moth2flamewriting

[moth2flamewriting]

Can you please make a Dom!Smoke smut fic pls?

Absolutely!!!! Thanks for requesting for Smoke!! I had SO much fun writing this one, I added a little aftercare scene at the end cause you cannot convince me that Smoke wouldn't bean aftercare king 😤

MDNI

3.5k words

Warnings: Dom!Smoke, dom/sub dynamics, AFAB reader, praise, thigh riding, multiple orgasm, oral(f receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, belt restraint(wrists), thigh & ass spanking, begging, you address him as 'Sir' most of the time, fingering, dirty talk, I think that's it

You heard the front door before you saw him—no knock, no warning. Just the sharp sound of the deadbolt turning and then the heavy step of his boots across your entryway floor. Smoke never asked if he could come over. He simply arrived. Like a shift in weather. Unstoppable. Unspoken.

You glanced up from the couch, book forgotten in your lap. He was already in the doorway of your living room, black coat damp from the night air, leather gloves on his hands, eyes tracking every inch of you like he was deciding whether or not to speak.

“Long day?” you asked softly, unsure if this was one of his silent moods or one of his watchful ones.

He didn’t answer right away—just stepped in, slow and precise, then let his jacket slide from his shoulders onto your armchair like he owned the room. Because in a way, he did. Smoke didn’t take space. He became it.

“Come here.”

Your body responded before your brain did. You rose from the couch, bare feet padding across the hardwood. You could feel how heavy his stare was on your thighs, your nightdress barely coming to the middle of them. A hum escaped his throat—low, satisfied, like he was cataloging you again, making sure nothing had changed since the last time.

When you reached him, Smoke cupped your chin, his fingers cold against your jaw.

“Was feelin’ you’d wait up.”

Your lips parted to answer, but he kissed you first. Not deep—controlled. Like a statement, not a question. His thumb stroked once over your bottom lip as he pulled back. His thumb lingered at your lip like he was waiting for you to speak—or maybe hoping you wouldn’t.

You didn’t. You didn’t need to.

He looked at you like he already had the answer. Like your silence told him more than your words ever could.

"Bedroom," he said quietly. "Now."

Your heart skipped a beat—not from surprise, but from how effortlessly the command settled into your bones. You nodded once, subtle, and turned without waiting for another word.

He didn't follow right away, but you could hear the thud of his boots hitting your floor. Only twice. You didn't look back though, just continued to the bedroom.

Then, you felt him behind you. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to pull at the air around you—the weight of his presence brushing your skin like a shadow. Your nightdress fluttered at the backs of your thighs with every step, and you knew he was watching. Cataloging. Letting the anticipation bloom in your belly before he ever laid a hand on you.

By the time you reached the bedroom, the silence between you had thickened into something more intimate than words. You paused at the foot of the bed—waiting.

Smoke stepped in behind you, deliberate as ever. The soft sound of leather being pulled from his hands echoed louder than it should have. He tossed them onto the dresser without looking. Then, wordlessly, he sat on the edge of the bed beside you, spreading his legs just wide enough.

You felt the heat of his gaze pass over every inch of you. Without a word, he reached out. His hand brushed over your thigh and then he tapped twice.

“Up.”

You knew what he meant.

Your breath hitched as you swung one leg over, straddling his thigh, settling into the muscle beneath you. His hands didn’t guide you. They didn’t need to. You moved instinctively, slowly grinding down with a soft exhale, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders.

“There she is,” he murmured, one hand splayed low on your back, the other rising to curl around the back of your neck. “I come through that door an’ there you are, sittin’ all quiet like… You think I ain't know what you want?”

Your hips stuttered at the tone. Not cruel. Not mocking. Just cold truth, delivered like a gift.

“I—”

“You what?” His thumb tilted your chin upward. “You gonna sit there an’ pretend you don’t soak through the sheets when I don’t touch you right away? Like that little nightgown ain’t a damn invitation?”

You whined. His thigh tensed under you.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

He let you grind. Let you build that slick pressure against him while his hands controlled just enough. He didn’t move his leg, didn’t push up, just let you work for it. Slow, maddening friction.

“Good girl,” he breathed, eyes half-lidded, lips barely parted. “Already makin' a mess.”

The words sank into you like heat, low and curling, coiling tight in your core. Smoke’s voice was low, reverent in a way that didn’t soften him, rather sharpened him. Like approval was another form of possession.

His hands briefly left their spots, toying with the hem of your nightdress before tugging it up. it the floor without a sound. Then, he gripped your hips.

You moaned softly—involuntarily. His thigh was so firm, so unforgiving, and you could feel every tremor of tension in it, every breath he held back just to watch. You moved a little faster, needing more, and one of his hands shifted lower. It settled right at the crook of your hip and thigh, pressing you down a harder.

"Greedy," he murmured, and you felt his mouth brush your temple. “Love how you try. All eager. All messy. Just look at you.”

Your nails dug slightly into his shoulders, not for control, but to ground yourself—because his words cut straight through you, sent sparks up your spine.

“I c-can’t—”

"Can’t?" His tone cooled immediately, sharp as glass. His hand stilled your hips mid-grind, just a small press to stop you in place. “You gon' come just like this, baby. Nice an’ slow. Just how I say," he paused. "You wanna give it to me, baby?”

You nodded too fast, too desperate. His brow twitched—barely approval, barely restraint.

“Words.”

"Yes—yes, Sir."

“That’s my girl.”

He let you move again. Barely. Just enough to find your rhythm again, to work against the ridged line of muscle beneath you as he stayed perfectly still—your body doing the work, his control framing the edges. The sound of you was getting louder now—breath hitching, your panties rubbing against his slacks, soft and needy moans. You knew he was listening. You knew he wanted to hear.

“Don’t hold back,” he said, hands tightening slightly around your hips. “Wanna hear just how bad you need it.”

You moaned, pitched and aching. You were so close. Every pass of your clit over his thigh shooting pleasure straight through your stomach, tight and overwhelming and helpless.

It hit like a wave—soaking through your panties and dampening your thighs. You cried out, hips stuttering uncontrollably as you clung to him, trembling, thighs tightening around his. He didn’t move. Just held you there, watched you come apart, the faintest smile pulling at the edge of his lips.

You slumped forward slightly, still gasping, body pressed against his. But he wasn’t done. Not even close.

Smoke’s hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he stood, carrying you toward the center of the bed like you weighed nothing. He laid you down with calculated care—like he was already planning what came next.

Your legs were still trembling when he stood at the edge of the bed, peeling off his shirt with slow precision. His eyes never left yours.

“Y'think I’m done with you already?” he asked, voice low, steady.

“No,” you breathed. The corner of his lips tugged up as his fingers went to his belt.

You watched, breath hitching—not just from the anticipation, but from the way he looked at you while he did it. Calm. Focused. Not undressing. Preparing.

“Hands up,” he said softly as the belt slid free.

Instinctively, your arms lifted. He guided your wrists together above your head and secured the belt around them. Snug but not painful, pulling the leather tight with practiced precision. You exhaled quietly at the feel of it—the cool, worn leather against your skin, his fingers brushing your pulse.

You didn’t ask why. You didn’t have to. He liked you like this—open, restrained, at his mercy but trusting. And he’d earned that trust.

“Don’t move 'em,” he said, and kissed the inside of your wrist, right above the buckle. “You move 'em, I stop.”

The threat wasn’t cruel. It was worse. It was true.

You nodded, breath catching in your throat. “Yes, sir.”

That earned you another small smirk—not playful, but approving.

Then he knelt on the bed again, between your legs. His palms smoothed up your thighs like he was memorizing them again for the hundredth time. His eyes were half-lidded, dark and heavy as they traced every inch of skin he touched. Reverent and possessive.

“Oughta make you ride it again,” he murmured, thumbs digging softly into the flesh at the top of your thighs. “Looked so damn pretty on my leg… ruined my slacks.”

You whimpered—not in protest, but in response. The way he talked about you... Like you were his craft. His vice. His home.

His hands slid upward, fingers spreading across the curve of your thighs, kneading them gently. Then firmer. You arched a little under the pressure, hips shifting. He smiled. Quiet. Knowing.

Slowly, he leaned down and kissed the inside of one thigh. Just above the knee. Then again, higher. And again. And again. His bread scratched against your skin and his breath fanned just under your cunt.

“You feel that heat, baby? All that for me?” he asked, dragging his nose up the inside of your thigh before biting at the meat of it. You gasped, thighs twitching around his head. He grinned against your skin, then his hand came down on your inner thigh. Not cruel, but deliberate. Enough to make you cry out and jolt.

“Stay open.”

You swallowed, legs trembling as you forced them wider again. You loved this—the feeling of being laid bare for him, vulnerable under his mouth, his hands. And he knew it. He loved that you obeyed even when you were shaking.

He kissed and licked the spot he slapped.

“Good girl.” He pulled back just enough to hook his fingers into the elastic of your panties and pull them off you.

He quietly groaned back in his throat at the sight of you before settling back down. His tongue slid through your folds like he was savoring a reward. Slow at first. Too slow. You let out a helpless moan, hips rising—but he pinned them down, strong hands anchoring you to the mattress.

You were gone the second his mouth latched on to your clit—not teasing now, not gentle. He ate like a man with purpose. Groaning into you, licking with hard, flat strokes that had you writhing within seconds.

One of his hands left your hips, and you only missed it for a second before smack—it came down on the outer side of your thigh. You cried out, half from shock, half from the rush that rolled straight through your cunt. Your wrists instinctively pulled against the belt, but you kept them above your head.

Your head fell back as you felt two fingers replace his tongue. He wasted no time sliding them inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot. Then his mouth latched around your clit once more.

You were already close again. You didn’t know how. You didn’t care. His grip, his mouth, the ache still buzzing through your thighs—it was all too much, too good.

“Elijah—!”

The second orgasm ripped through you harder than the first. You bucked under him, sobbing his name, and your nails digging into your palms. He pulled out his fingers and held you still. His mouth never left you, licking you through the aftershocks like it was his right.

And when your hips finally sagged, spent and shaking, you thought maybe—maybe—that was it.

But then he looked up.

Eyes dark, chin wet, mouth curved in a knowing smirk.

He sat back between your legs, his fingers gliding along your inner thighs again—deceptively gentle. Like he was admiring the canvas before ruining it. His eyes flicked to your face, then down again, noting the way your chest heaved, your thighs glistening.

His fingers dipped between your folds, slow and purposeful, sliding through the mess he’d made of you. You whimpered, arching, and his palm came down—sharp and sudden—against your thigh again.

You gasped, hips jolting, the area throbbing. The contrast—the wet heat of his fingers and the sharp kiss of his hand—had your nerves on fire. Your hands flexed helplessly.

"Hold still."

You whined and nodded your head.

Smoke rewarded you with two fingers, pressing into your pussy with slow, unrelenting pressure. His knuckles pushed deep, curling expertly as your back arched and your legs quivered.

“So wet for me,” he breathed, voice dark with satisfaction. “You’d let me do anythin’, wouldn’t ya?”

“Y-yes,” you choked out. “Anything—”

Smack.

You cried out and ground helplessly into his hand. The slap landed where your thigh and hip met, right by your ass cheek.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was like gravel now. Controlled, but dark. “You take what I give ya. Nothin’ more.”

His fingers fucked into you deeper, slow and steady, curling just enough to drag against that perfect spot inside you. Your thighs began to shake again, heat coiling hard in your belly. You tried to squeeze around him, to chase that edge—

But then he stopped.

You nearly sobbed, hips jerking forward in search of friction. “No—please—!”

Smoke clicked his tongue, withdrawing his fingers slowly, deliberately.

“Mmm. You was close again."

You nodded, breathless. “Please—just a little—”

Smack.

Your thigh jerked. Your hands lifted off the bed before falling right back down. It burned so good.

“Beg prettier.”

You swallowed. “Please, sir. Please touch me again, I’ll be good—I'll stay still, I just—I need—”

He leaned over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other slipping back between your legs with no warning. His fingers dragged through your folds again.

“I know you need it,” he whispered, lips ghosting yours. “That’s why I ain’t givin’ it to you yet.”

You groaned in frustration.

He kissed you then—deep and claiming, like he was sealing a promise against your mouth. His fingers slid back inside, slow and cruel, curling just enough to make you gasp but never fast enough to let you fall over the edge.

He built you up, again and again. Tightened the pressure. Spanked your thighs, your ass. Praised you for not pulling against the belt. Laughed quietly when you whined as his fingers pulled out of you.

But still… no release.

By the time he finally stopped, leaving you clenching around nothing, you were trembling, soaked, panting.

He looked down at your slick thighs, your tied wrists, your blown-out eyes.

Then he kissed your knee.

“Don’tchu worry, baby,” he murmured, unbuckling his belt from your wrists, “I’ll let ya come…”

Your wrists fell limp to the sheets as the belt slipped away, skin warm and tingling from where the leather had held you down. You barely had the strength to lift them, but you didn’t need to. Smoke had already moved.

He stood at the edge of the bed, pulling off the last of his clothes with the same measured control he used in everything. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just inevitable.

Your eyes locked on the thick line of his cock as he wrapped a hand around it. Slowly, almost lazily, he pumped it once, twice as he looked at you with dark amusement.

“Fucked out already, an’ I ain’t even been in you yet.” He murmured, stroking himself as he took you in.

You whimpered, thighs twitching where they lay open for him.

He climbed over you, crawling between your legs, hands bracing on either side of your body. His cock brushed your slick folds, dragging up and down with maddening pressure, but not yet pushing in.

“You want it?” he asked, voice quiet, deadly calm.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”

He paused, lowering his head so his mouth hovered over yours. “You gon' take all of me, sweetheart? Even after what I just did t’you?”

“Yes—”

“You gon’ keep ‘em open f’me while I fuck you dumb?”

“Yes, sir.”

That earned a low sound from his throat, something between a growl and a hum. Then he sank into you.

Your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering back. He filled you completely, bottoming out with his hips flush against yours. He just held you there. Made you feel it.

“Takin’ me like you were fuckin’ made for it.” He muttered, one hand slippin’ under your thigh to hitch it higher on his waist.

Your nails scraped down his back, moaning as he began to move—slow at first, rolling his hips with devastating precision. Each thrust dragged along your walls, deep and deliberate, hitting all the right places and none of them by accident.

You clenched around him, already dizzy with the need to come, but you didn’t dare rush it.

Smoke wouldn’t let you.

“Easy,” he breathed, nipping your jaw as his pace increased just slightly. “You ain't comin' yet.”

“Please—”

“No.” His palm came down hard on your thigh again, right near the bruises he’d made earlier. You cried out, body jumping—and he fucked into you harder.

“Gotta earn it,” he growled, pulling back enough to look at you. “Take it. Be good.”

And you did. You let him use you. Let him fill you, fuck you, break you open with every thrust. His praise burned through your veins—rough, filthy, reverent:

“Look at you—drippin’ f’me.”

"Sound so fuckin’ pretty when you get close, baby.”

“Made f’this cock, huh? Knew you were.”

You nodded, moaned, begged—and he still held you back. Until finally, finally, he shifted his angle—hips grinding in deeper, one hand sliding down to press firmly against your clit.

You gasped, eyes wide, knowing you couldn’t take much more.

Smoke leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Now.”

There was only time for two more thrusts from him before the orgasm tore through you like a live wire—your whole body arched, convulsing under him, your fingers digging into his arms. You sobbed his name, legs trembling, walls clenching so tight he cursed under his breath.

But he didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, deeper, rougher, chasing his own high now.

And when he came, it was with a groan ripped straight from his chest. He buried himself to the hilt, filling you with heat, his grip iron-tight on your hips as he ground out the last few thrusts.

The room went quiet except for your shared breathing—ragged, heavy.

He collapsed beside you, your pulse still pounding in your ears. Every inch of you ached—your thighs, your wrists, your throat from crying out his name. You couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Smoke lay beside you, still catching his breath, one arm slung across your waist like a claim he had no intention of letting go.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. He just looked at you—not possessive now, not calculating. Just present. Watching the way your chest rose and fell, the dazed look in your eyes, the flush still blooming on your skin.

Then, without a word, he shifted.

He pushed himself up slowly and reached down, sliding a hand along your thigh to check where the welts were forming from the slaps. His touch was gentler now, fingertips dragging slow across your skin like he was memorizing each bruise. You whimpered softly at the contact, not from pain—from how careful he was.

“Y'alright?” he asked, voice low and gravel-warm.

You nodded, too floaty to answer right away. He hummed—deep and satisfied—and leaned in to kiss your temple. Then he moved down down to kiss your thigh, right where his handprint was darkening beneath the skin. Then again. And again. Reverent. Worshipful in a way that made your throat close a little.

Smoke wasn’t the kind of man to say thank you. But this? This was his thank you.

“Lemme take care o’ you.” He murmured, sliding off the bed and heading to the bathroom. You heard the water run, the sound of him moving around.

When he returned, he brought a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. You let him ease your legs apart again, and he cleaned you carefully—no teasing now, no sharp edge. Just quiet, intimate care. His touch still firm, but with no agenda behind it. Just… you. Just the after.

He pressed the bottle of water into your hands when he was done and then lay down beside you again. His arm came around your waist, dragging you gently to his chest.

“You did real good tonight,” he said against your hair.

You melted into him, legs tangled with his, letting the rhythm of his breathing ground you.

“You feel alright, baby?” He added, quieter now.

“Mhm. Perfect,” you said. “You always take care of me.”

You felt his hand tighten just slightly against your hip at that. And then, softer:

“Damn right I do.”

[moth2flamewriting]

annie is a freaky frogggggg🤪🤪🤪

A Reckoning (Smoke Moore x Annie x Stack Moore)

Preview: No preview cuz we goin' in RAW ok?!

Warning ⚠️: They're a trio. Smut (18+ Material)

A/N When ya’ll said Smoke didn’t do enough in What You Spit, I Swallowed I said: Y’know what? Hell yeah! Enjoy ya nasties. This is the aftermath of What You Spit, I Swallowed. You'll likely need to give that a read for context.

p.s I formatted this on my phone so I’ll clean it up later! 🤍

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“I ain’t forget.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t forget.”

Annie released a breath. That hand was there as a reminder.

“I won’t be able to forget — without laying you out.”

Still no pressure. Still no pain.

“Cuz you just gon do it again.”

She gasped.

“And you ain’t gon’ learn,” he croaked, right in her ear.

“Elijah —“

“Shhh.”

She could feel him undoing the tie of his sleep pants and shoving them down.

He began to pump himself to life.

“You wouldn’t like me as much if I let you get away with it. Would you princess?”

She knew the men she married. She knew what she was getting when she met those boys at the altar. She knew.

“Annie.”

She bit her lip and her eyes dropped low. “No.”

He cocked his head slightly. “No?”

“No daddy.”

His eyes slipped closed and he basked in it. The title. Her resignation. What she was giving him. Her surrender. Her consent for him to tear her up.

“Good.”

“I’m gon’ make you cry tonight beautiful.” The phrase made her clench violently.

As if he felt it — he smiled.

“A part of you… —the part that’s got your pussy leaking right now —wants me to set you straight.”

“But for good measure — let me check.”

He slid his hand down her chest, up her sleep dress, and they made purchase right at her slippery folds.

Busted.

It was near shameful the way his fingers slipped easily between her lips. The clinical inspection continued to drive her arousal.

Smoke was gonna do whatever he wanted to her tonight. And she was dying for it. She’d been dying for it the second the spit left her lips and landed on the man’s cheek.

He’d done well. Made her wait a few days. Made as if everything was normal. She truly thought the reckoning wasn’t coming.

She should’ve known better.

Smoke was a man. Her man. He didn’t ask for much but he didn’t play about respect.

He pulled his hand back out from under her roughly and brought it up to her face. Proof of her yearning.

He spread his fingers so she could see the sticky fluid that clung to them.

Annie felt her heart race as she watched the man's face intently.

He popped a finger in his mouth and groaned.

“It ain’t that kind of night… but another time.” He said before patting her cheek lightly. He shook his head.

“Tonight, you gon’ learn.”

A single tear slid down her face.

He kissed her cheek and tasted the salt.

“C’mon now.”

And just like that, the reckoning began.

__

Smoke had her face down, arm pinned. Annie was wrung out and whimpering, her cheek half-buried in the sheets as he thrust slow and deep, like he was making a point.

And he was. Fuck around and find out.

He wasn’t talking much—just breathing heavy, whispering her name into her shoulder like it was a prayer he didn’t deserve to say.

And that was the moment Stack stirred.

From across the bed, his lashes fluttered, brow furrowed. He shifted under the covers, blinked himself awake—and froze.

He saw the slick curve of Annie’s ass in the moonlight, the strong line of Smoke’s back above her, muscles tense, dick buried deep. The quiet was thick with the sound of her soft cries, the wet slap of skin, the creak of bedframe.

Stack didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t speak.

He just… watched.

One hand slid beneath the sheets, wrapping around himself. He stroked slow—methodical. His breath started to hitch, and his eyes never left the way Annie’s body opened up to his brother. Her knees shaking. Her fingers clenched in the linens. That little gasp she made when Smoke shifted his angle just right.

The woman was a wonder.

Her eyes flipped to look up at him.

Stack’s chest rose hard. He dreamed of those dark expressive eyes.

He moved out from under the covers to get closer to her. Hand still firmly gripping himself and stroking rhythmically.

He watched as she licked her lips. It was no secret that sucking dick was one thing that got Annie going like no other. She stuck her tongue out, expecting to get a taste and he pulled himself away. He shook his head. “Not that kind of night mama.” He spoke lowly — eyes still not leaving hers.

The whimper she let out almost convinced him but he stayed strong. Instead he dragged the head across her cheek obscenely. Like he wanted to mark her with his touch. Something for her to remember who she belonged to.

It didn’t take long and he came with a quiet grunt, face tipped back, thighs tensed. Hot spurts spilled across the sheets beside her—messy, uncontrolled, and absolutely reverent.

An offering.

And still, Smoke didn’t stop.

He looked over once, eyes meeting Stack’s across the room. Didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk.

Just said, low and rough, “So nice of you to join us.”

“Y’all got started without me.” The younger accused.

Smoke’s voice came hoarse: “Not my fault you sleep like the dead.”

Smoke huffed. “Bet you up now.”

Then he refocused. On her. He slid particularly deep and she yelped.

“You feel that?” he whispered against Annie’s ear.

She nodded, breath caught.

He drove into her deeper. “That’s your consequence.”

“Daddy,” she whined.

He pushed her down further, palm splayed between her shoulder blades. “That’s it,” he growled. “That’s how sorry sounds.”

He groaned like she’d punched the air out of his lungs. One hand slid up her spine, the other gripped her thigh tighter.

“You spit in my face,” he said, voice thick. “So I’m puttin’ you in your place.”

Annie’s breath hitched again. Her legs gave a little.

“You gon’ take everything I give you, and then you gon’ thank me for it.”

He continued. Sharp punishing strokes.

“Thank you daddy — please.” She begged, her voice already hoarse. “Please fill me up. Make me yours.” She asked earnestly. She needed him right now, almost as much as she wanted to breathe.

It was music to his ears. It was everything he needed to hear. Because talk like this meant that Annie was close — and he wanted to take that away from her. Tonight he wanted to be mean.

Smoke pulled out with a sharp groan, thick fingers wrapped around his dick.

“No!” She gasped as she felt him slip out of her leaving her clenching against herself. Any chance of an orgasm slipping away with it.

Disappointment sat heavy and loud in her gut. Smoked eyes never left her face through it all.

As if he fed off her ruin he stroked twice, hard, and came with a grunt—hot ropes painting the same spot where Stack’s mess sat thick atop the sheets.

It was filthy. Blasphemous.

And then Smoke reached for her.

Annie was dazed, breath ragged, as he pulled her up from her previous position.

He held her face at an angle. Looking. Really looking. Dried tears and bruised lips.

He couldn’t help but capture them in a searing kiss before he swiftly broke away from her.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair—gently, but firm—and lifted her head. “C’mere pretty.” he encouraged.

She blinked — confused.

Then he pressed her face right into the cooled jizz.

It wasn’t spit. But it was the next best thing.

Not rough. Not cruel.

Just… final.

And something in her broke.

Not from pain. Not from shame. But from what it meant.

Her mouth parted on instinct—a gasp, a moan, something between horror and worship—but it was too late. The slick heat smeared across her lips, her cheek, the tip of her nose.

She froze.

“Take it,” Smoke said low. “Take what you earned.”

Her body jolted—like the humiliation branded her from the inside out.

Stack’s seed.

Smoke’s.

Her face.

And they were looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen.

“You think you ain’t property?” Smoke murmured. “Look at you.”

“You look beautiful mama. You look mine.”

Her vision blurred. Something cracked open in her chest. He crouched low.

“You belong to us,” he whispered. “We take care of what’s ours and I don’t want you to ever forget it.”

She trembled.

Stack stepped closer, awe and heat mingling in his expression.

“You still with us, sugar?” he asked, kneeling beside the bed.

Annie didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

She just nodded slowly—barely.

She didn’t wipe her face. Didn’t move to clean herself. There was something eye-opening about the entire experience. Not getting the seed from the source. But from a bedsheet. After it had exited their bodies. After it’d lost its warmth and heat. Kind of like when she spat on him.

She’d spat in anger. They returned the favor in kind—but sweeter, crueler. What came from them wasn’t meant to shame. It was meant to mark. And maybe that was the difference. Hers had landed like a slap. Theirs—like a vow.

His point had been made.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she basked in it.

Whole.

Owned.

Loved.

Marked.

And both of them saw it—the surrender, the trust, the broken-open beauty of it.

This was love. The Moore kind.

Broken down to her knees and built back into belonging.

She was theirs.

And she never wanted to be anything else.

What she gave in anger, they returned in reverence.

And somehow, that made her clean again.

__

A/N Ya'll thought I let Annie get off easy in What You Spit, I Swallowed and I sho did 🤪 I just didn't wanna see my girl get tore up ok? 😭

But Smoke couldn't sleep. Couldn't forget about it. Is it a little depraved? Sure. But he did what he had to do. 1-1 draw ok?!

Always eager to hear your thoughts and encouragement it keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

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My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

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[moth2flamewriting]

im reallllll into this

"Imagine Being Love by Me" Pt 2

Smoke x Annie x OC Sinners Fic

Modern AU

Hello ! the bees in my brain are screaming, they demand I write so here I am back again. My 2025 motto has been 'don't be afraid to be seem trying" and BOY do I feel seen. I love Pearline and Sammie so there's more of them in this section. Also I now have a summary I guess!

part 1

Warnings: None for this part.

Word count: 2930

Enjoy!

Cassidy has arrived in Clarksdale, Mississippi to visit her best friend from college Pearline. Pearline is excited to show Cassidy around and allow her to sample all Mississippi has to offer, which may include more learnings and love than Cassidy is ready for.

Day 1 of 16

Cassidy hefted her backpack further up her back and wheeled her suitcase out the automatic doors of the airport. She paused the Mississippi heat pressed in on her from all directions. She looked around and took in how perfectly flat the horizon was all around her, past the airport parking lot the world seemed to go on forever here. She turned her face up toward the sun and took in a deep breath, it was so different from New York. Different from the city but even different from where she was living now further upstate away from the noise. A honk to her left caused her eyes to pop open and she turned to see Pearline standing in the open door of her car waving at her. 

“Babygirl!” A smile burst across Cassidy’ face as she shouted, hefting her suitcase up and hustling towards her. She dumped her bag and caught a squealing Pearline in a hug. Arms wrapped around her shoulders she squeezed her friend hard, bending her back and rocking her side to side. 

“Ah, I fucking missed you girl!” Pearline moaned.

“Missed you too, come here lemme look at you” Cassie murmured.

Taking a step back, her hands running down Pearline’s arms to clasp her hands and took a good look at her friend for the first time in a while. Pearline looked amazing. Fresh braids pulled into a high ponytail, her gorgeous chocolate brown skin, glowing and even, her eyes were sparkling. 

“Goddamn girl, is it love or is it the Souf that got you shining like this? I am tryna get like you, shit” Cassidy exclaimed. 

Pearline swatted her in the arm for her terrible impression of a Southern accent. 

“Look at me?! Girl look at you! Daddy got a retwist just for me huh? Look at how long yo hair is.” 

“Yeah you know, I had to get right before I meet all your friends. I can't have people talking shit about us city slickers” Cassie pushed her hand through locs and shook them out, preening slightly. 

Pearline shoved Cassie away and beeped open the truck of her car, “Get yo shit and let's go city slicker” 

After loading her luggage into the car, Cassie settled in the passenger seat as Pearline pulled out onto the road. The flat Mississippi terrain whipping by the window, nothing as far as the eye could see, few trees off in the horizon. 

“I can't believe you made it” Pearline said, awe coating her tone. 

“I promised I would, shit is settled at the farm and it's cold as shit right now I would rather be here.” Cassie replied, turning to look at her friend. 

“I believed you when you promised but damn it's been years I've missed you, girl”

“Aht aht, it's been 18 months not years! And I've missed you too that's why I'm here, I'm ready to root and toot or whatever y'all do out here” Cassie laughed. 

Pearline was her roommate sophomore year of college. Still homesick and feeling lost in the ever swelling crowds of privileged white folks the two of them struck a fast friendship. 

