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melaninpov · 2 months

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Wowww.. rusty my a** this was amazing and beautifully written. I love stories that I can relate to. Stories that I see myself in. Realistic. Reading this brought back memories of my younger self and my Jeremiah who later became my husband. I loved this from beginning to end truly. I laughed, I cried, I even got a little moist down there (tmi I know I’m sorry 🤭 but its true) I’m in love with the characters Jeremiah and Keila. I’m glad she was able to finally overcome the anxiety and ptsd that has suffocated her for years. I’m glad Jeremiah was able to forgive and never give up on finding her again. And the way he took care of not only her body but her mind and heart was sexy as hell. That’s a man right there. How does that meme go “he’s a good man savannah. A good man” Sis you did that!!! Thank you for sharing your work. I can’t imagine how long it took you to write this or the courage you had to finally post it but thank you. I’m definitely looking forward to more of your stories 💜 💜💜💜

This is one of those pour yourself some wine, get comfortable type of reads. I’ve seen many comments asking where these type of stories are and I’m telling you this is it. Yes it’s smut but it’s also fluff and a damn good one at that.

Chasing Forever

Pairing: black!male! x black!fem! OCs

I like to think of this as a choose your own adventure experience lol Picture whoever you want. I might write for specific people in the future. Can't say for sure.

Summary: College sweethearts get a second chance years later. There's some unresolved issues they need to work through before they can pick up where they left off.

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only, Minors DNI, the story deals with insecurities and the trauma purity culture helps to create. This isn't an attack on religion. It's simply an observation based on personal experience. There's also mention of toxic parenting, cursing, usual smutty behavior: NSFW, praise, oral sex (female receiving), female pet names. I know I'm missing stuff but you get the idea. If smut isn't your thing you might want to skip over this.

Word count: 14.9K

A/N: I'm not a first time writer but I am a bit rusty and nervous about posting in such a public way so please go easy on me. Apologies for any mistakes. There's always something I missed.

I do want to thank @megamindsecretlair for inspiring me to get these thoughts out of my head and for encouraging me with every update I gave. It's been well over a month but it's FINALLY done LOL Thank you to @melaninpov for your constant support as well.

Hope yall enjoy this.

Please don't copy or repost this anywhere else. Comments and reblogs would be appreciated.

Song I wrote the nsfw parts to: Usher - Tell Me

There should’ve been a law against exploiting familial ties for personal gain.

Italian food, wine, and a 90s R&B playlist had successfully delayed the filing of a class action lawsuit on behalf of any family member to ever get stuck doing the very task they vowed not to do. The benevolence carried in every sung note and savored bite of food was genuine. Keila could sense the rants looming over her and her two older sisters as they finished assembling wedding favors. It moved about the room like an ominous apparition, waiting for someone to realize they’d violated personal boundaries in exchange for freshly baked bread and pasta. It was simply a matter of when.

