One-shots featuring all kinds of Black girls and the men you stalk on Instagram. Because we deserve to be loved and cared for. Endlessly.
(Mostly interracial, but I'm about that black love too.)
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My eyes opened to the sunlight coming through the blinds of the window. I had to pee, but Timothée's arm shackled me to his side. I hissed as I moved my thighs together. A bitch was sore. I laid back down and just looked at Timmy's sleeping form for a few moments.
Beneath that innocent face, was an insatiable man. But I couldn't really complain about a man who wanted me as bad as he seemed to all the time. When I heard his breathing change, I knew he was awake but he didn't open his eyes. His hand reached up to cup my breast instead.
"No, no, no, brooo," I moved his hand away.
Timothée smiled a sleepy smile. "Baby, don't call me bro," he scolded lightly.
His other hand lingered on my hip, rubbing it slowly. I was tired, but if I stayed in bed with this man any longer he would literally kill me. Still, I turned to face him and said, "good morning." He was so cute, with his messy hair splayed out on the pillow, but desire already shone in his eyes. "Great morning, love," he leaned forward to kiss me on the lips. I pulled away quickly because morning breath but he pulled me back in for another, and another, and another, until I felt his hand creeping toward the band of my shorts.
"Timmy, nooo. I'm sore."
" I'll be gentle," he assured me, his fingers still brushing against my skin. Despite myself, I was subconsciously already arching towards his hand. No. "I'm getting up," I sat up suddenly. "What do you want for breakfast?"
Timmy pouted. He put his other hand over the tent in his boxers. I covered my eyes with my hands.
"You," I heard him say.
I won't lie and say that didn't make me feel some type of way.
"I'll go wash up and then scramble some eggs," I responded, turning on my heel to head towards the bathroom.
Timmy and I had been married for about a year now, but he was often out of town to film or audition. When he came home to our NY apartment, he was insatiable. I mostly didn't mind it. But I did need some breaks. If it was up to him we would be in bed all day. He'd come home three days ago, but I wanted to leave the house at least once while he was here.
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I could already see the results of the past few days. My brown skin showed quite a few hickeys on my neck and collarbone, and if I were to investigate I'm sure I would find them in other places too.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face, rushing to the kitchen because I knew Timmy wouldn't leave me alone for long. It turns out he had already beat me there. He was pulling down a pot from the cabinet, with his boxers hanging low on his hips.
When he turned and saw me standing behind him, he said seriously, "Let's fuck on the counter."
I laughed even though I knew he was deadass.
"No, Timmy. We're going out today. Grocery shopping and then the party later with my friends. And then tonight we can do...whatever."
He frowned, running his thumb across a mark on my collarbone.
"So no fucking, but we can just...mess around a little?" His hand was on the back of my neck, and he was leaning down to kiss me. I reared back. He frowned again, his eyes actually looking a little sad.
"Did you just turn away from my kiss?"
I knew that was one of his pet peeves. "I'm sorryyy, it's just...this is why we never get anything done." I leaned up and kissed him in the lips quickly. "You'll pay for that later," he grumbled. He gave my ass a little tap before he actually let me go.
"Bubba I love you and I want you too... but just, later, okay? Any way you want it," I said, batting my eyes up at him.
I knew that would get him. "Okay, baby." He pressed a few buttons on his Apple watch. "T-8 hours and 32 minutes," he said with a smile.
This wigga really set an alarm.
The day ended up being much longer than it was supposed to be, and I could tell Timmy was getting tired of being good. I wasn't helping much though, because at some point teasing him became fun.
Getting ready for dinner, I laid my wig, flat ironing it bone straight. I put on an asymmetrical coral dress wit a deep v-neck. Timothee just watched me get ready in the mirror, his eyes low.
"What do you think?" I said, spinning around for him.
"I think...you're playing with me like I'm afraid to touch you in public," he said. His dark stare made me shiver. "But you'll be good right?" I said, slightlyconcerned that he would try something in front of my friends. He rolled his eyes. "Let's go."
On the way over to the party, Timothee stared at me in the back of the Uber. I couldn't lie, he was starting to get to me too. Especially with how dark his eyes got when I could tell he was aroused. I crossed my legs. He smiled devilishly. His long fingers came to rest on my knee. "We can turn this thing around right now," he muttered. I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."
I didn't tell him not to touch me because I knew that wouldn't do any good. I just folded my hands in my lap and crossed my legs like that Skai Jackson meme, reminding myself that I'm not the sex crazed member of the relationship.
The party was fun but I had trouble focusing on being with my friends with the way Timothee was staring at me like he wanted to eat me the entire night. My girls noticed it too, and though it was cool, the birthday girl eventually dismissed me to "go home and give that man what he wants."
At the door to the apartment, Tim spoke lowly in my ear. "Any way I want it?"
"Any way you want it, daddy," I bit my lip, looking up into his eyes. His eyes got impossibly darker. I used the bathroom quickly before joining me him in the room, where he laid on his back, watching me walk towards him with his hands behind his head.
"You've been running from me all day. Come to papa," he said with a lazy smirk on his face.
I rolled my eyes, but I was coming, I slipped out of my heels and jumped on top of him. "I missed this," I wanted to roll my eyes, but he wasn't the only one who did.
"But, the anticipation was really something wasn't it?" I teased, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.
Timmy growled at me, as if to say, I don't fucking need anticipation. Agreed. I just needed him.
He flipped us over so he was now straddling me.
"Don't make any plans for tomorrow." He didn't need to tell me twice. Timothée was insatiable, but maybe I was too. I could never get enough of him.