They had been with each other through so much, internships, microaggressions, bad break ups (Cassidy had notoriously keyed Pearl's garbage ex boyfriends car, he spent years crossing the street every time he saw Cassidy in town, bitch ass) and even Pearline finally packing up and moving back home to Mississippi. 

The last almost two years had been filled with daily phone calls and weekly zoom sessions. Cassie listening to Pearl wax about reconnecting with Sammie after so many years away, hearing about her truly making a life for herself now. For the last 8 months Pearline had been begging Cassie to finally come down and visit, the club that Sammie and her performed at regularly was celebrating its 2 year anniversary and it seemed the perfect time for Cassie to take a much needed vacation. 

Cassie pulled her phone out of her pocket, opened the camera and held it forward so both her and Pearline were in the frame. 

“Smile baby!” She shouted, Pearline’s eyes darted briefly away from the road to smile brightly at the camera. 

“I got one y'all! Snagged ha and dragged ha ass out to the Delta!” She called whooping like a cowboy and beating on her horn as they continued down the empty road. Laughter burst from Cassie thick and full and she fumbled to end the video. 

~~~

Hours later in the front room of Club Juke, Annie was leaning against the bar, swiping through Instagram on her phone. A new story posted by Pearline caught her attention and she clicked it. A boomerang showing the arrivals gate at the airport showed from 6 hours ago, “ma girl’s finally here !” The caption read. 

Next a repost from someone else's story showed Pearline driving and a gorgeous black woman sitting in the passenger seat shouted “Smile, baby!” Annie was struck by how bright and wide the woman's smile was; she missed the rest of the post. She fumbled her finger and replayed it again, this time the woman's playful rich giggles ringing in her ear. 

The next story post was from 30 minutes ago, a repost from Sammie's story, it showed Pearline and the women standing in almost a prom pose next to Sammie's truck, Pearline beaming at the camera while the women had one arm around her waist and looked down at her with a smirk. Sammie had caption it “third wheeling with your woman and her stud best friend” followed by a face palm emoji and the crying emoji. 

Annie noticed the woman was tagged and briefly hesitated before clicking on her IG, it was private to her disappointment. Her bio read:

Cassie and sassy. Brooklyn born n raised Farmer/Rancher in Seneca NY She/They/Daddy 💦

Annie bit her lip and swiped back to Pearline's story to watch the video again. Captivated, she didn't notice Elijah beside her till he kissed her temple. She jumped, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“Who dat?” He looked at her phone screen now showing the photo of Pearline and Cassie. 

“Pearline got a friend from school visiting, that's her. Cassie.”

She tapped back to the video and turned the phone for Elijah to see. He look properly, the corners of his mouth turning up subconsciously at the sound of her laughter. Annie watched him. When the photo of Pearline and Cassie came up she held her thumb to the screen so it wouldn't time out and Elijah turned the phone to take a better look. 

Cassie was taller than Pearline even in her customary 5 inch heels. She had dark brown skin glowing and dark dreadlocks curled and tumbled over her shoulders. She was wearing an oversized white button up held together with only two buttons done up, thick belt buckle at the waist her jeans tight and snug over her thighs till it fell down straight over her huge chunky combat boots. Big gold rings on the fingers of her hand around Pearline's waist matching the gold necklace disappear down the collar of her shirt. 

Elijah's eyes roamed over her as Annie watched his reaction, he was so busy studying her figure he didn't catch Sammie's caption, when he did his jaw clenched and he caught Annie's eyes. 

“She's pretty.” He said, pressing his lips to Annie's cheek as he pulled away. “C'mon baby car’s warmed up” 

Annie tapped back to the video letting Cassie's voice and laughter wash over her. “Pretty.” She hummed and followed Elijah out. 

Day 2 of 16

Club Juke was absolutely packed. Line outside going well down the street and curving in front of the tamale place. Cassie’s eyes widened as Sammie pulled into what seemed to be a VIP parking spot right up front. Pearline was checking her makeup in the mirror, cleaning the lines of her lip look. Cassie patted her pockets to make sure she had her phone and cards on her. Her own lips are lightly red and glossy. She looked up in time to catch Sammie staring adoringly at Pearline, hand forgotten on the keys in the car's ignition. Pearline noticed and gave him a questioning look and gentle smile. Sammie leaned across and ruined all her hard work by giving her a full kiss on her lips. She yelped and returned the kiss, swatted him on the shoulder as he leaned back. 

“You beautiful” he said to her shrugging. He killed the engine and hopped out, walking around the car to open Pearline and Cassie’s door. Cassie looked up from where she was checking out the patrons in line startled. 

“Such a gentleman our Preacherboy is” she said sweetly as she hopped out. Pearline slid from her seat, like liquid sin. She was wearing a very tiny hot pink sleeveless dress, sparkling tights and shiny black heels that made her legs seem to go on for years. Cassie could completely understand how distracted Sammie was every time he looked at her. 

They were so sweet it made Cassie’s teeth ache looking at them. Pearline deserved someone who was so in love with her they couldn't see the world around them and that was Sammie for sure. 

Sammie’s arm slid around Pearline’s tiny waist in that dress and held out his hand to help her step onto the curb. He didn't follow and hung back so he could watch her walk in front of him. And walk she did. Cassie stifled a giggle, and followed her as she made her way to the entrance. 

Both Sammie and Pearl were recognized by folks on line, calling out to them asking if they would be singing tonight which Sammie denied. 

“Just hanging with family tonight yall, sorry” he said as the bouncer waved them inside. 

Pearline has described Club Juke Cassie multiple times, having been heavily involved in the place since its grand opening. But seeing it in all its majesty was something else. Unlike the clubs Cassie frequented when she lived in Brooklyn Club Juke was all southern charm and what could only be described as black excellence. Two floors, huge full bar, stages and raised platforms the space was amazing and had all the grandeur of a theater. 

Everywhere Cassie looked there was amazingly dressed gorgeous black and brown folk dancing, drinking and chatting. Glasses clinked and the music was soaring around the room. Cassie was almost breathless with excitement. 

Tonight’s gonna be a good night. She thought giddily. 

Pearline made her way to the less crowded bar away from the stage and waved the bartender over. She plopped herself onto a stool and turned to grab one for Cassie. Cassie was gazing around eyes wide and impressed. Pearline caught her wrist to get her attention and gestured to the seat, Cassie shook her head and leaned against the bar to Pearline’s right keeping the door and the crowd in her sight. Sammie pressed in on Pearline’s left and began chatting with the bartender.

“You can sit. It’s chill here Cassie, I promise.” Pearline leaned in closer to Cassie. 

Cassie was already shaking her head trying to deny that she was on edge but Pearl knew her too well. 

“Maybe I should've wore a dress.” She leaned in to speak in Pearline’s ear. She had already caught people looking her way as they walked in and this isn't even the most masculine she could look. 

“Stop, you look fucking amazing and like I said you good here. I wouldn't bring you nowhere where people don't know how to act.” Pearline swatted her shoulder and then squeezed her arm in reassurance.

“And my cousins don't play about shit like that. People probably not lookin for the reason you think, me and Pearl here most nights. Clarksdale is still a small city you just a new face.” Sammie said, leaning over to hand both Pearline and Cassie drinks. 

“We got you, don't worry.’ Pearline added. 

“Alright okay, thank you and cheers yall!” They all clinked glasses. 

“My friend Therese is performing later tonight, I want you meet her, she's good people. Her and Corey too.” Sammie nodded to Pearline’s words leaning into her side and kissing her shoulder. 

Cassie smiled again watching them, Sammie seemed like he couldn't spend 5 minutes without his lips or hands somewhere on Pearline. They had been together for 2 years already and seemed still well entrenched in their honeymoon era. 

“She been texting me all day nervous as hell but she's gonna be great” Pearline continued snuggling back into Sammie’s side. Cassie nodded along listening as she took in the crowd again. 

Much how Cassie imagined the red sea parting the crowd around the entrance parted giving Cassie clear view what could possibly be the most beautiful woman she had ever seen walking into Club Juke.

A vision in bright chartreuse, one shoulder long sleeved number, deep rich brown skin fucking glowing like she held the light of the sun in her chest, thick as fucking hell, the women was tall and confident her eyes scanning the room.

Cassie swallowed heavily and tore her gaze away, last thing she wanted was to be caught gawking here. She took a gulp of her drink and blinked hard, biting down on her lip she stole another glance up.

The woman had made her way to the bar on the other side of Club Juke, on her walk there she had been stopped multiple times, kissing cheeks, giving out hugs and waving at people too far from her to greet properly. 

The bartender almost tossed himself over the bar to greet her, she asked him something, and he turned and pointed to the upper level. Watching her from the back was almost as good as the front. Her dress was floor length and fit her body like she was born in it. Her ass sat high and full and the curve of her lower back was a vision. The sleeveless side of the dress exposed her shoulder and the tender nape of her neck. Cassie was awestruck. 

Maybe southern women are just built different cause goddamn. Cassie thought, she tore her gaze away and again and realized Pearline was no longer talking. 

Caught out Cassie froze, meeting Pearline's smirking gaze. 

“Ion wanna hear it Pearl.” Cassie said quickly turning to face the bar. 

Pearline was quiet which made Cassie wary, she picked up her cocktail napkin and gestured towards Cassie, confused she leaned closer to her friend. Who then wiped roughly at the corner of Cassie's mouth and shouted “Wipe the drool off ya face den!” 

“Stop it Pearl get offa me” Cassie squirmed out of her hold, her drink spilled over he fingers as she freed herself. Cassie shook her hand out and placed her drink on the bar. Pearline was still cackling as Sammie chuckled beside her. 

“Ugh I hate y'all, where's the bathroom you nosey bitch?” Cassie pouted, wiping both sides of her mouth with her dry hand to make sure she wasn't actually drooling. Pearline burst into laughter again and pointed out the restrooms under the staircase to the second floor. Cassie huffed and made her way through the crowd towards the restroom. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and as she looked down to check it she collided with someone. Her phone clattered out of her hands and to the ground. 

Shea butter, tangerine and herbs filled her nostrils. She stepped back an apology already on her lips. She looked up and met gorgeous almond shaped brown eyes, perfectly lined and surrounded by full lashes. 

Cassie choked on her own tongue. Something that looked a lot like recognition came over the woman's face and she pursed her lips, gaze dragging over Cassie's face.

“Sorry, I wasn't looking.” The woman's voice was rich and low. She had such a smooth accent that Cassie wasn't able to place but it tickled in her brain. She smiled softly. Cassie was already shaking her head, waving away her apology. 

“No, it was me I shouldn't be on my phone like that anyway.” Cassie said. 

“It could've been very important.” she replied. 

“Couldn't be, I've already forgotten what I was looking at” Cassie said finding herself slightly outta breath the longer she spoke to her. There eyes were locked and Cassie had no interest in looking away.

“Well let's see” she bent down, ignoring Cassie's protests and scooped Cassie phone off the ground and held it out to her.

Cassie reached out to take it and their fingers brushed, sending tingles down Cassie's back. 

“So?” The women looked expectantly at Cassie, eyebrow raised. “Is it important?” She asked. 

Cassie struggled to tear her eyes away from her gaze and unlocked her phone. The notification showed a new text message from Cassie's ex Olivia. She involuntarily sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes locking her phone and shoving it back into her pocket. 

The woman's laughter caused her to look up again. She had one hand cupped over her mouth as she laughed. Her face completely lit up in her humor and Cassie felt her jaw slacken slightly again.

“I guess not then” she said still smiling and looking Cassie right in the eyes.

Cassie opened her mouth to reply when the woman’s own phone lit up and she looked down to reply to a text. 

“Sadly this is important, but you have a good night” she said as she held her phone. She turned to walk away and then said over her shoulder “I'll see you later maybe?”

Cassie nodded and replied “Uh I sure hope so” 

She got another beautiful glowing smile in return. The woman made her way to the staircase and disappeared up to the second level as Cassie watched her walk away. 

Mhm they built different down here for sure. Cassie thought as she made her way on to the line for the restroom. She didnt notice dark heavy eyes watching her interaction from the second level of the club.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think <3

[moth2flamewriting]

Imagine:

I decided to give y’all this short and nasty! The other idea I want to explore and drop separately for ya’ll! Here’s something smutty and delicious 😋

The cicadas outside whispered against the heat-soaked night, their song soft through the open window. The moon hung low and wide like a watching eye, bathing the little bedroom in silver. Curtains swayed. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and an old train groaned over a distant track.

But in here, the world had stilled.

Smoke needed her pussy. Preferably from behind and until he was satisfied. Even after he cums he can’t stop. He just loves the deepness. The way her pussy flutters around him.

She was on all fours at the edge of the bed, her spine dipped low, hips tilted up, all that brown skin glowing like bronze beneath moonlight. Her breath came slow and steady, little sighs pressed into the pillow as if she knew what was coming. Smoke stood behind her, bare and hungry, one hand splayed on the small of her back, the other stroking down the curve of her ass, watching how her skin trembled under his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice husky with reverence and want, “You always know what I need before I do.”

She looked back at him, eyes heavy with love and lust, her mouth parted like she might whisper something. But she didn’t. She just watched him. Trusted him.

Smoke stepped forward, his body flush against hers, the thick head of him nudging between her slick folds. He teased her first, gliding slow against her entrance, letting her feel the weight of what was about to happen.

“Please, daddy.” she whispered. It was the softest thing, but it lit something wild in him.

“Where you want me?”

“Deep, daddy…”

“You wanna feel it in you gut, baby girl?”

“Please…”

“Beg while I slid in this wet pussy.”

“Pleasssseeee—”

He pushed in. Slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch. She gasped, her spine arching, head dropping forward, pressed hair styled in pin curls falling around her shoulders like a veil.

“Goddamn, you always feel like this?” he grunted, sinking deeper, gripping her hip like he might come undone from just the feel of her wrapped around him. “Tight…warm…made for me.”

She whimpered, pushing back against him as he began to move. His thrusts were deep and languid at first, savoring every moment. His hand slid from her back to her hip, then between her thighs, finding her center and rubbing gentle circles on her clit that made her cry out.

“You like it like this?” he asked, voice rasping against the back of her neck, “Me behind you, watching you take all this dick?”

She could only moan.

He bent low, chest to her back now, lips brushing the shell of her ear, “You’re mine when I’m like this,” he whispered, “Ain’t nobody ever gon’ love you like this. Ain’t nobody ever gon’ see you like I do.”

He kept his rhythm steady, deep strokes that dragged slow and hit something so perfect inside her she felt her legs tremble. His breath grew heavy against her neck, his hands tightening possessively. When her body began to quake, he reached around to cup her breast, squeezing it, whispering filth and love all in the same breath.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he groaned, “Give it to me. Let me feel that pretty pussy clutch on me.”

She cried out, her whole body bowing as the waves of pleasure washed through her. Her thighs trembled, her mouth open in a silent scream. Smoke gritted his teeth, trying to hold on, but the way she clenched around him all wet and pulsing sent him over the edge. He slammed in deep one last time, burying himself with a groan like it broke something loose in him.

For a long moment, there was only breath. Her body limp under his, his chest rising and falling against her back.

Then he kissed her spine, soft. Once. Twice.

“You good?” he whispered.

She nodded sleepily, still glowing.

He helped her turn over, pulled her into his arms, held her close.

And under the weight of the night and the slow spin of the fan overhead, Smoke whispered into her hair, “Ain’t no place I’d rather be than right here. Buried in you.”

_____________

She knew the way his hands moved. Real slow, certain, patient. He touched her like softly, like a man who had done wrong in the world but came home to her to be forgiven.

Her knees pressed into the mattress, the sheets cool beneath her thighs, but her body burned. She felt him behind her, all heat, all hunger, all heart. When his fingers slid along the curve of her ass and dipped between her folds, she moaned. Not from surprise. From relief. From recognition. He always knew where to touch.

He teased her first. Just the tip, thick and heavy, running through the slickness he drew from her so easily. Her hips shifted back, greedy now, her body aching for more.

“Please,” she whispered, not out of weakness, but need. Out of how safe she felt in the giving.

And then he entered her. Deep. Slow. Like he wanted her to feel every inch of what belonged to her.

Her lips parted around a gasp because he filled her in ways that made her question her name, her bones, her very soul. Every time, it felt like the first time. A little stretch, a little burn, and then that sweet slide that made her toes curl and her heart pound.

“You feel like heaven,” he grunted behind her. His voice was thick, his chest brushing her back now, his hand sliding around to toy with the tip of her breast. She moaned.

Arched.

His words soaked into her skin, branding her.

You’re mine…Ain’t nobody ever gon’ love you like this.

And she believed it. Because it wasn’t just how he moved inside her, it was how he looked at her. Like she was the answer to something he’d been trying to solve since birth. When her orgasm came, it wasn’t just pleasure, it was complete surrender. Her body pulsed around him, and she cried out his name, her voice raw with truth. He followed, groaning her name into her skin, flooding her with everything he had.

And when it was over, when he helped her turn over and tucked her into his arms, whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling her hair, she knew one thing for certain.

It wasn’t the stroke that wrecked her.

It was the way he saw her.

____________

After Smoke blew her back out real good, She stood by the stove, stirring tea with honey, her silk robe barely tied. Smoke watched her from the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, silent. The curls of her hair were messy, a little frizzed from the steam. Her brown skin glistened under the low light of the lamp.

He thought he was done. He really did. But looking at her, looking all good and freshly fucked the way she is, he couldn’t help himself.

“I know you watching me,” she said softly without turning, “You just gon’ stand there and stare like that?”

Smoke didn’t deny it. He stepped forward, slow, “Can’t help it. I’m memorizin’.”

She finally turned, her eyes catching his. They were soft. Sure.

“Mmm. Sound like you tryna say somethin’ sweet so I let you in my bed again.”

“Bed ain’t where I wanna be,” Smoke paused, “Least not right away.”

“Oh really? Then where you wanna be?”

“Then come do something about it.”

sets the cigarette down in the ashtray, voice dropping)

“Right behind you, baby.”

She urns, watching him closely now.

“You talk a big game.”

Smoke stepped closer, lips at her ear, “I play bigger.”

voice soft, she says, “Come show me, then.”

He’s silent. She can feel him looking. Then the mattress dips behind her. His hands grip her hips like he owns every curve.

And he did.

He took the mug from her hands, set it aside. Pulled her close, pressed her against the counter, and kissed her. Nice and slow at first, then deeper. He picked her up without a word, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her across the sheets like something precious.

She doesn’t say anything—just climbs onto the bed, slow, face forward, that robe rising up over her thighs as she lowers to her hands and knees. And when she arched her back, something inside him snapped.

Something primal.

“You already wet, ain’t you?”

“Mmmhmm…”

Smoke thumbed over her folds, groaning.

“Damn. Drippin’ for me.”

She spoke breathy, “I been thinkin’ about you all day.”

“Yeah? Thinkin’ what?”

“You been away too long, daddy. You know how this pussy get when you ain’t here to feed her and drink from her. Thinkin’ how good daddy feels inside me. How full I get. How deep daddy go.”

Smoke groaned, “Say it again.”

She moans as he glides the head of his dick against her entrance.

“You hear that shit? Fuck…”

“I’m so wet…”

“Leaking, baby…”

“Get in your pussy…”

His hands gripped her hips with, fingers spreading across that beautiful brown skin. He was already throbbing, slick with her heat, the scent of her flooding his senses. Smoke entered her slow. Deep. Until their bodies were flush and her breath shuddered out of her. His voice cracked a little as he pushes in slow.

“Fuck, yes—just like that. Take it… take all this dick, girl.”

She cries out, grabbing the sheets. He rocks into her, deep and steady. Her body slaps back against his, the sound slick and sinful.

“Fuck… you so thick. I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You always take me. You was made for this dick.”

She choked on a gasp.

“Deeper…”

“You greedy tonight, huh?” Smoke grunts as he drives in deeper, “Talkin’ all sweet and soft just to get me to fuck the soul outta you.”

She smiling through the moans, “It’s workin’, ain’t it?”

Smoke laughed low, dark, “Smart mouth.”

He leans forward, one hand sliding between her legs, rubbing slow.

Smoke:

“Feel that? That lil’ spot right there?”

“Y-yes! Baby—right there—”

“That’s mine pussy.”

“It’s yours… all of me is.”

Smoke growled against her neck, “You gon’ come for me?”

“I’m close—keep goin’, please—”

“I got you, baby. You know I do.”

She came undone. Smoke continued pumping her from behind. Filling that slick heat with his thick dick.

“Damn,” he breathed, “You take me like you need it.”

“You love fucking me like this…”

She moaned something soft and sweet, pressing back against him, that little body clenching around him like it didn’t want to let go. He moved slow at first. Long strokes. His eyes glued to the way her ass bounced, the way her back curved like poetry.

“You know what this pussy do to me?” he groaned, “You know what it is to me?”

She reached back blindly, her fingers brushing his thigh. “It’s yours.”

His eyes rolled. He gripped her harder and gave her what she asked for. His pace deepened, his voice turned gravelly with desire.

He bent forward, lips on her ear, “I ever tell you how fuckin’ beautiful you are like this? Bent over, taking all of me?”

She cried out when he reached around to stroke her clit, his fingers slick, skilled, relentless.

She came in a wave of sound and shaking, her body squeezing him tight. He groaned loud, almost pained, and spilled into her with a final thrust that rattled the headboard.

She collapsed onto the bed, breathless, glowing. He followed, pulling her onto her side, chest to her back, wrapping her in warmth.

“You alright, baby?” he murmured.

She hummed a yes, barely conscious, smile playing on her lips.

He kissed the back of her neck. “You wore me out.”

She giggled.

“Gon’ have me out here weak. Begging,” he whispered. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

She turned in his arms, their legs tangled now. Her fingers traced his jaw, “I do.”

He kissed her then. Slow. Sweet.

And outside, the cicadas still sang. But inside this little room, nothing moved except two hearts beating in rhythm.

[moth2flamewriting]

What You Spit, I Swallowed (Smoke Moore x Annie x Stack Moore)

Preview: “I’ll beat the breaks off a nigga for touchin’ you,” Smoke said. “You lucky I didn’t.”

Warning ⚠️: They're a Trio. Ya'll gon' feel some things.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N - I realized I could only edit this for so long and I actually had to post it 🤪 I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘

My Masterlist ___

Smoke watched from the living room as Annie bustled around the house making sure everything was just right. The kitchen. The powder room. The cellar which nobody would see. Everything needed to be just right. 

The roast was in the oven. Table set. Wine poured. Annie stood at the counter, smoothing her hands down the front of her apron, then across the napkins again, though they didn’t need fixing.

“Can y’all just be civil? Please?” she said without turning. “For me. I just want to have  a nice dinner tonight. As a family.”

She used that word a lot. Family. Said it like a prayer, a promise. Like saying it out loud might turn it true.

The boys knew better.

Stack was leaning against the archway, a little too relaxed, wine already heavy in his hand.

“I’m always civil,” he grinned. “I’m a delight.”

Smoke didn’t say anything at first. Just sat back at the table, stiff as iron, nursing a glass of whisky like medicine. He’d need it tonight. They both would.

“I ain’t lying to nobody,” he muttered, low.

Annie sighed. Not because she disagreed — but because she understood.

They weren’t happy about this. Never had been. Melody had a way of turning Annie into someone else — smaller, unsure. And the boys hated that. Hated watching the bold, beautiful woman they loved contort herself to keep the peace. To keep her peace.

So when Annie told them that Melody was gonna be in town and wanted to visit, the news wasn’t met with enthusiasm.  When they protested she had shut them down, said that special word — family — and the boys knew they didn’t have a chance at dissuading her. 

She laid down the final plate and crossed the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel that didn’t need cleaning. Her shoulders were tight. Her smile too practiced.

Melody was Annie’s half-sister. Same father, different everything else. Product of an affair that tore Annie’s whole world sideways and maybe even took her mother to the grave.

She was pretty, and soft-spoken when it served her. But she had a way of reaching back into Annie’s life like she had a claim to it. Like their shared blood gave her a right to rewrite things. Rewrite her.

Melody said things like they’d grown up hand-in-hand. Like Annie hadn’t spent her real childhood alone, and Melody hadn’t moved in only after her world fell apart. 

She touched too casually. Said too much. Knew too little.

And yet… Annie kept trying. Trying to stitch something together out of all the scraps they’d been handed. Trying to make a family out of splinters.

There was a knock at the door.

The roast was carved. Greens passed. Biscuits buttered and cooling fast.

On the surface, everything looked like a proper supper. But Smoke hadn’t touched much of his food, and Stack had started drinking like the only way through the night was to float on top of it.

Melody leaned back in her chair, swirling her glass like she had something wise to say. Her gaze landed on the cornbread.

“Reminds me of when Mama used to burn the bottoms,” she said with a giggle. “She’d scrape off the black parts with a knife and pretend it was on purpose. Said it ‘kept you humble.’”

Annie’s fork paused mid-air.

Stack didn’t look up, but his mouth twitched.

“You remember that, don’t you?” Melody added, too quick. “That little yellow-handled knife she used for everything?”

Annie swallowed. Set her fork down quiet.

“She wasn’t my mama.”

Melody blinked, like she hadn’t expected that to sting.

“Well—no, obviously,” she said, waving a hand like it was silly to be so exact. “I just meant… your most recent mama. I mean, she was in the house.”

“She was in the house,” Annie said evenly. 

Melody laughed, high and a little breathless, like she could laugh her way out of what just happened.

“Well,” she said, putting her glass down, “family’s funny like that, huh?” She added before placing a hand on Annie’s forearm.

Smoke’s eyes followed the movement with precision.

“So,” Melody said brightly, trying to start a conversation “y’all ever thought about kids?”

The question hung there, syrupy sweet with expectation.

Annie blinked. “We— We’ll know when we’re ready.”

Melody’s husband Frank leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show.

The man chuckled, low and grating. “Ain’t it about time though? Clock don’t wait forever. ‘Specially for women.”

Smoke’s knuckles tightened around his fork.

“I gotta admit,” he said, folding his arms over his chest, “I didn’t know what to expect, comin’ out here. Lotta stories floatin’ ‘round town.”

Stack’s eyes flicked up from his plate. Smoke didn’t move.

“Oh yeah?” Annie said, keeping her voice polite. “And what kinda stories are those?”

The man shrugged, like he was being reasonable.

“Just… folks wondering how something like this works. Three people under one roof. Two men sharin’ a woman —brothers at that. Sounds more like trouble than a marriage.”

Smoke still didn’t look up. But Annie could feel the shift. Like pressure building under floorboards.

“I mean, hell. Where I’m from, we call that a love triangle, not a household.”

Annie opened her mouth, but Stack beat her to it — voice easy, even playful.

“Well lucky for us, you ain’t from here.”

Melody gave her husband a look — the kind that meant you’re doin’ too much — but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I just think kids need structure,” he said, “Two fathers under one roof? That’s confusion, not discipline.”

Now Smoke looked up. Real slow.

“You do a lot of childrearing yourself?” he asked.

The man blinked. “Beg your pardon?”

“You talkin’ like you got a full house somewhere. How many you got?” the man had a menacing smile plastered on his face.

“…None yet.”

“Then hush.”

The man frowned. Then Frank reached across the table — not for the biscuits, not for the salt. For the gravy boat.

But instead of asking, he leaned in close, placing a steadying hand on Annie’s shoulder as he reached.

His thumb brushed against the strap of her dress.

Too familiar. Too firm.

“’Scuse me, darlin’,” he said, casual like he did it all the time.

It wasn’t the touch — it was the way he didn’t rush to remove it.

Smoke saw it. So did Stack.

And Annie flinched — just slightly — but enough to be noticed.

That should’ve been enough. But Melody’s hand went out — again — brushing Annie’s arm like they were girls sharing secrets instead of strangers dressed in matching last names.

"Mama used to say, ‘Ain’t no shame in wantin’ a real man.’ Guess you took that to heart, huh, sis? You went and got yourself two!"

Annie winced once more. It was soft, but Smoke saw it. And that was the last straw.

Smoke set his glass down. Quiet. Too quiet.

“You need to stop touchin’ her so casually.” he said pointing at the woman.

Melody’s hand stilled against Annie’s arm. Her smile wavered.

“Excuse me?”

“Smoke,” Annie said quickly, trying to smile, trying to control the room. “It’s fine.”

He didn’t blink. “It ain’t.”

Stack leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed but not joking anymore. “He’s right. You don’t know her like that. You ain’t earned the right.”

Melody’s brows arched, scandalized.

Annie stepped in faster this time, voice low but firm.

“Enough.”

She turned toward Smoke, hand light on his shoulder. His muscles were rigid beneath her palm.

“She’s family,” she said softly. “Let’s not do this right now.”

Stack leaned back, sucked his teeth, clearly biting something back. Smoke didn’t move at all.