Maliyah, their oldest sister, was the first to air her grievances, skipping over the glaringly obvious problem to bring awareness to an injustice left to fester under their good intentions. Their brother was enforcing strict rules on bringing a plus one to his upcoming nuptials. Being married, the rules didn’t apply to her, but she was determined to procure them an extra invitation should they need it. Her second older sister, Noelle conceded to attending yet another formal event by her lonesome. For reasons that surprised everyone at the table, Keila abandoned her usual romantic cynicism to introduce something less depressing. It wasn’t too late to find dates. For all they knew their men were already invited. They both laughed at the possibility, building distinctions around the fantasy. They both wanted tall and handsome who smelled divine with enough commas in their bank account to retire them from their stressful jobs. Noelle preferred a man with a lean build and locs who shared her unwillingness to stay in one place for too long. Keila just wanted a professional teddy bear to dissect her favorite shows with. It didn’t hurt to dream. She wasn’t going to hold her breath when their longing amounted to nothing more than wishful thinking to better pass the time as unpaid employees.

~~~

Keila’s imagination had done an immaculate job prophesying the event two weeks prior. She wasn’t the least bit prepared to hear her name being called while standing in the buffet line at her brother’s wedding reception.

Her soul damn near left her body upon connecting the voice to a face she never expected to see again.

“Jeremiah?” She examined his smiling face to substantiate what her heart seemed to already know. The 21-year-old version she remembered was practically a baby in comparison to the man boldly making his own assessments. He’d packed on a substantial amount of weight and muscle in all the right places and was sporting a neatly trimmed beard and mustache that gave him a mature look without eclipsing his youthfulness. The deep waves he’d been obsessed with in college were replaced with thick natural curls evenly trimmed around his skull. It shouldn’t have been possible to improve on perfection. There he was, the embodiment of everything good neatly contained in a tailor-made suit.

Before she could fully register his presence, he was handing his plate off to her nearest bewildered cousin to commit both arms to sweeping her off her feet. She hugged his neck, squealing from excitement and the unexpected display of strength. Had she been in her right mind she would’ve questioned his enthusiasm. They hadn’t ended on the best terms, a tragedy she took full responsibility for. Over the years she never had the courage or the decency to admit that to him directly. Jeremiah didn’t seem to harbor any resentment. He was too busy letting his broad smile underscore his good fortune while she asked the important questions.

Her heart nearly exploded to dust upon finding out he was there with someone else. Good men were in limited supply. Finding a childless, attractive one capable of intelligent conversation was like hitting the lottery. Anyone with sense wouldn’t hesitate to make them a permanent fixture in their life. Keila had bragging rights to not only finding one but squandering him all in one lifetime with ample time left for regret. She’d earned this L and would accept it with dignity, preferably in the nearest corner. The desire to kick her own ass instantly morphed to elation when Jeremiah revealed his companion to be his god sister/cousin and longtime friend of the bride.

Keila loved her sister in law a little bit more for her leniency. Her friends and family made every occasion feel like couple’s night. They tended to forget how excruciating it was as a single person to constantly witness their disgustingly sweet interactions from the sidelines. At least Jeremiah’s god sister wouldn’t have to endure that fate with him there as a buffer.

When Jeremiah’s steps moved in line with Keila’s, loosening his bear hug to a one-handed grip on her waist she knew he’d forsaken his purpose for being there. Her family collectively fell in line with his plan, forgoing their curiosity to adopt his cousin into their tight knit family circle. Keila insisted he remain with his cousin at least until all the formalities were over. He grinned and stared her down earnestly, his brown eyes leaving no doubt that he intended to follow her anywhere she decided to go. She took a step forward to prove she wasn’t moved by his antics. The earthy scent wafting off his suit jacket reduced her to a love struck girl keen on agreeing to anything. He’d made her swoon often throughout their relationship, never in a room full of people. She could feel the countless eyes ping ponging off them and Jeremiah’s expectantly raised hand in her peripheral. It took her longer than it should have to understand the gesture. Rolling her eyes, she relinquished her plate to him and led the way back to her table

Jeremiah’s confidence radiated off him with an unmistakable clarity for what he wanted but more importantly who he wanted. Keila used this newly discovered reverence to fashion herself into a worthy muse. With each step taken she absorbed his energy, reflecting it back for personal gratification and to help circumvent the discomfort in having her senses invaded in such a profound way. They were even now or more like it helped to pretend she’d wrung control from his dutiful hands.

All it took was a simple directive to leave the scales tipped unquestionably in his favor. She was too distracted by his warmth permeating the sleek gold fabric covering her backside to have heard anything beyond the words “Hold up.” With her fingers curled over the chair in front of her, she craned her neck backwards to better receive the message presumably intended for their ears only.

“What?”

“Hands off the chair Ms. Keila. That’s my job.” He reiterated his instruction loud enough for the entire table to hear. A million butterflies awakened in her stomach at once. Not one interfered with her goal to remain an obedient statue between the arms outstretched on either side of her. One plate came to rest at her place setting, the other to her immediate left. She refused to look up as he moved to pull out the chair behind her and pushed her toward the table.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded impressively calm despite her nervous inclination to keep her head down. She hated being the center of attention. She was also a grown ass woman with a purpose beyond her role as daughter and sister. Her soul echoed the sentiment. Adrenaline handled the rest.

She lifted her head to a proud angle and plucked the rose shaped napkin cradled from her wine glass to unfold and place in her lap. It might’ve presented as a stall tactic. Really, she’d been hit with another conundrum. Labeling him a friend severely undermined their connection. Referring to him as an ex would open the floodgates to more questions and drudge up bad memories. She wasn’t in the right head space for either choice. Like he had a direct line to her internal debate, Jeremiah introduced himself with a simple name reveal.

Keila could’ve slid underneath the table and died when she finally locked eyes with her mother and sisters all wearing the same cheesy grins. At the slightest provocation she fully expected their coiled lips to accommodate every inappropriate thought they’d been holding on to since Jeremiah scooped her off the ground moments ago. Her brother in law’s expression was a bit more comforting.

The protectiveness that all good men had for the women in their family was present. Underneath his observant gaze his smile looked more supportive, than amused. He gave a subtle nod in her direction to reinforce what side he was on and extended his hand to Jeremiah. With one less burden on her shoulders, Keila listened as Jeremiah, took the lead. When the dreaded question of how they knew each other was posed he answered without a second thought. He explained they met in college then proceeded to deify her with titles. She was his study buddy, his tutor, his companion for midnight snack runs, his accountability partner, the keeper of all his secrets, the anchor keeping him from straying too far off course.

She wasn’t the least bit surprised by his declaration. Jeremiah wore his heart on his sleeves. He spoke his truth freely under any circumstance to uplift those around him whether that be the kind older lady striking up conversation in the checkout line or the young girl sacrificing her beauty rest to ensure he aced his exams. Judging from the doe eyed expressions and dreamy "awws" from his newly acquired fan club they were falling in love for the same reasons. Keila took a more reflective approach and laid her cheek on his shoulder to replace the hug she couldn’t give since they were eating. The contact eased her into the scenes being replayed in vivid details behind her glossed vision. She considered it a blessing to have such fond memories encapsulated in her heart. She was afraid of wandering off the path he’d set and inadvertently shrouding the utopia in an unrecoverable melancholy.

"Ay, calm down Ke. I didn’t say all that to make you cry. I just wanted to make you look good." He chuckled.

“Shut up J. I was trying to be nice to you but since you want to be rude we're not friends anymore.”

"You've said that countless times before and yet here you are using my shoulder as a handkerchief. I think it's safe to assume we're friends for life."

A chorus of giggles induced her shy nature, pulling it from her belly up to her mouth where it pricked at the corners, taunting her with the one thing she refused to do, smile.

“Let me stop before she kills me…”

She made a mental note to kill her mom and sisters right alongside him. First, she needed to fix her face. She'd twisted herself in the opposite direction while still using Jeremiah's shoulder as a barrier. No one interfered with the separation and instead used it to slide in some last minute jesting to bond over. She pinched Jeremiah's ribs for having the audacity to join in but found amusement in the way he flexed under her touch. She pinched him again for her own indulgence. Her phone vibrating in her lap pulled her attention on to the screen.

Hooker is this the boy we used to sit up all night talking about?

Keila wondered how long it would take Noelle to finally connect what she knew to what little Jeremiah had decided to reveal. She bit back a smile from the excessive emojis being used and affixed an obnoxious chain of tongues to her one worded answer. Yes.

She forgave her sister's inability to not purr at an noticeably high volume mainly because she'd been holding in a similar reaction. Plus, it felt nice to share her excitement with someone. The very idea that she could potentially relive those nights with her sister filled her with a youthful giddiness previously exclusive to her college days.

Jeremiah shared more details about his life over dinner. He was an architect with a specialty in green architecture. It turned out all her rants about saving the planet had meant something to at least one person in her life. He’d recently left the firm he’d been employed with since college and started his own. They were doing surprisingly well in their field. He talked about his older brothers, his parents who were celebrating a wedding anniversary next week. Life had been kind to him in the years post breakup. She was genuinely happy for him despite wishing she could’ve accompanied him on his journey.

She was relieved when the focus shifted back where it belonged, on her brother and his new bride. The night progressed with her still very much in disbelief that she was in fact awake and living out her own life. Jeremiah became the messenger connecting her to reality with physical associations, tenderly brushing his thumb along her wrist whenever her mind started to drift too far, positioning his foot against hers to settle her nervous tapping when it came time for her to give her speech, whispering a “you got this” as he stood to pull out her chair and welcomed her back with a reassuring smile and confirmation of her success. It was impossible to be nervous when locking eyes with him made her feel like they were the only two people in the room. She wondered how she managed to function without him for so long and how she’d find the strength to figure it out once the night was over. Like clockwork he approached her from behind while she photographed the bride and groom cutting into their cake, his lips grazing her temples as he accompanied the song with a honeyed voice that rivaled Marvin’s.

Close my eyes at night

And wonder what would I be without you in my life

Everything was just a bore

All the things I did, seems I’ve done 'em before

But you brighten up all of my days

With a love so sweet in so many ways

He performed his second miracle when he lured her on to the dance floor, a third after coaxing her into the photo booth for pictures when it was common knowledge she had an aversion to both. It wasn’t until he led her outside that she finally acknowledged the magic that brought her into his orbit and his determination to keep her there.

They were seated on a bench so enamored with each other’s voices they’d become immune to the obvious chill in the air. Behind them a massive water feature cast a blueish purple glow across the terrace. Its flowing water provided an intimate soundtrack as they talked about everything.

He inquired about her job as a software engineer. He seemed most pleased to learn she was still drawing and writing. It turned out he was doing 3D renders and commissions on the side. They showed each other pictures of their latest projects and spent the next 30 minutes discussing their inspirations and favorite new artist.

“I still can’t believe the same guy who used to get offended whenever someone handed him a paper straw built a career on sustainability.”

“I still find paper straws offensive. But I also told you I’d give you the world one day. Since it’s nearly impossible to do I figured helping to preserve the parts you love the most was the next best thing.”

She pressed her chilled hands to her face to keep her cheeks from spreading any further. “You’re going to stop quoting lines from Hallmark Christmas movies to me. My face can’t handle anymore.”

“All of my lines are improvised but I’m pleased to hear they’re reaching their intended target.” He grinned.

“Oh really. What target are they reaching?”

Jeremiah raised a finger to her chest and lightly tapped for each word spoken. “Right here.”

His eyes tracked over her slowly in the way one might admire a painting. She smiled and shyly glanced down to endure his intense stare. Angling his head to keep her in his line of sight, he raised his fingers to her chin and lured her forward, giving her a second to process his intentions before his lips touched hers. All night she’d been coming up with her own lines. They were more like parting gifts for when the inevitable happened and the paradise they’d stumbled upon became an over-sized treasure box for priceless memories. She would thank him for making the night special, he’d kiss her on the cheek, they would exchange numbers and promise to call each other later. History had already established how that would turn out. She hadn’t considered this.

“Leave with me.”

“What about your cousin? You can’t leave her stranded to hang out with me.” She grabbed his collar for leverage as he pulled her closer.

“We drove here separately. I had something important come up and she didn't want to miss the ceremony waiting on me. Besides, she already has plans to chill with your people after this. She's good. Now quit making excuses and leave with me.” His lips consumed the reluctance she was known for, depriving her of breath and the ability to say no.

“Okay.” She whispered back and reached up to wipe the lipstick from his mouth. She needed something to distract from the uneasy feeling she received whenever she committed to an important decision.

“Okay.” He repeated, smiling against her lips, enticing her into another make out session. His elation was contagious and for a moment she forgot about her shortcomings, that she was incapable of giving him what he wanted. Eventually she allowed him to lead her inside to grab her purse and escort her back out into the night air to culminate their fairytale evening.

~~~

Jeremiah comically appointed himself God’s favorite once he learned they were staying in the same hotel. She considered his desire to get things ready for her, whatever that meant, the divine intervention she needed to realign herself.

All she’d done for the past hour was scrub her body raw in the shower. For a short while she did feel sexy wrapped in a plush towel, layering her skin in lotion and body oil to accentuate the boozy vanilla, praline fragrance she loved. The crimson red lace bra and panties set with matching garter belt had been an impulse buy collecting time in her drawer for nearly half a year. After deciding last minute on an upgrade to a luxury suite she figured it was the perfect costume to aid in her silly desire to prance around the room like a sexy mature adult.

She preferred the woman starring back in the mirror. There were no unsightly rolls to smooth out, the flesh around her middle was the perfect landing point for strong hands. Her thighs weren’t disgustingly too large in the absence of the coveted thigh gap. She exuded a confidence uniquely aligned to her define feminine. The red lace cloaking her brown skin had simply been given the honor to accentuate the masterpiece. She didn’t need it. Any perceived flaws rebranded themselves in Keila’s mind as organic amenities for the valiant knight braving her defenses, a soft place to rest awhile, to remain indefinitely. She craved the intimacy, silently grieving the missed opportunities to let it happen years ago.

Her reflection watched from the other side, silent and patient like an immovable beacon guiding her back to safety. On its lips the subtle evidence of a smile. It widened as the reminder took hold. Second chances did exist. She had been offered one tonight, accepted it with some reluctance and profuse inner coaxing, but she had initiated a path to redemption. For that reason alone, the outcome would be different. It had to.

