Potent | Beynika Short Stories

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 | Chronicles

𝘛𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙧: 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙗

Never had I been so enthralled with a person, that I wanted to live in their skin, to milk them of all their love. Crazy? Maybe, but that's just how deeply I was fascinated with her.

Clinging onto her every word, that smooth, rich tone, sexy and deep, as every wish fell from those soft, plump lips. Her declaration of her desired future had me melting, the pleasurable ache settling into my core spoke volumes.

She was on another rant, I didn't mind it thought, I love hearing what went on in her head.

Watching carefully, rested upon the woman's bare shoulder as she continued to grind up her weed. A wooden tray sat in her lap, upon it the herb laid, along with her paper woods and the filter.

We were in her room, one of the most common places we'd reside. Whether it was to chill, sleep, or get our mack on, her room was my favorite. Why? Well it just so happened that her parents were often working, so she had the place to herself. Which meant I could come over and do with her as I please.

Not to mention her room is cool as fuck! This big ass bed, she has this gold lava lamp that really sets the vibe, LEDs around the base of her bed frame. In other words, it was really chill and welcoming, similar to her.

Watching her was an enchanting sight, my pupils dilated, hands caressing her caramel skin. I couldn't keep them off of her, rubbing at the flesh of her hip, leaving small pecks along nape of her neck. As her tongue licked over the edge of the wrap to seal it off, I bit my lip, before bringing my attention back to the conversation she'd begun.

"You really should start organizing your socks," I advised, seeing the basket of mixed up socks on her desk. Noticing her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, I fixed them.

"Soon. Wanna know something?" A brow raised upon her face, I just nodded. I was comfortable and she'd tell me anyway even if I didn't answer. I was more interested in listening to her speak, she was enticing.

"Well truthfully," she started, the lighter in her clutch flicking swiftly at the sparker. Patiently awaiting her words, I watched her take a deep inhale of the blunt, smoke blowing from her nostrils as she spoke, "The reason I leave that basket there is for when you come over, you're always volunteering to help and I like the way to fold them.

No one likes mating socks, me included. You see how I do," She lifted her legs to show the two different socks that covered her feet, both different sizes, "So it's been like a goal of mine, since I was like 7. Forget it though, I'm realizing how silly it is."

Smiling, I spoke, "No tell me, I want to know what goals 7 year old Yoncé had."

"Trust me, it's silly. I had came up with this weird conclusion that if the person I'm with doesn't fold my socks right, it's a done deal.