“She ain’t family to me,” Smoke muttered.

“She is to me,” Annie snapped. “And that should be enough.”

That silenced the table — just long enough for Melody’s husband to break it again.

“Well,” he said, with a smirk, “nice to see someone wearing the pants in this house.”

Stack’s jaw tightened.

“Stack,” Annie warned, before he could speak.

He didn’t. But the damage was done.

Melody giggled, smoothing her napkin on her lap like nothing had happened.

Annie went to gather the plates.

“Dinner’s done,” she said. “Why don’t we move to the sitting room? I’ll bring coffee.”

She didn’t look at Smoke. Didn’t look at Stack either. She just carried the dishes to the kitchen, heart pounding, wishing it all felt less like a lie.

_

The front door clicked shut.

Silence.

Not the quiet kind, but the loaded kind. The kind that rattled inside your chest and made your ears ring.

Annie stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed tight, like she was bracing for impact.

Smoke’s jaw flexed. Stack didn’t move.

For a beat, nobody breathed.

Annie exhaled, hard. “Don’t start.”

“I ain’t startin’. I’m finishin’. The hell was that?” Smoke’s voice cut through the kitchen.

She turned, dish towel clenched tight in her hands. “What was what, Smoke?”

“You told me to stand down. You just about told Stack to shut up. While they sat at our table, runnin’ they mouths and touchin’ you like they know you.”

“They’re family.”

“No,” he snapped. “They’re not. That man disrespected you. And her? She touched you like she’s the one that tucks you in at night.”

“Stop it.”

Stack stepped in carefully, voice low. “She made you flinch, baby. We saw it. You don’t flinch with us.”

Annie bit her lip. Hard.

“I just wanted one peaceful night. I didn’t want a scene.”

“You wanted peace—so you offered us up like sacrificial lambs,” Smoke said, voice growing sharp.

“That ain’t fair.”

“No? You let her talk like y’all shared a childhood. Let that man spit on our marriage with a smile. Then told me to hush?”

“You think I don’t know who she is?” Annie’s voice cracked “I lived with her. She slept in my mama’s bed two weeks after she was buried. She was Daddy’s second chance and my reminder that I’d already lost.”

Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry.

“I was just trying to keep the damn evening from fallin’ apart. You think I liked it? You think I didn’t hear every little dig, every look, every word?”

“Then why the hell ain’t you say somethin’?” Stack asked. 

“Because I’m tired!” she shouted. “Tired of everything bein’ a fight. Tired of defendin’ my choices, my house, my men. I just wanted a quiet dinner!”

Smoke’s voice dropped cold. “Then don’t invite people who only show up to remind you that you alone.”

Annie’s shoulders pulled back like he’d struck her. 

“Alone?”

“You got us. But when they’re here, you act like you don’t.”

The room felt smaller. Angrier. Like the walls were listening.

“I ain’t the one you should be mad at, Annie,” Smoke said.

“No. You’re just the one who wants to be mad for me.” Annie didn’t look at him.

He leaned back. Only slightly. But Stack caught it. Smoke prided himself on taking care of his family. He’d be the bad guy if it meant that they were ok. So for Annie to throw that in his face? It was low. 

Annie turned on him. “What? Go on then. Call me out my name. You been waitin’ all night.”

“I been waitin’ for you to stop pretendin’ you owe that woman somethin’. Stop shrinkin’ yourself so she can feel taller.”

“And I been waitin’ for you to realize the world don’t revolve around your damn temper!”

“Y’all—” Stack tried.

“Elias, stay out of it.” She pointed at him.

That did it. Stack’s hands dropped. He stepped back, mouth flat.

Smoke’s voice turned dangerously soft. “You tellin’ him to stay out, but you let them strangers walk right in and put hands on what’s mine?”

Annie’s nostrils flared. She stepped in close.

“Don’t talk to me about ownership. I’m not some bitch you can pull by the leash when I embarrass you.”

Stacks head whipped around. Shock coloured his face. 

“Annie. Don’t,” Stack warned softly — they didn’t talk like this to each other. 

Smoke’s voice dropped low and clipped. “You gon’ wanna be real careful with me right now, woman.”

“Or what?” Annie challenged. “You gon’ bark louder? Show me why everybody outside scared of you?”

He stepped forward. Stack moved fast, blocking him.

“Enough.” Stack said. “We don’t do this shit. This ain’t us.”

“No,” Annie said. “This is exactly who we are. Pretendin’ this ain’t built on shaky ground.”

Looked like Frank’s words had planted a seed. 

Stack moved like she’d slapped him.

“You think it’s shaky?” Smoke’s voice shook. “You think we ain’t holdin’ you up every day? Lovin’ you, buildin’ you back from the goddamn inside?”

His voice cracked — just slightly.

“I would burn this house down to protect you,” he said, softer now. “And you out here handin’ matches to people who never cared whether you froze.”

“She disrespected you, Annie,” Stack said, voice stiff. “Right to your face. And you smiled through it. Made us smile through it too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Annie laughed bitterly. “Was I supposed to let y’all growl and swing your dicks like dogs markin’ a tree?”

“Watch your mouth,” Smoke said slowly.

“No—you watch yours. I let you bark, posture. The minute I asked you to sit like a man, you sulked like a whipped boy.”

There it was. The heat. The disrespect.

“Annie…” Stack said, quiet, alarmed. 

“I’ll beat the breaks off a nigga for touchin’ you,” Smoke said. “You lucky I didn’t.”

“Elijah—they’re family.” she tried to plead.

“So you gotta put up with disrespect?”

Annie threw her hands up, all syrup and sass. “The Moores got morals tonight!”

Stack cursed under his breath. Smoke went still as death.

“Fix them lips to say somethin’ crazy again, Annie,” Smoke warned. “See if I don’t remind you why you call me daddy.”

She tilted her head. “You sassin’?”

“C’mon now y’all…” Stack said half-terrified.

Smoke stepped closer, his voice dropping into something dark and dangerous. “It’s gon’ be real hard to take you serious if you got my seed drippin’ from your hole. Test me.”

Annie’s throat bobbed. She was gonna take that bait.

“Do not,” Stack said, sharp and urgent.

Too late.

“Annie’s sorry — ain’t ya, baby?” he tried, reaching for a lifeline.

“The hell I am,” she snapped.

“Don’t be a hero,” Stack warned, tension threading through his voice. “He gon’ turn you out, and I’ma join him.”

Annie looked at him, eyes glittering. Daring them both.

Smoke started up once more, “We’ll paint your insides white just how you like it. Remind you you the property of the Moores — no one else’s.”

“Property? That’s what I am to you?” she shot back. “A place to plant your damn flag?”

He shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

“I ain’t land. You don’t own me.”

“You act like disrespectin’ us is rent you pay,” he shot back, voice cold. 

That line came from somewhere deep — deeper than Smoke usually let show.

“If I’m so damn disrespectful,” Annie stepped in close, venom curling her words, “why you still crawlin’ back to this disrespectful pussy every night?”

Stack looked away. Smoke didn’t blink.

“That’s right,” she pressed. “You talk all this mine mine mine shit, but you only feel like a man when I’m on my knees, beggin’ for it.”

“Fix them lips, woman,” he said, low and mean.

“What? You don’t like it when I talk back? Only like me with your dick down my throat?”

“It make a fine picture.” Stack muttered from the side. 

“I like it when you remember who’s keepin’ you safe. Lovin’ you every goddamn day while you spit in our faces.” Smoke reasoned.

“I’m done talking to you.” she spoke lowly. 

“C’mon now,” Smoke said, voice soft and twisted. “Say somethin’ real filthy. You good at that when your jaw’s slack and your legs spread.”

“Smoke,” Stack snapped. “You know what you doin’. Stop provokin’ her.”

“Nah,” Smoke said without even looking at him. “She a big girl. She can take whatever daddy dish out, right?”

Stack stepped in. “It ain’t fair, Smoke. You know it ain’t fair.”

Smoke paused. Just a second. There were two of them. One of her. It was unbalanced. Always would be.

He sighed, started to lift a hand — maybe to apologize.

But he didn’t get the chance.

Annie spat in his face.

It hit his cheek and stuck.

For one sharp breath, nobody moved.

Annie stood perfectly still, chest rising hard. Her jaw clenched, eyes shining—not with tears, but with fury. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

Then Smoke cracked.

Stack caught him hard at the chest, shoving him back.

“Don’t.”

Smoke went still.

The spit clung to his cheek, hot and humiliating. He didn’t wipe it. Just stared — right at her.

Annie’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Her spine was stiff, posture defiant. But there was something flickering in her eyes now. 

“I wanna fuck that disrespect right outta her,” he muttered, voice low and rough.

He stepped toward her — not to strike, but to claim, to punish her with the only kind of control he knew wouldn’t break her.

Annie’s breath caught. Just barely.

Stack stepped in fast — arm out, body angled between them.

“And we don’t do things that way,” he snapped, sharp and firm.

Their eyes locked. For a long, brittle second, it felt like something might break.

“You want her like that? Broken?” Stack asked his brother. 

The picture he painted with that statement stung. 

He didn’t want her like that. Giving in because she didn’t have a choice. Because he “bested” her. 

He wanted it offered to him, because she felt like he deserved it. He didn’t wanna take it. 

“You keep pushin’, you gon’ scare her,” Stack said, quieter now. “And she don’t deserve that from you.”

That stopped him.

Smoke’s jaw ticked hard, and he deflated. 

Behind Stack, Annie was still frozen in place—arms locked at her sides, as if afraid any movement might shatter the silence.

“Take a walk,” Stack added. “Right now. Before you say somethin’ you can’t unsay.”

Smoke didn’t move.

“I got her,” Stack said, gentler now. “You… go cool off.”

Finally, Smoke blinked. Swallowed. His eyes never left Annie.

“You make sure she’s okay,” he said, hoarse.

“I got her.”

Then he turned and walked out — quiet, controlled, like a storm bottled in a man.

Annie stood frozen.

Then sat — slow and stiff — like someone letting herself fall without a net.

Stack stayed standing, chest heaving like he’d just run a race.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t answer.

He dropped to a knee beside her.

“He lost his temper. He shouldn’t’ve. You know that.”

She nodded — barely.

“I made him,” she said.

“No,” Stack replied. “You matched him. That’s different.”

A beat passed. He reached for her hand.

“You still ours,” he said. “Ain’t nothin’ shifted in that.”

She squeezed once. 

“He didn’t even flinch,” she whispered. “But his eyes… they changed.”

Stack squeezed her hand. “He was mad. That don’t mean he stopped carin’.”

“He’s scared. Same as you,” Stack said. “That’s what it is—fear dressed up as fire.”

She exhaled hard, like she’d been holding her breath for hours.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You meant it,” he cut in gently but firm. “Don’t lie to me.”

That shut her up. Her mouth pressed into a hard line.

“You meant it,” Stack said again, softer this time, “and that’s what’s eatin’ him up.”

Silence fell between them. Heavy. Thick with things they couldn’t take back.

She looked toward the door, then back at Stack.

“You mad at me too?”

He sighed. “Don’t matter what I’m feelin’. You’re my wife. My family. I stand with you—even when I don’t like how it went down.”

“I’m sorry, Stack,” she whispered.

He gave a small shrug. “Don’t be sorry. Be sure.”

Then he stood and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Her eyes fluttered closed at the touch.

“I'm gon’ fix my plate again,” he murmured. “If I don’t eat, I get mean.”

That earned him the smallest laugh. But it was what he needed to hear. Enough to know she was still with him.

“I set aside your favourite,” she murmured, voice rough but soft. “Kept it warm in the oven… in that little dish with the blue trim. Knew you’d want a snack later.”

He paused, and his eyes flicked to hers — just for a second. That did something to him.

“Always lookin’ out,” he said, almost to himself.

Then, quieter: “Love you, baby.”

One more kiss to her head. Then he turned for the kitchen, shoulders squared a little taller than before.

__

The door creaked open.

Smoke stood in the threshold like he wasn’t sure he had the right to come back in. Smoke looked different. Not unraveled — not quite. But quieted. Like whatever storm had rolled through him had lost its bite, leaving behind a man instead of a tempest.

Annie didn’t turn. She sat curled on the couch, knees tucked beneath her, her hand still in Stack’s. The fire had burned low, its glow casting soft shadows across the room. Silence pressed in like fog.

Smoke stepped inside, slow and cautious, like a man testing floorboards for landmines. His eyes found her first. She didn’t flinch. But she didn’t look up, either.

“I scared you,” he said, voice low.

No one answered.

He stood there a beat longer, hat in hand, shoulders heavy.

“I talked about ownin’ you. Fuckin’ the disrespect outta you,” he went on, his voice thick. “That ain’t love talk. That’s not somethin’ you say to the woman you love.”

Annie shifted slightly. Stack’s thumb moved gently over her knuckles.

“I ain’t proud of it,” Smoke murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Still, neither of them spoke.

Smoke let out a breath through his nose, rough around the edges.

“I was mad you shut us down,” he said. “Mad you didn’t let us defend you. But I didn’t come at you like a husband. I came at you like a man who forgot what kind of woman he had.”

That made her look up.

Her eyes were still red, but she met his gaze steady.

“You did scare me,” she said softly.

Stack’s jaw ticked, but Annie gave his hand a squeeze—like she was okay.

“And I hurt y’all too,” she added. “Shut you down in your own home. Made you feel unheard. That wasn’t right.”

She stood, slow and deliberate. Smoke didn’t move.

“You and Stack… you’re my peace,” she said. “My anchor. And tonight I treated you like a storm. All ‘cause I let my past talk louder than the two men who actually built something with me.”

She stepped toward Smoke now, close enough her chest brushed his.

“I’m sorry I spit,” she said, quieter still. “That was… uncalled for. And beneath me.”

Smoke’s brow furrowed, something soft and pained flickering in his eyes. His hand came up, cradling her jaw.

“You still ours?” he asked.

She nodded once.

“Yours. Always.”

Behind them, Stack smiled to himself. 

Then Annie turned to Stack.

The man looked caught off guard—his brows lifted, lips parting like he wasn’t expecting the spotlight.

“I’m sorry I made you feel secondary today, baby,” she said. “Like your opinion didn’t matter. Like you were less than.”

“Whoa, now—I ain’t say all that,” Stack replied, lifting a hand.

“You didn’t have to,” she murmured. “I see now what I was doing. And it was wrong. You’re every bit a part of this, and I treated you like a bystander. I’m sorry, Elias. Truly.”

Stack blinked. For a second, he didn’t know what to say.

Smoke chimed in, voice low. “And thank you.”

Stack looked over.

“I was losin’ my head in here,” Smoke said. “And you got me right. You always do.”

“Well,” Stack drawled, clearing his throat and smoothing down his collar. “Now that y’all mention it… you right. I am the star of today’s show. Glad that’s been properly acknowledged.”

That earned him a chuckle from both Annie and Smoke.

He folded his arms and leaned back, cocky as ever. He thrusted his chin at Annie “You can show me your gratitude in peach cobbler.”

Annie arched a brow. “Peach cobbler?”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t cheap out it either. I need hella peaches in there.” he said dead serious. 

“And you—” he looked at Smoke, “you can take stock at the juke for the next week.”

“Three days,” Smoke countered.

“Five.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it, solemn as preachers. 

Annie laughed—quiet, but real—and turned to glance over her shoulder.

“Well,” Stack said, breaking the lingering tension with a dry drawl, “now that everyone’s sorry… can we go back to actin’ like Melody’s husband don’t eat with his damn mouth open and ask questions like ‘what y’all do for money’ like he ain’t got food crumbs in his mustache?”

Annie barked a laugh. Smoke cracked a grin despite himself.

“Mm,” Annie said, eyes dancing, “maybe I’ll go spit on him next time.”

Smoke raised a brow. “You better not. I’m the only one gettin’ that kind of disrespect.”

She smirked. “So… the ‘fuckin’ the disrespect outta me’ thing… that still on the table, or?”

Stack groaned, loud and dramatic, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m leavin’ the room.”

“No, no,” Annie said quickly, reaching out to stop him. Her voice softened. “I want all my boys,” she murmured. “My family. With me tonight.”

Stack froze.

Smoke looked up at her—really looked.

Smoke’s lips brushed her temple. Stack kissed her shoulder.

The house, so loud just an hour ago, fell to hush.

Just heartbeats.

Just them.

And the slow, quiet burn of still belonging to one another.

__

A/N Thought I'd give ya'll a variation of some angst for the trio but I'd actually end it off so I don't leave you in perpetual pain like I did in Touch of a Woman 🤪 For those curious about what fic in this AU would come after this... you'd enjoy Signed in Crayon, Sealed in Cash 💰

Always eager to hear your thoughts and encouragement it keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

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[moth2flamewriting]

That's Just My Babydaddy

life is done beating my ass so here.

smut to hold u over til part 2 of Publicity Stunt.

annie x elijah 'smoke' moore

warning: fucking, fucking AND MORE FUCKING! 😬

as always,

ENJOY.

"You always popping up over here like you own this shit!" She was yelling at him. As usual. He was such a control freak. Part of why she left him in the FIRST place.

Who did he think he was? Aint it when you break up with somebody they leave you alone?

"Annie, my son live here. I can be here whenever I want to," he spat. For him, it was always something with her.

"Smoke, he not even here. He wit' my mama. Dumbass nigga," she snarled.

"Good, better chances of me getting some while I'm here," he smirked.

It's not like it was bizarre. They couldn't stop fucking. No matter how hard they tried. Couldnt move on and couldn't stop fucking. Annie was trying though. It was impossible to let that dick go.

"You're not getting shit from me," it came out in a low growl.

"Don't tell me you're still mad I had to work and couldn't get the boy," he chuckled. How the fuck do she think he affording him.

"Oh please, you let him down again," now she was walking away from him.

'Damn she got a fat ass' he thought to himself. Knowing better than to say it out loud.

Following her into the kitchen, "Annie can you please try to understand? I'm trynna build something FOR HIM."

"You always 'tryin' to do fucking something," she sighed.

"And you aint ever tryin to hear shit," he growled.

He saw that as an in. Back still to him, he walked up behind her. Not touching her. Close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off of him.

And trust, she felt him.

A deep sigh to calm her jumping nerves. She could smell him. Burberry Touch. She bought that for him. He knew exactly what that smell on him, did to her.

"E-e-lijah, back up off me nie," she swallows, placing her hands at the edge of the counter to steady herself.

"What you gon do if I don't?" you could hear his smirk.

His dick was growing in his pants. Big enough for her to feel it rubbing lightly against her ass.

Subconsciously, she leans into him. Pressing her pussy up against the buldge. Starting high and sliding her way down slowly.

She was dripping from the thought of him.

"You always come here playing," she breathed out.

He was pressing himself into her now. Still hadn't touched her. Let her pleasure herself on his hardened member. Grinding up and down on him, slow and deliberate.

"Oooh shit, Smoke," she moaned out. He was so big. Dick sliding in between her ass and down to her opening.

He flipped up her moomoo.

Her panties were soaking wet. Leaving a trail of juice on the front of his sweats.

"You feel that big ass dick baby?" Still holding steady behind her.

"Keep rubbing that pussy on me, you always gon have the best pussy," Smoke groaned.

She bent over, arching her ass up. Thrusting back slapping herself against him. She was begging for it.

"Stand up," he boomed. Without hesitation, she did it.

"Fuck, you really gotta stop coming over here unannounced," she breathed. She didn't know what he had over her. Why she just did what he asked. Even if she didn't want to.

"You hate to admit that you always gon be a lil slut for me Annie," he chuckled.

Reaching under her clothes and ripping the panties off her body.

She swayed forward, shocked by the sudden movement.

Her underwear sopping. Taking deep shallow breaths.

He slapped her ass. "Oo shit," she groaned. It stung. It had her leaking.

"Arms up," he demanded again.

His hands at them bottom of her gown, pulled up over her head. Now she was naked. Body glistening.

"Mmm," he licked his lips. "You lookin' good Big Mama."

He grabbed the back of her neck. Forcing her to bend over again.

He gripped the wasteband of his sweats and underwear and released the monster out of his pants.

Bending his knees, he slapped it right against her entrance.

"I feel that dick baby," she whined. Eyes rolling in the back of her head.

Grunts coming from behind her and he wasn't even in it yet.

He rocked his hips back and forth coating himself in her slickness. Reveling at the friction he let out a string of cuss words. Head falling back as he felt her pussy trying to catch the head of his dick.

He slapped her ass again, "Be still on my dick."

"Shit," she hissed. Stilled her movements.

Resting her face on the cold counter, taking deep breaths as she felt him line himself up. The head of his member teasing her entrance.

"Put it in me, Smoke. Don't play when you in this pussy," Annie begged.

His head broke the space between them. He missed being inside her. She was so tight and warm. Pushing to the edge. Holding her hips, he sunk into her.

"Fuck this pussy bout to make me nut," he sounded out of breath. Out of control.

"Nut in this pussy Papa," movement slowed as she slid up and down on him.

"Smoke you fillin' me up, that dick- I-i," she couldn't speak.

He thrusted into her, hitting the bottom of her pussy.

"Fuck," they moaned together.

Picking up the pace, he slammed into her. Over and over. She was losing all control over her body, just trying to hold on while he beat her out her body.

"You feel that baby? What you got deep in you?"

Her vision blurred hearing him. Mouth agape. "That big ass dick. Pa, you diggin in me." She reached back, hand flat on his lower stomach. Trying to push him out.

"Oh you trynna run from me?" He plowed into her harder.

"Cum on this dick Big Mama," he growled. And she did. Soaking his dick from tip to base. Squirting with each thrust.

"You fuckin the shit out of me Smoke."

"You fucking me so good."

"FUCKKKKK, you got this pussy squirting."

"Why you fuckin me like this?"

She was losing her mind while she came on his dick.

He wasn't too far behind. Jackhammering into her pussy to get relief.

"Annie, I'm boutta give you another baby," tension rising is balls. She was draining him. Her pussy had a death grip on him.

Milking him.

"Elijah, I-I'ma cum again. Nut in me, you the only one who can bust in this pussy. Oh my god, yesss," she was cumming again.

"Open that pussy up for this nut," he grunted.

A few more quick thrust. And he emptied his seed inside of her. Coating her walls with warm, white liquid.

They gave a moment in between to come back down and to catch their breath.

"You really gotta stop nuttin in me," she sighed.

"I can't, you the only one I can't ever pull out of," he smirked.

"And that's exactly why you my babydaddy now," she laughed.

"Now," she paused in between. 

"Get the fuck out and stop poppin up over here unannounced."

the end.

ahhh. did yall miss me? 🥹 i missed yall muchhhhh. 💛 life be lifing huh? but we back. just wanted to treat ya. thanks for reading.

[moth2flamewriting]

(my mini edit)

Ya'll.... I cant stop thinking about how great their chemistry is. It gives GROWN love. Even the kissing with their eyes open. Given that they have a shared grief, they'll always have a connection, even in the afterlife. I understand why plenty of women (including me) loves smokes character.

[moth2flamewriting]

yall.. this chapter is so good. im so proud of it. 🥹 warning we jumping 6 months AHEAD 😭 so its some feelings involved this chapter 😁

[moth2flamewriting]

i'm comingggggg.

[moth2flamewriting]

Ties That Bind: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fic

Ties That Bind || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

This is Part 3 of the Savor Series.

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: NSFW, Fluff, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 8k+

Summary: With their relationship thriving and their businesses booming, Smoke and Annie are ready to take the next big step—homeownership. As they embark on the search for their dream home, Annie starts to notice something different. Smoke, usually the picture of cool confidence, seems tense—distracted even. Maybe it’s just the pressure of such a major decision... or maybe there’s something deeper stirring beneath the surface.

By the end of their search, it’s not just the countertops gleaming or the chandeliers catching the light. Something far more precious begins to shine.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ───── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

The spring breeze slipped through the cracked windows of the black Escalade, gliding over Annie’s skin like silk. The sun dipped behind dense tree branches as Smoke cruised through the quiet, picture perfect neighborhood of Ravenswood. Tucked on Chicago’s North Side, Ravenswood was known for its tree-lined streets, vintage charm, and architectural gems. It had a peacefulness to it that made Annie’s shoulders relax every time they passed a leafy park or saw a couple walking their dog.

It was their last house tour of the day, and after three days and ten viewings, they were both running on caffeine, hope, and playlist rotations. Still, there was a soft buzz in the air—of possibility, of change. After a year together, they’d made the decision to hunt for their dream home. It made sense. They were always between their apartments, with most nights ending in Annie curled up in Smoke’s bed, her satin bonnet on the pillow, and her toiletries gradually overtaking his bathroom counter. Half her wardrobe was already living in his closet.

They both loved their own spaces—it had helped keep their individual rhythms intact. But now? Now it was time to build something permanent.

Smoke, of course, made the whole process an event. Earlier in the week, he’d sent Annie out for a fresh set of nails and hair appointment, even slid her money for a shopping spree. Not that he didn’t spoil her regularly—he loved seeing her smile when she got surprise deposits for her maintenance days—but this time felt... different. His excitement was sweet, even a little overwhelming, but he insisted.

"This ain’t just any house," he’d said with that grin that always melted her. “Gotta look like a dream walkin’ into our dream.”

The house-hunting itself had been fun, if a little exhausting. They’d learned more about each other—how she adored bay windows and clawfoot tubs, while he was big on a chef’s kitchen and a full basement. He more so wanted the chef's kitchen for her. Some things they’d compromise on, others were non-negotiable. But none of the homes they’d toured so far had felt right. Close, but not the one. Smoke especially wasn’t one to settle.

Annie’s eyes wandered over to him. He was quiet—too quiet—and his fingers tapped anxiously against the steering wheel, out of rhythm with the mellow R&B humming through the speakers. His face was set in that deep concentration she knew well. She also recognized the tension in his jaw, the slight tremor in his fingers. His time in the army had left him with certain scars—ones that didn’t always show until moments like this.

But this wasn’t PTSD, not entirely.

This was something else.

She shifted in her seat and reached over, her hand finding the back of his neck. Her thumb moved in slow circles behind his ear, soothing, familiar. “Baby,” she said softly, her Louisiana drawl wrapping around the words, “you okay? We can always save this one for another day. This week’s been a lot.”

He glanced at her, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Not a full smile, but enough to quiet her concern a little. He pulled her hand from his neck and kissed the back of it, then held it in his, thumb stroking the soft skin between her knuckles.

“I’m fine, baby doll,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly. “I just—” He paused, weighing his next words. “I just feel like this could be the one. I found it online a while back and haven’t been able to get it outta my head since. But I wanted you to see all your picks first. I just hope you love it as much as I do.”

Annie smiled warmly, leaning over the console to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure I will. If it’s got you this twisted up, it must be somethin’ special.”

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His fingers tightened around hers.

“Honestly,” he said, “as soon as I saw it, I thought... Damn, this got Annie written all over it. That’s how I want home to feel.” He turned to look at her fully, his gaze tender as he stopped at a red light. “Like you.”

Her heart did that slow, deep flip it always did when he said something that felt like poetry but landed like truth.

She squeezed his hand and whispered optimistically, “Then let’s go see home.”

A few minutes later, Smoke eased the truck to a smooth stop in front of the last house on their list. Annie blinked at the sight before her, momentarily stunned.

The home stood proudly behind a sleek black wrought-iron fence, its manicured hedges and vibrant landscaping looking like something out of a design magazine. Its soft, creamy white paint contrasted beautifully against the bold, black-trimmed windows and the matte charcoal metal roof. Twin gables gave the front elevation a charming yet modern edge, while the wide front porch, lit by three hanging lanterns, felt warm and inviting.

Everything about the house whispered elegance and peace… and something else too. Stability. Legacy.

Annie’s voice was hushed. “Wow…”

Smoke put the car in park and looked over at her, gauging her reaction. “You like it?”

Her hand reached for the door handle, but she paused and looked at him. “Like it? It's so cute! I can see you out on the porch now smokin' a cigar.”

Smoke chuckled, his dimples deepening as he glanced toward the porch. “And I can see you bossin’ me around from the kitchen window, tellin’ me to put that thing out.”

Annie laughed, her eyes still glued to the house. “Only if you’re blowin’ smoke in the hydrangeas.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Fair enough.”

Smoke got out, rounded the front, and opened Annie’s door for her. “Come on, gorgeous,” he said, offering his hand.

Annie smiled and took it, letting him help her out of the SUV. The spring breeze played with the hem of her white sundress as she straightened up and looked toward the house again.

They walked together toward the front gate, the soft thump of the car door shutting behind them. The breeze carried the scent of freshly turned soil and faint traces of honeysuckle from the yard next door. Annie smoothed her dress again and tucked a curl behind her ear. Her kinky coils sat pretty on top of her head in a half-up, half-down style.

Smoke reached for her hand as they walked the stone pathway, lined with perfectly trimmed shrubs, low purple blooms, and a "For Sale" sign staked proudly in the yard.

“Did you notice the address?” he murmured.

Annie’s eyes shifted to the plaque mounted beside the front door: 4465.

Her brows lifted. “What about it?”

He smiled. “My mom’s birthday. April 4th, 1965.”

Annie blinked. Her lips parted, then closed again as she looked back at the house. “Elijah…” she breathed, her voice softer than the wind weaving through the trees.

“I told you,” Smoke said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, “it just felt right.”

Annie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Hear you loud and clear, Mama Moore,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. Then she looked up at him with a lifted brow. “Still a skeptic?” she asked, referring to her spiritual hoodoo practices and the consistent guidance of their ancestors. He didn't practice it, wasn't exactly a believer, but he respected her beliefs.

He smirked at her. “You know I have a hard time believin' in things I can't see, baby. But... I see you and I believe in ya and whateva you be doin' at that altar,” he said and winked before leading her up the stairs to the front door.

Annie’s heart warmed at his words. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach in anticipation as he knocked on the door.