She immersed herself in the reaction she wanted from Jeremiah. He would naturally focus on the garter belts. She wanted him to focus on the strips of ribbon stretched across her breast like an intricate harness and plot out the best way to remove it from her body without destroying it. Those salacious thoughts were gone the minute she covered them with the attire needed for the brief walk to his room.

The heavy wooden door was the last real obstacle standing between her and Jeremiah. Every second it took him to answer filled her lungs with a little more air to breathe. She checked her phone for nonexistent messages, frustrated that everyone in her family had collectively decided not to be responsible adults. No one had checked on her whereabouts, or even bothered to remind her that she still had options. Her sisters were likely too inebriated on fun and alcohol to notice she was missing. It was equally probable they had noticed her slip away with her handsome companion and were actively lending their support by leaving her alone.

Keila swallowed the trepidation brimming in her chest and rattled a muted beat against the hard surface for a second time. She could turn around and be completely justified in her decision to walk away. The longer she stood in the hallway, the heavier her current reality began to feel. It weighed down her stomach and dropped lower into the soles of her feet. Turn around. Figure out an excuse once you’re back in your room. The hands pulling her over the threshold were much stronger and faster than her ability to act.

“You forgot I gave you a key?”

She laughed nervously. “Sure did.” The air exited her lungs as she collided with his bare chest still damp from the shower and the towel presumably wrapped in haste to answer the door. There was R&B music faintly playing in the background. The room smelled of lavender and cedarwood, underneath the distinct smell of the cleaning supplies he’d used. Her inner clean freak was celebrating his attention to detail. The rest of her was too caught up in their staring contest to thank him properly.

Latching his thumbs under her jaw, he angled her head back and began exploring her mouth at his own pace. There was a hint of urgency behind the kiss almost as though another five years had gone by since they’d last seen each other.

“I missed you.” He whispered between feather-like pecks that left her weak in the knees.

“It hasn’t been that long.”

“No, it felt that way to me…I was afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

Jeremiah’s smile did a nearly immaculate job hiding the wound inflicted on him years ago when she abruptly removed herself from his life. His inability to see her as anything less than a guiltless angel was likely the only real flaw in his possession. His selfless nature couldn’t offer her soul absolution.

"It's my fault you had any doubts about tonight."

"I’ve already forgiven you." She believed him even when his eyes narrowed into a contemplative stare as though he were reliving the memory in question against his will.

Desperate to interrupt his torment, she lured him back to her affectionate gaze by the jawline, placing her other hand atop his chest in preparation for the words he needed to hear.

"That doesn’t let me off the hook J. I’m sorry for hurting you and for thinking leaving us unfinished was the better option. I wish I had gone about things differently."

He nodded and brought her hands to his mouth. With his eyes closed he pressed a kiss to each knuckle, drawing in a long thoughtful breath. She envied his mastery over the same emotions governing her life at every turn. When he finally lifted his eyes the sadness she expected to find was replaced with a playful determination to recover the mood they’d lost during their unexpected trip down memory lane. "I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself." Keila mirrored his smile, beckoning him with a raised brow to finish his thought. " Had you not shown up I was fully prepared to go back to your room and kick the door in"

"So you were planning on going to jail tonight?"

"You'd call the police on me?"

"Me? Baby this hotel is full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to call the police on the big scary black man causing a scene in the hallway."

"You aren't wrong." The visual of him getting hauled off to jail flared up her anxiety but at least it got them laughing again. "You’d at least bail me out right?"

"Of course. I'm just disappointed to find out you'd resort to acting like a caveman to get what you want. I thought you were smarter than that."

"So we're throwing insults now?"

"No," She grinned. "I’m just making an observation."

She was mid giggle when he bent down, aligning his shoulder with her ribcage to playfully deliver her to the couch like the caveman she’d made him out to be. Her shrieks filled the room as he tickled her into submission. "Stoooop. I can't take any more."

"Apologize to me" He growled.

She maintained her protective stance over her sensitive areas, fully expecting him to break their truce. Assuming she was stalling he lunged for her ribs again, inciting another wail through more laughter and heavy breathing. "OK. OK. I apologize Fred."

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "Who the hell is Fred?"

"Flintstone," Her straight face crumbled, triggering another wrestling match that ended with her hands pinned to the sofa.

"You think you’re funny with those corny ass jokes." His voice was lower than it had been. What little space there was between them had become a whisper against her lips.

"You’re laughing." She taunted back in a voice too small to belong to her. She wasn’t sure he'd heard her at all. Not that it mattered. Jeremiah had found a better way to communicate. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth, tracing his lips over the smile that somehow managed to survive the daze he put her in, almost like it was their first kiss all over again. He moved along her parted lips, deepening his passion with every breath. She failed to process being fastened into an erotic pose she couldn’t get out of, or why she would ever want to be free of it. All she cared about was the joy coursing through her veins and the gift in sharing the same breath after spending the last five years pretending she hadn’t missed him.

By relishing the intricate details, she inadvertently gave Jeremiah the permission to explore and conquer. He decreased the two-handed grip on her wrist to one, further emphasizing their size difference and freeing up a hand to do with as he pleased. In one fluid motion he pulled her thigh up his torso, aligning her perfectly over his growing erection. It was a delicious feeling and yet she alone doubted her qualifications to handle that unabated pulse with the care it deserved, to take him inside of her body and give it a home. She continued to ride the line between what she needed to do and what she wanted to let happen, imploring her body to move even as Jeremiah’s fingertips breached her hoodie, grazing over bare skin and lace, enclosing his palm over one breast then nothing.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I’m fine." She’d gotten so used to reciting the lie. It wasn’t until Jeremiah took hold of her trembling hands that she realized her entire body was shaking uncontrollably like she had been willing herself to spontaneously combust. His concern doubled in the silence, eliminating any opportunity she had to pacify his thoughts with a simple explanation. He was already taking responsibility for his presumed offense.

"I need a minute." She whispered. He graciously met the request, his large hand protectively clutching hers, unwillingly to leave her completely alone in the silence. She had underestimated the difficulty in adding words to years’ worth of disappointment and self-doubt. There was so much chaos going on in her mind, always a new question without an answer, something new to loathe and hide behind the walls closing in on her.

"It's been longer than a few minutes Keila. Talk to me please."

She gently pried away from his grasp and brought her knees to her chest, drawing herself and the memories springing forth inward, all the rejection, the insecurities from the weight she carried in her youth, the criticisms made in jest, the blatant cruelties spoken during miscalculated privacy. Every hurtful contribution, everything she fought so hard to keep hidden. Issues that she would address once she ended this fantasy. "I was a virgin when we met."

"Yeah...oh shit. You still are?" She tracked his panic as it manifested across his expression and felt like the worst person alive for ever making him believe he caused any of her discomfort tonight. "I got so caught up in seeing you again and when you agreed to come here I thought---it doesn’t matter. It's no excuse for crossing your boundaries and assuming you were comfortable with this. I’m so sorry baby."

"You haven’t crossed any boundaries Jeremiah. I’m just scared and I’m trying really hard not to be."

Her voice cracked. She immediately bit down on her lip to maintain control over the lump in her throat. A single tear bypassed her defenses. She didn’t have the strength to wipe it away before he noticed.

The couch shifted under his weight as he moved in closer, pressing his outer thigh against her in a gesture reminiscent of the one he used to calm her down at the reception. Her lungs expanded at his instruction and drew in breath to help clear the space to think without feeling caged in. "Can we figure it out together? I’m not letting you leave like this." He used his thumb to swipe the dampness off her cheek. She rested on his exposed shoulder for added comfort but also for the protection to speak without his eyes extracting the truth before she was ready to give it.

"Wanting you has never been the problem. One minute I’m fine. The idea of being touched doesn't feel like I'm committing a crime. I can let it happen and enjoy it. I forget how afraid I am of being close, of finding out you'll hate what you see. That you'll be disgusted by it...Having thoughts like this isn’t normal J. And now that I’ve humiliated myself, we should acknowledge the obvious. This isn’t going to work. No amount of time is going to change that."

The silence infecting the room was much worse that the anticipated resistance. A discernible tightness moved through his chest and neck. She deemed it a symptom of a private battle to keep his valid cruelties locked away. The possessive hold on her fingers warranted a different answer. Nothing would make sense until she posed the question.

“Have you finally run out of words to say to me? I wouldn’t blame you for being done with me.” She used her index finger to angle his chin down so they were facing each other and grew alarmed when his grip on her tightened.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“What?” She frowned. The emphasis on hurt swiftly provided the missing context. All his pent-up energy transferred to her, nearly driving her to tears for unknowingly leading him to such a heinous possibility.

“No, absolutely not.”

