#I will not exaggerate when I say gale saved my life because I was seriously considering ending it. and that's enough for me.

[aphroditefumes]

Michelangelo- Chapter I: The Wizard of Oz

A/N: Thank you guys soooo much for the positive feedback. I really appreciate all you guys!! And I apologize for such the long wait. Please forgive me! Enjoy!!!

                         “Todo, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”                                  -Dorothy Gale, Judy Garland, The Wizard of Oz

Location: Boys and Girls Club of Harlem, New York, NY Date: Saturday, February 23, 2020 Time: 2:13pm

Young men of deep sepia and enriched coffee-colored hues glistened with sweat gliding down the wide expense of their backs and chests.The swell of their calves along the longevity of their legs defined as they paced to and fro on the glossed court of the Boys and Girls Club of Harlem. Their pecs jumped with every move, their sneakers scuffed as they quickly blocked passes from the opposite team, lips occasionally embedded between their teeth as they remained focused, only to release to spew curses to the dumb decision of their fellow player.

“D, pass the fuckin’ ball!”

The tallest of the bunch, Brooklyn Wright, brows furrowed, his hands wide open in exaggeration to a distracted Deandre “D” Wilkerson, who’s main focus was on the swell and switch of Ansiedad Rojas hips as she entered the gym. His view extended down tightness of her denim clad legs until she found a seat next to her girls on the bleachers, as he was now able to see her light toffee face as she turned and sat down. Her finger twisted in her hair, dimples only faintly making an appearance.

She knew D was checking for her. Her on-again, off-again boyfriend or ‘playa on the team’ as she referred to him around the presence of her friends, amused her with his sudden interest in her after ignoring her calls and texts consecutively since their last interaction last week.  

“Yo, D, leave that girl alone, man,” Alijah Ford leaned against his arms resting on his knees, watching as his friend’s face contorted. He knew how D’s temper could be and knew that D was a man about action and saved talking until afterward, leaving all rationality behind.

“Fuck allat’.” D dismissed him darkly, his hand veins appearing as he squeezed the ball tighter in his grip. “Can’t answer her fuckin phone but can walk around with her ass all out? Nah, she got me all the way fucked up.”

Deandre found a wave of impulse wash over him from the top of his head into the clutches of his fingertips. The veins in his forehead and neck appeared blatantly against his sweaty dark skin, his jaw ticking from the constant clenching and unclenching.

The smirk on Ansiedad’s face never faltered as she always found her sex heating at the mere thought of Deandre getting angry. Whether through the actions of someone else or the actions of herself, mostly done through herself, Ansiedad’s fetish always ended with Deandre in some kind of trouble and herself laid an undone mess within his childhood bedroom. And with her high now heaving, eyes hard, trained on her and only her, she found it was the perfect time to intensify.

She waved seductively before laughing with her friends, biting her lips after their outburst of laughter. She blew a kiss from her glossy lips, somehow tearing her eyes away from D’s brooding figure and into the eyes of Kameron, who along with the other boys had taken attention to the scene in front of them.

Brooklyn furrowed his brows once again, “Fuck she lookin’ at me for?”

“Yeah, nigga,” D’s head snapped towards the boy he had known the longest, “Fuck she lookin’ at you fo’?” Deandre channeled his anger into a source as he walked slowly toward Brooklyn.

“Nigga that’s yo’ girl, ask her yourself!” Brooklyn exclaimed as he watched D move closer. The other boys started moving in as well, preparing to step in between if need be.

“Nah, nigga, I’m asking you.” D’s voice was as deadly as his grip was on the basketball he still possessed. Alijah stepped in front of his body before he could take another step and began to apply pressure to Deandre’s chest, who never faltered his sight on Brooklyn but began pushing Alijah back.“Fuck off me, AJ!”

“Fuck outta hea’, Nigga.” Brooklyn waved him off, not taking Deandre seriously, being used to the unorthodox anger and irrational behavior. Looking at the boys, you would’ve never guessed the two had known one another since the second grade. “I ain’t worried bout’ that girl and from where I’m standing, you don’t need to be either.”

Ansiedad sat with both of her forearms against the bleachers, her ample breast presented to a student that was familiar with in their senior class, Quentin Ward. Her Air Force 1’s rubbed against the smooth skin of his exposed leg in his basketball shorts as she seemingly purred at whatever the boy was spitting.