Soon the door opened revealing a petite brunette, with a bubbly smile dressed business casual. “Hi, I'm Amber the realtor,” she said sweetly, hand out to shake Smoke's hand. “You must be the Moores, it's nice to meet you.”

Smoke shook her hand and returned the pleasantry, then Annie. Annie smiled, enjoying the sound of “the Moores.”

Amber welcomed them inside and informed them they could look around freely.

“If you have any questions or need anything, just let me know,” she said as she stepped back into the staged office to the right of the entryway.

They returned a thank you and began looking around.

On the opposite side of the hallway was a formal dining room with wainscoting wall panels, a coffered ceiling, and a long walnut table set for eight. Annie ran her fingers over the velvet dining chairs, imagining Sunday dinners and holiday laughter echoing off the walls.

Further inside, they stepped into the kitchen—and Annie stopped in her tracks.

“Smoke…” she whispered, eyes wide.

Soft oak cabinetry framed by gold hardware lined the walls. The marble-topped island was massive, surrounded by elegant upholstered stools with gold bases. Enough space to prepare food for their family and friends. Above it, three globe pendant lights hung from the ceiling like jewelry, casting a warm, golden glow.

“Damn,” Smoke murmured, genuinely impressed. “This is you all day.”

Annie nodded, taking it all in—the built-in double ovens, the walk-in pantry, the custom range hood with gold detailing, and the glimmering backsplash. A vase of fresh tulips sat on a golden tray in the middle of the island.

She smiled. “I’d never leave this kitchen.”

“Bet,” he said, eyeing her with a teasing smile. “Guess I’ll have to make you dinner from time to time to lure you out.”

They continued exploring, their footsteps tapping on the wide-plank hardwood floors. The living room was warm and sophisticated, featuring more coffered wood ceilings that made Annie stop and tilt her head up in awe.

“I love this,” she whispered.

The space was anchored by a stone fireplace and tall windows that bathed the room in natural light. Everything felt intentional, down to the textured area rug and plush sectional.

They wandered through a few bedrooms on the first and second floor, each uniquely staged with soft linens and thoughtful décor. Smoke peeked into one of the bathrooms, all six of which featured sleek tile, spacious vanities, and rainfall showers.

“They weren’t playin’,” he said.

The master bedroom was pure luxury. A tray ceiling added dimension to the room, while a large bay window let in gentle light. Annie stepped inside and exhaled with wonder. The king-sized bed, draped in layers of plush white and cream, faced a fireplace and wall-mounted flat-screen.

Smoke opened a nearby door that revealed the en suite bathroom, and they both stepped inside.

“My goodness,” Annie said under her breath.

A gleaming clawfoot tub sat beneath a chandelier, backed by a marble accent wall. There was a massive glass walk-in shower, and on either side of the room, double vanities stretched beneath wide, lighted mirrors. His and her walk-in closets flanked the bathroom’s entrance, each large enough to be a room of its own.

“Pictures really didn't do this justice,” Smoke muttered, clearly impressed.

“I can already see my candles lining that tub,” Annie said, spinning slowly.

Smoke grinned. “And me knockin’ on the door askin’ if ya drowned yet.”

They laughed and she pushed at his chest playfully, the warmth between them growing deeper as they left the master suite and headed down to the basement.

Downstairs, the basement was fully finished—complete with a home theater setup, game room space, gym, bathroom, and the remainder of the seven bedrooms. A bar stood in the corner, its stonework matching the fireplace upstairs, and a wine fridge was tucked beneath the counter.

Annie leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she looked around. “It really has everything.”

Smoke stood beside her, hands in his pockets. “And then some.”

Annie turned to him with a sigh, her heart felt full. “I love it. Nothing’s come close to this.”

He smiled, deep and slow. “Me too. What do you say you take another look around and then meet me in the backyard? That’s really gonna seal the deal.”

Annie nodded, still swept up in it all. “Alright,” she said, watching him head toward the rear of the house while she wandered back through the first floor.

Somehow, they’d missed the laundry room earlier—tucked just past the kitchen and across from a small powder room. It was spacious and bright, with a window that let in natural light. Clean white cabinets lined the walls, paired with soft grey quartz countertops. A double washer and dryer sat side-by-side beneath the counter, and a deep utility sink rested near the corner. There was more than enough storage for every cleaning supply she could think of, and even space for a built-in folding station. Annie grinned. It felt like the kind of room you didn’t mind spending time in.

Satisfied, she moved back through the house, soaking in every last detail before stepping through the sliding glass doors that opened from the living room onto the covered back patio. The space felt like a private retreat perfect for events and entertaining.

A paneled dark wood ceiling stretched above her with recessed lighting and a sleek ceiling fan spinning lazily. To her left, an outdoor kitchen complete with a built-in grill, stainless steel appliances, and whitewashed brick gave the space a luxe yet cozy vibe. A long wooden dining table with cushioned bench seating stood ready for family meals or casual hangouts. To the right, a plush outdoor sofa and chairs with cream cushions and blue patterned throw pillows invited her to sink in and relax. The view overlooked a lush backyard framed by mature trees, and Annie could just picture warm nights out here with Smoke, wrapped in each other.

Her heels carefully tapped down the stairs to the tiled stone path, the soft clack of each step nearly lost in the hush of evening. The sun was setting, casting a sultry, golden glow across the backyard, painting everything in warm light and long shadows. “Smoke?” she called out, looking toward the matching three-car garage as she began walking in search of him.

“Over here, baby doll,” his voice called, low and steady, from behind her.

She turned, expecting to see him casually leaning against something, maybe smirking in that way he always did—but what she saw instead stole the breath from her lungs. An audible gasp left her lips. Her hands flew to her face, and before she could even think, tears were slipping down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “C’mere.”

She sniffled, trying to steady herself, her soft sobs catching in her throat. Her legs felt like lead, trembling with every slow step she took toward him.

Behind him stood a breathtaking heart formed entirely from white roses. In its center, a glowing white neon sign spelled out “It was always you” in elegant cursive, glowing softly against the light bricks of the patio. A lush aisle of dense white rose petals led to him, flanked on both sides by tall glass candles flickering gently in the breeze. And right in the middle of it all, Smoke knelt on one knee, a calm smile on his handsome face, a little black velvet box open in his left hand—holding everything she never knew she’d dreamed of.

Smoke looked like he stepped out of a fairytale, or maybe straight off the pages of a GQ cover—clean, confident, and completely hers.

His short-sleeved, cream knit button-up hugged the solid build of his chest and arms. The open collar giving a peek at the subtle glint of a simple gold chai. His navy blue slacks were perfectly tailored, hugging his frame without clinging, and falling effortlessly over polished black dress shoes. His chunky gold watch glinted on his wrist, catching the flicker of candlelight as he waited with quiet patience.

As soon as Annie reached him, he took her left hand in his, placing a kiss to it. Tears clouded her vision as she looked down at him, trying to hold it together, her breath catching in her throat.

He blew out a breath, trying to ease his nerves. "I've been holdin' onto this for months," he said, glancing at the box and giving it a small jiggle in his hand. "Thinkin' 'bout how I'd do this, but nothin' felt good enough... Then I came across this house and felt like it was the missing puzzle piece."

He sighed, his throat tight with emotion. His jaw clenched as he tried to hold back his own tears, the weight of the moment resting heavy in his chest.

Annie’s thumb gently stroked the back of his fingers, her touch grounding him.

Smoke cleared his throat and looked up at her. His voice cracked just slightly, raw and real. "If someone would've told me a year ago that I'd be here in this moment... I wouldn'tve believed 'em. Back in Clarksdale, word got around that you were up here, and I just hoped that maybe the opening of the lounge would lore you to me. But... clearly someone or somethin' had better plans..."

He let out a breathy chuckle, and Annie joined him, sniffing and smiling through her tears.

"And to be honest, I don't know what I did to deserve it."

"Elijah—"

He shook his head gently, cutting her off with quiet conviction. "Nah, baby. It's true. My biggest regret is leavin’ you. You deserved better than that... our baby deserved better than that." His voice faltered, thick with remorse. "I saw the world, did what they say men supposed to do, but it’s you that makes me better every damn day."

He looked up at her, his eyes shining. "There was this ache in me when you were gone. Like I was walkin’ around half-alive, tryna fill the space where you used to be. But now..." he paused again, getting choked up, his throat tightening as he pushed through the emotion, "Now I feel whole. So full I don’t even know what to do with myself some days. I’m grateful, Annie. Grateful I get to wake up everyday and love you. And bein’ loved by you? That’s just the cherry on top."

A soft smile played at her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. He matched it with one of his own.

"We’ve been through hell and back," he continued. "And I can’t promise we won’t go through more. But what I can promise is that I’ll never leave your side again. I’ll protect you, support you, and love you in every way I know how. So..."

Smoke opened the small black velvet box, revealing a breathtaking oval-cut diamond ring. The center stone was massive, catching the last golden rays of the sun and scattering them in a dazzling array of light. It was set in a delicate platinum band made of tiny diamonds, each one sparkling like stardust. The ring was bold yet elegant, timeless yet modern and undeniably stunning—matching how he viewed her.

Annie gasped, her hand flying to her chest as her eyes welled up all over again.

"Annie Lisette Batiste, love of my life... will you marry me?"

Her smile stretched wide through her tears. She bit her bottom lip and nodded, laughter bubbling in her throat through her emotion.

Smoke chuckled, eyes never leaving hers. "That a yes?"

"Yes, baby," she breathed, her voice full of warmth and wonder.

He slipped the ring onto her finger, where it fit like it had been waiting its whole life for her. Rising to his feet, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her with everything he had. The world around them disappeared—nothing else existed but that moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Smoke rested his forehead against hers and murmured against her lips, "I hope that’s a yes to the house too... 'cause," he smirked, eyes gleaming, "I may have already put in the winning offer a few days ago to set all this up. Why you think Amber said "the Moore's"?"

Annie sucked her teeth and playfully rolled her eyes with a smile. "You somethin’ else, Elijah Moore."

His low laugh rumbled from his chest. "Aw, c’mon, woman. I saw it in your eyes the second we pulled up. You love this place."

She giggled, shaking her head as she wrapped her arms around him again. "Okay... yes. You lucky I love it almost as much as I love you."

They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each other beneath the fading light—safe, sound, and whole. Annie offered a silent thanks for every root, every whispered prayer that had kept them, and led them right back to this moment. Everything was finally falling into place—big... and small.

Back at Smoke’s apartment, Annie couldn’t stop admiring her ring—not through their shower together, not while applying her skincare, and definitely not while whipping up a quick meal of spaghetti to calm her nerves and feed their hunger. The massive oval diamond on her finger caught every glint of light, sparkling with every move she made. She kept catching herself turning her hand in different angles, just to watch it shimmer.

“Mmm, that smells good,” Smoke murmured as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His bare chest pressed against her back, and his chin rested comfortably on her shoulder. He looked down at the bubbling pot of savory sauce, then stole a glance at the soft curve of her cleavage peeking through the tie of her fluffy robe.

“Can I have a taste?” he asked in a low, teasing tone, giving her a playful pinch on the butt.

Annie squealed and picked up the small kitchen knife she’d just used to dice bell peppers, bringing it gently under his chin—not threatening, but just enough to warn him. “Boy, if you don’t find some patience and set the table…” she said with a mock scowl.

Smoke laughed, hands raised in surrender. “Put the knife up, woman. I’m goin’, I’m goin’.”

She snickered and turned her attention back to the noodles, giving them a final stir before turning off the stove. The soft clinking of plates and silverware echoed as Smoke set the table at the island. He slid two plates beside her, then reached into the wine cooler and pulled out a fresh bottle of Dom Pérignon, his grin wide.

“Now seems like as good a time as any to pop this,” he said, holding the bottle up like a trophy.

Annie’s eyes widened slightly when she saw the label, but she quickly masked it, responding with a light, “Mhm.”

Smoke tilted his head. “You okay? I thought you liked this one,” he said, already grabbing two flute glasses.

“I—I do, babe. You’re right. No need to save it, there’s a lot to celebrate, but…” she paused, then added softly, “can you hold off ‘til after dinner?”

His brows pulled together, clearly curious, but he didn’t press. “Uh… sure,” he said slowly, placing the bottle and glasses aside. Instead, he poured iced tea for them both—extra lemon wedges in hers, just how she liked it.

They sat and enjoyed the meal. Smoke’s satisfied moans had Annie giggling behind her fork.

“I can’t help it,” he said, already going for another bite. “You make the simplest things taste like a five-star meal.”

They talked between bites, going back and forth about who to break the engagement news to first—of course, Stack won that. They bounced around ideas for the house, what to keep, what to toss, and how they’d tackle packing. Once they were done, Smoke grabbed their empty plates and scraped the leftovers into containers. After loading the dishwasher, he stretched with a content sigh.

“That hit the spot, baby. Thank you,” he said, rubbing his stomach like a kid after Thanksgiving.

“You’re welcome, love,” Annie replied warmly.

“Champagne time!” he declared, reaching for the corkscrew again.

Annie’s stomach flipped. She shot up from her seat. “Hold that thought,” she muttered and quickly padded into his closet. Digging into her luggage tucked neatly in the corner, she retrieved a black gift box tied with a gold satin ribbon. She stared at it for a breath, heart pounding, before returning to the kitchen.

She set it down gently on the counter. “You’re not the only one full of surprises today.”

Smoke’s brows lifted. A grin stretched across his face. “Aren’t you cute? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I couldn’t pass this up. Here, sit," she replied softly, patting the stool beside her.

He settled onto the cushioned stool, eyes twinkling with curiosity as he tugged the ribbon free. The box gave a soft creak as he lifted the lid, rustling through the tissue paper.

Then he froze.

His breath hitched as he slowly lifted a tiny white newborn onesie with the words “I Love My Daddy” in soft gray script and a heart beneath it. His hands trembled slightly as he picked up the two white sticks tucked beneath—both Clear Blue tests, both clearly reading: Pregnant.

His head dropped, shoulders shaking as he held back his sobs. Annie sniffled quietly beside him, unable to hold back her tears.

Smoke gathered himself enough to reach in and lift the last item: a small wooden picture frame. Inside, an ultrasound photo. A little black and white blob the shape of a peanut—tiny, but unmistakably a life.

“We’re havin’ a baby?” he asked, voice cracking, tearful eyes locking onto hers.

She nodded, tears spilling freely now. “Yeah,” she whispered.

He stood up without a word and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close and kissing the side of her head. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back as she cried into his shoulder.

“Are you happy?” she asked, voice slightly muffled.

“Of course I’m happy,” he said, pulling back to wipe her tears gently with his thumbs. “I couldn’t ask for a better gift.”

“How far along?” he asked softly.

She sniffled and smiled. “About two months.”

He looked upward in thought, eyebrows raised, then smirked. “I knew I put it on you for Valentine’s Day.”

Annie burst into laughter, remembering the way he had definitely put it on her during their weekend getaway. Smoke chuckled too, then leaned in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“I love you, Mrs. Batiste-Moore,” he murmured against her lips.

She beamed. “I love you too, Mr. Moore.”

“And…” he said with a grin, crouching down to gently part her robe. He pressed a tender kiss to her belly. “Papa loves you too, lil’ one. No champagne for Mommy anytime soon,” he teased, looking up at her with a wink.

Her heart melted at his affection. All her nerves were put to rest.

“When’s the next doctor’s appointment?” Smoke asked, pulling Annie gently between his legs as he settled back on the stool. His hands rested on her hips, thumbs brushing slow circles over her robe.

“Middle of next month,” she replied, running her fingers over his head and lightly rubbing his ears. “Once I’m done with the first trimester.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m not missin’ a single one.” He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her open palm, holding it there for a beat like it anchored him. “I don’t know how I didn’t catch on. It was easier to tell before.”

She let out a soft laugh, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I don’t have mornin' sickness this time, knock on wood.” She leaned down and tapped her knuckles against the wooden cabinet below the island. “Plus, I'm only showin' a lil' bit. I only got suspicious 'cause my cycle didn’t come, and then… I had a dream about fish.”

Smoke’s brow arched. “A dream? About fish?”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah. They can be a spiritual sign—pregnancy, abundance, new beginnings…” Her gaze drifted to the side as she remembered. “I was deep in the ocean. Water so clear and blue it didn’t even look real—it was beautiful. Peaceful. Then out of nowhere, this school of fish swam up all around me. Bright colors, all different shapes and sizes. They weren’t scared, and neither was I. I felt... calm. Like they were protecting me.”

Smoke watched her, totally entranced.

“They swam with me no matter where I went,” she continued softly. “Even when I made it to shallow water near the shore, they stayed. Just hovered like they were waiting. Then I came out of the water and… Mama was there. On the shore.”

He blinked, eyes locked onto hers. “Like you told me before. With Zariah?”

Annie nodded slowly. “Exactly. Mama was holding her. Zariah was cooing, laughin'… she always looks so happy. We didn’t say a word. Just stood there, smiling at each other. I could hear the waves behind me, soft and steady. It was… peaceful. That kind of peace you feel deep in your soul.” Her voice grew quiet. “They’ve come to me like that before, Mama and Zariah. But the fish… that was new. That was her way of confirming what I already knew.”

Smoke exhaled through his nose, lips curled in a small, wistful smile. “I wish I could see her,” he said quietly, his hands still resting on her hips.

Annie leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment. “One day you will,” she whispered. “A long, long, long ass time from now. We’ve got things to do down here.”

He chuckled, and so did she.

“Speakin’ of things to do…” he murmured with a teasing glint in his eyes. His hands slid slowly up her sides, then dipped to her waist, pulling her just a little closer. He leaned forward, pressing warm kisses along her exposed cleavage.

Annie hummed, her fingers caressing the back of his head.

“How about we work off dinner?” he offered, voice thick with suggestion and affection.

Her only response was a mischievous smile and the way she leaned down to kiss him—slow, deep, and full of promise—told him everything he needed to know.

She moaned softly as their tongues danced, gliding in a slow, teasing rhythm. Smoke’s hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. Her fingers brushed along his jaw before she leaned in and lightly traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, then pulled back with a playful smirk.

“Leave it to you to turn a wholesome moment into somethin’ freaky,” she whispered against his mouth, her breath warm, her eyes shining.

His deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Somethin’ ’bout bein’ engaged and knowin’ we made a mini us got me feelin’ extra… primal. Sue me.”

Annie laughed, soft and sweet, and laced her fingers with his. “C'mon,” she said, tugging him gently toward the bedroom. He followed without hesitation, flicking off the kitchen lights as they passed.

“I don’t know if I can keep callin’ you daddy once the baby’s here,” she teased as they reached the foot of the bed, turning to face him with an arched brow.

He sucked his teeth and yanked her flush against him, hands gripping her waist like he was claiming her all over again. “Oh, you will, but with a little more respect in your tone,” he smirked, leaning in to nip at her bottom lip. “Matter fact, after what I’m 'bout to do to you, you might start sayin it in capital letters everywhere we go.”

Her core clenched at the authority in his voice, heat blooming low in her belly. Her eyes flicked from his full lips to those pretty brown eyes—darkening now, like storm clouds rolling in just before the downpour.

"I’d love to see you try," she murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice.

She could’ve sworn she heard a low rumble rise from his chest, more growl than laugh. It vibrated through the short space between them, curling around her spine and making her breath hitch. The air between them thickened with want, and his gaze dropped to her mouth like he was already imagining it moaning his name.

“’Cause you know I always deliver,” he murmured before pulling her back into another heated kiss, deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. His lips were firm, hungry, and she melted into it with a soft moan, powder pink nails lightly scratching his scalp.

With practiced ease, he untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. Her hands were already at his waist, pushing his sweats down eagerly until his thick, hard length sprang free. He stepped out of them, not missing a beat, and immediately dipped his head to trail kisses down her neck—finding that sensitive spot just under her jaw and sucking gently. She whimpered, thighs pressing together instinctively to soothe the ache pulsing between her legs.

Then his mouth was on her right nipple, tongue swirling slowly before he sucked it deep into the warmth of his mouth. Her head dropped back with a breathless moan as he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers, teasing both peaks until they stiffened under his touch.

“Baby, please…” she purred, writhing as he switched to her other breast, mouth wet and warm.

“Please what, mamas?” he mumbled into her skin, the scruff of his beard grazing her soft flesh, sending a new wave of goosebumps across her chest.

“Please, fuck me,” she whimpered, voice desperate and thick with need.

Smoke chuckled low in his throat, his lips now pressing loving kisses along her belly. “Oh, I will... right after I eat my pussy. Now,” he added, giving her ass a firm smack, “get on all fours like I like it.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed, she positioned herself just how he wanted—arched and ready. He took a pillow from the head of the bed and slid it underneath her belly for support, mindful of her comfort now more than ever.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her soaked folds and whimpered in anticipation, her body already trembling. He knelt behind her, thick arms wrapping around her thighs from underneath to pull her closer. She swore her heart skipped as he inhaled her scent—slow, deep, possessive.

Then came the tease—his tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, kissing and licking everything but her center. She rocked her hips instinctively, craving contact, every nerve alive.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word more like a vow than a claim, and then his mouth sealed over her pussy.

Annie gasped sharply, the heat and wetness of his mouth sending her reeling. He licked her slow at first, deliberately, tongue moving like he had nowhere else to be. His tongue flicked side to side against her swollen clit before he sucked it gently, then firmly, setting her nerves on fire. Her back bowed beautifully, and he rewarded the arch with another smack to her ass, this one more playful. His strong hands palmed the weight of her cheeks, spreading her open so he could devour her better.

The sound of her moans—raw, open, unfiltered—filled the room. So did the wet, messy sounds of his mouth as he tasted her, worshipped her. His tongue slid down to her entrance and began to thrust, long and deep, mimicking what he knew she needed. She rocked back against his face in response, fucking herself on his tongue.

“Mmm. That’s it, baby. Fuck my face,” he growled between licks, voice hoarse with desire.

“Oooh, Elijah…” she purred, her body trembling as her orgasm crept up with no warning. Her walls clenched tight around his tongue and her clit throbbed against the friction of his chin. His tongue, long and thick, curled just right—rubbing and coaxing the orgasm from her body like it belonged to him.

Her thighs shook, and she cried out his name again and again as she came, surrendering fully to the pleasure. Her body pulsed around the emptiness, and he didn’t stop—he drank her in, tongue lapping every drop, the sounds of his mouth slick and unashamed in the quiet of the room.

“Mm… sweet ass pussy,” he mumbled with satisfaction, tongue still teasing her slit as her body trembled from the aftershocks.

She whimpered, her body hypersensitive, trying to crawl away from his relentless mouth.

He chuckled softly, finally giving her a moment to breathe, and kissed the backs of her thighs with a tenderness that had her heart clenching. Each kiss was like a thank you, a worship, a promise.

“You good, baby?” he asked softly, rubbing his hands down the backs of her legs, grounding her.

Annie let out a long breath and nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “So damn good.”

He hummed with a satisfied smile, rising to his knees as he pressed soft kisses up the curve of her back. She shivered beneath the affection, then slowly gathered her strength, straightening up on her legs. With a lazy, seductive grace, she reached back, her fingers curling behind his neck to pull him in for a deep, messy kiss—tongues tangling, lips slick with need. She moaned softly at the taste of herself on his tongue.

When she finally pulled away, her voice dropped into something velvety and commanding. “Lay down.”

Smoke nipped at her bottom lip in response, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am,” he rasped playfully, and settled back into the bed, reclining against the headboard with one arm tucked behind his head. He looked utterly edible—lids low, chest rising with anticipation, dick hard and glistening in the moonlight.

Annie crawled between his legs, her hips swaying as she moved with deliberate intent. Her eyes locked on his girthy, pretty, brown length. Precum shimmered at the fat tip, catching the silver glow from the window. Her mouth watered, her breath hitching.

She wrapped her hand around him, marveling again at the weight and heat of him, and began stroking him slow and tight while never breaking eye contact. His brows drew together, lips parting with a grunt as his hips subtly rocked into her grip.

She leaned in and let a string of spit drip from her tongue, watching it glisten as it slid over the swollen head. Then, without hesitation, she took him into her warm mouth, slowly sucking him inch by inch until her lips kissed his base.

“Gahdamn… mmm,” Smoke groaned, head lolling to the side as he watched her work. His expression melted into bliss and awe.

Annie moaned around him, the vibrations sending a shiver down his spine. Her hand worked in rhythm with her mouth—wrist twisting as she stroked while her lips slid up and down his shaft. She pressed her tongue along the underside, tracing the throbbing vein.

Smoke reached forward, gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail, angling her just right so he could see everything. “Fuck,” he hissed as she moaned again and popped him out of her mouth with a soft wet pop! Her tongue trailed down to his heavy balls, and she gently sucked one into her mouth, careful, slow, savoring him.

“Fuuuck, Annie…” His voice cracked, thighs tensing beneath her palms, abs tightening with every flick of her tongue. She could feel the telltale signs—his body betraying him with every twitch and quiver.

Then, just as his release hovered close, she stopped.

She released him from her mouth and hand, sitting back slightly. His thick length bobbed against his thigh, flushed and needy.

His eyes flew open in disbelief, damn near a panic. “Woman, are you crazy?!”

Annie giggled, licking her lips as she rubbed slow circles on his thighs to soothe him from the brink. Her grin was deliciously wicked. “Only for you,” she purred, loving the way his chest rose and fell, how his fists clenched at his sides like he didn’t know whether to beg or curse.

She could see it—how close he’d been. That made her feel powerful. Intimate. Like she knew every muscle, every nerve ending in his body by name.

“You’re dangerous,” Smoke growled, trying to catch his breath.

She kissed his inner thigh, then up over the ridges of his abs, along his chest, and up the column of his neck. When she reached his ear, she nibbled it gently before whispering, voice syrup-sweet and full of mischief. “Betta call on the ancestors now, ‘cause I’m not done wreckin’ you just yet.”

He looked at her like he wanted to ruin her—in the most loving, filthy, reverent way possible. And the look she gave him back? Just as hungry. Just as wild. His hands gripped her waist firmly, grounding them both in the heat of the moment as she straddled him. Her knees planted on either side of his hips, and she lifted slightly, one hand wrapping around the base of his thick shaft to guide him to her soaked entrance.

A gasp slipped from both of their lips as she slowly sank down onto him, inch by inch. Her hands braced on his shoulders, fingers digging in for leverage as her walls stretched and fluttered around his girth. The warmth of her pussy enveloped him like a velvet vice, clenching greedily as he filled her completely.

"Fuck…" Smoke growled, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he held back from thrusting up into her. He needed her to take her time—wanted to feel every second of her wrapping around him.

Annie adjusted, rolling her hips slightly before beginning to lift and drop slowly, savoring the stretch and slide of him inside her. The steady rhythm sent chills up both their spines, and Smoke let out a low grunt, his fingers digging into her waist. Her pussy gripped him so perfectly it almost hurt—in the best way. Pregnancy had made her impossibly wetter, more sensitive, and the feel of her now was nearly enough to unravel him.

Her head tilted back as her lashes fluttered closed, soft pants escaping her lips as she rode him slow and deep. That gave Smoke the perfect view—and the perfect moment. One of his hands slid up her torso, wrapping gently around her throat the way he knew she loved. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched her melt beneath his touch.

Annie moaned, grinding her hips in slow, teasing circles. “Ssoooh… you feel so good, daddy,” she hissed, her voice cracked with pleasure.

Smoke leaned forward slightly and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking slow and deep. Her entire body trembled. She bounced harder on his dick, her movements gaining speed and purpose as she plunged him deeper and deeper inside her. Her moans were soft, rhythmic, breathy, and perfect—music to his ears.