He stared for an uneasy moment to find the lie that fortunately wasn’t there. "Seriously Keila, you can talk to me about anything."

"I have been hurt but thank God I’ve never experienced anything close to what you're implying.” She watched the lethal intent recede from his brown eyes and began to massage his tense shoulders, kneading out the residual panic he’d conjured up.

"You scared the shit outta me."

"You scared the shit outta yourself mister. " She laughed and kissed the left side of his chest where his pulse had yet to quiet down. "But it's sweet you were ready to go full vigilante on my behalf."

He exhaled, deflating like a balloon. "I’d do anything for you."

It was a superfluous confession given what she’d witnessed. Hearing the words elicited a saccharine compulsion to smile until her face ached. "Then you're willing to murder figments of your imagination?"

“If I had to…Get over here woman. I need a hug." He gave a dramatic sigh, securing what he needed with a playful tug in his direction.

She obediently wrapped her arms around his waist and moved him into a gentle sway as she cooed and repeatedly kissed his face during breaks in his grumbling. "My poor big ol baby needs a hug to calm his nerves. I'm sorry for doing the absolute most. Bet you wish you'd left me where you found me."

Eventually Jeremiah put a stop to their antics, rearranging them in a way best suited for finding the answers safeguarded behind her insecure eyes. It registered on his face the second he found what he was looking for like a light suddenly being turned on. “So everything you said about not doing long distance relationships was actually this? You always intended to break up with me.”

"Yes and no. Our breakup felt unavoidable, but I could never bring myself to say the words. I just kept waiting for you to get tired of me and you never did. When you got the job opportunity I figured it was my sign to finally let you go. It was easier to blame the distance than it was to explain the rest."

He nodded and brushed his lips against her temple. "It makes sense now. You always had a criticism for every compliment I gave you. The PDA stuff wasn’t a big deal for me. I chalked it up to you being shy. Because you were celibate, we never had a reason to address everything else you were dealing with. Looking back there were signs I should’ve noticed, things I could’ve done to help you."

"You’re not a therapist J. It wasn’t your job to fix me." She countered in a tone that sounded unfairly harsh. Listening to him consistently accept responsibility for something beyond his control unlocked a new complex frustration, directed at him, but mostly herself. She would concede to there being no singular villain when it was clear they harbored a great deal of regret between them.

“That might be true but maybe you didn’t need a therapist. Maybe all you needed was for me to love you better and give you a safe space to figure all this out with me instead of hiding yourself away from the world, away from me."

"Or maybe I needed to accept my limitations and let you go. You deserve a woman at her best. Someone who’s sure of herself and doesn’t turn having sex with her boyfriend into a therapy session. It isn't normal to be this afraid of everything. There are better women than me for you to love. Find one."

“Ya know I had that same thought when you stopped taking my calls. It didn’t take long to figure out there wasn’t shit else out here for me. By then you'd already shut me out completely. I’ve been bargaining with God ever since."

His words stopped her dead in her tracks. She bit down hard on her inner cheek to combat the tremors so easily brought to life. "I don’t know what to say."

“Don’t say anything. In fact, how about you stop thinking all together?”

She frowned. He chuckled. "I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m merely suggesting that we take a different approach. Your way clearly isn't working. Since I’m just as miserable as you are, I deserve a chance to try things my way. I've compared every woman I've been with to you. I could cut my losses and settle for someone else but why do that when my heart is convinced that you’re who I'm supposed to be with."

Her jaw unhinged far enough to let one agonized breath encompassing all the love and grief contained in her heart for the man she loved. She’d prayed for this man, perhaps God had answered her prayers, throwing in the right amount of crazy to make him real. Surely the fitting response to incompetence was rejection. Cast her from memory and wait for God to circle the block. He’d chosen to love her anyway. Overlooking her flaws, he’d used his veracity to bridge time, whittling down five years to one day for the chance to pick up where they left off, gambling his life and sanity on a one-sided agreement. He was either an inexplicably foolish man with a torture kink or indeed God’s favorite. By association so was she.

Looking up from the floor, she worried her lip between her teeth, afraid that if she opened it again she’d paint the walls in vomit or go hysterical. "You’re crazy. I hope you know that. And I’m feeling very overwhelmed right now."

"Your feelings are valid. I did just tell you we’re soulmates.” He grinned. “All I really need you to do is trust me. Can you do that?"

"Yes…I’m not sure I’m capable of anything else right now."

“Good. I’ll get dressed and then we can talk."

“Yeah, sure…" It distressed her to see him make the transition from wanton to chaste so easily. She let the absurd thought die at its birthplace. Her triumph met the same abrupt end upon noticing Jeremiah’s return, unchanged and imbued with the same tenderness he left with, his motivation for being there indecipherable but unnecessary for her current performance.

“Did you forget something?” She smiled to conceal her latest betrayal. “Or do you miss me already?”

“I wanted to make sure we’re clear on some things. I still want you but there’s no way I’m folding you over any furniture after what you shared with me. You deserve better than that. I’m willing to wait all night or longer until we get there." He kissed her nose. "Now don't move. We agreed I wouldn’t be going to jail tonight." A strained smile broke through her embarrassment. Unable to resist its presences she relaxed her scrunched nose and pout lips. She could never stay mad at him and certainly wouldn’t treat him begrudgingly for acquiring a talent for seeing through her poorly constructed facades.

“I promise not to move. Now get dressed. I can't take you serious with your goodies flapping around underneath that towel."

An eternity passed in his absence. She filled it by nervously fidgeting with the strings on her hoodie, occasionally nibbling at them to preserve her fresh manicure. His baritone announced his return. She cataloged the difference starting at the black slides on his feet, followed the defined outline of immaculate quads beneath the dark gray lounge pants up to his firm stomach. The broad line of his shoulders and chiseled biceps filling out the matching long-sleeved thermal was a mouthwatering sight she leisurely drank in. How someone could manage to look sexier with clothes on was a mystery she wanted to dedicate herself to solving. Anything was better than having to sift through her bullshit.

Welcoming him back into her orbit was more of a relief than a burden as he consumed the space next to her, fusing their arms and thighs together. She aligned them further, tucking her head beneath his chin and slotted their fingers together. It could’ve very well been early signs of progress or simply her being needy. She wasn’t sure there was much of a difference.

"You ready for this long overdue conversation?" He chuckled and raised their interlocked fingers to his chest. She smiled and took refuge on his solid frame, nodding.

"I think so."

"Good. I figured we'd start with the most important question. Do you want to wait until marriage?"

"Not really. I still think it's the ultimate gift to your spouse. But I can’t ignore the harm it’s caused. Growing up my sisters and I weren’t allowed to date. Noelle was the only one to bend the rules a little. For some reason it was perfectly acceptable for our brother to have girlfriends. I can remember having a crush on a boy in my 6th grade class. He wrote me one of those silly letters asking if I liked him. I told my mom about it. You would’ve thought she caught us having sex.

My insecurities took care of the rest. I went from being the shy girl to the one everyone ignored or picked last because I didn’t fit the aesthetic boys liked. By the time I graduated I was so far behind everyone else. I’d never been kissed. Never held hands. Never been on a proper date or hung out with boys that weren’t family or from the church. I was too afraid to entertain the few that did show interest. I was afraid my mom would pop her crazy ass out of the bushes and embarrass me in front of the entire school. Or God was going to strike me down before she got there. It’s kind of funny now but she put that fear in me.”

“You wouldn’t be the first kid whose parents gave them PTSD. Have you considered sharing all this with your mom? Give her a chance to take accountability for her mistakes and help you break this generational dysfunction.”

“You couldn't pay me to say any of this to my mom. All she’d hear is that she’s a bad parent. I'm not in the mood to listen to her cry as she lists off everything she's ever done for me. ”

“Mama sounds kind of toxic.”

She laughed and poked him in the ribs. “I should tell your new BFF you called her toxic, but I won't.”

“You’re far too kind pretty baby.”

“Anyways…” She rolled her eyes and picks up where she left off. “I can't tell you how many times I overheard boys make derogatory comments about me to my so-called friends as if I was some mutant they’d never lay a finger on. It’s not like I wanted to be felt up and used. I guess I just wanted the validation. Hearing your family call you pretty is different than hearing it from your crush. When I met you, I was terrified you’d think I was a weirdo."

“Until you found out I was a turbo nerd who loved anime as much as you did.”

“Well you were the most gorgeous nerd I’d ever laid eyes on."

“That hasn’t changed.”

“Ahh I’ll have to respectfully disagree. I met one a couple months ago who invited me over to binge watch My Hero Academia. He was trying to meet up last week but with everything going on I had to postpone. I need to text him back before I forget." Jeremiah was failing miserably at hiding his disapproval. She stared him down with a more convincing blank expression than burst out laughing when he called her name.