Suddenly, a flash of orange was sent through the air and toward the bleachers.

Deandre had unknowingly thrown the ball, it was as if his mind was not registering with his actions, the state of his head not safety executed into circumstances.

The ball flew through the air, causing the gathering of Quentin, Ansiedad, and her flock of ladies into a scattering frenzy. The open space then caused the ball to ricochet and bounce onto the unsuspecting nose of Tamara Montgomery. Her nose erupted with blood and her mouth let out a cry.

“Oh, shit.”

“Fuck is wrong witchu’, nigga?” Brooklyn exclaimed. He pushed into Deandre’s heaving chest before hastily jogging over to the crunched body of Tamara. Her book was held up to her face as she tried to hide from the embarrassment she felt at the moment.

“Ay, you aight?”

“I-I’m fine!” sputtered through the blood was the squeak-like reassurance of an flustered Tamara. It was going to take her forever to remove the blood from her fuzzy white sweater and even longer to remove this memory from her brain.

Brooklyn looked over his shoulder at the suspect at large who was currently in a heated argument with Quentin. Alijah once again stood in the middle of the two with now the addition of an instigating Ansiedad. Brooklyn shook his head, hands slightly gripping Tamara textbook, pulling down against her resisting hands to get a look at her nose. “Just let me see, mama.”

Not only was her crush in all his sweaty glory standing over her, his divine voice was calling her ‘mama’, the single most sexiest thing a man could call any woman in which he was dealing with. She definitely wasn’t removing the book now. The book wasn’t the only thing she was clutching for dear life, her thighs and her invisible pearls competed for the number one spot.

“Foreal, I’m good-

Tamara was cut of by the banging of the door from the conjoining training gym against the cemented walls. The loud noise echoed from the gymnasium, causing all noise to cease and all attention to turn towards the source.

He stepped in; Massive stature with sweat rippling down his glorious deep cedar skin, curly tendrils of chest hair glistening with seeming shiny over-glaze, shoulders pulled back and focused eyes like a black panther stalking down it’s prey. His towering height steadying his incredible 235 lbs of of mass and muscle, nostrils flared and thick lips producing breath stabling huffs from moments off the treadmill. Said nostrils exhaled smoke, his body not only oozing marijuana but radioactive Big Dick Energy. He lowered his eyes, zoning in on only one target. He face read that he was not to be fucked with. He was a man. And a mad one at that.

With his blunt rested between his thick digits and legs slowly moving ahead of him, the busying conversation resumed, now with his name on thier lips.

“Yo, Adonis coming!”

“What the fuck Donny want, man?”

“D done fucked up now.”

“D, I think the Don coming for you.”

Deandre, one of the only people who had not turned, too busy arguing with Quentin, felt his body go cold as he now felt the heat of huffs on the side his face. 

“Getcho’ ass out this nigga face and walk, witcho’ dumb ass.” Adonis spoke eerily calm, inhaling another puff of the exotic kush, Harlem accent deeper with the assistance of smoke.

“Shit.” Deandre cursed as he looked off to the side before he solemnly began walking into the direction of which most of the boys were huddled, looking at the interaction. D couldn’t even fully acknowledge his care nor concern of what he caused to Tamara because he was so upset. He always found himself not having control of his actions when it came to Ansiedad. “I ain’t even mean to hit her, Don-”

“I ain’t ask you to talk, nigga, I asked you to walk.” Adonis cut of D’s would be explanation, looking forward as they neared and now stood outside of huddle. “Get from round’ her, all you niggas.” His word was final as they all moved except Brooklyn who was still trying to get Tamara to remove the book. “You too, Brook.”

“Aight.” Brooklyn huffed as he moved and stood behind Adonis.

“Nigga, say what the fuck you gotta’ say.” The man brought the blunt back to his thick lips, inhaling deeply and exhaling in the opposite direction of the young girl.

Deandre scratched the back of his neck, “Look, I ain’t mean to hit you, I-

“But you did, nigga.” Adonis gained more anger and irritation by the second. “D, forreal, stop playing with me.” The man laughed humorously while he shook his head. “Say what the fuck you gotta say ‘fore I really whoop your ass.”