“Yesss... ride your dick, baby. Just like that,” he moaned against her chest, flicking his tongue over her other nipple, then tugging gently with his teeth. The way her body squeezed around him had him dizzy.

As many times as they’d made love, this felt brand new—like the first time all over again. Electric. Intoxicating. Their bodies spoke a language only they could understand. Every connection felt spiritual, every climax like worship.

Smoke let her ride until she was quivering again, then pulled her down by the neck and kissed her hard—hungry, open-mouthed, breath-stealing passion. She leaned into it, and that’s when he planted his feet into the mattress and started thrusting up into her—each stroke hard and deep. Her pussy creamed around him, sweet, messy, and addictive.

“Oh, fuck!” she squealed into his mouth, her hands clawing at the upholstered headboard for something to hold onto as he pounded her from beneath. Her walls clenched like a vice around him, juices trickling down to his balls.

Smoke cupped her ass with both hands, pushing her down to meet his thrusts, the pressure building fast. He could feel her right on the edge.

Then, without warning, he slowed. Just the tip, teasing, nudging her opening but never fully plunging back in. Her whine was instant.

“Daddy, please,” she breathed, trying to grind down to get more of him.

“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” he asked, voice thick with heat, eyes locked on her.

She nodded fast, eyes wide and glassy with a pout that damn near undid him. That sweet face, so ready to fall apart for him—it had him teetering right on the brink.

With a grunt, he slammed back into her, his thrusts hitting deep and just right, angled to find that sweet, sensitive spot. Over. And over. Again.

“Right there… oh my god, right there,” she chanted like a prayer, body trembling as the orgasm coiled tight and fast inside her.

He didn’t let up. His eyes stayed trained on her, like watching her unravel was his only purpose in life. “Cum on your dick, baby doll,” he groaned, his own release rushing fast behind the command.

Annie shattered with a cry, her pussy spasming violently around him, drawing every drop from him as he spilled deep inside her. They clung to each other, mouths fusing in a desperate, sloppy kiss—moans and whimpers exchanged like oxygen.

They stayed like that, trembling and tangled, riding the wave of their shared high until their breathing slowed and their pulses came back to earth.

After tender kisses, the kind that lingered like a promise, they each slipped away to relieve themselves and returned for a quick cleanup—gentle touches, quiet smiles, and sleepy laughs echoing in the low light of the bedroom. When they finally slid back beneath the covers, the night felt sacred.

Annie curled onto her side, her body still warm and humming from everything they shared. Smoke tucked himself behind her, his bare chest pressed against her back, and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist like she might slip away if he didn’t hold her close.

“Goodnight, pretty baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with tenderness as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

She smiled faintly, melting back into his embrace and soaking in the warmth of his skin against hers. “Goodnight, my love,” she murmured, her words delicate and laced with sleep as her lashes fluttered shut. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out, and in moments she slipped beneath the surface of consciousness.

She found herself standing once again in clear blue waters, waist-deep, the sunlight glimmering like diamonds on the ripples. The same familiar school of colorful fish surrounded her, their shimmering bodies dancing around her ankles, leading her forward, guiding her like gentle soldiers.

As she moved toward the shore, the ocean turning to soft, warm sand beneath her feet, she saw them—her mother, standing with Zariah nestled lovingly in her arms. They both shimmered with an ethereal glow, their auras golden and soft like morning light.

Tears welled in Annie’s eyes as she stepped closer. This time, her mother didn’t just smile—she walked toward her. When she reached Annie, she gently transferred Zariah into her arms, the baby’s coos and warmth making her breath hitch. Annie looked down at her daughter, so vibrant and real. Chubby cheeks, dimples, curious eyes, the tiniest fingers curling around her mother’s.

Tears slid down Annie’s face, mirrored by her mother’s, but there was joy there too. Love. Healing. She looked up again just in time to see her mother walking toward a forest of palm trees in the distance, a towering weeping willow standing guard at the center.

“Mama… wait!” Annie called, her voice trembling.

Before fading into the grove, her mother turned back one last time. She smiled… and winked. Annie's eyes fell back to her daughter who's eyes were still focused on her.

“Zariah…” Annie whispered aloud in her sleep, her lips parting with emotion.

Smoke’s brows pinched slightly when he heard her. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet—he’d been lying there, quietly admiring her breathing, her warmth pressed to his chest like a comfort he’d never take for granted.

He lifted himself on an elbow, eyes scanning her face. Her features were peaceful, her lips twitching into a soft, unconscious smile. Behind her closed lids, her eyes moved rapidly—clearly dreaming. But to Smoke, it felt like something more.

He pulled the covers down slowly, reverently, revealing the soft swell of her belly under the moonlight. He leaned in and placed a kiss just beneath her navel, lingering there like he was whispering a prayer.

“Is that you, princess?” he murmured, voice breaking slightly as he caressed the curve of her abdomen with his calloused, trembling hand. “Zariah... baby girl…”

Tears rimmed his eyes, threatening to fall as he pressed his forehead against her skin. He searched the space with his heart more than his eyes, like the love and memory of their daughter could somehow speak through the silence.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, placing one more tender kiss before pulling the blanket gently back over her sleeping form.

He climbed back up, resettling beside her, still blinking away tears. But Annie instinctively turned, her face nuzzling into his chest, her arm slipping around his waist. Even in slumber, she found him. She always did.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, fingers brushing through her hair as he held her close.

“I’m right here,” he whispered into the dark, unsure if he meant it for her, their daughter, or maybe both.

Then finally, as her breathing soothed him and her warmth anchored him, Smoke closed his eyes and let himself drift, heart full, soul aching—but not alone.

To be continued....

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Big Papa put a ring on it and gave her house all in the same day. Period! My babies are having a baby too! 🥹 Y'all excited? I hit you with a double whammy. lol Did you think any of this was happening in this part? Did I catch you slipping? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. xoxo

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Taglist:

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[moth2flamewriting]

The Hoodoo Apprentice

Summary: Amelia packed her things and took a train to Clarksdale Mississippi to reunite with an old friend, Annie. Annie promised she’d teach Amelia the art of Hoodoo. After a month, Smoke and Stack return with a plan to open a Juke Joint.

Warnings: SMUT

Part Four

Marylin Jenkins climbed the short, rickety steps leading into Annie’s Apothecary. The pussy willow’s were in rare form that day, leaving white pedals everywhere, some of it even leading into Annie’s shop. The wind chimes swayed creating whimsical, meditating sounds.

Marylin removed her straw hat, smoothing down her coarse hair that she wore in four plaits. Annie and Marylin used to hang around a lot before she married her husband, Deacon, at the tender age of eighteen. Five children later and one on the way, she didn’t have time to go out and enjoy herself.

Marylin’s tawny skin glistened like she’d been slathered in fish grease. Her light brown eyes fell upon a woven basket with a label attached to it that read: FREE FANS FOR THE HEAT.

She helped herself to one, waving it all over her face. It cooled her a little, but The Delta fought hard to smother you in its oppressively humid conditions. Almost suffocating you with the thick, blazing air. Marylin helped herself to looking around, wondering what she needed to buy while she was on her way back home to her children.

Bam–Bam needed his hair cut.

Sonya scuffed her knees playing in the yard the other day.

Baby Tina was almost fresh out of milk.

Beatrice and Belle had a habit of getting into things they shouldn’t.

Marylin halted her footsteps in front of a bundle of sage. As she picked up one to buy, footsteps leading out of a closet behind her caught her ear. Marylin turned to find Annie’s helper, Ameila, exiting the walk in closet, fixing a checkered half-apron around her hourglass waistline. She wore a cotton field dress in a pastel yellow color, the ruffled straps hanging from her slender shoulders.

Behind her came a man. A man identical to Annie’s husband.

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore.

Marylin’s features were pinched with resentment. She’d heard talk about the Smoke Stack Twins returning to the Delta from the Windy City, and the thought of seeing Stack again brought back suppressed memories of how she used to be his lover until he dropped her like a bad habit.

And then she ran into Deacon’s arms after he’d confessed to her drunk over corn liquor how much he had a big ol’ crush on her. A robust, man with sable skin and a kind smile. Memories of Stack having his way with her wherever and whenever he could, even with his crew hanging around, stirred something in her. Something akin to wanting that old thing back.

Ameila smoothed down her curly hair before tightening the black bow that held all that dense hair together and down her back. She flashed Marylin a kind smile, sweat sheening the junction between her throat and collar bones. Stack occupied himself with studying a conjure jar filled with whatever Annie put together. A label on it read: ESSENCE OF BEND-OVER.

Marylin could see from the corner of her eye Stack closing the fly to his pinstriped pants, adjusting his erection, tucking it in a way where it wouldn’t be noticeable. He cut his eyes at her and did a double take, recognizing her straight away. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, cursing under his breath. Marylin gave Ameila a practiced smile, but in the back of her mind, she was judging her. Judging because she knew exactly what Stack and her had been doing in that closet.

“How can I help ya’ today, Marylin?” Ameila inquired, a hospitable smile on her lips.

Lips that were snug around Stack’s log she was sure.

“I’ll take a bundle of sage. Annie got some more of that Sachet Powder I like?”

“Of course, right over here,” Ameila guided Marylin over to a section of the store where she could help herself, “Sure that’s all ya’ need?”

Stack perched himself on top of a wooden stool, rolling a cigarette. A black fedora with a red feather sat lazily on his head, tipped to the side, revealing a crisp fade. He had on a snug, white T-shirt and two–toned Oxford shoes on his feet in white and black.

Marylin gave Ameila a curt nod, “That’s all…where’s Annie anyway?”

“At the house. She’s preparing lunch. Asked me to look over the store.” Ameila revealed.

“Alright,” Marylin’s nosy eyes danced between the both of them, “I’ll take this and be on my way.”

The sound of Stack lighting a match hit Marylin’s ears. Ameila tallied the till.

“That’ll be two dollars.”

Marylin paid her money and accepted a brown paper bag with the things she needed. She tucked it beneath her arm before turning to leave.

“Marylin? How you be…”

Marylin paused on her pursuit. She gave Stack a tight smile. He flashed his characteristic smile, Mr. Dimples successfully pulling her in. But Marylin despised him.

“All’s well, Elias. You back for good?” Marylin asked with a condescending smile.

“I am. Gotta deal with the devil we know. How them kids?”

Marylin gave a faint shrug, “Being kids. Hope you stay on the straight path this time around, Elias.”

“I’ll take your advice…”

“Will you?” Marylin sassed.

Stack frowned, “Depends on what mood I’m in.”

Amelia busied herself with stocking empty jars in a cupboard for later use. She glanced between Marylin and Stack, noticing straight away that there was tension between them. She rolled her eyes with a sigh .

“Have a good rest of your day now,” Stack said as Marylin walked away. It held a mischievous edge to it.

Marylin glanced at him with uneasy eyes, “You do the same.”

“Tell Deacon I said quit hidin’. been a minute since he been ‘round.”

Marylin paused within the doorway, a look of disdain crossing her face.

“He’s busy being a father to his children and working the fields. Ain’t got time to be runnin’ around.”

Stack threw his hands up with faux surrender, a pout of his lips and an exaggerated lift of his brows.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know ‘bout that.” Stack replied.

Marylin glared at him before descending the stairs. She made her way to her car, mumbling something Stack was sure to be a string of insults.

“Bitter bitch,” Stack took a hit of his cigarette, “Ain’t my fault your man got side pussy. Maybe if ya’ shit wasn’t so lose he’d stay happy.”

“Stack!”

Ameila threw a pen at him that Stack tried to dodge but it hit him in the face. He picked it up from the floor and tossed it back, watching it bounce off of Ameila’s hip.

“That was so mean.” Ameila said.

“You think I shoulda stayed in the closet?”

“Yes,” Ameila argued, “Now she gonna run and tell her friends what a hussy I am.”

“Like you care what people think, Princess.”

Ameila smiled sheepishly.

“The sooner ya’ find out how real I keep it the better.” Stack replied with a smug smile.

Ameila put the money away and let down her hair. She fluffed it out before wrapping it around in a bun. Stack watched her with attentive eyes.

Before Marylin showed up, they were getting busy in the closet. Stack had Ameila propped up on a stack of wooden crates while his dick slow stroked her. They didn’t want to make too much noise so they could listen out for customers. Stack also wanted to hear the gushy sound her pussy makes. He wanted to savor the sensation of being enveloped in her warmth. He pulled out with a groan of frustration while Ameila left him with a cream–coated dick.

“C’mon…”

Ameila followed the suggestive tilt of Stack’s head, motioning for them to get back in the closet to finish where they left off.

“What if somebody else comes in? I have to keep an eye on things, Stack.”

“Ain’t like we wouldn’t know it, Princess.”

“Stack,” Ameila rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “What if them little girls show up?”

“You think Annie and Smoke give a fuck when they be up in here all nasty?”

Stack stood up, opened his fly, and whipped out his long dick. Ameila froze, eyes following the back and forth sway of that thick pleasure stick.

“You saying no to this? I was just starting to make it cream, baby.”

Ameila’s eyes flicked left and right.

How could she say no?

“We gotta hurry, Stack.”

Ameila ran into the closet, Stack popping her on the rump, causing her to giggle and slap his hand away. They left the closet door cracked so they could hear better.

“Back on up there…”

Stack picked Ameila up at the waist and flopped her down on the wooden crates. It was positioned in a way for her to lean back against the shelf, giving her room to bring her knees up and tilt her hips. Stack settled between her thighs, one hand keeping a leg up and the other on the base of his dick. He slapped her clit with the tip, watching the way her fat pussy lips jiggled from the impact.

Her clit seemed to grow before his eyes.

“I like you like this…I can see your pretty face and watch how I fuck you.”

Stack’s big dick slipped back into her warmth and he immediately started stroking her. One hand positioned on his lower back, Stack bent at the knee, dick curving down and down up and up.

Ameila braced herself against the shelf, tiny gasps and faint whispers of “ooo, dick so good” “got me so wet” escaping her pouty lips.

“Tryna fight the feelin’ I know ya’ ass wanted. Talkin’ ‘bout, what if them little girls show up? Like you care…”

Creek.

Stack peeked around the door, stilling his hips for a second. He thought he’d heard something. Ameila could feel Stack’s dick pulsating against her walls.

“Look who’s talking.” Amelia teased.

“Shut up and take this dick.” Stack threw back at her.

He sat deep in her to shut her up. Amelia squeezed her eyes shut and her mouth dropped open.

“Daddy…” she moaned.

“That’s right…”

Stack looked down at Ameila. He leaned forward, his full, lips that felt like a cloud pecking Ameila’s pouty lips softly. Stack started moving his hips again, the sound of the wooden crates rocking back against the shelf.

“Stack…fuck me…”

“Fuck this pussy?” Stack whispered.

“Yes…”

He hooked both arms around her legs and pumped faster. A creamy ring settled at the base of his dick each time he filled her to the brim. Ameila watched with surprise, eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears.

“Stack why you fuck me so good? You make my pussy so tingly, daddy…”

Her whiny voice and soft moans increased as Stack locked her legs in a strong hold, raising her lower half from the wooden crates. He bottomed out, bottom lip between his teeth and brows knitted together.

“Let sum other people show up, don’t give a fuck,” Stack shit–talked with a deep tremble in his voice, “I’m in my pussy, this my pussy, my shit, don’t care who comin’ in, fuck that…”

Ameila was loud and clear with her cries of pleasure. She couldn’t hold back.

“Stack, I think I’m leaking!” Ameila panicked.

Stack widened his stance. He folded Ameila, the hard wood of the crate digging into her lower back. He grabbed a hold of the shelf and fucked her hard. Like a leaky faucet, Ameila drenched Stack’s lower abs. She buried her face against his chest, squeals of pleasure muffled.

“Cum all on this big dick…all over it…” Stack ordered through clenched teeth.

They locked eyes, a frozen look of ecstasy written all over her beautiful face. Her body jerked beneath him with her release.

Stack was right behind her.

He pulled out and covered her little patch of pubic hair with cum. They fought to catch their breaths, the sweltering heat and humid wind making it hard to capture a lungful. Stack’s face dripped sweat onto Ameila’s cleavage. Moist strands of her hair lay flat against her forehead.

Ameila tapped Stack’s chest. Her thighs were burning and cramping up. Stack gently lowered her legs before taking a step back to adjust himself. His throat was bathed with sweat, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed spit. Amelia fixed her dress, taking her time getting off the wooden crates. She made her way towards the closet door, opening it fully.

“Ya’ll finish in there?”

Ameila jerked back with surprise.

Smoke was standing in the entryway of the back door to Annie’s shack. He wore a flannel buttoned shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of faded coveralls with the straps hanging loose. On his feet were work boots. Ameila caught a glimpse of his mojo bag resting between his pecs through the opening of his shirt. His arms were thick and muscled, slathered in sweat. A toasty brown.

Stack peeked his head around the door with a guilty smile.

“Annie got lunch ready. Tamales.”

Smoke lit a cigarette with practiced precision, eyes hard and unwavering on Amelia, completely ignoring his little brother.

“Make sure you ain’t leave no mess in there,” Smoke pointed his cigarette towards the scandalous closet, cigarette ash falling to the floor, “Wipe ya’ cum up and get it orderly for my woman.”

Stack appeared, hands in his pockets and a dandy gait.

“Now hold on, Smoke,” He gestured with his toothpick between his fingers, “How much mess you and Annie make in there and not clean up?”

Ameila giggled behind her hand.

“Nigga do what I said.”

Smoke caught her laughing and Ameila went silent.

“Come on down to the house and help Annie set the table. Me and Stack gon’ lock up for now.”

“Yes, Smoke.”

Ameila folded her hands behind her back and swept past Smoke in the door. He didn’t move out of the way immediately. Ameila’s eyes flicked between his and Stack’s.

Her heart raced.

Smoke finally stepped to the side.

“Go on,” he tipped his head, eyes blazing.

Ameila made her way down the steps and followed the trail to the house without a backward glance.

Smoke took a hit of his cigarette. Stack tucked his T-shirt in his pants and went to grab some cleaning supplies for the mess Ameila made. Smoke walked with heavy footsteps towards the front, grabbing a brass ring with keys hanging from it to lock up.

Stack was crouched down, scrubbing the floorboards.

Smoke watched his brother closely.

“I’m a need a favor from you, little bro’.”

Stack smirked up at Smoke.

“What I gotta do now, Serg?” Stack joked.

“Take Annie, Amelia, and myself to the train station tomorrow morning. We going to Mound Bayou for a day to do some shopping for the Juke opening.”

“And you need me to stay behind to check on things?”

“That’s right. Think you can handle that while I’m gone?”

“I got it, Smoke. Just make sure you look after Princess.”

Smoke tilted his head.

“You givin’ her pet names now?”

“When she giving me good pussy I sure am.”

Smoke curled his top lip faintly before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah, well, Annie want her to come.”

“Why? So she can stick her tongue in her cooze?”

Stack cracked up at his own joke. He stood, dusting his hands off. Smoke’s silence at Stack’s disrespectful remark made him pause.

“Hold on…why you ain’t jack me up?”

Smoke simply stared at Stack.

That’s when it dawned on him.

“She did?” Stack questioned with astonishment, “Well I’ll be! That girl got sugar walls! Annie really got a taste of that?”

“Caught ‘em on the back porch that night. Annie was on her hands and knees, moving her head in it.”

“Gahleee…”

Stack chuckled. He blew air out his mouth, eyes crinkled with astonishment. He looked at Smoke with a deep smile.

“You okay wit’ your wife doin’ that?”

“As long as she happy.”

“That ain’t answer my question…”

Stack left the closet. He tapped Smoke on the chest before leaving the shack.

“I’d do anything for Annie.” Smoke finally spoke as they approached the house.

Stack turned to face him, he tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes to shield himself from the sun. Smoke squinted at him from where he stood, unable to hide away from the suns rays.

“Anything? That comes with an open mind…so you okay with her seeing other people? That don’t make you angry? As possessive as you are over that woman. Hell, you was ready to kill me for fessing up ‘bout the crush I had on her.”

“I ain’t angry, fool. You see how happy she is? I’m happy she get to smile. I left her for seven years, Stack. If that gal can keep my woman happy while I’m gone handlin’ business wit’ yo ass what I look like taking that away from her?”

Stack folded his arms, nodding his head at his brother’s response.

“I get ya’ Smoke. Annie a good woman. Ameila a good woman too.” Stack said.

“She seem good,” Smoke replied, placing a fresh cigarette behind his ear.

Stack rocked back and forth on his feet, oxfords tapping along the dirt. A slow, mischievous smile crept through his lips.

“If it was me, I’d fuck ‘em both. Get a taste of that happiness. You need it grump.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed at Stack.

“She good…”

Stack drew closer to whisper.

“Nice and tight…a squirter…”

Smoke walked around Stack with a faint grin. Something unheard of with him. Stack was one of the few to pull it out of him.

“Let’s go get these tamales while they hot.” Smoke said.

“Don’t change the subject, Smoke!” Stack shouted after his brother.

“Then I got this one right here…”

Stack pointed to a tattoo of his military numbers on his left shoulder blade. His second tattoo was his social security number on his ankle. He lifted his foot up on the dining table, pulled his sock down, and revealed it.

Ameila stroked the tattoo on his back. Annie entered from the back door, wiping her hands on a towel hanging from her shoulder. She spotted Stack with his foot on the table and before she could rip him a new one, Smoke knocked his foot off with a hard hand.

Ameila allowed her gaze to drift over Annie.

It’s been more than three days since they’d had a taste of each other. Annie seemed to be thinking the same, because when her eyes locked with Amelia’s a look of absolute lust crossed her features.

Annie was glowing.

She wore her favorite color; green. A green maxi skirt with a matching top that hung from her shoulders. She wore a kinky fro with the tips swirled into tiny bantus. Her favorite chandelier earrings with tiny emeralds in her ears. Annie mentioned how Smoke bought her those when he got his first taste of real money.

Earlier in the shack, against Annie’s alter, their bodies pressed together heatedly, smoke from her incense billowing around them. They breathed heavily as their lips pressed together hungrily. Amelia could taste their shared breath, feel the thud of their combined heartbeat as they fumbled to take off one another’s clothes. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps approaching broke them apart.

“…Smoke got the same tattoos,” Stack continued.

Amelia broke Annie’s gaze with reluctance. Stack’s foot beneath the table stroked her ankle. Ameila hid her face, smiling.

“Smoke, can you pick up my golds from that jeweler? I went down about a week ago and they should be ready by now.”

Smoke took a seat at the table.

“More golds? Nigga, you don’t have enough?”

“Never can have enough, Smoke. Ask Jack Johnson. That nigga got a mouthful and they permanent.”

Annie positioned herself behind Smoke. She massaged his shoulders, then she leaned forward to plant a kiss to his forehead. Stack cut his eyes away when they started tongue kissing. Smoke almost dropped his cigarette. Stack caught it, taking a hit. Ameila watched them, thighs tightly clenched in her seat.

Annie broke the kiss first before dragging her fingers over Smoke’s hair.

“I like you like this, all scruffy,” Annie whispered seductively.

“He need that shit done,” Stack said, “let me hook you up before you leave tomorrow.”

Smoke kissed his teeth, “Aight…let me up, baby…”

Annie stepped to the side with both of her hands on her hips. Stack waved for Smoke to follow him out the house.

“We be back. About a hour.” Smoke said.

“I’ll finish packing up. You got more packing to do, Ameila?” Annie asked.

Amelia stood, “I’ll double check.”

Stack and Amelia locked eyes.

“…why don’t both of ya’ll tag along? I can show you how the place lookin’ Annie. I’m closer to the train station on my end anyway. Ya’ll can sleep in Smoke room.”

Stack wrapped a hand around Amelia’s waist, leading her to her room.

“Stack!—”

“It do make sense, baby.” Smoke interrupted, “Plus…we ain’t been in my other room since I got you pregnant…remember?”

Annie melted into Smoke’s arms.

How could she forget.

Smoke delivered soft kisses to Annie’s lips, “C’mon, Annie…I need you all over that room. Break that bed in again…”

Annie inhaled deeply, eyelids shuttering.

“Aight, Smoke. We gotta make sure everything is packed up.” Annie said.

“It will be. Got us a nice room in Mound Bayou too. Double beds…”

Ameila.

“Kay…”

Smoke pecked her forehead. He let Annie go and watched her walk away towards the room before he joined her. Meanwhile, Stack sat at Amelia’s vanity while she took care of last minute tasks.

“Books…I need my blush—can’t forget my hair supplies—”

“Ya’ only staying one damn night, Ameila.” Stack fussed.

“As a woman, we gotta make sure we don’t forget anything! One pair of draws ain’t enough, Stack!”

Stack flashed Amelia a defensive look, “Who said I pack one pair of draws?”

“I’m just saying. It could be two hours, I gotta be prepared.”

Stack played around with his lighter, watching the embers grow the more he flicked his thumb against the roller. Amelia secured her luggage, snapping the leather straps in place. She slipped on her ballerina slippers in a satin beige color with a tiny bow at the top.

Stack dragged his eyes over Ameila as she walked up to him, standing between his legs and stroking his cheeks. Stack dragged his hands up and down Amelia’s ass over her dress.

“You know what I was thinking?” Stack whispered.

Ameila removed his hat, placing it on her vanity. She stroked her hands down his slicked hair.

“What’s that?” Amelia replied with a hushed tone.

“Who you feel like…outta me and Annie…eat ya’ pussy better?”

Amelia leaned back to stare at Stack with a bewildered look. He continued to stroke her backside, thick fingers kneading her cheeks like dough. Amelia was stuck.

“Why you ain’t tell me about Annie…”

Ameila stilled her hands. She locked eyes with Stack, caught off guard by those unexpected words.

“Smoke told you?” Amelia finally spoke.

“He ain’t have to. I figured it out.” Stack replied with a cunning smile littered with gold.

Amelia backed away. Stack rose from her vanity. She tried to occupy herself with making her bed, but Stack was pressed up on her nice and firm. Hot all over, Amelia’s breath hitched when Stack reached around to cup her sex. He made crude gestures with his tongue against her ear, Amelia wiggling as best as she could but she was trapped between the bed and a big dick tomcat.

“She eat it better than me?” Stack spoke with a hushed tone, full lips tickling her earlobe, “Huh?”

“You so disrespectful, Elias,” Amelia nudged him back with her elbow, “That’s Smoke’s wife! Your Sister–in–Law!”

Stack caught her arm, pinning it behind her back. Amelia winced.

“Ya’ wasn’t worried ‘bout that throwing your cat in her mouth.”

“Fuck. You.” Amelia hissed.

“We did that earlier, remember? Now, answer my question, Princess…”

“Mm–mm…”

Stack hiked her dress up from behind.

“Don’t tell me no mm–mm…”

Ameila didn’t have time to prepare for Stack shoving her forward and positioning her on all fours. He disappeared behind and wiggled his tongue all in her pussy cat with gusto. Amelia arched her back, throwing her sugar walls back on Stack’s eager tongue.

Ameila gathered the bottom of her dress in a shaky fist, giving Stack a better advantage. He slurped from her ever flowing twat with those thick fingers pinching her plump cheeks, reminding him of a glazed donut from a mixture of sweat and her sticky arousal. It was between her thighs too.

“Stack, ooo, fuck…ahhhh…”

Stack pulled his tongue from between her coochie and licked his lips.

“Who eat it better?”

“Both of ya’ll…” Ameila replied weakly.

“I eat ya’ like an ice cream cone and don’t ever get tired. Annie ain’t got shit on me…”

Stack put his whole face in it and moved his mouth in a way that had Ameila seeing stars beyond the deep, southern sky. She felt her body seize up, unable to move as her orgasm reached its plateau.

Amelia squealed, throat raw as she buried her face in the sheets. Stack reappeared, fixing her dress and chuckling when Amelia fell flat against the bed. Stack licked his lips and wiped his chin as best as he could, but it was obvious what he’d just got finished doing.

Amelia peered up at him with a death gaze. Stack blew her a kiss.

“Still think it’s both?”

Ameila sat up on her knees, pussy dripping, “Yes I do. Both of ya’ll are eaters.”

Stack smirked at her with his deep dimples.

“What?” Ameila asked.

“You an undercover freak, princess. All that doe–eyed, cute shit a cover up. Let me find out ya’ been getting down in the Big Easy.”

“Believe it or not, no.”

She flashed him a coquette smile.

“Liar.”

“I ain’t lying!”

Ameila tossed a pillow at Stack.

“No sex tonight. You wore me out,” Amelia climbed off of her bed.

Stack twisted his lips in disbelief. He grabbed Amelia’s luggage for her. She fixed herself in her mirror, turning to give Stack a quick kiss before he left the room.

Outside, Smoke and Annie were loading up Stack’s car.

“When you getting your own automobile?” Stack asked his twin.

“Gimme two weeks. This juke joint shit taking my money.” Smoke replied.

Amelia descended the stairs, inner thighs rubbing together from her cum. Annie caught up with her linking her arm with hers.

“Smoke got us a room together,” Annie whispered, “Remember that lingerie shop I told ya’ about? My friend, Frankie, owns it. She also got some other things there I plan to take a look at…”

Amelia caught Annie’s eye, a suggestive wink and a sly smirk on her face.

“What things?” Ameila asked with a soft spoken voice.

“You’ll see.”

Annie released Amelia to join Smoke in the passenger seat. Stack helped Ameila inside with a hand in his. He jogged around and hopped in. Stack pulled Amelia into him and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He sat his fedora on his head, tipping it down a little. Amelia put on a pair of sunglasses.

Smoke took off, the rumble of the car growing fainter as they disappeared down the road.

They missed the crows call. It was the day they were set to depart Clarksdale and head to Mound Bayou by train. Smoke sat up in bed, extending a hand to snatch his gold pocket patch from a side table in his old room. He read the time, cognac eyes wide with realization.