“Let me stop playing with you before you break your jaw from all that frowning.”

He cracked a smile and snatched her over his lap. "That shit aint funny Keila." He mumbled into her nape.

“It is. This is the second faceless person you’ve tried to beat up in the past hour. You might wanna see a therapist." She grinned and cloaked his arms at her waist, moaning a little when his teeth bared down on her ear "Seriously J, my faith is important to me but I won’t pretend a lot of churches are filled with hypocrisy and double standards. They’re preaching chastity to the girls while failing to produce the husbands they expect them to wait on. Sex is some evil act you should never engage in unless you're married yet every boy I knew except for a handful had sex before they hit 18. They weren’t preaching modesty and checking their cleavage, demanding they cover up, making it seem like their bodies were leading men into temptation simply by having curves. I’m thinking it’s time I do what’s best for me like most of the population and hope that God really does know my heart. The world could end tomorrow. I don’t want to die a scared 26-year-old virgin."

"Wow. Never would’ve guessed my angel wanted to be a heathen like the rest of us. Let me find out you’re lusting in private."

“Jokes on you. I’ve already had those thoughts. But it’s safer there. I can have fantasies and stop them before they go too far.”

“I disagree. It'll always be safer out here with me.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because I know myself and my intentions. I know that I’d protect you from anything. I’d die for you without hesitation."

Her heart tripped over itself and landed in the syrupy exuberance lingering behind each question she asked. "You’re just saying that to get some pussy."

"I mean you’re not wrong.” He grinned. “I want that and everything that comes with loving you. But you aren’t just a means to pleasure. You’re the reason any of this shit I’ve gone through makes sense.”

She bared down on her lip, almost drawing blood in the process just to keep from turning into a water fountain. For added measure, she flattened his cheeks to squeeze any leftover declarations off his tongue. "You’re sounding like somebody’s husband reading his vows. My heart can't handle anymore sweetness. Just tell me you love me or hush."

“Thought I was a simp trying to get some pussy. Now I’m a husband. Make ya mind up punk." He thumped her bottom lip and flared his brows in amusement, waiting until the shock wore off to fold her arms over her torso and shield his face at the base of her neck. She huffed and whined but didn’t push him away.

“There might be something wrong with me. Anybody else would be soaked and bouncing in your lap after that speech." Jeremiah didn’t seem deterred by her assessment. He drew a breath inward. She felt the weight of it along her back. When he spoke, there was a palpable difference in his voice like he knew something she didn’t.

"You aren’t defective. You just require a little more care." Any rebuttal she wanted to give was swept away on his cadence and the meaning it held. "But I think I’m done talking for now. I want to hear from you." His fingertips traced light circles on her neck, snapping her loose from her daze.

“What do you want to know?”

Tell me everything going on in that pretty little head of yours as you were getting ready for me." He used her acquiesce to transition her from a comfortable sideways drape over his lap directly into the cradle of his thighs.

“Can I start by saying I’ve missed you…I was so happy to see you that I barely had room for anything else. I just wanted to be in your presence."

She felt him smile against her neck then the faint signs of a word left unspoken.

“Usually my impulse buys never meet my expectations. But this was one of those rare occasions where I felt sexy. I started thinking about how you'd respond when you saw me, what you’d say, what you’d touch first." Her voice drifted, prompting him to squeeze the fleshy expanse of her thigh.

“Don’t leave us at the good part.”

She laughed softly, wholly relieved to be facing away from him. “I was initially going to show up in a coat and heels but decided on something less cliché. Plus, I like to make you work." She teased.

“That you do love...”

“You weren’t going to take it off like a wild animal. Instead you’d savor every detail. You’d pull me close, breathe me in, kiss my neck. Eventually your lips would start to wander. Then you’d notice I was wearing your favorite color. Realizing that drives you crazy but somehow you wait until the very last moment to unwrap me like a present. One of those fancy looking gifts that you’re always afraid to tear into because you know how much care went into it so you open it slow. Hands first, then your mouth, and when you get really desperate you use your teeth."

She heard him grunt from somewhere deep in his chest. The hands resting idle at her waist were following the outline of her breast, holding their position for an instant then enveloped the weight of them under his palms. It wasn’t how she’d imagined his warm breath would feel through the lace covering her nipples. The reenactment invoked the same gratified moan. She failed to notice he'd unzipped her hoodie and removed it completely until his facial hair grazed her naked shoulder.

She purposely left out the part where she stood in front of him, both palms leveraged on his shoulder as he worked her pants down to her ankles. His way took a deliberately slower path, trailing his lips and tongue along the exposed skin of her upper body everywhere he could reach, teasing the neglected parts unfairly hidden under thick fabric. Worked up by that cruel variance she mindlessly accommodated his thumbs hooking beneath the elastic hemline to bring them over her raised hips. He kicked them away then used his feet to pry open her legs by the ankles. He kept me there, obscenely spread to the cool air.

“I had no idea you were hiding all this under those clothes. More proof that my angel needs to be let out of the cage she put herself in." She craved that freedom. Even with the words lingering at surface level on her heart it took some courage to retrieve them as easily as they’d left Jeremiah's lips.

“C-Can we try tonight?

“You’re already halfway there. "

He kissed her wrist and then laid her palm over his massively large in comparison hand to track his movements. Her stomach clenched when he descended on her inner thighs, whispering a touch along the crease, sweeping over the fabric covering her splayed lips. She nearly melted into a fizzling mess of nerves and creamy liquid when he pressed into her clit. Though brief, it effectively implanted need where it hadn’t been. She arched into his petting like a needy kitten too distracted by the electricity being emitted through his touch to intercept it with her shadowed grip. Then his fingers infiltrated her waistband.

All the progress they made siphoned down to a vice-like hold on his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. His knuckles flexed on her skin, grazing her pubic bone without invading the boundary she’d set.

“Tell me to stop and I will. First I want you to ask yourself is this the fear talking or you....Do you want me to stop or do you want me to keep touching you?"

Silence, then she loosened her grip. Eventually the answer he needed to hear passed through lips. "No...keep going— please."

He took the next step with the intent to preserve her sanity. With his mouth rested on her temple, he cupped her sex, letting her acclimate to his warmth, introducing pressure when it felt merciful and taking it away when she got too excited. She heard the message clearly as she bucked against the empty space restricting her from his touch.

Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it.

She decided to make a different request, one he couldn’t ignore. Bracing one hand on his thigh, she began to grind her hips, coaxing him back into a sensual rhythm of his palm kneading into her flesh.

“Look at you taking what you need.”

His voice was thick like the finger he pressed into her folds. She hitched on a moan, for an instant she feared she was on the verge of exploding into nothing before she got to experience everything he had to offer. "Shit."

“Fucking liar.” He growled into her neck. “You’re leaking." Switching positions, he guided her hand into the wet heat flowing like a tiny stream between her legs. It usually took hours of mental and visual stimulation to achieve the same outcome and even then, it never seemed to be enough. Her smile took up half her face, as she brought her soaked fingers up to her clit, thankful to have been made proof of his diligence. "I told you there aint nothing wrong with my baby."

His touch moved to the forefront again, taking over where she left off. The firm lines down her inner lips transitioned seamlessly into light circles around her clit and back down into a blissful pattern. She shuddered and sank into his chest, rolling her head back against his shoulder, with her eyes closed to shroud her mind in a protective darkness. Her fingers had moved upward and were flexed at his wrist to keep her from slipping too far into her thoughts. She needed to remember it was him touching her, not some phantom she’d dreamed up to get off. This was real, as real as the pleasure and need she oscillated between. Fear and nervousness were muted companions, briefly revealing themselves at notable moments; her quickened pulse whenever Jeremiah found a new spot to focus his efforts on, the struggle to keep her lip tightly bound under her teeth when the urge to moan became unbearable, the need to pull away when she’d gush in his palm, the newfound affinity for grinding her needy cunt into slick warmth.

“Do you want more angel?" He alone supplied the answer, trapping her swollen clit between a second finger. They glided like silk down her creamy folds, teasing her entrance with a calculated warning that still took her by surprised when he dipped his fingertips inside. The invisible threads permitting her to remain an undulating doll in his lap yanked her forward into a prominent arch, her nails flexed on his thighs. He continued stroking at a slow pace, squeezing her clit on the way up, dipping his fingers into her slick walls just enough to prime her for more should she choose to accept it.

Her hips were moving frantically on their own now. The moans she’d been so conscious about were accompanying his heavy breathing and grunts. She had never been this vocal. She was always too damn self-conscious to let go. As the pleasure began to surge from her core she lost the ability to care about anything that wasn’t contributing to the pleasure she was currently lost in.

