Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Meet and Greet

Note: Angel attends a Meet and Greet for MBJ and gets chose. Sexual content.
♡

“Fuuck..,” Michael dragged through flared nostrils watching the petite and masterfully built brown woman work voodoo magic between his thighs. She was down on her knees sitting on a pillow, sucking her little heart out along with his soul. Her silver dress draped over the hotel bed along with her fur. Without him having to ask, she’d kept the heels on.

When he’d initially invited the stranger to his room, it was out of intrigue. She was a beautiful, clean, classy woman with long hair, long elegant legs and neck, a beautiful face, and big titties. He didn’t think she’d be so nasty or focused on his pleasure, yet here she was.. making a mess of his dick and he couldn’t take it. He could barely even speak. God if this woman looks me in the eyes she gone fuckin get it, he thought unsure of whether he wished for it or against it. She was fuckin him all up.

Angel’s eyelashes fluttered and she gazed feverishly with bloodshot eyes up into Mike’s own hooded eyes, her throat full of heated raw dick that was sensitive to the touch. Thick ropes of white saliva spilt from the corners of her full ruby red lips, collecting at his base as she moved her head back and forth swiftly. She could feel his tight fist gripping her long blown out strands into a makeshift ponytail.

“You fuckin nasty, suck that shit,” he strained, sweat forming on his brow. The look is his eyes said, suffer bitch. His mouth was wide, an O before his big lips began to purse and pout. He was locked the fuck in, nodding, making tense eye contact.

Angel could feel his strong lust, palpable. It only made her hungrier to possess the man she’d dreamt about since she was a child watching Hardball. This meeting was a decade in the making. Meeting Michael was everything she’d dreamed it would be. When she’d approached him at the New Orleans meet and greet, he was taken by her flamboyance. Distracted. Her mild peacocking had worked. He was extremely friendly, playful, and flirtatious. In a short, fitted satin rouched silver dress coupled with a luxurious fur and tulle bolero that read old Hollywood glam, she was in her element. Photographers mistook her for a celebrity asking her name, but no one recognized it. Michael was no different, he’d asked her identity not recognizing her from any magazine or red carpet. Despite that, she sent him all the signals she knew how to show him she was interested and he’d picked up on every one, ultimately asking if she wanted to go with him back to his hotel. She was years past ready.

But he sure wasn’t.

The wet and echoing gluck, gluck, gluck, was only interrupted by her harsh gasp as she attempted to cram minutes of breathing into a brief second. The glossy strong dick coated and dripping with her thick spit was calling out to her. She let the pool of excess spit collecting in her mouth drool heavily onto his length, sliding down his balls and to his hairless asscrack. The large cloth hotel chair Michael sat on was wet, stained with her spit. She grasped his dick firmly in her small hand, her index, thumb and pinky nails painted salmon pink with small silver and crystal appliques at the base. Her middle fingernails were marbled pink and grey. Her matching bra and panties were pink lace. She could tell he was enjoying that colorful view along with her silver stacked finger rings. She hadn’t done it for him at all, but she knew he loved and appreciated it. It was just who she was naturally. Panting, she gobbled his length hungrily with a desperate moan. She felt insatiable.

Her perfume kept hitting him, the smell alive in the air. Light and natural notes, sweet but mildly floral. She had elegant taste to the most minute of details. Out of all the girls he’d had sex with since he’d been poppin in Hollywood, she smelled the best and her head was top tier. She dared him to look away from her pretty, messy face, but he knew better. If there was anything he was good at to the same degree as acting, it was sex and though Angel was great, he knew he was better. He refused to be shown up in either field.