mute.

EIGHTEEN

••
𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖞 𝖌𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖊.
••

i laid on omar's couch, sipping some hennessey, moaning at the taste. lmao i'm drunk.

jahseh was out with gazzy, so i came over here to chill with my nigga.

"nigga, you be hella feminine when you drunk." omar laughed, sitting next to me.

i punched his arm, rolling my eyes. i sipped the drink some more, before setting my drink down.

"how's your relationship with jah?" omar smiled at me, lighting his blunt.

"great. h-he's everything." i hiccuped, now knowing i'm hella drunk. i usually don't hiccup when i'm just drunk.

"h-how's g-gazzy?" i stared at omar as he smoked his blunt.

i swear, a seen a hint of lust in his eyes. i'm probably just trippin'.

"he's.." omar paused, rolling his eyes. "great. just great."

i'm confused.

"um-."

"he can't ride dick tho. i bet you can tho." he smirked, sliding in between my legs.

update from chief: this ain't it.

i laughed nervously, mushing his face.
"m-move nigga! s-stop trippin'."

he pinned my hands behind my head, holding my wrists tightly.

"who said i was trippin' bebé?" he bit his lip, leaning in slowly.

your head's just swirling sister.

"omar.." he rubbed my sides, grinning.

i smell no alcohol on his breath.

"yes, baby?"

— 🤠 —

"who's ass is this?" omar smirked down at me, his tip pressing against my prostate.

"y-yours daddy!" i moaned, gripping his shoulders.

he hummed and started thrusting slowly, digging his nails in my sides.

i arched my back before being pushed back down by my neck.

i gasped, placing my hands on omar's stomach, moaning loudly.

he grabbed my leg, throwing it over his shoulder, growling.

"ain't nobody ever hit it like this, right mí ámor?"

"right daddy!" 

- ☺️ . but, tbh i'm tired of seeing "rip x" in ever related post of jah. now, y'all reaching.