They only had an hour to spare.

Smoke kicked the sheets off and almost tripped when his ankle got tangled. He cursed something menacing, searching for his pants, tank top, and pastel blue button down shirt. Annie awoke from the commotion, watching her husband trek back and forth with a deep scowl.

“We overslept?!”

Annie quickly got out of bed, naked, voluptuous body on display. Titties swaying, belly jiggling, and ass shaking as she quickly got dressed herself. She already had an outfit laid out to wear, a coral pink lapel dress with a deep, plunging cross over neckline. It gathers under her bust to create a flattering line into a slimming fit around her waist through the fitted waistband. She paired it with stockings and T–straps with leather soles and a well-balanced, not-too-high heel. She worked to smooth down her frizzy hair that she’d styled in a side–swept bun last night but Smoke fucked her out of her scarf.

Smoke shot his wife a look, “Throw a hat on and let’s get to gettin’, Annie!”

“I still gotta brush my teeth! Got morning breath and your dick been in my mouth all night! No wonder we overslept!” Annie argued.

“Shit,” Smoke grumbled, “Let me go wake ‘em up. Bags in the car?”

“Yes, Elijah.”

Smoke left Annie to finish up. He buttoned his cufflinks, walking with long strides towards where Stack slept. He gripped the doorknob firm, twisting it to test if it were unlocked.

“Wake ya’ll asses up we finna be late!—”

Smoke halted, heels rocking backwards.

Stack popped up out of bed, soft dick swaying as he frantically got dressed. Amelia stretched her limbs like a feline before sitting up gracefully. His eyes studied her body like he was disassembling his Glock. Unwavering and deeply focused. He’d seen her body in the evening glow, but she was presented before him so beautifully and vibrant.

Smoke had to quickly pick his lip up and remember where he was and what they should be doing.

But that body…

No wonder Stack can’t keep his dick to himself. No wonder Annie got acquainted with every inch of her. After taking his press cap off, Stack stood before his mirror, doing a quick job at buttoning his shirt. Amelia slipped out of bed, quickly shielding her nudity as she rushed to grab her outfit she’d had prepared.

Smoke cleared his throat, “Shoulda asked ya’ll to get decent,” He checked his pocket watch again, “We got forty five minutes before that train leave.”

Amelia and Smoke locked eyes. She had a sleepy look in her gaze, that wild hair all over her head. She dropped the sheet from around her body, looking away, unable to hold his intimidating gaze. Smoke dragged his eyes down her body, stopping at the junction between her thighs.

He’d never seen a groom job like that on a beaver, but it was interesting. Pussy lips clean shaved but the top was covered with hair. Neatly trimmed. Stack slipped past Amelia, giving her a quick kiss to the neck. He entered his closet to grab a hat. Amelia put on a pair of bloomers and a bra before slipping on a plum–colored tea dress with a flattering cut. Cute cap sleeves hugged her shoulders and created an elegant silhouette. Her rump swayed mouthwateringly beneath her dress, the fabric brushing over every curve.

She focused on brushing her hair and then she pulled it into an elegant French roll, opening a little hand bag to grab some hair pins.

Smoke pulled himself away as Stack walked towards the door. Annie was situated at the front, ready to go. They went to brush their teeth, and Amelia did the same. They had only thirty minutes left. Outside, they each got into the car, not a word spoken between them. Stack took off with Smoke in the passenger seat and Annie and Amelia in the back.

The train station was a bustling hub of activity, playing a vital role in transportation and community life. Locomotives whistled, people scurried with bags in hand, musicians played tunes for money, tin cans and guitar cases open for you to toss coins and bills in. Train conductors shouted for people to board, booming voices breaking through the other passengers and their conversations.

Smoke had Annie by the hand, and Stack had Amelia. Stack was ready to knock a nigga unconscious for stepping on his good shoes. They stopped the trolly with their luggage before a ‘Colored’s Only’ ticket window. Smoke presented the tickets and what the young man standing before him revealed created a wave of relief.

“Train is ten minutes late.”

Stack clapped his palms together loudly, “Well alright! See?”

Annie squeezed Smoke’s bicep to ease him. Amelia beamed. They made their way over to the ‘Negros Only’ waiting area. Amelia’s eyes drifted left and right, as if she were on edge. Annie touched her forearm gently, bringing Amelia’s attention to her.

“You okay, Lia?”

Smoke and Stack focused on her as well.

“I’m fine,” Ameila half shrugged with a soft grin, “Just not too fond of train stations. Too busy.”

Smoke pulled his eyes away to look at the trains. Stack tapped him on the chest before handing him a metal cigarette box filled with pre–rolls. Smoke accepted it, placing it within the inside pocket of his tweed suit jacket.

“Make sure the house straight. If any nigga go sniffing ‘round the truck…bump ‘em off.” Smoke spoke closely to Stack, “Make sure Sammie helping out too.”

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout nothin’ ! Relax, Smoke. Annie, make sure he kick his feet up for a day. Nigga don’t know how to relax.”

Smoke pointed a finger at Stack, “And you play too gahdamn much. Errythang a hoot wit’ ya’ fool ass.”

Annie and Amelia laughed at the banter between the twins.

“AAAAAALLLLLL AAAABOARRRRRDDDDDD!”

Smoke fixed his eyes on a train approaching. It was their ride to Mound Bayou. The terminal started to feel claustrophobic when everyone drew closer to board. Stack helped push the trolly, weaving through the people with skill. Annie and Amelia were hand–in–hand, dashing to the door.

Smoke and Stack gave their tickets to the train conductor and their luggage was loaded. They had to wait for the white folk to board first. As soon as the coast was clear, they got in line.

Stack grabbed a hold of Amelia’s hand. He practically swallowed her mouth with his much fuller lips. He squeezed on her ass, lifting her from the ground. Ameila swatted his arm with her hand bag a little too aggressively. Stack let her down, rubbing the spot where she struck. He shook his head at her before reaching into his pocket, coming up with some cash neatly folded and held together by a clip. He counted out some money and slipped it into her bra.

“For you to get sum’ real nice. Treat yourself, Princess.”

“Stack, I can’t take this—”

“You can and you will,” Stack glanced over her shoulder to make sure they still had some time. He got closer, speaking to her with a hushed tone, “When was the last time you been spoiled, huh? Now, go and buy a sexy little number for me to see ya’ in at the Juke. Make these hating ass birds talk.”

Ameila beamed. She pulled Stack into a tight hug with her arms over his shoulders. She kissed his cheeks before Smoke pulled her off with his arm circling her waist. Stack tipped his hat at her before watching all three of them board the train. Amelia sprinted to a window to wave goodbye with her gloved hand to Stack, blowing him a kiss.

“Show me a lil’ sum’ !” Stack mouthed.

Amelia looked both ways before hiking her dress up, revealing a garter. A pretty lace one.

“OWWWW!” Stack shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Smoke gave his little brother a salute before they all made their way towards an empty compartment. Smoke led the way, scoping out the train closely and with skepticism. Always on high alert.

“Here,” He shoved open a door to a privacy compartment, “Let’s go.”

Annie and Amelia made their way inside.

Smoke pulled the shades and loaded their luggage on the racks above the seats. Annie took a seat across from Amelia, cooling herself off with one of her fans. Amelia cracked a window to get some fresh air in. Smoke removed his suit jacket and sat it next to Amelia before settling beside his wife. He sat with his legs spread and an arm draped behind Annie.

“Not a long ride, ‘bout thirty minutes with one stop.” Smoke said.

Amelia popped open a book. A fairytale about a Prince Charming finding his wife. She smirked as her eyes scanned the pages, feeling herself consumed by the imaginary kingdom before her.

Smoke snuck a flask from his breast pocket. He unscrewed the cap, taking a swig. He flexed his jaw and grit his teeth from the strong hooch. Annie motioned for it, wanting to try some.

“Slow down now,” Smoke reached for the flask, “careful wit’ that there…”

“I got it, Daddy.”

Amelia peeked up at Annie through her lashes with a smile.

“Don’t go saying that we in public.” Smoke warned.

“Like we ain’t never get busy on a train before.”

Amelia’s interest was peeked. She eyed both of them, her book not so fascinating anymore.

“Annie,” Smoke looked over at Amelia, “We got company.”

“Don’t we always?” Annie cooed, “ou konnen ou renmen li, wi?”

Ameila and Annie giggled.

“Whatchu saying, woman?” Smoke squinted between the both of them.

“I’ll be back, I need to use the restroom,” Amelia placed her book down and exited the compartment, sliding the door shut slowly with a sly grin.

“You should’ve gotten a single bed instead, Elijah.”

Smoke cut his eyes at Annie before taking another swig of his liquor. Annie played with his ear, knowing damn well that’s Smoke’s spot.

“Whatever games you planning…”

Smoke was cut short when Annie’s hand grabbed him by the dick. Smoke tipped his head back and growled.

“You been fighting the urge to give into her…we gon’ have us a good time, Daddy…”

“Fuck, woman….”

Smoke felt Annie free his heavy dick and equally heavy balls. His pipe sat in her warm palm, fingers stretched around him with a firm grip. One hand wasn’t enough, Annie two–hand stroked him. Smoke dropped his head, staring down at Annie work his dick into a stiffness that had his thighs jerking.

“What you do to her, Smoke? You touch her?” Annie whispered.

His dick jumped in her hands.

“Mhm…yes…” Annie chuckled softly, “No wonder you been acting like that…”

His fingers felt good sinking into Amelia’s pussy from the back. Ever since that rainy day, Amelia had been eager to get another chance. Whenever her and Smoke crossed paths, she’d be right there, asking if he needed anything, like a good little helper.

“Need your pipe cleaned out again, Smoke?”

“Are you hungry? Annie’s busy at the shop, I can whip you up something.”

“Smoke, can you help me? My wardrobe’s stuck.”

Bending over in front of him.

Walking in from a bath with her towel on knowing he was around.

Lighting his cigarettes.

His thick fingers glided in and out of her tight puss so good he almost fucked her right there.

But he refused to touch her again without Annie being present. Because he wanted them both. At the same fucking time. And Annie wanted it too.

Smoke’s eyes snapped down at his wife sucking his dick. She used that trick tongue to lick and those succulent lips to slurp him up good. Smoke sank his fingers around her thick bun and guided her head, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth.

“Mmmm…I love your fuckin’ mouth…feels so fuckin’ good.”

Smoke was an absolute wreck with Annie. Big, strong, mean man a submissive to his wife’s mouth and pussy. She get to talking that Creole and throwing it back Smoke gonna bust. She suck it and look in his eyes Smoke gonna drop a load in her until he can’t.

The door slid open.

Smoke tried to pull Annie off but it was too late.

Ameila slipped in and her eyes grew wide when she spotted what Annie was doing. Smoke had a tight clench of his jaw with his lips sealed but Annie throated him and tickled his sack with her tongue. Smoke released a loud moan. Amelia took a seat across from them, her eyes shining with lust and yearning.

Smoke’s brows drew tighter, his full lips moist from biting and licking them. His eyes met Amelia’s and he watched her bring her legs up. She slid her dress past her knees and opened her thighs. Her pliant thighs shot up as she removed her bloomers. She tossed them aside and didn’t hold back giving Smoke a full frontal of her pussy.

Annie looked over at Amelia while still bobbing her head and sucking her husband off.

Annie popped her lips off Smoke’s dick, “You see that pussy, Smoke? That’s the pussy you want so bad…”

Ameila used both hands to spread herself wide.

Smoke licked his lips.

“That’s the pussy I stuck my tongue in that night…” Annie taunted with a whisper so sensual Smoke’s toes curled in his oxfords, “Show him that clit, Lia…”

Amelia pulled the hood back on her clit and Smoke grunted. Her eyes fell to his dick, tracking a dribble of pre cum.

“Smoke…your dick…it’s so big…”

Smoke’s eyes rolled shut.

Thump.

He opened his eyes and right on her knees was Amelia.

Smoke watched her tuck a strand of her hair that escaped her French roll behind her ear. Lips painted a rosey red, she bat her lashes at him while stroking his thigh with her dainty hands covered in lacy gloves. The texture of the gloves made the hairs on his legs stand on end and his dick pulsate in Annie’s jaws.

Annie popped her lips off, “Here, Lia. I know you’ve been waitin’ to have some.”

Ameila gasped faintly, “Thank you, Annie…Thank you, Smoke…”

Smoke felt Annie stroke his other thigh, giving him a reassuring smile. She dragged her other hand down his torso until it rested beneath his shirt. Smoke’s chest rose and fell, anticipating the moment Amelia’s lips were wrapped around his dick.

When she opened wide and captured his dick between her lips, Smoke brought a fist to his mouth, biting down on it hard. He didn’t want to get kicked off of the train, but fuck.

Annie cupped his balls, “She feels good, Big Daddy?”

Smoke’s calloused hands stroked Amelia’s soft hair. He fell in love with the way her strands felt. Amelia looked up into his eyes while sucking.

“So eager, couldn’t wait,” Smoke shoved her head down lower, “Get more in there…you want it so bad…suck this dick…”

Annie kissed and licked his balls while Amelia sucked to her heart’s delight.

“Fucking slut.” Smoke said through clenched teeth.

Annie joined Amelia. They took turns popping their lips off Smoke’s tip, feeding each other some dick, slapping it on their tongues. Smoke had both of them by the hair.

“Both ya’ll use your tongues and lick this stick.”

“Like this?” Annie poked her tongue out as far as it could go, showing Smoke just how good her tongue can lick.

“This how you like it, Smoke?”

Ameila twirled her tongue around his leaky tip before slithering down his shaft, painting the trail of veins with her saliva.

Annie and Amelia licked Smoke up and down like he was a popsicle on a hot Mississippi summer day. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. His shit was standing straight up, balls tight, tip ready to implode like a grenade and shower both of them in cum.

Moans and whimpers echoed around the compartment. Smoke felt hot tears prick his eyes. He felt his release creep up on him so fast he didn’t have time to prepare. His hips shot up off of the seat and his cum sprung from his slit in heavy droplets. He was sweaty and spent, watching with a weak expression as both women cleaned him up.

“Ahhh….uhnnnnnnn…”

He balled his fists and another release came.

Annie had one thigh and Amelia had the other.

“You thought you had control over her, huh? Huh, Big Smoke?” Annie taunted.

Amelia giggled between flicks of her greedy tongue.

“I’m a wear both of ya’ll asses out when we get to that hotel.” Smoke threatened.

“We know.” Annie quipped.

Mound Bayou, Mississippi, served as a haven for African Americans during the 1920s to 30s due to its status as an all-black town founded in 1887 by Isaiah T. Montgomery. It offered a space for self-help, race pride, economic opportunity, and social justice in a self-segregated community, providing a refuge from Jim Crow’s oppressive racial discrimination and segregation. Mound Bayou also boasted numerous black-owned businesses, schools, a library, and other infrastructure, making it a thriving community.

They left the train which wasn’t far from where they planned to stay. The Riverside Hotel provided lodging in the Delta for traveling musicians and like-minded folk. Blues music softly played as they entered the front lobby to check in. Smoke positioned himself at the desk, cigarette sitting between his lips. He adjusted his dick, still hard from the sucking Amelia and Annie gave him.

He had a tremor in his hands. Always had since being in the German trenches with Stack. But this time, his hands shook with anticipation. Excitement. He was about to have one hell of a stay at The Riverside Hotel. Two women sitting pretty fanning themselves off with their legs crossed were to show for it. Clearly, they had a few tricks up their sleeves. Smoke caught them whispering in the backseat on the way to the train station earlier.

“Checking in, handsome?”

A kind, elderly woman recognized him and she threw her arms out for a big hug.

“Oh! Elijah! Elijah!”

“Miss Mabel,” Smoke pulled the frail woman with silver hair into his embrace, “You lookin’ good there! Missed ya’!”

Smoke smiled faintly.

“Missed you! Welcome back to the Delta! How Stack doin’ ? Still acting like a gahdamn fool?!”

“You know it. Nigga ain’t got a serious bone in his body.”

“Is that my Annie?!”

Annie’s pearly whites were on display as she gleamed. She approached Miss Mabel, avoiding kissing her temple after what she got finished doing on the train. Amelia made her way over, giving Miss Mabel a shy wave.

“This Amelia, Annie and I guest for our stay. She from New Orleans.”

“Oooh! How are you, beautiful?”

“I’m doing great, Miss Mabel. Thanks for having me.”

“Any folk of their’s is welcome. Now,” Miss Mabel slipped on her glasses so she could look at her heavy check–in book, “Let’s see…Ah!…oh…”

Smoke arched a brow, “…Errythang alright there?”

Ameila and Annie share a look.

“It’s no fuss…Robby made a mistake…he put ya’ down for a single bed room. A king sized single bed.”

All three of them locked eyes.

“If you wait around I can see what we got left. This weekend is pretty busy with the races goin’ on.”

Miss Mabel appeared stressed. She couldn’t wait to chew Robby, her grandson, out for mixing their rooms up.

“Miss Mabel, it’s alright. We’ll take the room.”

Miss Mabel peered up at him with a sorry expression, “You sure, Smoke? Ya’ know I can get ya’ another room, baby. Just–just hold ya’ horses.”

“Honest, Mama Mabel,” Smoke pressed a hand to his chest sincerely, “We be aight. As long as we got a place to stay under your roof that’s all that matters.”

Annie nodded in agreement, “Smoke’s right. We got all we need, Miss Mabel. Don’t go worrying yourself.”

“Oh,” Miss Mabel relaxed, “Ya’ll always been some good peoples. Here’s ya’ keys,” she dropped one in Smoke’s hand and one in Annie’s, “Enjoy ya’ stay!”

“Thank you,” Smoke pulled out some cash, “This should cover the room and it’s enough in there for you.”

Miss Mabel accepted the crisp bills and pat Smoke on the hand affectionately. He gripped her hand gently, giving it a little squeeze before making his way to the steps leading up to their room. Smoke sat their luggage at the bottom, clearing the way for Amelia and Annie to go up.

“Wait, Elijah—ROBBY! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

“What I do?!”

Robby Perkins, standing at six feet, seven inches, as big as Cornbread but brawny with shiny waves slicked back. Skin the color of burnt umber, his clothes from the denim coveralls he wore to the white shirt clung to his body. He stomped out from the back with a groan.

“Big Robby.”

Robby brought a fist to his mouth with his eyes bugged out in surprise.

“OH SHIT! SMOKE!”

They dabbed each other up, Robby thrilled to see his old friend he used to run around with.

Annie and Amelia said their hello’s, Robby happy to see Annie.

“Boy, help them with their things to the room!”

“Hush up, mama,” Robby grabbed two, “Let’s head on up. Smoke! How was Chicago, man? I know it was a sight to see!”

“Amazing how the brain come up with shit. Skyscrapers and busy streets. People stacked on top of each other…make you appreciate the south more.”

“More than the big city?” Robby asked with a disbelieving laugh.

They made it to the second floor.

“Ain’t nothin’ like the soil and marsh, Robby.”

Smoke flicked out a few tens for Robby.

“‘Ppreciate ya’ Smoke! Annie, Amelia…”

“Bye bye, Robby. Don’t stress Miss Mabel out now.” Annie said.

“She stress me out!”

Smoke opened the door.

It was indeed a room with a king sized bed. They walked into the rectangular room with double doors that led out to a balcony that had a tiny, wooden stool on it. There was a rounded archway that lead to a bathroom with a clawfoot tub, a sink, and a toilet. A gramophone sat in the corner on top of a little table that held old records. It smelled clean, elbow grease and all.

Annie and Amelia tested the bed. It was comfortable.

“Should be big enough for the three of us,” Annie smoothed her hands over the duvet, “Plenty of pillows.”

“It’s cozy. I like it.” Amelia said.

Smoke took a seat at the end. He bounced a little, testing the springs.

“Sturdy…”

He turned to look at both women. They were resting against the pillows, content smiles on their faces.

“I gotta make a couple stops. Here,” Smoke gave Annie some money, “I know you don’t like it, but I want ya’ to splurge. Go get cuter.”

Annie accepted the money with a roll of her eyes and a slight smile.

“Both of ya’ll. I’ll see you a lil’ later.”

“Be safe, Smoke.” Annie said.

Smoke stood, facing his woman before opening his suit jacket, revealing his pistols.

“Always.”

Smoke dipped his head and Annie slipped him some tongue. Ameila watched, twirling a strand of her hair. Smoke broke the kiss, and then he looked at Amelia. She shuddered. He didn’t take his eyes off of her as he made his way over to her. Annie sat up and watched with a bite of her lip Smoke give Amelia tongue.

Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. Smoke could feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath his nose, fingers tangling in her hair as they breathed each other in. Their tongues would appear, swiping over the other, before disappearing. Smoke slipped his tongue from her mouth and Amelia thumbed away spit from his bottom lip.

“Guess you better hurry up so we can get back to this room,” Annie told Smoke with a penetrating gaze.

“I will, baby. Here…”

Smoke sat one of his pistols against the bed.

“You can handle that. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

Smoke made sure he was decent before leaving the room.

Meanwhile, Annie and Amelia decided to take a short nap before going out shopping. They slept for a few hours, waking up to a knock on the door. Annie went to see who it was, and it was someone bringing ice and two bottles of wine.

“Thank you,” Annie accepted the tray and shut the door.

She sat the tray down, and Amelia excused herself to the bathroom. Annie changed her shoes to a more comfy pair. Amelia braided her hair and pinned it up in a halo. They double checked everything before leaving the room to hit the streets of Mound Bayou.

Hand–in–hand, they pointed out a beauty salon, a nail shop, and a restaurant with a speakeasy attached they planned to dine at for the evening. They could smell the good ol’ southern cooking as they walked by. They stopped at the nail shop first, Amelia picking a bright red while Annie chose a neutral shade; soft pink.

Out on the busy street again, Annie mentioned a spot that she planned to visit to see a friend and pick up an order. They made their way to a beautifully displayed boutique with a fancy, cursive sign that read: FRANCESCA’S

Annie held the door open for Amelia.

A sophisticated blend of rich, natural ingredients like amber, patchouli, and sandalwood, with a hint of leather. Warm, resinous, and slightly sweet, evoking a sense of indulgence and exclusivity. They were surrounded by glitz and glamour with an underlying sensuality the deeper you delved. Many garments and accessories and dresses. Lingerie you’d wear for your man or woman. It was a woman’s dream.

Romantic French jazz played, taking them on a voyage across the sea, to cobblestone streets and a view of the Eiffel Tower.

C'est moi qui suis sa petite

Son Anana, son Anana, son Anammite

Je suis vive, je suis charmante

Comme un p'tit oiseau qui chante

Il m'appelle sa p'tite bourgeoise…

Josephine Baker–La Petite Tonkinoise.

Wheels from a sliding ladder paused abruptly in front of them. A graceful woman wearing a billowing, royal blue silk dress and finger–waves in her hair appeared before them. She had the eyes of a woman who was down for a good time. A smile so bright and captivating it made you bend at her will.

“Annie! ma chérie!”

Skin like antique brass, she looked radiant. Slender, tall, and goddess–like. A woman in her early forties.

“Frankie!”

They leaned in and hugged followed by a la bise. Two kisses each.

“Comment vas-tu ? Waouh ! Magnifique!”

“All’s great, Frankie. This is Amelia.”

“Bonjour, Amélia! So happy you made it Annie. I have a dress for you! And we can find a sexy little number for your friend. Follow me, mesdames!”

Amelia and Annie walked between racks of clothing, the different textures and colors exciting them. They made it to a circular room with mirrored walls and mannequins.

Francesca launched liberating slit skirts and low necklines, popularized less restrictive corsets, and promoted alluring, pared-down lingerie in the Delta. She drew inspiration from France, London, Spain, Chicago, and New York. She was born in the French colony Guadeloupe to a wealthy, white plantation owner and a Creole mother. She lived in France until the age of eighteen and then reunited with her mother in Baton Rouge where she taught herself how to sew. She took that opportunity to learn all things fashion.

She’d been friends with Annie for years, someone she could truly confide in. She’d been there for her when Smoke left those seven years ago.

“Here, Here! I saw this beautiful, sea green silk fabric during my stay in France and immediately thought of you, Annie!”

Annie covered her mouth but her eyes said it all.

Amelia was equally as stunned.

Dazzling, demure and divine.

“This is a part of my siren collection. Isn’t she lovely, darling? It embodies the essence of sophistication and allure, ensuring you not only turn heads but also command every room you enter. You have the body, the courbes,” Frankie kisses her fingers, “tu seras une vision! Come, come! Try it on!”

Frankie ushered Annie into a changing room. She turned her attention towards Amelia.

“Let’s see what we can do for you!”

Frankie disappeared, but Amelia could hear her rummaging. Amelia noticed a back room and wondered what was behind that door.

“I’ll show you and Annie that room after this. What do you think?”

“It’s…it’s beautiful…”

The color of champagne. Seductive silk.

“Step into the limelight and embrace your most radiant self with this show-stopping piece! Cuts in the sleeves…diamente clasp…look at the slit!”

It was sexy indeed. Amelia accepted the gown, Frankie leading her to a dressing room. Amelia undressed and quickly pulled on the gown Frankie gave her. Amelia stepped out, and she gasped at her reflection.

Annie appeared and Amelia almost fainted.

“Annie…”

She wore the HELL out of that gown. The sexiest thing Amelia had ever seen her wear. Annie swayed her hips as she posed, stroking her curves and smiling from ear–to–ear.

Annie noticed Amelia and her mouth dropped open.

“Lia, my goodness…”

Amelia twirled, “You like?”

“I LOVE.” Annie said.

“Both of you look breathtaking!” Frankie said.

They didn’t want to take the dresses off, but they needed to preserve it for the opening of the Juke. They got dressed and Frankie boxed their things. She showed them some lingerie pieces, some of which Amelia couldn’t resist buying. She’d never seen anything like it. So bold and daring. She bought as many sheer pieces as she could.

After they did a bit of shopping, they sat down in the circular room, sipping from glasses of champagne. Frankie had one more thing to show them. Something she’d been experimenting with to sell.

“So, I’ve been trying to expand my brand, cater to women’s needs…I’ve done some digging and this is what I found…”

Frankie scurried over to the door to the hidden room excitedly. She motioned for Ameila and Annie to follow her. Frankie unlocked the door and when she opened it, there were shelves full of boxes they couldn’t quite make out. Frankie stepped inside first, the dim lighting casting shadows over her face. Annie studied the boxes, understanding slowly creeping up her face.

“Vibrators?” Ameila questioned with perplexity, “These are…are these for…”

“Sex toys. Hidden in plain sight! Marketed to look like something else! Isn’t that wild? These were invented in 1928. I got my hands on one in New York and fell in love! Figured I’d start selling them. We gotta have a little fun for ourselves while our men away, right?”

Frankie opened a box, pulling one of them out for a closer look, “Since women ain’t owning up to using vibrators on their vaginas or breasts, it's impossible to know how many purchased this as a beauty aid versus its...other uses. I plan to host toy parties! First of its kind! Here, in my shop!”

Frankie handed the vibrator off to Annie first. It uses electricity, which was fascinating enough. Hurray for no more hand cramps — and boasts a textured knob to provide different pleasurable sensations. It was attractive packaging with a pretty green handle. Annie past it on to Amelia, watching her stroke it with mystified eyes.

“One for the each of you. On the house, mes chéries!”

“We can pay for these, Frankie,” Annie said with a meek smile.

What would Smoke think? Would he be willing to use it on Annie?

“Annie, no! These are gifts!”

“Thank you, Frankie, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with this,” Amelia’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“Je vous en prie! Of course! Any time! Now, before you leave, Annie, I have another gift. I was away in Paris and got my hands on this Josephine Baker record! A French record! Come, come!”

They returned to the front of the store, Amelia noticed lace masks. She picked up one, a pretty lavender color, securing it over her eyes. Amelia found a mirror to see how it looked.

“I’ve been dying to get my hands on this! Thanks, Frankie….”

“I see you’ve found the masks!”

Amelia removed it, placing it back where she’d found it.

“They’re sexy, yes? Take one. You too, Annie. Give Smoke a welcome home treat.” Frankie said with a wink.

Once they were loaded, they left the store, Annie still leaving Frankie some money despite her protests. They headed back to the hotel to freshen up and relax.

Annie sat in an armchair across from the bed, removing her stockings and shoes. Amelia sat in the center of the bed, the vibrator plugged in. She turned it on, gliding the little knobs across her arm. Annie opened a bottle of wine and helped herself to some. Amelia sat up on her knees, lifted the side of her dress, and ran the vibrator along her thigh. She gasped when the sensation increased.

“This is fun…I can just imagine how it feels down there…”

Annie joined Amelia.

“Try it on me,” Annie extended her arm.

Amelia moved in closer, testing it out on Annie. Annie’s breath halted and her body shivered.

“Feels good, right?” Ameila whispered.

“Yes…you wanna?”

Amelia’s eyes trailed from Annie’s lips to the device in her hand.

“Yes…yes!”

They rushed to remove their clothes, the breeze past the open balcony doors perking their nipples. Amelia reached for the vibrator again and explored further, stroking her pert nipples with it in a circular motion. Annie helped herself to Amelia’s other nipple, flicking her tongue and wrapping her lips around it to suck.

“Let me see it,” Annie grabbed the vibrator from Amelia’s hand, “Lay back a little, Lia.”

Amelia propped herself up on her elbows and spread her legs. Annie trailed the vibrations down her stomach until she was stroking her patch of pubic hair with it.

“You open up so beautifully, Lia…I can’t wait for Smoke to finally taste you…you’re so sweet and wet…”

Amelia tugged on her nipples, breaths uneven with anticipation. She tilted her pelvis upward, trying to capture that sensation on her bundle of nerves.

“You have to be patient, Lia…”

“It feels too good I can’t,” Amelia cried.

“Patience…”

“Oh, Annie…please…”

Annie smiled, “I love it when you beg.”

Amelia pleaded and begged, hips circling to get that feeling where she wanted it. Annie outlined the shape of her fat pussy, avoiding her clit. She had the knobs of the vibrator sticky from her arousal. A slippery glide.

“Annie…my button…please!”

“You’re being such a good girl, Lia…”

Annie finally gave her what she deserved.

The minute that vibrator came in contact with her clit, Amelia was climaxing. Annie teased her so much. Teased her to the point of release the second the vibration touched her clit. Amelia threw her head back and moaned so loud it could be heard for blocks.

Annie played with her clit, focusing that vibrator right there, causing Amelia to cum again. When Annie finally gave her a chance to relax, Amelia rolled over and curled into a ball.

“You okay, Lia?” Annie asked, stroking her back.

Amelia turned onto her back, wiping tears from her eyes.

“That was amazing,” She looked up at Annie, “You have to try it.”