“T-that’s okay.” She pushes up her glasses. “He doesn’t need to apologize.” Her muffled voice sounded through the jacket she had now pressed against her nose. 

“Coo’. Let’s play.”

The man calmly handed his blunt to Brooklyn, uttering only a ‘you bet’ not smoke my shit either’ before he unexpectedly snatched the boy who he looked at as his little brother up by his jersey. Tamara was startled as she let out a little gasp, once again clutching her invisible damn pearls.

“I’ll Air yo shit out, boy. Keep playin’ wit me.” He gritted through his teeth. Tamara noticed how his dark skin dimensioned from the veins appearing through it. She bit her lip peeking through her glasses, feeling a heat rising between her thrifted jeans. “Say it fore’ I whoop yo ass, lil boy.”

“Aight.” D huffed, slightly embarrassed. He pulled away forcefully from Adonis’ grip. “I said: aight!”

“Watch yo’ muthafuckin’ tone.” Adonis spoke deeply. “And hurry the fuck up before I get mad.” He snatched back his blunt and leaned back on the heels of his Nike trainers, waiting for an unspoken apology. 

“My fault for hitting you, I ain’t mean to do that shit.” Deandre spoke, somewhat sincerely. “But I did and I’m sorry, foreal.”

“D!” Ansiedad called from her spot in the middle of the gym, angry that Deandre was apologizing to some girl like a bitch, in her opinion. Plus, he had calmed down.“Let’s go!”

“Thank you, and it's okay.” Tamara accepted his apology, keeping her focus on the bleachers.

Deandre stared at Tamara’s face for a few seconds longer before he turned and faced Adonis, waiting for approval almost, who straight-faced him and dismissed him with a single look in the opposite direction. “Imma’ catch up with you niggas later.” He turned towards a waiting Ansiedad.

“Dumbass, nigga.” Brooklyn muttered, taking the words right out of Adonis’ mouth. He made a reminder to specifically talk to D soon.

“Don’t een’ worry bout’ him. Worry bout’ takin’ babygirl go see Shay.” Adonis referred to the club’s residential nurse. “And make sure Shay give her a new pair of clothes, some without all this blood shit on it.”

“Bet.” Brooklyn slowly guided her up while Alijah grabbed her stuff, making sure to grab and conceal the detailed drawing of Brooklyn in Tamara’s notebook. 

Adonis shook his head watching the young kids walk away before pulling another hit of his blunt, disregarding the no smoking sign littered all throughout the building as usual. As he blew out the smoke, his breath was literally taken away as she entered the building.

Adonis’ deep eyes watched as her collard dress shirt rose even higher with the sexy switch of her wide hips as she walked timidly in her mid-calf boots. Her toned legs and thick thighs glistened with the glitter BonBon perfume she spritzed on herself this morning, awakening the senses of the young men who were watching her every move without shame. The woman pressed her Fentybomb glossed lips together, giving the boys a closed lipped smile before she began looking into the gym absentmindedly.

Adonis watched as her hands cramped behind her back as her curls tossed over her shoulders while she looked around the wide gym curiously, her heeled foot scratching the leather material of the other.

“Can I help you?” The woman was brought out of her wonder-stricken trance by the deep baritone that belonged to Adonis. She felt her breath leave her body as she assessed this gorgeous man in front of her very eyes. His black eyes pulled her in like an abyss that made her less embarrassed that she finally learned to swim at the age 19. And his beard- that Beard- it was combed and edged to perfection, simultaneously just begging to raked through with her acrylics. She felt her eyes disband, trying, but ultimately failing, not to immediately wander down the massiveness of his glistening eight pack that led to his gray sweats that exposed his deep V and happy trail. It was like his body and his face were both competing for her attention and right now, his beautiful face was losing.

She was knocked out of her trance quite literally when a ball hit the back of her Dior sweater causing her to stumble into Adonis, who quickly wrapped his arms around her waist.

“My fault!” A boy no older than twelve yelled from across the gym.

Adonis hiked up a brow, his eyes filled with amusement but face remaining static. “You aight,?” He asked, his accent as thick as his hands that slightly grazed her hips.

The woman quickly stabled herself back on her heels, gripping his massive biceps and giving a nervous smile. “Sorry. My mom swears I’m fall prone, or something.” She giggled. “I’m always falling all over the place.” She finally gained her stability and removed her hands completely from his warmed skin, taking a step back.

