“My Pretty Girl, with a pretty ass, wet pussy. She deserves a kiss, baby.”
Orielle could’ve dissolved into the couch. Her body literally felt like it was melting from his complimentary words, andevaporated the second his warm lips touched her warmer ones. The sweet sound of her gasping as he ate her pussy made Najee’s dick harder.
He slid his tongue across her clit, swirling the nub in his mouth as if he were having fun with it. And he was. Najee wanted to see how much stiffer it could get. How wetter he could make her. He flickered his tongue, putting his skills to the test.
“Oh my gosh,” Orielle cried as her eyes crossed.
Her hand rubbed his waves as her body flinched, and she tried scooting back. The grip on her thighs tightened, and he dragged her back to where she belonged.
“I know you’re sensitive,” he mumbled gently between firm licks. Orielle gasped loudly. “But let me have this shit. Stop running.”
His words sent vibrations through her body, and her head dropped back, while her legs spread wider. They trembled uncontrollably as the first orgasm washed over her.
“Najee,” she cried out.
Hearing his name whimpered out only made him go harder. He left no crevice dry, lapped up every drop of her essence spilling from her body, and sucked on her clitoris with determination. Orielle wanted him to eat her pussy, and Najee was devouring it. Clean plate, no crumbs. No mothafuckin’ pussy juices left behind because he slurped it all up.
“Shit!” she squeaked, pressing her thighs firmly against the sides of his head.
Like he’d been doing every thirty seconds, Najee pushed them apart. There was no use in trying to stop him. When he wanted something, he went after it until it was his. Right now, he wanted to hear Orielle’s sweet melodies fill the room as he sucked on her pretty pussy. Her moans sounded just like she sang—fucking beautifully and out of this world.
So, technically, she had given him exactly what he needed, just like she said she would.
Orielle wasn’t sure how long he’d been down there or how many times she came, but she was delirious once he lifted his head. Najee rolled his tongue around in his mouth, as if to greedily taste whatever flavor was there. The sucking of his teeth as he licked them was a sound Orielle didn’t know she’d love hearing. Her eyes fluttered as she stared at his beard covered in her creamy wetness.
Attentively, Najee caressed her thighs and asked, “What else you want?”
Nigga, your hand in marriage. What the hell?Her thoughts were loud, and if she hadn’t been serious, Orielle would’ve laughed. Najee had eaten away her brain cells. She wanted to decapitate him, put his head in her black Glam-Aholic tote bag, and carry it around with her. There was no way she was sharing that mouth with anyone else.
Instead of answering him verbally, Orielle reached for him. She pulled him to her and they shared a nasty kiss. Tasting herself on his lips only brought the freak in her out more. Najee didn’t want to think that because she’d given him a taste that they were going to have sex, but he should’ve used his other head and not the one Orielle wanted to take out a life insurance policy on.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, running a hand over his erection.
He was so hard it hurt.
“Can I feel it?”
The innocence in her voice made his knees weak. She didn’t have to ask, but he damn sure would’ve loved to hear her beg. Najee had no problem removing his pants and black briefs. He lowkey wanted to take his socks off because that’s the type of nigga he was when fucking, but he kept them on. Next time,because there would damn sure be a next time, he was removing every stitch of clothing.
“Tell me where you wanna feel it,” Najee said, sliding the SILK condom over his shaft. The Black-owned brand was the only kind he used.
Orielle’s mouth watered. She wanted to tell him in her throat, but she needed her voice. The thickness and length told her he would surely fuck up her vocals. She would’ve been better off wrapping her lips around him anyway, with how loudly Najee was about to have her screaming and moaning once she told him, “Everywhere.”
Her confident answer made Najee waste no time. In the midst of his pussy eating festival, Orielle’s hoodie had been removed. His lips wrapped around one chocolate, taut nipple while he aligned the head of his dick at her center.
She gasped loudly and sharply as he pushed inside her. “Najee!”
He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t. She was so damn tight; it made his head spin. Leaning over her, Najee kissed her neck.
“You gotta relax for me, baby,” he said and immediately felt the difference as her body reacted to his strokes. “I know, I know. Un, un. Come here. Let me open this shit up.”
Orielle didn’t mean to run away, but it was feeling too damn good. She told him she wanted to feel it all over her body, and Najee listened. Her toes tingled as he dug deeper, poking at the spongy spot inside her that was going to have her writing another song about him. At this point, Najee’s name should’ve been in the credits.
When she caught her groove and started fucking him back, Najee smirked and pushed her legs back against the couch, holding her in place by her ankles. Orielle’s flexibility wasliterally a flex, and he couldn’t wait to fold her ass up in different positions.
Her stomach hollowed. “Oh my God!” she screamed, biting the knuckle of her index finger.
Najee pulled her hand away, still relentlessly pounding into her. “Nah. Don’t bite shit. I told you I need to hear you.”