Annie settled onto her back. Amelia climbed onto in reverse, her pussy in Annie’s mouth while she spread her legs. Annie split Amelia’s folds open, her clit just hanging there for the taking. Annie took turns sucking and licking and probing her hole with her tongue.

Amelia used one hand to spread open Annie’s hairy pussy lips and right there was her clit.

“Put it on my button, Lia. Crank it up.” Annie begged with wet lips from Amelia’s folds.

Amelia put the vibrator on the highest setting. She did what she was told, placing it over the hood of Annie’s clit. Annie immediately writhed, causing Amelia to bounce with glee.

“SHIT!” Annie shouted.

“Got ya’ creaming already, Annie!”

Annie munched on Amelia’s pussy and kept her legs back, welcoming the intensity of the vibrations. Amelia tracked a single trail of creamy white seeping from Annie’s entrance.

Annie hummed against Amelia’s pussy, clit caught between her lips. She was immediately addicted to the way that vibrator felt. And just before she could reach climax, the door to their hotel room opened.

“The fuck?”

Smoke’s hard eyes dropped to the contraption in Amelia’s hand. He cocked his head to the side before shutting the door and locking it up. He dropped his bags off at the door and as he approached them, he removed his suit jacket, unbuttoned his cufflinks, and did the same for his shirt.

He tossed everything to the floor.

“The fuck is this?”

“SMOKE!”

Annie couldn’t hold it in. Amelia giggled, enjoying the way Annie’s breasts collided with her ass from their position. Amelia shut the vibrator off and placed it on the bed so she could climb off of Annie.

Smoke picked up the vibrator by its handle.

“It’s a vibrator. We got it from Frankie.” Annie revealed.

Smoke turned it on, studying it. Amelia and Annie shared a look before their eyes glued onto Smoke’s erection creating a bulge.

Silence.

You could never tell with Smoke, but the wheels in his head were turning.

He finally looked down at them.

“Use it again.”

He handed it to Annie and they watched him settle in a chair across from them. Smoke wasted no time undoing his pants and bringing big boy out again. He stroked himself while lighting a cigarette.

“Go on,” Smoke sat his cigarette between his lips so he could roll his nut sack, “Get to it.”

Annie turned to face Smoke with her head down and her wide backside up. Amelia helped her get the vibrator into position.

“The highest again, Lia…”

The loud rumble of the vibrator filled the room. Smoke watched beyond the fog the cigarette created, eyes zeroed in on his wife with those big cheeks spread and that pink pussy with that hair he loved all open.

“Shiiiit…”

Smoke pumped his dick into his hand with his hips. He stroked it with a backhand and a front hand, making sure to give every inch of that big dick some pleasure. Last time he played with his stick was in Chicago.

Annie’s moans were deep and guttural. That vibrator must feel real good if she making all that noise.

“I’m cumming…”

Smoke poked his bottom lip out, eyes wide and fixated on the way Annie’s pussy fit over the knobs of the vibrator. He peeked between Amelia’s legs and could see the mess she’d made before he walked in.

“Switch.” He barked out.

Smoke watched Amelia get onto her back. Annie grabbed her by the neck and pulled her in for a kiss while her other hand worked the vibrator over her button. Smoke grunted when Amelia started leaking to the bed, like a running faucet.

“You leaking all over the place…that pussy wet as motherfucka…”

Smoke could feel his pre cum coat his fingers.

They were too caught up in the taste of each other’s mouths. Smoke dragged his eyes over Annie and how her breasts hung over her belly. He took in the sight of Amelia with her legs spread wide for him to see just how gushy she is.

He needed to taste her.

Annie seemed to sense his needs.

“Come, Elijah…”

Smoke put his cigarette out. He stood slowly, making his way over to them. Annie still had a hand around Amelia’s throat.

“Get down there and taste.” Annie commanded, “Regarde comme elle a bon goût…”

Smoke was hit in the face with the smell he remembered when snooping in her room. He felt his balls tighten up like he was about to cum all over himself. Smoke groaned, running his calloused hands all over the back of Amelia’s thighs.

Amelia looked down at him with those doe eyes and a slow blink. That pouty bottom lip was between her teeth. Smoke licked a long, deliberately slow trail up her slit. Annie placed a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to enjoy. To savor.

“That’s it…that’s it, Elijah…you see it now, don’t ya’?”

“Oui…” Ameila moaned.

Smoke’s tongue curled around Amelia’s clit in a circular motion, at a snails pace, learning the taste and feel of her.

“Wrap your lips around it, Elijah…do it slow…”

Smoke followed the command of his wife and his full lips were secure around Amelia’s clit. He sucked softly, drawing back gently, savoring and taking his time. Amelia made a mess in his beard.

“Gahdamn,” Smoke spoke with a hushed tone as he took a second to admire her pussy, “taste so fuckin’ good…”

“Smoke…yes…I’ve been waiting…I needed you…”

They locked eyes. Annie spoke Creole in Amelia’s ear. Smoke went lower, slurping up her mess. His hands on her thighs tightened. Amelia moaned angelically, watching Smoke delve deeper, becoming hungrier, more ferocious with it.

“Mhm…mmm,” He moaned with his eyes closed and his mouth unable to control the way his tongue and lips worked, “hmmm….”

“She’s gonna cum, Elijah. Keep going.” Annie urged with a faint whisper.

Loud slurping came from between her legs. He did this thing with his mouth where he sucked and licked at the same time and Amelia trapped his head with her thighs.

“Don’t stop, Elijah…”

“SMOKE!”

Amelia fell apart. She pressed her hand against his forehead and Smoke smacked it away. He opened her up far and didn’t stop until he was ready. Annie played with her titties, watching with her seductive eyes.

“Oh, shit, Smoke, pleaseeeee.”

Amelia erupted. She covered her face with her arm, practically weeping.

Smoke didn’t stop.

“Give her a break, Elijah,” Annie grabbed him by his dick, tugging him, “Elijah…”

That’s when Annie realized he was punishing her. Smoke’s intimidating biceps locked Amelia in place. She looked from Annie to Smoke, tears rolling down her cheeks. Smoke sucked on her button and didn’t let off. Amelia groaned, her entire body shaking.

She was squirting in his mouth. Annie’s jaw dropped open.

Smoke released her clit and peppered soft kisses there before popping up from between her legs. Amelia was speechless. Smoke climbed over her and kissed her lips, delving his tongue deep in her mouth.

“Taste some, baby…”

Smoke shared his tongue and Amelia’s juices with his wife.

“She’s tasty.” Annie said.

“She is…can’t wait to have more.”

Amelia sat up and watched Annie and Smoke share a sloppy kiss. Annie reached for Amelia’s hand, bringing her into the session as well. All three of their tongues collided in a lustrous tango.

The bright voiced piano with its higher sound, creating that lively, clear, and pleasant sound occupied one part of the stage, shrill to some ears. The Piano that’s bass-heavy with its dark voice and booming, rich sound was on the other side.

The horns blaring and drums thumping created a ring–a–ding sound that had people grooving. Round tables and a lengthy bar made up the speakeasy. Thugs and gangsters moved back and forth, all of them recognizing Smoke. Annie and Amelia enjoyed glasses of wine while Smoke sipped on a smoked old fashioned. They had a hearty meal and delicious pie beforehand. Amelia shook her hips in her seat while Annie snapped her fingers.

“Meant to ask what you go do earlier?!” Annie asked Smoke.

“Met up with a man about selling some liquor. He wanna buy a couple crates off me. Then I had to pick up Stack’s golds. Made a pit stop to my gun man. He hooked me up with a new pistol!”

Amelia drank the rest of her wine down.

The band kicked up and Amelia stood, popping her backside. Smoke eyed her up and down with a quirk of his brow and a smirk. Annie cheered her on.

“Let me go relieve myself,” Annie leaned over to whisper something in Smoke’s ear before she got up, “Be back!”

When she left, Amelia reached for more wine but Smoke filled her glass himself.

“Thank you, Smoke.”

She gave him a bashful smile. She didn’t understand why she felt so timid with him after he was eating her pussy out multiple times earlier. She even had his dick seated in the back of her throat.

Maybe Annie’s presence gave her more confidence. Amelia could deal with Stack’s playful archetype, but Smoke is the strong, silent type. It left her unable to hold his gaze for longer than five seconds.

“Come here…”

Smoke pat the seat beside him where Annie had occupied. Ameila scooted over. She could smell his cologne. He smelled like vanilla and bourbon.

Smoke’s eyes connected with hers.

“Annie and myself want you to relax. Now, I’m speaking to ya’ because I know how I make ya’ feel. We past all that, understand? We done tasted each other more than once. It’s best you breathe…”

Amelia exhaled. Her shoulders were bunched up and she didn’t even realize it.

“Better?” Smoke asked.

“Yes.” Amelia replied with a slow nod and a smile.

“I ain’t gotta tell ya’ again do I?”

“No, Sir.”

Smoke sat his hand on Amelia’s thigh. She was wearing a shorter dress, an all black one that cinched at the waist and flared at the hips. She wore her hair in an updo with the top swirled and the back tucked under. She took a chance and wore thigh high, black stockings with a lace trim.

His finger tips stroked her inner thigh, tickling her. He inched higher, Amelia planting her hands against the table. Her back stiffened when Smoke thumbed her clit. No underwear.

Annie returned and sat in Amelia’s seat. A waiter came over, a young girl with high energy. Annie ordered another bottle of wine and another old fashioned for her husband. Annie waited until the waiter was gone before peaking beneath the table. She reached under and secured Amelia’s knee, keeping her leg open.

“Thank ya’, wifey.” Smoke said

“Welcome, husband.” Annie replied with a smile.

Smoke sank two fingers deep. He grunted, sharing a look with Annie.

“You always this messy, Amelia?” Smoke asked.

He finger–fucked her and watched the crowd. Annie accepted the wine, helping herself to some more.

“When we get back to the hotel, Lia, Me and Smoke gonna have our way with ya’…”

Amelia’s hips angled so that Smoke could have a deeper descent. She brought a handkerchief to her mouth, stifling her moans. Despite the band’s loud performance, she could hear her pussy talking.

“I know Stack opened this pussy up, but when I get up in it, you gon’ see why they call me Smoke…”

Amelia’s walls gripped Smoke’s thick fingers.

“It’s okay, Lia,” Annie soothed, “Took me a while to get used to how big he is when we first met. Once you get past the ache, it’ll feel like heaven…told ya’ that’s what comes wit’ fucking a Moore man…”

“I can feel myself—”

“Go head and rain, baby girl…”

Amelia squirted in her seat. Her head landed on Annie’s shoulder. Annie rocked her back and forth while Smoke thumbed her clit. He eased his fingers out of her gently before fixing her dress back.

It was time to go.

Smoke waved the waiter down. He paid the bill and all three of them left the table. Smoke holding Ameila and Annie by the waist as they made it out on the street. Onlookers watched with envy, wishing they had two pretty gals on their arm. They entered The Riverside Hotel, Robby perched at the front desk. He stood from his seat when he noticed them.

Bring up some warm towels and rags, plenty of ‘em. You gon’ be here if I need a change of sheets?”

Robby couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Y–yeah, Smoke. When ya’ want the towels and rags?”

“You got a cart to leave ‘em on? Just knock.”

They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Smoke opened the door to their room. Annie entered first, grabbing the Josephine Baker record to play. Smoke started to undress.

On dit qu'au-delà des mers

Là-bas sous le ciel clair

Il existe une cité

Au séjour enchanté

Et sous les grands arbres noirs

Chaque soir

Vers elle s'en va tout mon espoir…

Annie gyrated her hips and felt herself up. Cupping her titties, feeling on her rump. Ameila kicked off her black, velvet T-straps and unbuttoned her dress, revealing only a bra and her knee high stockings. Bra off, she helped Annie undress while they danced to the music. Smoke was fully naked.

Dick poked out.

Balls heavy.

Arms flexed.

He was ready.

Annie spun Amelia around and then she let go of her hand, Amelia twirling. They giggled and smiled, tipsy from the wine. Smoke had a little buzz himself from the two old fashioned glasses he had. Amelia went over to a decorative box and opened it, revealing lace masks. She handed Annie one, and helped her secure it. Amelia tied her own on.

Whatever this was, Smoke liked it.

But he was ready to get down to business.

He picked Amelia up, one arm around her waist, her hands on his shoulders. He placed her on her back and Annie joined his side.

“Damn, look at ya’…”

Smoke juggled her tits in his hand. He used her breasts like earmuffs and rubbed his face in between. One of his hands reached between her legs, pushing two fingers up in her. Annie bucked her hips, bringing one foot up to the bed. Smoke was digging in Annie’s walls deep.

Her eyes glistened past the lace of her mask, staring into her husband’s eyes weakly. His dick bounced each time Annie nibbled on his ear. Ameila brought her knees up and stroked herself. One finger sinking in.

Smoke and Annie heard the sounds her pussy made. They pulled apart, climbing up onto the bed. Both of them went on their stomachs and with each of Amelia’s legs out of the way, Smoke and Annie started licking her pussy at the same time.

“Eat this pussy up…mmmm…”

Both of their tongues fought for dominance, gliding against each other, attacking her clit from each side. Smoke gave Annie a chance to enjoy Amelia’s clit while he tongue fucked her.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, mhm,” was Smoke’s response to Amelia’s pleas of “don’t stop, right there, feels so good, eat me up.”

Annie was on that clit, sucking softly, delivering delicate kisses with her puckered lips. Amelia sat up on her elbows, hair in her face, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn’t know who to focus on, both of them working hard to make her cum.

“She’s close…” Annie says between licks.

Smoke simply groaned and joined Annie with his tongue while his fingers sank inside of her again. To see both of them between her legs like this overwhelmed Amelia in the best way. Smoke’s handsome face and that thick tongue. Annie’s beautiful lips and soft tongue. Amelia had both hands on the back of their heads.

“Give us what we want…”Annie commanded.

“Cum in our mouth…” Smoke said with a husky tone.

Amelia shook beneath their tongues. Smoke could feel her walls clamping down on his fingers.

Husband and wife flicked tongues. Amelia gathered some of her wetness between her legs, sampling it for herself. While she sucked on her fingers, Smoke got on his knees between her legs, aiming his dick at her pussy like a bullseye. Annie spit on his tip before sucking with a greedy mouth.

“You love sucking this dick, ain’t gotta ask you…”

Annie sure did. She hummed in agreement.

Her lips popped off his tip and she grabbed him by the balls while Smoke pointed his dick for entry. Amelia’s lower lip quivered when Smoke only put the tip in.

“Ooo—”

“Didn’t I tell you to relax, gal?”

Smoke popped Amelia on her thigh rough.

“Don’t you move again.”

Smoke started from the top. Annie helped herself to Amelia’s nipples. Smoke pushed in again, feeding her pussy cat more dick than before. Amelia moaned to the ceiling, inner thighs shaking. That curve was a different sensation. Stack’s curved down, Smoke’s curved to the side. He was hitting areas she ain’t never felt with a dick.

“Oh, my goodness,” Amelia inhaled sharply when Smoke plunged deeper, “SIR!”

“Puss, so tight, look at this shit, Annie.”

Annie peered between her legs. She could see her walls tugging on Smoke in a vice grip.

“Open her up, Smoke. She need more dick in her.” Annie said.

Smoke propped himself up and dropped dick off in her wet, tight, slit. Amelia had no where to run. Annie could hear Smoke’s balls slapping Amelia’s ass and he wasn’t even stroking fast. It was a torturous game. He would delve deep, hold, then draw back to the tip, and then deep again in one fluid motion. He wanted her to feel all of him. Amelia couldn’t see past the tears welling up in her orbs.

She was stuttering, mumbling, crying.

“Smoke, my pussy, it’s so open, I feel it–I feel it stretching m–me…”

Smoke didn’t care, he increased the pace of his hips, his groin knocking against her. The bed bounced, whoever stayed beneath them were afraid they’d come through the ceiling for certain.

The sudden sensation of plunging into the wettest vessel crept over Smoke, prickly and twisting his stomach into butterflies. She was creaming on him. And they could all hear it. He had to slow down or else his dick will slip out. Smoke folded Amelia in half and put all his weight on the back of her knees. Annie had to stop sucking on her nipples to see what all that commotion was about.

“Lia…girl…ya’ making a big mess!”

Smoke slammed into her with his toes planted.

“YES!!!!!!”

He buried himself to the hilt to feel her walls convulse with her orgasm. Annie peppered kisses all over Amelia’s face.

Smoke withdrew his hips, dick swinging and dripping, “Aight ass in the air.”

Amelia’s knees wobbled beneath her as she arched her back.

“Let me see…”

Smoke stood behind her, and Annie cleaned her up and did the same for Smoke’s dick. Annie grabbed Smoke at the base and pushed him inside.

“Ahhhhhh, shiiit,” Smoke frowned his face.

He secured Amelia by her hips and pumped her from behind. Her ass ricocheted, cheeks clapping each time Smoke entered her. A wet, slippery sound mixed with skin slapping filled the hotel room. Smoke put a hand between Annie’s legs and stroked her clit, looking her in the eyes. 

Amelia’s hands flailed, and she tried to push Smoke off but he secured her elbows with both of his hands and drilled into her.

“You ain’t goin’ no where, take this dick!”

Annie settled in front of Amelia. Smoke slowed down some so Amelia could eat on Annie’s cat while he fucked her from behind.

“All this ass…”

Smoke slapped her cheeks around.

Amelia tongued Annie’s clit. Annie kept her mouth where it belonged—full of pussy—with a fist full of her hair. Like a good little bitch.

Amelia’s hips shook out of control and she couldn’t utter a sound with her face buried between Annie’s thighs. Smoke didn’t care that she was cumming he fucked that pussy until she was squirting again.

Smoke had Amelia all over that bed. He was gonna get his no matter what.

Annie sat on his mouth, bouncing her pussy on his tongue while he gripped Amelia at the waist to keep her stationary over his dick while he thrusted up into her. Annie leaked down his chin and Smoke whacked her on the rump hard—left cheek, right cheek—until she came for him. All that big beauty glistening with sweat.

Annie climbed off and switched places with Amelia. Amelia sat on Smoke’s face reverse so she could kiss and suck on Annie’s titties while she rode Smoke’s big dick.

Smoke splayed his arms out while Annie did her thing, bouncing on it from base to tip, titties smacking against Amelia’s. They kissed deeply, Amelia smearing her pussy cat all over Smoke’s face.

“Yes, mhm, Daddy this big dick, uhhh, love this dick, Smoke, I love you, I love the way you make love to me, AHHH!”

Amelia could have cried from how beautiful Annie looked. She was right behind Annie, ready to flood Smoke’s mouth. Annie hopped off and Amelia leaned over to suck Smoke’s dick clean. Amelia jerked him while humping Smoke’s face.

“Annie, look how your husband eatin’ this pussy!”

Amelia squeezed Smoke’s dick with both hands and bowed her back, releasing into his mouth. She lifted to give Smoke some fresh air. Smoke was on his knees, Annie and Amelia arched over and sucking his dick in turn. Smoke had both of them by the hair, controlling their movements. He would tug on Annie to let go of his dick with her lips so Amelia could have a turn.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

“I’m a bust…”

He whacked them on the ass and fell back against the bed, his dick jumping and jerking with each swipe of their tongues and suction of their lips. His eyes rolled shut and then came the spasm of his hips. His abs flexed, body pushing to release a load so thick and creamy, Annie and Amelia had a hard time getting it all down. They had to let some of it drip over their breasts and down their chins.

Knock knock knock

“Warm towels and rags, Smoke!”

All three of them laughed, drunk off of sex. Smoke peeled himself from under both women, each of them practically clawing at him to stay in bed.

It was gonna be a long night.

“Ya’ll gotta give me a break…”

Smoke pulled on his pants and opened the door.

Robby tried to peek past him, but Smoke shut the door behind him further.

“Good lookin’ out, Robby…”

“Uh…need some help in there?” Robby asked, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.

Smoke curled his top lip, mugging Robby down.

“Nah, nigga. I got this.”

Smoke shut the door in Robby’s face.

“Stingy,” Robby whispered spitefully as he walked off.

@blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams @rolemodelshit

[moth2flamewriting]

Publicity Stunt

here we go.. i really love this story and am so excited for you all to read it.

Modern. Smoke x Annie

as always,

ENJOY.

She didn't want to fucking marry Joshua LeCreux. That was the last thing she wanted to fucking do. Why couldn't her father understand that? What did she have to do to get through to them?

"Baby girl, did you hear what I said?" Her dad inquired. Isaiah Bishop, the local preacher. Well known and respected in the community. Held to the highest standard by everyone.

She was tuning him out. "Yeah, Daddy I heard you."

All he said to her was that he's marrying her off to some random man with a good reputation and money.

She didn't want money, she wanted whirlwind romance. She wanted to be swept off her feet. She wanted butterflies and flowers. She wanted, the one she couldn't live without. Not some man with a creepy ass smile.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. The more she wanted to fight for herself.

"I'm not marrying that man Daddy," she held her head high.

"Like hell you not! Ain't no question about it," he boomed fist hitting the dinner table.

"I want love, like real love. You taking that option from me, how is that fair?" Her eyebrows were woven tightly together. Udder confusion on her face.

"Life ain't fair Annie," the tone from him had finality.

Stubborn as her daddy was, she was too. "I'm not doing it."

He rose from his chair, gripping the sides of the table so hard his knuckles were white. "Annelise," he grumbles.

"Daddy please, at least let me try before you ship me off," Annie sobbed. She broke down, face falling into her hands.

He felt sorry for not even considering her. For assuming she would just fall in line. He not even thought what she would think. He was so busy playing match maker.

"I'm sorry," he retreated to his seat. "How about we make a deal. I'll give you a year. If nothing pans out, then you must accept his hand in marriage. But at least say you'll give him a chance during this trial," he asked.

She was so happy she didn't care about the time frame at the moment. She got up and wrapped her arms around her father, thanking him repeatedly. "Thank you Dad!"

Annie scurried to her room, leaving her father at the table with a small smile on his face. Hoping for the outcome she wanted in this whole situation. He would give her a chance to figure it out.

She was not shy. She was beautiful. Full figure. Smart. Witty. Plenty of people wanted to have her hand or even a chance. But she vibrated higher than most. And that intimidated men. She wasn't a bow down type of woman. And men wanted that.

She had to figure something out to make her dreams a reality.

In her room she scrolled through her phone on a dating app. Trying to find someone interesting and attractive enough. It wasn't working at all.

She had the thought to call Elijah. Elijah Moore, her best friend. Her first friend in the Delta. She could talk to him about anything.

"Hello," he answered quickly.

"Hi," she replied.

"I have something to tell you," he stated plainly. He was not in a good mood. You could hear it in his voice.

"My parents want me to marry Sophia," his voice deflated. How could they possibly be going through the same thing.

Why did their parents want them married so badly? What was the rush. They were twenty-two and twenty-three years old.

"Elijah there's no fuckin way they want you to marry that nutjob," she giggled.

Sophia was.. interesting to say the least. She was eccentric outfits and had a ridiculously high pitched voice. And as much brain in her head as a mouse.

"Annie, it's really not funny. What the fuck am I going to do?"

"Well it looks like we're not too different. Daddy wants me to marry Joshua LeCreux," she sighed into the phone.

"Now that is laughable," Elijah chuckled.

It was funny. What the fuck was she going to do with Joshua? He was self absorbed. Never asked about her interest or anything about her really. Put a mirror in front of him, and he won't notice anything but that greasy hair and creepy smile.

"He gave me a year. Which now I am realizing is a very little amount of time. I'm fucked. I'm going to have to marry Josh greasy ass," she groaned. Flipping over to her stomach.

"Hello?" She thought the line disconnected.

When really Elijah was thinking. Of a way both of them could get out of this.

"Meet me outside in 10 minutes. I have an idea," and he hung up.

'This nigga always got an idea' she thought to herself.

He pulled up on her exactly 10 minutes later.

Elijah: Here

Annie:Coming

When she came out he was leaning up against the passenger side door. Exhaling, he knew her dad didn't like it when he smoked in front of their house.

"Put that out before my dad has a fucking heart attack," she demands.

"You right you right," he says thru his last puff before he puts it out.

"What was this bright idea you just had to talk to me about right now?" Even though she was skeptical, she was still interested in what he had to say. She would take anything at this point.

"We both don't wanna marry these people, right?"

"Right," she agrees.

"So how about, we.. date eachother?" It came out sheepishly. He was rubbing the back of his hand.

She snorted. "Elijah what the actual fuck."

"Annie think about it though," he encouraged her.

And she did. She didn't know what exactly to think. Elijah? I mean her dad liked him, his parents liked her. It could be possible?

"Elijah I don't know. It sounds good but like," she froze.

She had worries. There were concerns. About everything.

"Annie, we could really sell this!" He was excited.

"I don't know Elijah," she was hesitant.

"Would you rather, fake it with me or actually have to marry him?" Eyebrow arched, presenting her with an easy to answer question.

"Okay, but we need ground rules."

She was nervous and excited. Scared and felt free.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship," she starts off. "So I think we should only kiss if necessary, appropriate touches and such," she shyed away a bit,

He walks over to her, rubbing her arms trying to get her to breathe.

"ANNIE STOP! I'm a gentleman. You're my best friend, I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I'll always confirm with you first," he reassured her.

She let out a deep breath. She trusted him. She always has. Who better to fake it with than Elijah?

Even though everything in her was telling her not to. She did it anyway.

"How will we break it to our parents?" she asked.

"You just leave that up to me," he replied.

The stood in a comfortable silence. Both breathing easier since the agreement was made.

"Do you think we should go on dates? To make it believable," he inquired.

"Yeah, I think that would be ideal," she agreed.

"Okay then, I'll pick you up in a few days. Wear something casual," he responded.

They hugged and he got in his car.

"Be safe," she called after him then returned to her house.

Inside, she smiles to herself. Thinking she found a loophole around this silly ass situation. Thanking the stars for a friend like Elijah.

Finding hope in such a shitty situation.

She went to bed that night with Elijah on her mind. They really were doing it for eachother.

to be continued..

[moth2flamewriting]

that's what I like to hear!!

Suspended

Welp, I need to stay off this app so late at night. I literally saw this idea & stopped writing to quickly write this.

modern day smoke x annie

tw: they just fuckin in this so if that's not your vibe then.. idk please dont read it?

as always,

ENJOY.

"Babe, I'm not taking that. You are crazy as hell," he always came up with dumbass ideas.

They were getting ready to go to a wedding.

Annie doing her makeup.

Smoke fucking up his hair in the mirror trying to copy Stack's exact instructions. He ain't give a fuck about his hair.

"You keep saying you wanna enjoy your night and how we never get to go out and shit. I offered you a solution," Smoke replied.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out weed, some papers and a lighter. He took the weed between his fingers and crushed it up into the paper. With a quick swipe of the tongue he rolled it to perfection.

Pulling the lighter out of his shirt pocket, he sparked the blunt. Taking a pull, he enhaled through his nose, he held it in for a few seconds.

He extended his arm offering the 'devils lettuce', as she called it. She didn't like smoking since that one back experience that we are NOT going to discuss. But since she got with Elijah, he kind of mellowed her out and gave her good experiences. So every once in a while, she indulged.

"If I have to be carried out tonight, this is on you," she said accepting.

They continued to get ready. Laughing, listening to their favorite songs and just enjoying getting ready together.

When Annie stood up, the high hit her like a truck.

Putting on her shoes.

Smoke offering her, her coat.

Getting into the car.

Putting on her seat belt.

All in slow motion.

She giggled to herself, she knew she was tripping out. 'Thats why he never offered to smoke often' she thought to herself. Which made her giggle even more.

"You high as hell," he fucked with her.

He was talking to her, but she was no longer laughing while she was looking at her man. The way his left hand gripped the stearing wheel. The way his arm sat on the arm rest. Muscles flexing involuntarily. 'Goddamn this nigga look so good.'

She had a heartbeat between her legs.

"How long until we get there?"

He reached over taking her hand into his. "We're about 30 minutes out, so just sit back and relax."

How the fuck could she relax? He smoked 3 blunts with her. And now, she was so relaxed that she wanted to fuck. And she wanted to do it now.

She unbuckled her seat belt.

"Babe, put you seatbelt on," he chastised her.

He hated when she rode in the car without her seatbelt on.

"Smoke , the seatbelt feels soo tight around me," she was trying to hint at what she wanted.

"Annie, put the damn seatbelt on," he wasn't catching on.

"I need you to help me do something really quick."

As quickly and quietly as she could, she pulled her dress up to her waist. She spread her legs as far as the door and middle console would allow.

"Give me your hand please," she said.

He offered his hand, she took it into hers. She guided him to her saturated panties.

"I knew it, you always become a horn dog when you smoke more than one blunt," he laughed.

"Your hand feels soo good on me baby," she whined. He was playing around and she was getting herself off on his huge fingers.

He didn't even have to directly touch her, she was wet with anticipation.

Rocking back and forth she rubbed her hardened clit against his fingers.

"Smoke- I- Daddy don't move," she cried out. Annie was sunken into the chair now, with her leg on the dash and one in his lap.

Rubbing her pussy through her saturated underwear. They were soaked. He wanted to be in her.

"Cum on Daddy's hand baby, get that nut," he grunted.

He was trying to focus on the road and on her. But if he didn't choose soon, they would crash.

"Oh baby, you bout to make me cum! I wanna cum on your dick baby," whimpering under his hand.

Yanking his hand away. He pulled into a, thankfully, vacant and dark parking lot.

Leaning over he ripped the panties off her body. Feeling how wet they were had his dick pressing up against his pants painfully.

He rubbed his fingers over her pussy. Spreading her juices all over. Groaning at how he was slipping all over her.

"Pussy so wet, cum on my hand," he was talking and walking her through it. She couldn't control the sounds coming out of her.

"K-k-keep fingering my pus- Daddy, you gon make me cu-" her breath caught at the back of her throat. Struggling to get the words out.

"Give it to me baby."

"Look at you beautiful."

"I love playing with you."

"Elijah- oh my fucking god! I'm cumming daddy," her body was convulsing. Feet clenched, finger nails digging into his arm, trying to steady herself and catch her breath while she came undone.