“Can I come?"

“Is that what you’ve been needing pretty girl? You need permission?" His voice was remarkably calm to be actively orchestrating her destruction. The duality of it turned her on and made her wonder how far his restraint could take her.

“Please…" She begged around a gasp when he pinched down on a nipple and tugged it forward. A low and steady hum rumbled in his throat like he was mulling over a thought more complex than the question posed to him. She got the feeling he'd be sharing his assessment with her later. She gave up trying to multitask when the hand on her breast shifted to her front and began rubbing tight, hard circles on her slick clit to match the tempo of her hips and the fingers knuckle deep in her pussy.

“Please Jeremiah...fuck. I need to hear you say it."

“Go ahead and let go for me.”

Her soul cried thank you, but she couldn’t be sure she was verbally saying anything that made sense. Tremors dislodged her from the rigid arch she’d been locked in and moved down her legs to her pointed feet. She vibrated in his lap, clawing at his thighs until the pleasure reached its pinnacle then released her. Her body went limp against his chest, her neck curved along his shoulder as she forced heavy breaths through gaped lips, silently wondering how long it would take for the ringing in her ears to subside. Occasionally she’d jerk and whine from the sporadic aftershocks elicited by fingers still wandering through her rippling cunt.

She gestured to close her legs and he completed the motion, bringing their legs inward and draping hers comfortably over his lap.

“Tonight, is all about your pleasure and what you’re most comfortable with. We can stop at one orgasm or I can give you more. You decide. I'm fine either way." The hard line pressing into her ass was advocating for something less noble. She would’ve hated to leave him worked up with no outlet for release but when she opened her mouth to speak, she was thinking solely about her needs.

"I want to keep going. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it'd be."

“I’m sure it wasn’t." He chuckled. "We’re going to need more room for what I have in mind." He gathered her up in his arms and stood to his full 6’5 stature with impressive agility. Being handled in such a delicate manner was an experience lived vicariously through other women. Her thick 5’9 frame was much too heavy to put her faith in men lacking the physicality to handle her properly. Even when done in jest by men who fit the aesthetic, she preferred the safety in keeping her feet cemented to the ground. Once again, Jeremiah had proven himself the exception.

Experiencing his physical and mental strength from that vantage point reminded her that while favor was often unfairly distributed among the undeserving it could find its way into those unexpected occurrences where one needed it the most. She was grateful to have found her overdue favor in the arms of a man she gladly would’ve let carry her into eternity.

The journey was but a speck in time concluded at the edge of the bed with him delivering her to the center in a room far brighter than the one they’d left. Jeremiah climbed in the bed after her. She watched him actively map out points on her body like a gluttonous monster feigning restraint and nearly died from a heart attack when he snatched up both feet and pressed them against his broad shoulders.

“Wait! Shouldn’t we turn the lights down?"

"Why?" He murmured into the soft skin of her ankle, curling his tongue beneath the dainty gold cuban anklet to delineate the sensitive bone underneath. The visual was incredibly sexy on its own. She cringed when thinking of herself in totality. A little higher and he'd find the shit she’d attempted to change and the stuff she’d probably never be able to change without outside help. For a second longer she relished in his affection, knowing he was far to engrossed in his sampling to locate the answer to his inquiry on his own.

"Because I--I don’t want you to see me." She barely got the words out but knew he heard them. She quickly turned away to escape his wounded expression. If by some chance her words had inflicted physical damage, she hoped the injury procured her a small victory.

The bed shifted under his weight not in retreat but rather to press onward and through the latest barrier erected in his path. He consumed the space around her, trapping her between the bulging muscles holding him upright. "I want to see you."

"Well I don’t want you to so please turn them off."

He grabbed her hand and placed it over the thin fabric covering his erection. "Feel what you do to me. I’ve been worked up like this since you walked in here, before you took your clothes off and after. I understand you have things to work through, stuff that can’t be fixed in one night. It probably will be easier to turn the lights off, but I refuse to let you keep hiding from yourself and from me."

“So what? We're just gonna stare at each other all night?”

“No. You’re going to lay here and let me kiss every part of your body especially the parts you hate, or you tell me to stop. I'll spend the rest of the night holding you til you fall asleep. You decide."

He shifted between her legs, nudging them open a little further. She couldn’t prove the act intentional, the pressure on her sensitive middle coupled with the ardent look in his eyes inspired a braveness to choose the former over the latter. Her resentment survived the love contained in her heart for him as she blinked through her tears.

“I’m not ready to sleep."

“Then say what I need to hear."

“I want to be with you like this even though I’m scared and a little pissed off at you right now." She pulled her quivering lip inward and forced out the breath she’d been holding through her nose.

“You’re safe with me baby. I promise. Now kindly let go of my dick before I nut in your hand and send you to bed mad." Laughter spluttered from her tight lips upon realizing she’d been holding on to his dick for dear life.

“Maybe that's what needs to happen." She gave it one last curious grope and released him.

“You might wanna convene with your pussy first. Something tells me she isn’t done with me yet."

She rolled her eyes. It was a useless rebellion against the needy cunt actively relaying evidence to the seat of her panties. “I swear you get on my nerves."

"I love you too woman. And I’d do anything to keep you smiling including make a fool of myself. You’re allowed to cry if you need to. Close your eyes if that helps but at some point I’m going to need you to open them and understand that I see you differently than you see yourself. You’re beautiful and I’m going to keep finding ways to show you until you believe it too. Now lay back Angel. No more stalling."

She nodded and eased back on to the alter of white sheets and plush pillows. Her heart retreated into the space they'd carved out for each other, a private Eden for two bodies united by a singular responsibility to worship at each other’s temple. She devoted her hands to tactile reverence, slipping her fingertips under the cotton hemline of his shirt and laid claim to the russet silk stretched across hard sturdy muscle. The initial shudder enticed her fingers up his vertebrae, gradually bringing his shirt up with them. He raised up to assist in the final tug and emerged from the discarded fabric a grinning beast suffused with intent to replicate her actions.

“Your turn.” She whispered and pressed her nose to the wrist partially holding up his weight.

Stretched supine between Jeremiah’s kneeling form, a comfortable silence enveloped the room, lulling her into a preliminary calm of acceptance. The hands loving cupping her face began to move downward, transferring his gentleness to places only she had touched and places she hadn’t considered sexual or intimate. He drew invisible lines across her shoulders and down her arms to her fingertips then back up to follow the prominent bones in her clavicle, sweeping over the voluptuous swell of her breast and soft outer contours, leaving her taut nipples for last. Nothing went untouched. Then he retraced where he’d been with this tongue, this time bringing her top towards its respective end.

It surprised her how easily she could go from petrified at the idea of being stripped down to lust crazed. But she didn’t need to be logical. She only needed to accept that it was happening. This ethereal man had stripped her down to nothing in every way. He was taking care of her, orientating her for a life beyond the walls he was tearing down.

“How do you feel baby?” The question made her teeth ache. Beneath his genuine concern for her well-being was a man battling with his true nature. She prolonged his suffering for the benefit of seeing his tongue languidly passing over his bottom lip to keep his from drying out or to keep drool off his chin. She liked either option, neither enticed her as much as watching his Adam's apple move up his throat whenever her bare breast found their way into his peripheral view.

“Like my heart is going to rip a hole in my chest but in the best way possible.” She finally answered, relishing his ingenuity to fashion her bra into a makeshift restraint around her wrist situated above her head. She had no control over her body anymore. In giving up that control she’d somehow gained some over him.

"As long as your happy." He leaned down to suck at her throat. "I need to say thank you."

"For what?" She breathed out the budding tension and let him have his way.

"For waiting for me. You're a gift. Thinking about some ungrateful piece of shit putting his hands on you pisses me off."

"You've lost your mind." Her amusement was short-lived, replaced by a gentle sigh as he took the extended route to the source of her palpitations, scraping his teeth down the underside of her bicep at a predators pace, all teeth and heated breath, stalking, hovering, watching, waiting for him to bare down on meaty flesh. The suddenness of him latching on evoked a gasp as sharp as the seal being used to pull her breast into his greedy mouth and the wide breadth of his tongue. An appreciative hum, then she felt his fingers close over her free hanging breast, letting the weight of it settle in his grip. They worked in tandem, sucking, fondling, pinching, biting, alternating from one side to the next in a myriad of sensation she wanted to feel everywhere. Interrupting seemed unlawful so she laid there writhing and clenching her toes to help alleviate the pleasurable burn raging through her.

