𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅
𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝙶𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚊
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"How do I look?" Imani asked her boyfriend Saint who was sitting on her bed in her apartment.
Saint was home because he had a show in a college nearby, he didn't tell her the details but she trusted him.
"You look so stunning, I just might take you in my arms and fuck you back to sleep," Saint replied without battling his eyes. Imani was turned on but she couldn't get into it with Saint. They had been at it all day ever since she woke up and she had to get ready for work soon.
She playfully tapped his shoulder and then went back to look at herself in the mirror. Her pink bikini hand was coming loose so she adjusted it so it was tighter.
"I think you should wear this over the panties though," Saint commented walking towards her with a pink chiffon in hand.
Imani rolled her eyes, picked up a brush from her vanity table and began brushing her hair.
"I don't think I need to, I'll be there soon anyway," She replied after a while without looking back. She could see Saint's reflection through the mirror. He was dressed in a baggy hood and trousers, his dreads were tussled from their day in bed and yet he still managed to look really fuckable.
"I just don't- This is different." Saint argued. He walked behind her and placed his arms around her waist. Placing his head on the crook of her neck, he placed feather light kisses on it.
Imani squirmed in his arms but refused to let her firm reserve drop.
"I'm not wearing a chiffon over it and that's that." She said firmly and walked into the bathroom with her brush in her hand. Saint didn't come walking after her and so she knew he was mad. She contemplated for a while and then walked back into the room.
"Give me the damn chiffon you cry baby," Imani teased him and grabbed it from his hand before tying it around her waist, it was a light material and did little to cover her panties but it did a good enough job.
Saint smiled at her when she was done and dragged her hand so she fell on his laps with a plump.
He wasted no time spreading her legs apart.
"Just the tip," he begged, imitating a guy from a skit they both watched recently. Imani giggled and looked at him with hooded eyes. "Just the tip." She agreed, giving in. Saint wasted no time in shifting her panties aside and plunging in.
Imani was already wet and so it didn't hurt that much but Saint was huge and stretched her to her limits.
"This-isnt-just-the-tip," she let out in a rushed voiced battling to hold back her moan as Saint gave it to her with no mercy, his face was scrunched up behind her and his hands on her hips were guiding her to riding him just the way he liked it.
He hurried his pace and Imani grimaced in both pain and pleasure.
"Please I can't hold it in any more ," she begged, reaching around to grab Saint's dreads.
"Scream it till the streets can hear." He whispered, leaving a series of love bites on her neck.
"Who does this pussy belong to?" He asked, pushing his dick deeper while thrusting with so much fervency Imani could barely keep her eyes open.