"Good girl. I got a surprise for you," he said.

He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pouch. In it held a lighter and a blunt.

"4!? YOU WANT ME TO SMOKE AGAIN?"

He had plans for her and this blunt.

"Get in the back."

She didn't ask any questions, she just did it.

He joined her in the backseat and pulled her into his lap. Their sex aligned. Her pussy lips planted directly onto his now exposed and hard dick.

Trying to focus on the task, he sparked it. Ghost inhaling. She put her lips to his as he exhaled. Slight movement of her waist. She was grinding on his dick slow. It was intoxicating.

Annie was wetting him up. Pussy leaking at the friction. His dick was dripping wet from her.

"Daddy please, just put the tip in me," she whispered.

He was still smoking, enjoying watching her try and get herself onto him.

Smoke grabbed himself, teasing her entrance with the head. She was tight, it was always a fight trying to get in her.

"Arch it up for me baby," he groaned.

Lifting her hips, he slipped right in. Both howling from the swift entry.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

Annie started riding him slow. Hands pinned to his chest. She felt like she was suspended in air. He was filling her up to the brim.

"Ride that dick baby," he kissed her neck. Sucking and licking deep into her spot. He placed his hand on the back of her neck to help guide her.

What was once and slow ride, turned rapid.

He was meeting her thrust for thrust. Pounding into her pussy from the bottom. She was squirting all over him, ruining his pants.

"You so deep in me, " she was floating. It feel like a deep hug, she could feel him from the top of her head, to the bottom of her feet.

"You sooo deep in me Smoke," she wailed. She lifted her body up, to get away from the overwhelming feeling at the bottom of her stomach.

"Sit on this fucking dick baby, let me put my nut in you," he demanded. Smoke grabbed her waist and yanked her back onto him, "Don't run from me."

She folding right into him, throwing her arms around him, clinging to his chest and his continued his assault on her pussy. She couldn't do nothing but take it.

Feeling like she was going to explode she clawed at the seats, the back of his head, his suit jacket. Trying to find something to grab.

"I'm bout to cum in you Mama, open that pussy up for me," he grunted.

"Elijah, I'm bout to cum all over your dick. You fuckin me so good. Keep fucking me just like that," she was begging.

Orgasm crashing over them both. Heavy panting. Foggy windows. Smoke in the air.

They stared into eachothers eyes, sharing a quiet moment between them.

And then,

"I should get you high more often."

the end.

yeah, i saw it and i took it. enjoy. thanks for the idea!!🩵 hope i did it some justice!

thanks for reading!!!

[moth2flamewriting]

YALL MIGHT WANNA GET INTO THIS!!!

Suspended

Welp, I need to stay off this app so late at night. I literally saw this idea & stopped writing to quickly write this.

modern day smoke x annie

tw: they just fuckin in this so if that's not your vibe then.. idk please dont read it?

as always,

ENJOY.

"Babe, I'm not taking that. You are crazy as hell," he always came up with dumbass ideas.

They were getting ready to go to a wedding.

Annie doing her makeup.

Smoke fucking up his hair in the mirror trying to copy Stack's exact instructions. He ain't give a fuck about his hair.

"You keep saying you wanna enjoy your night and how we never get to go out and shit. I offered you a solution," Smoke replied.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out weed, some papers and a lighter. He took the weed between his fingers and crushed it up into the paper. With a quick swipe of the tongue he rolled it to perfection.

Pulling the lighter out of his shirt pocket, he sparked the blunt. Taking a pull, he enhaled through his nose, he held it in for a few seconds.

He extended his arm offering the 'devils lettuce', as she called it. She didn't like smoking since that one back experience that we are NOT going to discuss. But since she got with Elijah, he kind of mellowed her out and gave her good experiences. So every once in a while, she indulged.

"If I have to be carried out tonight, this is on you," she said accepting.

They continued to get ready. Laughing, listening to their favorite songs and just enjoying getting ready together.

When Annie stood up, the high hit her like a truck.

Putting on her shoes.

Smoke offering her, her coat.

Getting into the car.

Putting on her seat belt.

All in slow motion.

She giggled to herself, she knew she was tripping out. 'Thats why he never offered to smoke often' she thought to herself. Which made her giggle even more.

"You high as hell," he fucked with her.

He was talking to her, but she was no longer laughing while she was looking at her man. The way his left hand gripped the stearing wheel. The way his arm sat on the arm rest. Muscles flexing involuntarily. 'Goddamn this nigga look so good.'

She had a heartbeat between her legs.

"How long until we get there?"

He reached over taking her hand into his. "We're about 30 minutes out, so just sit back and relax."

How the fuck could she relax? He smoked 3 blunts with her. And now, she was so relaxed that she wanted to fuck. And she wanted to do it now.

She unbuckled her seat belt.

"Babe, put you seatbelt on," he chastised her.

He hated when she rode in the car without her seatbelt on.

"Smoke , the seatbelt feels soo tight around me," she was trying to hint at what she wanted.

"Annie, put the damn seatbelt on," he wasn't catching on.

"I need you to help me do something really quick."

As quickly and quietly as she could, she pulled her dress up to her waist. She spread her legs as far as the door and middle console would allow.

"Give me your hand please," she said.

He offered his hand, she took it into hers. She guided him to her saturated panties.

"I knew it, you always become a horn dog when you smoke more than one blunt," he laughed.

"Your hand feels soo good on me baby," she whined. He was playing around and she was getting herself off on his huge fingers.

He didn't even have to directly touch her, she was wet with anticipation.

Rocking back and forth she rubbed her hardened clit against his fingers.

"Smoke- I- Daddy don't move," she cried out. Annie was sunken into the chair now, with her leg on the dash and one in his lap.

Rubbing her pussy through her saturated underwear. They were soaked. He wanted to be in her.

"Cum on Daddy's hand baby, get that nut," he grunted.

He was trying to focus on the road and on her. But if he didn't choose soon, they would crash.

"Oh baby, you bout to make me cum! I wanna cum on your dick baby," whimpering under his hand.

Yanking his hand away. He pulled into a, thankfully, vacant and dark parking lot.

Leaning over he ripped the panties off her body. Feeling how wet they were had his dick pressing up against his pants painfully.

He rubbed his fingers over her pussy. Spreading her juices all over. Groaning at how he was slipping all over her.

"Pussy so wet, cum on my hand," he was talking and walking her through it. She couldn't control the sounds coming out of her.

"K-k-keep fingering my pus- Daddy, you gon make me cu-" her breath caught at the back of her throat. Struggling to get the words out.

"Give it to me baby."

"Look at you beautiful."

"I love playing with you."

"Elijah- oh my fucking god! I'm cumming daddy," her body was convulsing. Feet clenched, finger nails digging into his arm, trying to steady herself and catch her breath while she came undone.

"Good girl. I got a surprise for you," he said.

He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pouch. In it held a lighter and a blunt.

"4!? YOU WANT ME TO SMOKE AGAIN?"

He had plans for her and this blunt.

"Get in the back."

She didn't ask any questions, she just did it.

He joined her in the backseat and pulled her into his lap. Their sex aligned. Her pussy lips planted directly onto his now exposed and hard dick.

Trying to focus on the task, he sparked it. Ghost inhaling. She put her lips to his as he exhaled. Slight movement of her waist. She was grinding on his dick slow. It was intoxicating.

Annie was wetting him up. Pussy leaking at the friction. His dick was dripping wet from her.

"Daddy please, just put the tip in me," she whispered.

He was still smoking, enjoying watching her try and get herself onto him.

Smoke grabbed himself, teasing her entrance with the head. She was tight, it was always a fight trying to get in her.

"Arch it up for me baby," he groaned.

Lifting her hips, he slipped right in. Both howling from the swift entry.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

Annie started riding him slow. Hands pinned to his chest. She felt like she was suspended in air. He was filling her up to the brim.

"Ride that dick baby," he kissed her neck. Sucking and licking deep into her spot. He placed his hand on the back of her neck to help guide her.

What was once and slow ride, turned rapid.

He was meeting her thrust for thrust. Pounding into her pussy from the bottom. She was squirting all over him, ruining his pants.

"You so deep in me, " she was floating. It feel like a deep hug, she could feel him from the top of her head, to the bottom of her feet.

"You sooo deep in me Smoke," she wailed. She lifted her body up, to get away from the overwhelming feeling at the bottom of her stomach.

"Sit on this fucking dick baby, let me put my nut in you," he demanded. Smoke grabbed her waist and yanked her back onto him, "Don't run from me."

She folding right into him, throwing her arms around him, clinging to his chest and his continued his assault on her pussy. She couldn't do nothing but take it.

Feeling like she was going to explode she clawed at the seats, the back of his head, his suit jacket. Trying to find something to grab.

"I'm bout to cum in you Mama, open that pussy up for me," he grunted.

"Elijah, I'm bout to cum all over your dick. You fuckin me so good. Keep fucking me just like that," she was begging.

Orgasm crashing over them both. Heavy panting. Foggy windows. Smoke in the air.

They stared into eachothers eyes, sharing a quiet moment between them.

And then,

"I should get you high more often."

the end.

yeah, i saw it and i took it. enjoy. thanks for the idea!!🩵 hope i did it some justice!

thanks for reading!!!

[moth2flamewriting]

my girl down on bended knee tryna get thru to him!! 😂🥴

HOLD UPPPPPP 😍😍😍

[moth2flamewriting]

Suspended

Welp, I need to stay off this app so late at night. I literally saw this idea & stopped writing to quickly write this.

modern day smoke x annie

tw: they just fuckin in this so if that's not your vibe then.. idk please dont read it?

as always,

ENJOY.

"Babe, I'm not taking that. You are crazy as hell," he always came up with dumbass ideas.

They were getting ready to go to a wedding.

Annie doing her makeup.

Smoke fucking up his hair in the mirror trying to copy Stack's exact instructions. He ain't give a fuck about his hair.

"You keep saying you wanna enjoy your night and how we never get to go out and shit. I offered you a solution," Smoke replied.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out weed, some papers and a lighter. He took the weed between his fingers and crushed it up into the paper. With a quick swipe of the tongue he rolled it to perfection.

Pulling the lighter out of his shirt pocket, he sparked the blunt. Taking a pull, he enhaled through his nose, he held it in for a few seconds.

He extended his arm offering the 'devils lettuce', as she called it. She didn't like smoking since that one back experience that we are NOT going to discuss. But since she got with Elijah, he kind of mellowed her out and gave her good experiences. So every once in a while, she indulged.

"If I have to be carried out tonight, this is on you," she said accepting.

They continued to get ready. Laughing, listening to their favorite songs and just enjoying getting ready together.

When Annie stood up, the high hit her like a truck.

Putting on her shoes.

Smoke offering her, her coat.

Getting into the car.

Putting on her seat belt.

All in slow motion.

She giggled to herself, she knew she was tripping out. 'Thats why he never offered to smoke often' she thought to herself. Which made her giggle even more.

"You high as hell," he fucked with her.

He was talking to her, but she was no longer laughing while she was looking at her man. The way his left hand gripped the stearing wheel. The way his arm sat on the arm rest. Muscles flexing involuntarily. 'Goddamn this nigga look so good.'

She had a heartbeat between her legs.

"How long until we get there?"

He reached over taking her hand into his. "We're about 30 minutes out, so just sit back and relax."

How the fuck could she relax? He smoked 3 blunts with her. And now, she was so relaxed that she wanted to fuck. And she wanted to do it now.

She unbuckled her seat belt.

"Babe, put you seatbelt on," he chastised her.

He hated when she rode in the car without her seatbelt on.

"Smoke , the seatbelt feels soo tight around me," she was trying to hint at what she wanted.

"Annie, put the damn seatbelt on," he wasn't catching on.

"I need you to help me do something really quick."

As quickly and quietly as she could, she pulled her dress up to her waist. She spread her legs as far as the door and middle console would allow.

"Give me your hand please," she said.

He offered his hand, she took it into hers. She guided him to her saturated panties.

"I knew it, you always become a horn dog when you smoke more than one blunt," he laughed.

"Your hand feels soo good on me baby," she whined. He was playing around and she was getting herself off on his huge fingers.

He didn't even have to directly touch her, she was wet with anticipation.

Rocking back and forth she rubbed her hardened clit against his fingers.

"Smoke- I- Daddy don't move," she cried out. Annie was sunken into the chair now, with her leg on the dash and one in his lap.

Rubbing her pussy through her saturated underwear. They were soaked. He wanted to be in her.

"Cum on Daddy's hand baby, get that nut," he grunted.

He was trying to focus on the road and on her. But if he didn't choose soon, they would crash.

"Oh baby, you bout to make me cum! I wanna cum on your dick baby," whimpering under his hand.

Yanking his hand away. He pulled into a, thankfully, vacant and dark parking lot.

Leaning over he ripped the panties off her body. Feeling how wet they were had his dick pressing up against his pants painfully.

He rubbed his fingers over her pussy. Spreading her juices all over. Groaning at how he was slipping all over her.

"Pussy so wet, cum on my hand," he was talking and walking her through it. She couldn't control the sounds coming out of her.

"K-k-keep fingering my pus- Daddy, you gon make me cu-" her breath caught at the back of her throat. Struggling to get the words out.

"Give it to me baby."

"Look at you beautiful."

"I love playing with you."

"Elijah- oh my fucking god! I'm cumming daddy," her body was convulsing. Feet clenched, finger nails digging into his arm, trying to steady herself and catch her breath while she came undone.

"Good girl. I got a surprise for you," he said.

He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pouch. In it held a lighter and a blunt.

"4!? YOU WANT ME TO SMOKE AGAIN?"

He had plans for her and this blunt.

"Get in the back."

She didn't ask any questions, she just did it.

He joined her in the backseat and pulled her into his lap. Their sex aligned. Her pussy lips planted directly onto his now exposed and hard dick.

Trying to focus on the task, he sparked it. Ghost inhaling. She put her lips to his as he exhaled. Slight movement of her waist. She was grinding on his dick slow. It was intoxicating.

Annie was wetting him up. Pussy leaking at the friction. His dick was dripping wet from her.

"Daddy please, just put the tip in me," she whispered.

He was still smoking, enjoying watching her try and get herself onto him.

Smoke grabbed himself, teasing her entrance with the head. She was tight, it was always a fight trying to get in her.

"Arch it up for me baby," he groaned.

Lifting her hips, he slipped right in. Both howling from the swift entry.

"Fuck," they both moaned.

Annie started riding him slow. Hands pinned to his chest. She felt like she was suspended in air. He was filling her up to the brim.

"Ride that dick baby," he kissed her neck. Sucking and licking deep into her spot. He placed his hand on the back of her neck to help guide her.

What was once and slow ride, turned rapid.

He was meeting her thrust for thrust. Pounding into her pussy from the bottom. She was squirting all over him, ruining his pants.

"You so deep in me, " she was floating. It feel like a deep hug, she could feel him from the top of her head, to the bottom of her feet.

"You sooo deep in me Smoke," she wailed. She lifted her body up, to get away from the overwhelming feeling at the bottom of her stomach.

"Sit on this fucking dick baby, let me put my nut in you," he demanded. Smoke grabbed her waist and yanked her back onto him, "Don't run from me."

She folding right into him, throwing her arms around him, clinging to his chest and his continued his assault on her pussy. She couldn't do nothing but take it.

Feeling like she was going to explode she clawed at the seats, the back of his head, his suit jacket. Trying to find something to grab.

"I'm bout to cum in you Mama, open that pussy up for me," he grunted.

"Elijah, I'm bout to cum all over your dick. You fuckin me so good. Keep fucking me just like that," she was begging.

Orgasm crashing over them both. Heavy panting. Foggy windows. Smoke in the air.

They stared into eachothers eyes, sharing a quiet moment between them.

And then,

"I should get you high more often."

the end.

yeah, i saw it and i took it. enjoy. thanks for the idea!!🩵 hope i did it some justice!

thanks for reading!!!

[moth2flamewriting]

Love Blues by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairings: Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie Moore (Sinners)

Warning(s): Mentions of Hoodoo, Explicit Sex, Supernatural Elements, Romance, Some Violence, Angst, Smoke's POV, Pre-Sinners movie.

Summary: Smoke Moore has returned from WWI with his twin brother Stack and meets Annie for the first time. Smitten immediately by the young Creole beauty, Smoke longs to make Annie his own. But he has to get past his brother and another rival suitor first.

Word Count: 2.6K

A.N.: Dedicated to all the Smoke x Annie fans, writers and readers!

"I love the way you love me

And I love the way you comb your hair

And I love the way you love me baby

Love the way you comb your hair

If it was left up to me babe

You would never get to go nowhere"

Keb Mo –"Love Blues"

Elijah "Smoke" Moore watched his momma Taiwo speak to the prettiest girl he'd ever laid eyes on, in and outside of Clarksdale.

Annie.

That was her name.

Annie Belizaire.

Her daddy was as tall and handsome as a tupelo tree with sepia brown skin burned red from the sugar plantations of Louisiana and the cotton fields of Mississippi. Her gorgeous mother held a dark umber complexion with thick pretty hair that she passed on to her daughter. Annie took her daddy's height and her mother's breathtaking beauty and stole his heart. Smoke's attraction to her crashed down on him like a thunderbolt. It lit him up in his seat as he perched on a church pew with his mother by his side.

Uncle Jed preached the good word from his pulpit inside the stifling hot church that rested on the crossroads between the cotton fields, the Sunflower River, and a dusty road leading into town.

Sweat dripped from Uncle Jed's brow as he praised the return of his twin nephews back into the Baptist fold, his preacher voice sliding up and down a scale of shrieks and moans that the congregation punctuated with their "Amens" and "Thank you, Jesus" praise shouts. The call and response reached a crescendo, bringing tears to his mother's eyes.

He and his brother had come home from war after three years. Their escape from the bloody German trenches still plagued him with nightmares. His hands had taken on an uncontrollable tremor and he became obsessive with watching his back around everyone. But he was alive and maintained all his body parts, unlike scores of men that were conscripted for WWI. Too many vets came back stateside missing limbs, eyes, and their sanity. Smoke and Stack were the lucky ones. Although he didn't have physical scars on his body, his mind sure carried psychological ones that prompted Smoke to stay overly cautious and ready for any signs of danger. Oddly, Stack didn't seem to harbor any outward signs of trauma from their army stint. The harrowing experience seemed to garner an opposite effect, feeding his twin a voracious lust for life that was infectious to others around him.

Uncle Jed had thanked Annie's father for repairing the church roof.

Mr. Belizaire stood, accepted the applause from the congregation, and his wife squeezed his hand. That's when Smoke glimpsed Annie. She wore her hair combed to the side and tucked in a bun at the nape that looked so different from the popular styles the young women fancied in the church. Her poise in sitting and the way her delicate eyes slanted gave her a charming appearance. He viewed more of her when his uncle asked her to stand as he thanked her for baking the sweet potato pies they would all partake in at the picnic after the service. Annie rose and nodded at the flock who praised her desserts in advance. She shared a winsome smile and her pretty white teeth gleamed like polished pearls. Even her eyes radiated warmth as they became cat-like in their tightness, reminding him of a kitten pleased with the taste of sugary cream.

His insides tumbled for her.

Her eyes flitted over to his side of the church, and they gazed at each other. He looked away first, not wanting to appear improper by lingering on her face longer than deemed appropriate. Especially in front of his uncle. She won him over in a heartbeat. When he glanced at his brother seated on the other side of their mother, Stack revealed an openly lascivious expression already.

He glanced at his twin again later, while standing outside the back of the church eating a piece of Annie's pie. Taiwo stood next to her behind the crowded food table, helping Mrs. Belizaire serve folks.

Stack approached their mother with some pep in his step and spoke to Annie first.

Smoke's heart sank.

Stack always moved on women fast, from their teen years working the cotton fields and chasing girls across sharecropping plantations, to catching them and testing their maturing sexual appetites as young men. Unlike his twin, Smoke acted gun shy when first going after the opposite sex. His taciturn nature and slower approach to courting cost him plenty of chances next to his fast-moving, smooth talking younger twin. Because of that, women Smoke may have been eyeing discreetly often thought he wasn't interested in them at all. When he did latch hold, those women fought tooth and nail to keep him. He actually broke more hearts than Stack over the years. With Stack, women knew not to take him seriously because he played around too much. He wrote checks of love that his ass could never cash. Stack the Lothario, and self-professed scoundrel, romanticized the idea of love; not its actual fulfillment.

Smoke was the clinging-onto kind of man.

Had the war and his father not fucked him up early in life, perhaps he could've become an easy-going playboy like his twin. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of floating through life full of whimsy and razor-sharp wit like Stack. He acted more like a protective father instead of a brother to his other half.

Smoke held his plate of food at the after-church pot luck social and watched his brother flirt and use a honey mouth to woo Annie. Their mother seemed close to the young woman and eager to introduce her to at least one of her sons. He sighed. Moving slowly cost him a chance to speak to her first. He knew Stack had ogled Annie's breasts and the way her light green Sunday dress clung to her burgeoning curves. Annie had slender arms and legs, but she was built like her momma overall, and Smoke knew that if he used his strapping physique to drop a few babies in her, that curvy figure would fill out more. Annie looked like the type of woman a man needed to marry up quick and build a family with. Smoke wanted to settle down and put the war behind him. Taiwo prayed for her sons to become respectable men to downplay their dead father's poor reputation. A reputation that stained the twins already.

Smoke eagerly yearned for a big family and a good wife to create it with. There were plenty of prospects in Clarksdale since he'd been back home. None rattled his heart the way Annie did on first look alone.

Annie's sloe-eyed gaze settled on Smoke's face. Stack kept talking to her, but she didn't break eye contact with Smoke. Uncle Jed pulled Stack away to introduce him to some men who worked on the Maybelle plantation. Taiwo gestured for Smoke to come over to the food table and he diverted his gaze elsewhere.

"Elijah…son, come over and meet Annie," Taiwo said.

His mother's gracious smile beamed like the sun baking the back of his neck, and he ambled over shyly, wiping his mouth to make sure no pie crumbs stuck to his lips or mustache.

"Annie, this is my oldest…my firstborn…Elijah."

"Hello, pleased to meet you, Elijah," Annie said.

Her smoky Creole accent delighted his ears, but her eyes…they were so dark and soulful, like she could see right through him and his attraction to her. His mouth turned dry, and he gulped down the vestiges of pie still in his throat.

"Hi…I'm Elijah."

"I know," Annie said.

"People call me Smoke."

"Why?"

Taiwo slipped away with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Momma, where you goin'?" he asked.

Panic surged through his voice. He wasn't expecting to speak to Annie alone already.

"I have to bring more refreshments," Taiwo said, winking at him.

He gripped his plate of food and looked at Annie. Her dreamy eyes and coquettish aura lulled him into a state of calm.

"Why people call you Smoke?" she asked.

She shifted her weight and put a hand on her hip. They were close in height. He wasn't accustomed to a woman looking at him directly eye-to-eye. He usually peered down at them.

"I fought a lot when I was younger…older. People said I'd never need a weapon in a fight. I brought all the smoke by myself. It kinda stuck."

"And your brother, Stack?"

"He likes money."

"You don't?"

Smoke lost focus, staring at her. Something about the intensity of the brown in her irises and the way the edges of her face blurred and brought her features into sharp focus reminded him of his grandmother Wo-Ma. His mother and grandmother were both Hoodoo practitioners and sometimes they had a way of keeping him grounded in front of them with their eyes alone. This was different.

The sun shined overhead, but glints of gold light like fireflies dancing floated around her head as if bright sun rays struck them directly. Her tone of voice had changed, too. It sounded probing and sure, challenging him to tell her only the truth of what his life was like in that moment.

Are you a man worth my time, Elijah?

He felt the question in his mind, not from her mouth.

"Brought you some fresh lemonade, Annie," Stack said, strolling over while carrying a big glass pitcher with a mason jar full of ice and yellow liquid.

"Thank you, Elias."

"Nobody but my momma and granny call me that. Stack is just fine, beautiful."

Annie accepted the glass.

"You met Smoke, I see. He ain't much of a talker."

"He talks enough," she said.

"Why don't you join me and some of my friends for a walk by the river? Get away from these old people and all this boring church talk," Stack suggested.

A group of childhood friends, two men and three women, waited over on the side of the church. Smoke recognized one of the burly men closest to him out of the group, Cornbread. The others were acquaintances of Smoke, but pals with Stack before the war. A fast bunch that liked to sneak sips of hooch and curse like sailors.

Stack tapped the pocket of his jacket. He already had a flask ready for the old gang.

Annie looked over at her mother who chatted with Smoke's Aunt Ruth, the first lady of the church. His seven-year-old cousin Sammie held Ruth's hand, kicking his church shoes in the dirt and watching other children run around screaming with rambunctious energy. A preacher's kid couldn't run around like a heathen, according to Uncle Jed.

"Maman, may I go with the others to the river and cool off?"

"Oui," Mrs. Belizaire said, returning to the food table with Ruth.

Taiwo returned carrying two pitchers of lemonade. She shooed them away with her apron, and Smoke followed behind Annie and Stack, greeting the others.

She liked Stack a lot.

Smoke noticed that right away.

She laughed at all his brother's jokes and playfully rolled her eyes when he teased her and the other women over silly things Smoke had no interest in.

He wished he could be as charismatic and relaxed as his twin. It just wasn't in him.

Being back in Clarksdale kept him in a constant state of hypervigilance. The Klan was hanging colored men in their military uniforms, so Smoke and Stack opted to wear the simple, yet still stylish brown suits they bought before coming home.

Well, the suits Stack picked out for them.

Smoke wasn't into style like his twin, so he deferred all fashion choices to the Clarksdale Black dandy. Stack could take the plainest looking shirt and trousers combo and turn them into upscale pieces by simply adding the right color tie, cuff links, finger ring accessories or even knitted scarves when paired with hats. The man had a knack for looking good, even when they worked in the fields as teens.

He got it from their grandfather, Papa Will, a half Black, half Mississippi Choctaw delta man with a soft spot for bright colors. He was a pretty man with a natural flair for looking good, especially with the colorful beadwork on some of his shirts and wide-brimmed hats. Papa Will used to wear a big shiny brass belt buckle with a turtle engraved on it. Smoke watched Stack show it off on his waist to Annie near the river.

She traced her finger around the turtle shell in a way that appeared suggestive to Smoke. He didn't think a woman should touch a man's belt unless she was helping him take it off.

She admired the buckle, then joined the women in throwing rocks into the river. They laughed when water splashed back on their dresses. The other women enjoyed her company. Viola, a nineteen-year-old who had a long-standing crush on Smoke, whispered something in her ear, and Annie shook her head playfully.

"You see that, nigga?" Stack chortled. "She didn't hesitate to touch my belt. I might have her in the old barn before the day is through."

"Watch how you talk. We're in mixed company," Smoke said.

"Aw man, that's just Viola, Florence, and Ida. Them heffas done heard it all."

"Try to show some respect. Annie's new around here."

"She been here long enough while we were gone. Momma is real tight with her…teaching her stuff. You think she's a virgin? She walks all proud and tall, and I can't tell if she lost her cherry yet. She old enough, though. Damn, she fine."

Stack twisted a toothpick between his upper teeth, then spit what he weeded out on the ground. His gaze stayed on Annie.

Smoke grit his teeth.

His brother's lust for women was no greater than his own. They were virile young men and walked around town like their nuts were too heavy to carry. He needed to ball just like Stack, but at least he tried to act chivalrous and have some restraint socializing with women.

"Why you got your face all twisted up for, Smoke? You already know that new pussy is the best pussy. She a lil prim and proper, but she's smart and funny, huh? When she gets to talkin' that Creole, I just wanna kiss her on the mouth."

Smoke chewed on the side of his cheek and reached for the flask in Stack's pocket.

"Yeah, that's what you need to loosen up. Why you so stiff all the time? All these pretty girls waking around…nigga, the Smokestack twins are back in action! We go get that bank loan, open up our juke…we'll be sitting pretty like some rich fat cats one day," Stack said.

Smoke unscrewed the cap on the flask and gulped down a huge sip of corn liquor. It burned down his throat and the immediate effects eased the tension in his shoulders.

Stack sauntered over to the women and shared the hooch with them and the men. Annie took a sip and clutched at her chest. She handed the flask back to Stack and gripped his hand to steady her balance. Stack laughed and guided her further down the path they all walked.

Smoke had to come to terms with the fact that his brother wanted Annie.

He'd have to step aside and let the situation play out. Cursing himself under his breath for missing out, Smoke gathered himself together and trailed behind the group downriver.

Part 2 Soon come....

A.N.: This will only have five parts based on my favorite Keb Mo blues song, "Love Blues". There are five verses, so I figure five short parts will get me through so I can get back to all the other fics I gotta finish and start. Enjoy! Please be sure to like/reblog/comment so we can get Black writer "Sinners" fics on the algorithm like all those other fics in the Sinners fandom that are decentering Blackness. You know which ones I'm talking about. Thank you!