we could save some time.”

This sounds like a bad idea.

She can’t help but to mirror his expression.

“I think so, too.”

PART 1 HERE

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