ℂℍ𝔸ℕℂ𝔼- A Black Panther AE

Trouble (pt II)

They were in the kind of frenzy that they hadn't been in since their teenage years, when it was their first time getting into it.

When they looked back upon it, it was uncannily similar to that first evening: when an eighteen-year-old T'Challa bent over the naked silhouette of Nakia, gazing into her eyes with an ocean of words behind his, as their hips moved into each other in a trance-like tandem.

Nakia could remember the high-pitched grunts and low moans that burst through his clenched teeth back then, as he experienced another body for the first time. Her skin had been burning with an invisible fire, her nerves tingling each time his erratic thrusts rubbed against her spot. Her hands had roamed over his chest, then: and had traveled further down still... feeling his back and gripping his hips. Dipping down her own trove to pleasure herself at the same time.

Excitement, apprehension, and arousal had consumed her mind, not unlike what was happening right now.

It was easy for her to visualize T'Challa's buttocks, now free of the wraparound (which lay flung over her chair) flexing and clenching their juicy muscle, as they pistoned his hips into her. He was mindful enough to lift her an inch off the mattress, so that her cuts didn't rub the wrong way.

He led the pace: steady, but gentle. Enough to bump her spots but lacking in the right pressure. Such a tease.

"Ahhh...mm.."

Nakia's soft groans were music to the King's ears, but he could hear the caution she pressed on herself to avoid calling him any of the names that would usually spill from her lips once his dick was inside her. They were still friends, not with anything acknowledgeable between them.

"T'Challa....!"

"Hmm...?" His husky voice rang out from the soft contour of her clavicle as her body moved to his rhythm.

"Ohhh..."

The King emerged, glowing. "What is it?"

Nakia observed the sweaty sheen: as the Black Panther, his stamina was not the cause of perspiring so early into their love-making. It was his passionate heat.

"C'mere," The War Dog groaned as she touched foreheads with him and pulled him into a lustful kiss. Their tongues played with each other and their breath was one for a moment, before T'Challa pulled back.
Nakia knew why he did: even in their desperately detached state, they found ways to touch the other's soul, awakening the wounds that they were trying to cover with their very act.

It almost felt like they were high-schoolers, long before they were pleasantly surprised by T'Chaka heartily accepting Nakia as his son's potential consort. Despite her lack of political placement in her tribe: something that was often looked for in the people married into the Royal family.
It felt like a time when their love was almost forbidden, and not something that would be allowed to continue beyond some nights.

Back then, it was his father's expectations. But now, it was them.

They couldn't get too close, as much as they were each other's mooring: some ropes can pull you in too hard.

So they settled for the more whorish sides to sex.
Needless to say, it was something that T'Challa excelled in.

-

Nakia gasped and dug her nails into his back as she began riding her third orgasm with the King, who hadn't come yet.

His arm still heroically held her away from the sheet, but his hips pounded into her with a vengeance that could almost let her taste the frustration and rage swirling in his mind. But her head was at a point where it couldn't care about anything except the sweet thrill of surfing down the choppy wave he was leading her towards.

"AAAaahhh! Bast! Ndiyacela..." She froze up and quietened for a second as it crashed over her. T'Challa's face was all in hers as he too let out a low moan, holding her softly jerking body against his own. His other arm anchored powerfully into the sheets as he slowly stroked his hips forward to ease the pleasure over her pussy... before returning to his grind.

slap!slap!slap!slap!slap!-

The War Dog sighed in satiation, in contrast to the hungry beast her friend had become while chasing his own tide. In her calmer state, she could see T'Challa's fleshy buttocks jiggling with the harmonic force he applied down front: and her contracting walls was what finally got him to the edge-

His entire, sinewy frame stiffened and quivered. Nakia couldn't feel the gushing release thanks to the condom he had slipped on out of diplomacy, but since it didn't matter between two tied and tested hoes:

"Yintoni...?" He whispered in half rapture and confusion as she lightly pushed him away, straightening up in the sheets.

She didn't answer, instead, taking his pulsing member in her hand and slipping the sheath off. T'Challa obliged her, gasping as she pumped him through his continuing orgasm. The white pearls stood out against her earthy complexion, as more spilled onto her thighs, neck and chin. The King was speechless, only bringing his dick closer over her face to watch the drops splatter on it as he gazed deep into her eyes.

Nakia's mischievous hands had now travelled behind him, massaging the alluring masses that were his cheeks, and spanking them as he spent his final bursts. He groaned in reply, smirking a little after a long while of furrowing his brow with his every emotion. His head rolled back as his breathing slowed down; the lady still held the softening length in her hand, admiring the bulbous pink head that she didn't get to see often these days...

Or would she?

~

The next day, Nakia woke up to an (annoyingly) tidied up dresser and an empty space in the bed, beside her. The dried semen stains on the sheets along with the throbbing in her hips was yet another sign that her ex had definitely been in there.

She sighed, resetting and getting ready for her last day home for some months.

5:00 AM was when T'Challa would usually hit the gym, and that was where she found her feet leading her. She didn't want to see him again, since he probably needed some space, but before she could turn back, she found herself right before him.

Seeing him sweaty and minimally clothed didn't really go with her plan of staying in focus, and he seemed to understand, by how he merely nodded respectfully in her direction like she was some elder councilor.
She felt like giggling all of a sudden, as she watched him trying to avoid taking in the new, maroon, backless jumpsuit she was wearing that day.

He snapped his head back from where it had turned ever so slightly, but it was enough for Okoye, who stood by the gym's entrance, to know what exactly had happened last night.

They grinned at each other as they came closer. Okoye lifted an eyebrow.

"What are you up to now?" She greeted dryly.

"On my way to go through some missions..."

"Mhm? Sure you don't want to, uh... rest your back?" The General indicated her own back, feigning innocent concern to tease her friend.

"My back can take it, generalll..."

"It's just our ears that can't, Nakiaa..."

"Sounds like you have to sort it out with himmm, Okoyeeee"

"Mmh." She rolled her eyes. "I think you need to stay back. It would be of some help."

"And why is that?"

Okoye beckoned her forward and glanced around for any passers by. "That mercenary who we captured... didn't the King tell you anything about him?"

Nakia frowned, "No... is it of much concern?"

The Dora chewed her lip slightly. "I would be very concerned. Things just ... got a little more complicated."