Wet Mouth, Worse Intentions...

She said hello with her mouth... and goodbye to her self-control.

Soon as she opened the door, I knew she wanted it filthy.

Big tee. No bra. Eyes low like she been drinking disrespect and thinking about me all day.

Didn’t even greet me proper. Just looked me up and down like she was trying to decide which part to suck first.

I stepped in. Locked the door behind me slow.

"Where your manners at?" I asked, knowing damn well I didn’t care.

She dropped to her knees like a prayer she owed me.

No talk. No warning. Just warm spit and wet lips straight to the base.

Her mouth was tight, hot, greedy. One hand on my thigh, the other cradling my balls like she missed them personally.

"That how you say hi now?" I grunted, but she didn’t pause, just looked up with them teary eyes and kept sucking like she had a point to prove.

And she did.

She swallowed me whole with that sloppy twist at the end. Gagged on purpose. Let spit drip from her chin just to smear it on my shaft before going again.

"Good girl," I muttered, grabbing the back of her neck.

"Use yuh throat like yuh vex."

She moaned.

And I lost it.

Lifted her up like nothing, lips crashing into hers, my own taste all over her tongue.

Dragged her to the sofa. Bent her over without discussion.

Panties already soaked through. I tore them to the side and shoved two fingers in deep —

She gasped, clenched, and cursed under her breath.

"Mi nuh even start fuck yuh yet," I growled.

But her back arched already.

I slid in slow, thick and rude, like the devil himself. Dipping up deep in her belly.

She gripped the edge of the couch, legs trembling, moaning into the cushion while I hit deep, then deeper.

Slapping sounds bouncing off the walls like claps of thunder.

Sweat sliding down my chest. Her ass jiggling with every thrust.

"I missed this," she said between gasps.

"You missed being owned," I corrected.

And then I flipped her. Legs up. Ankles on my shoulders. Went in again like I didn’t have sense.

The bed creaked. The neighbours probably praying.

But she?

She just kept saying my name like it was the only thing she remembered from church.

We fucked through the apology.

Through the lies.

Through the last man who couldn’t make her squirt.

And when she finally did?

She bit the pillow, scratched my chest, and let out a sound so filthy I had to kiss her just to quiet it down.

I stayed the night.

Of course I did.

But I ain't bring no overnight bag.

Only intention.

And dick.

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