Trey Songz, Chris Brown and August Alsina Imaginations

Adoptive Brother, Part 3 x Chris Brown

Y/F means your friend and Y/F/N means your friend name.

Imagine your mother has fixed plates for you and Chris and you're the only two sitting down at the table eating. She's standing at the stove, complaining on the telephone to her friend about work and slow drivers on the roadways early in the morning. You twirl a noodle on your fork and turn your head to glare at Chris knowing he's looking at you through his peripheral vision. You stop twirling the noodle around on your fork, lift it up to your mouth and suck it up. You smirk already knowing this is making it worse for him in the boxers department. You pull the fork out of your mouth seductively slow and lick off the sauce on your lips. He looks directly at you and mouths words probably cursing you out. But your suddenly blaring ringtone captures your attention. You pick it up as it's vibrating on the table and raise up out of your seat to read the text message sent by your friend. You head upstairs to your shared bedroom to figure out what happened with her and her boyfriend. You must get the whole tea. You swipe your finger across Y/F's contact name to dial her cellphone number and she answers her phone on the third ring. You swing the bedroom door halfway closed, plop down on the bed and lay there on your stomach ready to hear the details. You hear a door creak, then shut and you're laughing because of a joke Y/F/N made so you don't pay it attention. Quiet footsteps approach the front of your queen size bed. Then a set of strong hands flip your body over, grabs your phone and hangs up, then drags you to the edge. "Bring that ass here YN." Chris says in a silly voice making you laugh. "No stupid, stop..." You whine, chuckling. You place your feet down flat on the bed and snap your thighs closed. "Nope told you it wasn't over." Chris slaps your thigh, lifts them onto his shoulder and pulls down your pajama pants. He snaps your panties' elastic band on your hip and you pout. His fingers caress away the sting then descends to the thin material between your hips. Chris lowers to his knees to pull aside your panties and mark kisses on your soft legs. He wastes no time blowing on your heat to get you ready. Then he starts to knead your moistened nub and plunges his middle finger quickly into your core earning a moan. You slide your hands down to surf in his soft, dark hair as you push his mouth down to meet your oozing bee hive. Chris's long tongue swirls circles on your flower all the way down to your opening granting himself access to enter. And you just lay your head back and enjoy the delightful feeling that's streaming through your body.