His body answered the call, first a subtle push down, then a doubling back for a healthy portion of what felt like her entire breast before he remembered his objective. Bulky thighs nudged her legs apart to accommodate the shift downward as he moved purposely and uninterrupted, tasting her as her went. She tracked every prick from his facial hair, measured the seconds until that preliminary kiss reached her hip bone. Awareness and disappointment churned in her belly. She wouldn’t give it a voice, refused to sacrifice anymore pleasure to disembodied voices in her head. She laid there, lithely preserved in her arrangement, a faint tremor just below the surface, fingers clenched down as Jeremiah peeled the red lace off her ass and further still down her curvy legs.

He’d already given her permission to close her eyes if she needed to and so she did. The simple act severing her from the tears hanging at the edge of her vision. She purged it all from her soul, the pathetic girl governing her life for far too long, all the baggage she’d accumulated along the way; let it all run down her face in shameless streams and disappear into her soft curls.

Jeremiah was there guiding her through it, his lips moving over her skin like a promise. It would get better. It is better, so much better. Then a kiss for every stretch mark she tried to erase, a litany for the bruised thighs she hated. It was a beautiful and terrifying affection capable of tearing her apart. His kisses evolved from gentle recognition to zealous worship. Opened mouth suckling that made her squirm, alternating between thighs, scaling higher into the crease, his warm breathing fanning over the apex.

He went motionless but she could feel his eyes on her. She wanted to crawl inside his mind to see what he was thinking, see herself from his perspective. He'd been so patient and understanding. He kept her smiling, made her cry, given her pleasure. In return she would lay there in that brightly lit room naked and spread open for as long as he required.

“I’m still here, just admiring the view. You're so damn beautiful." As if he could sense her need to make sure he hadn’t passed out from too much excitement. His voice was deeper than it had been, edged with something primal and hungry, and unbearably close to the puffy untouched seam of her lips. Her eyes fluttered from behind her lids, her mouth dropping to a half arch when his tongue finally split her open.

Their hands met each other halfway and interlock in a firm grip. His left hand roamed the outer curve of her ass and ribcage as his tongue followed the shape of her sex up one side and down the other, barely stimulating the bundle of throbbing nerves in his path. Grappling the curls at his nape, she leveraged her weight over his mouth and pressed her toes high on his back in invitation. He responded on a jagged breath, half laughter, half pent-up desire finally unleashed as he yanked her into the fullness of his mouth.

There was power in choosing not to rely on words she'd heard a million times before. With each languid swipe from his tongue she could feel its meaning taking root in her soul, its tendrils wrapping around sinew and flesh, holding her open to receive every lesson he wanted to teach.

She cried out, burrowing her head into the mattress, tightening her grip on his fingers while the other flexed against neck, fixating him to his promise. Not that he needed any prompting. Their pleasure was one in the same. She just happened to be the conduit through which it flowed, an organic banquet for him to devour in gluttonous portions at his leisure. A savored lick along her folds. A lewd slurp up her center with his tongue lodged at the entrance to catch the overflow. She bit down fiercely on her bottom lip as not to overshadow his avarice. He sucked harder, flattening his palm against her thigh to bury his face a little deeper into her sopping wet pussy. She lost any resolve to remain silent, adding her shrill cries to the symphony being created, her greedy hips rocking into him in a sinful plea to keep rolling his tongue against her swollen clit.

“Fuck Jeremiah...shit. I’m gonna die.” She squealed as she slipped into an insane juxtaposition of wanting to run from the very pleasure she desperately needed.

“Hell of a way to go." He grunted between slurps. His unwavering ability to keep a smile on her face even amid losing her mind invoked her next orgasm. If not for his unrelenting hold fastening her to the mattress she would've arched into the ceiling above them. He kept her in her violently shaking body, whining a medley of curse words until the pleasure balanced itself out. She laid there in the manufactured darkness, trembling and whimpering like a discontented pet demanding freedom Jeremiah refused to give.

“Shit J. You love it down there."

His laughter vibrated against her sensitive cunt, sending another intense jolt through her overworked limbs. She laid there at his mercy, too delirious to initiate an escape when he dipped his tongue back in her entrance to drink from the source. Exhausted as she was, she let her unstable legs fall open and kept them there like the obedient freak he’d reduced her to. “I can’t get enough of you. Should stay down here all night…Yeah, I think I will.”

A sharp, prolonged suck jostled her upright on to unstable elbows, her hands quaking in the air for purchase of anything solid. “Wait. It's too much—Fuck! Oh my god.” She stammered through pursed lips, in awe of how sexy he looked with his nosed buried in her cunt, his wide tongue rolling against the seal he’d created. In her delirium she threw herself backwards, tugging at her fluffy curls and gnawing into the meaty flesh of her arm as if she’d be granted some type of relief from the orgasm being ripped from her body. All her orgasms had been a self-induced escape from normalcy that ended the instant her pleasure became intolerable. Exhaustion usually took care of the rest. This was new territory where each boundary was a subjective point within an infinite spectrum. Jeremiah was determined to spread her thin in every direction.

She screamed into the endless void, clawing at the sheets, moaning in his name in a plea that went unanswered as he pinned her down by the back of her thighs to continue making out with her pussy. When he finally came up for air it was solely for her benefit. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in. Time and orgasms were lost in a blur of overly sensitive flesh quaking at the slightest touch. Jeremiah made his ascent with a nuzzled kiss to both her inner thighs and cloaked her body, the bulk of his weight held up on his forearms. Relieved by his successful departure, she lazily gathered all four limbs across his back.

“You still with me?"

“Barely.” For the first time in her life she tasted herself on his lips. She leaned into his advancement to indulge in the evidence of her bravery painted on his lips, something the old her never would’ve acted on. In her current love drunk state she took full responsibility for the moisturized glow on his face and how delicious his lips tasted with her flavor on them.

“I’ve pushed your limits farther than I should have. This feels like the right place to stop, give you a chance to process everything and decide how you want to proceed.”

No! " She flung the word at him and quickly adjusted her eager tone. “What I meant to say is there’s nothing left to process. If we stop now I’m afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow right where I started. You said it yourself. No more running.”

“Are you sure? If you have doubts for any reason at all we can stop. You aren’t obligated to do this for me. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes Jeremiah. I want you.” She felt his dick twitch beneath the fabric preserving his modesty but kept her eyes above the waist to gloat against his mouth.

"Say that shit again." He growled.

She smiled into the kiss, suspending them in blissful quiet for a moment longer before pulling away to look him in the eye. "I need you J.”

She watched a single amended word reshape his expression, dismantling him from the inside out with a tender vulnerability exclusively hers to witness, to understand, to soothe. Cradling his face, she cataloged the visual of him overwrought and teary eyed for her own selfish enjoyment then removed the breath of space between them. “You can cry if you need to but at some point you’re going to have to accept this relationship only has room for one emotional wreck.” He appreciated her borrowed words, she pretended not to notice him clearing his throat behind a laugh.

"I’m good. You’ve got a brotha feeling a little exposed.”

“Consider it payback for all those love notes you’ve been whispering in my ear all night.”

He nodded as she stroked the back of his neck, allowing him the chance to reorient himself. Silently, he rose from the bed to remove the last barrier in their way. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his thick jutting muscle consuming her vision wondering how she was going to take it all. It was a silly thought born from nerves she had no use for. She focused on the warmth emitting off Jeremiah as he laid on top of her and how perfectly his hard muscles aligned with the soft contours of her body. "I love you…This is your last chance to change your mind." He stilled himself at her entrance, prefacing his intentions with an endearing look that made her eyes water.

“I love you too. Now please make love to me. I can’t wait anymore.”

He forged into her on that declaration, moving through folds that had only known her fingers and toys she’d used at the height of her loneliness. She understood why she’d never been able to replicate what she was feeling now. She needed to have control wrested from her hands, to be crushed under the weight of another, gaze into their soul and see herself in the reflection, hear their love, have it pushed into her and buried deep.

She wrapped her limbs around his torso, locking her feet comfortably at his lower back to pull him in deeper. He canted forward and sank in, the added depth pulled a guttural moan from them, Jeremiah’s a note louder. She assumed from the shuddering flex in his back muscles that he was fighting to pull himself from whatever edge he'd abruptly found himself on.

“Fuck” He licked up the side of her neck to her ear. “Gimme a minute.” She didn’t require movement, not when she was so incredibly full and stretched around wanting flesh. When he managed to find his rhythm, she never wanted to be separated from it again.

He started off slow and forceful on the downward thrust, raising up on his forearms just in time to witness her eyes flutter open to the ceiling. "Eyes on me pretty girl. There aint nothing up there that can save you. You’re mine."

She whined in protest but obeyed the command amidst the struggle to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. He never took his eyes off her, recording every nuance as they occurred. Nothing would ever compare to being on the receiving end of his long, thorough strokes, swollen head to heavy balls as he bottomed out. It was a poignant reminder of who she was belonged to, where she never wanted to leave. She felt it everywhere, on the sweet spot near the end of her pussy, in her stomach, in her chest, a perfect foundation for the affirmations being fed into her.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look taking me like this…So perfect and made for me...You give love…You are love…my perfect fucking angel."

“Shit J. I’m gonna...”

“You’re going to what? Come?" He paired each word with a hard thrust and tipped her face up, wiping her tears into her hairline. "Let go for me. I need to see the real you."

The next deliberate thrust triggered an explosion in a part of her body left dormant for far too long. Her pussy clamped down on him, sending a rippling effect outward. She sobbed into his shoulder, openly reduced to a bundle of nerves thrashing and convulsing against a freshly soaked mattress.

His hips never stopped moving. In her frenzied state the fluidity in his movements went unnoticed. They were in a twin side pose, chest to back, her bent knee elevated and draped over his elbow locked in place by the splayed fingers wrapped around the base of her neck. She clung to his arm fastened across her chest, watching the room melt into a blur of shapes and colors as he fucked through her orgasm to something akin to mania. She bit into his arm, devouring the layer of sweat there, slapped her palm against sheets to help leverage her weight in supplication.

Jeremiah’s voice in her ear granted her a small mercy, talking her through each brutal surge and withdraw. “You promised not to run. Be a good girl and keep taking this dick. Pay back what you owe.”

“I know baby. Shit!” She did know. She felt the ruthless weight of it hammering against her spot, translated the vitriol when her selfish cunt would suck him back into her body and keep him there. He was angry at her for leaving, angry for lost time, all the self-harm she’d inflicted, everything he’d been through in her absence. If the cure was somewhere inside of her, she would endure being fucked within an inch of her life to give it to him

She noticed he’d lost his finesse. Silently celebrated his large frame hunched over her, possessive grip on her collarbone weakened by a familiar tremor because it meant she wouldn’t be traveling up that steep incline alone. She reached for his nape and pulled him forward, utilizing her limited mobility to push him over the steep cliffside. “It’s okay J. You deserve this next one.”

Her motives, while noble, were still delusions easily destroyed by a seamless change in tone. “We agreed you owed me one more.” She underestimated his stamina and how far back her leg could go before discomfort set in. The added depth knocked the sound right out of her, but it gave her the chance to revel in his arousal. His low grunts in her ear was making her cunt weep.

She hated not being able to see him splitting her open. She needed to see her flesh wrapped around his steel muscle, see the cream rimming her entrance, the rest meandering down the crack of her ass on to his balls. Hearing the obscene echo of him churning her guts wasn’t going to satisfy her longing.

Maneuvering her hand between her legs, she frantically rubbed her trembling fingers over her swollen clit before wedging them further down to massage his shaft and play in the fresh cream he brought to the surface.

“It’s so fucking good.” She whined. He moaned under his breath and pushed into the tight grip of her fingers before snatching her up by the wrist.

“Who told you to touch my pussy?” He emphasized his words on a forceful thrust. She wailed from the impact and shed tears when she lost count in the repetition.

“Fuuuck. I’m sorry.”

Releasing her shoulder, he dug his fingers into her jaw and twisted her back to make eye contact.

“I forgive you baby...I’m going to teach you everything you need to know. Fuck it into you every day so you’ll never forget. When you misbehave, you’ll know why I have to punish you for it.” He narrated her fate on the edge of her quivering gaped mouth. His hips were moving in striking contrast to his placid tone, one brutal thrust after another, breaking her down to something good. There remained an enticing subtext to his words she couldn’t process in her impassioned state. It didn’t matter. She’d already signed her life away on the imaginary line.

“Yesyesyes. I’m sorry J. It wont happen again.” She was apologizing for shit he couldn’t possibly know, offenses she had yet to commit. She didn’t want him to stop or to grant mercy. Her sole purpose was to take his dick, his anger, his love.

“Then be a good girl and come for me. One more. You got it.” His hand dropped from her jaw to the soft column of her throat and pressed down. The pressure formed a direct line to her pussy where his fingers were rapidly strumming over her clit in tune with the violent snapping of his thighs against her ass.

She moaned her obedience and incoherent praise for the rapturous tension moving through her with alarming urgency. The strength of it exploded in the fluttering space he was pounding into, rippling outward to consume her whole, taking everything in the room with it. She laid there, writhing and boneless, content to float indefinitely among the yellowish red hue carrying her through existence. She did for a while. The room came back to her in pieces, the cool air, damp sheets, Jeremiah's warm breath on her neck. She rematerialized around the hollow space where his dick had been, shuddering through pleasure with her eyes closed and her teeth bared down on his wrist, a tiny bit of drool on her chin.

“Welcome back. Are you okay? I went a little too hard on you." He moved the undefined curls away from her face to see her better. She was going to look a mess in the morning but didn’t care. One of her nosy sisters would gladly fill the role of hairstylist in exchange for details surrounding she and Jeremiah’s reunion. Most of which she intended to keep for herself.

“Mmh hmm” She offered a drunken smile and lifted her eyes halfway to see her stomach painted in come. She’d forgotten to tell him she was on birth control. When she started it last month, she had no idea she’d be using it for its intended purpose.

“All that’s for me?”

He laughed. "I’ve been holding that in for five years."

“Hmm...well next time do it somewhere else, preferably inside of me." She could sense the shock of her words reverberating off him but was still too out of it to explore the conversation further. Instead she curled into his body, resting her face on his arm and surrendered to the euphoric heat radiating outward from her core. Jeremiah stretched out alongside her, preserving the feeling on her skin with gentle caresses. Again, she drifted with a smile on her face.

When she came to Jeremiah was knelt at her side with a washcloth.

“Hi." She reached down to admire the masterpiece left on her stomach. Judging from the viscosity she hadn’t been out for too long. J eased her on to her back and began to clean up the mess on her thighs. Unlike before, she didn’t need any prompting to watch.

His smile warmed her insides. She could tell he was proud and turned on by her newfound confidence. "You like what you see?"

“I do."

“You better." The husky inflection resembled his vow to impart knowledge and punishment on her body in ways yet to be determined. Although she identified as a new woman, she looked forward to the correction Jeremiah intended to give. For now, she’d let him gloat over his success and the fresh arousal produced under his gaze.

Once he finished with cleanup and a full body massage Keila was more than ready create a human pretzel underneath the covers with her blissfully tucked under his weight in the tightest pleasure knot he could manage. She wasn’t tired but it helped to absorb the moment with her eyes closed.

“So what’s next for us?”

“We should probably save this conversation for breakfast. The answer might ruin the high I’ve got you on. Lay here and let me take care of you.”

“First of all, I’m sleeping until lunch time. Second, I just let you fuck my spirit out of my body. Nothing you say can scare me. Even if you did, I’m not getting far on these broken legs.” He responded with a contemplative hum. Then a chuckle and a pause. She could hear "Are you sure you?" projected in the silence, inciting her to pinch his arm in retaliation. “Now tell me and hold the simp.”

“Alright smart ass. Let’s commit to seeing where this road takes us for as long as we’re blessed to stay on it.”

“How long are we talking?”

“Ahh I’m thinking 50-60 years. 70 if we’re lucky.”

She bit back a smile, expecting nothing less from him. “Damn, that’s a long time to put up with you. I can’t promise I won’t get tired at the 30-year mark. We can be like those couples who link up on the weekends and for family trips. Yeah I like that. We’d get the perks of marriage and still have our individuality. After being apart for five years, five days would feel like five minutes. I might even let you have a girlfriend on the side.”

“Keep playing with me.” He warned, biting into her cheek repeatedly to balance out the possessive energy coursing through his veins. It was adorable to witness, but more enjoyable to antagonize. He tugged her back from her playful escape attempt into his chest, squeezing laughter from her stomach.

“I guess we can find a better way to preserve our identities. But if you really intend to keep me, you’re going to have to make good on your promise. I want orgasms every day.”

“Deal.”

“This is a tentative agreement. We can work out the finer details in the morning.”

“Mmh, anything you want my love.” He laid his cheek against hers, pulled her deeper into his embrace so she could feel his joy and his mirth beating through his chest.

It terrified her to think so many years ahead. With Jeremiah by her side those days seemed less like an inevitable progression to a nightmare shrouded in uncertainty and more like a reward for a life well spent. Neither controlled what fate had in store for them, she was hopeful this one kindness came with a lifetime guarantee. She tamped down her excitement, shifting her thoughts back to the present and all the pleasure woven throughout. She belonged to him. The rest would take care of itself.

#new story alert #westside-rot #original character #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black writers #smut #fluff

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