Adonis noticed her accent, heavily induced of a Beverly Hills Valley girl accented with slight high pitched slurs in her words. Her mannerisms reminded him of Cher from Clueless, his little sisters favorite movie.

“I was actually looking for the Chief Executive director. David, I think?” She looked up at nothing in particular. “I spoke with him on the phone earlier this week and he told me to go through the gym to get his office. I’m Sabella, by the way.”

“Nah, he left around 11 this mornin’.” Adonis stepped back and placed his hands in his basketball shorts pockets, getting a personal look at Sabella’s pretty face. “Somethin’ bout’ his wife.”

“Oh.” She let out softly, pouting as she toyed with her dangling Tiffany bracelet. Sabella went back to the conversation they had on the phone and his considerable amount of flirting he did.

“So do you think he’ll be here tomorrow?” She questioned adorably, shooting her head up. Adonis smiled within his hard demeanor at how adorable Sabella could be all the while being hands down one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen.

“Hmm?” She reiterated softy.

“He don’t work on Sundays.” He shook his head. “I ain’t gon’ front with you Miss, the nigga barely here. And when he is here, his ass just be sleep in his office.”

Sabella pouted once again. She had planned this meeting and finally felt she was getting somewhere within her new position at work, starting as junior editor at Mel Magazine Inc., the largest Black owned and black ran magazine corporation in the world. Her boss Melanie Howard, founder, CEO, and HBIC of the magazine gave the wide-eyed intern a job and a deadline to create an entry for the latest ‘Black and Bound’ segment, a segment about young black athletes living within compromising environments who were bound to go pro.

“Well, thank you anyways.” Sabella gave a soft smile, fixed her purse strap, and began walking away. Before she turned she could see from her peripheral vision of Adonis giving a curt nod before turning to walk away himself. Sabella decided, she was going to sulk tonight with a glass of chilled margarita mix and a binge session of POSE.

“Aye, Don!” Brooklyn announced as he jogged back into the gym. “Sammy gettin’ shorty right. Said it was just a nose bleed and that she’ll be aight.”

“Ion’ know, that girl looked about 5’6 to me.” Alijah added randomly as he soon joined the two.

Brooklyn raised his eyebrows as if waiting for Alijah to continue his statement. He dropped them when he realized that Alijah, of course, was finished. “And, nigga, the fuck?”

“You called her ‘shorty’ and she’s like the average height for a female her age.” Alijah shrugged as he pulled out his glasses from his pockets and placed them on his face.

Adonis and Brooklyn stared blankly within Alijah’s face, snickering before waving off AJ. “You one weird ass nigga.”

“And just who the fuck do you think you are?” Alijah asked as he picked up a rolling basketball, about to throw it back to the tweens across the gym.

Brooklyn snatched the ball from him, dribbling between his legs, crossing AJ and shooting the ball in the basket.“I’m Brooklyn Wright, nigga. Fuck you mean?” He smiled cockily as he threw the ball back to kids who stood in amazement.

“I got to get away from you little niggas.” Adonis stated bluntly.

Sabella stopped in her tracks, literally, smiling happily as she turned and basically ran to where the boys were standing. “You’re Brooklyn Wright?!” She smiled excitedly, clapping her hands. “Oh my god, you’re Brooklyn Wright!”

Brooklyn, confused but living for it all, flashed her a smile, stepping back to rub his hands along his jaw. “Yeah, I am that young nigga.”

“Hi, I’m Sabella Monroe-Ramirez with Mel Magazine.” She held out her hand. “Would you mind me asking you a few questions?”

Brooklyn let his eyes rake down her full figure as he savvily grabbed her hand. “Hell nah I don’t mind.” As she reached for her notebook, he got a peak at the wagon she was dragging. “Ask all the fuckin’ questions yo’ fine ass want.” He mumbled with his lip between his teeth.

Sabella giggled, the feeling of success taking over he ability to hear. She opened her mouth. “So how old were you when-”

“Nah, we not doing this shit.” Adonis spoke up, towering over both of them. He wasn’t with none of the exploitation of young boys and girls, especially young black boys and girls. “I know you know he only 17-

“Almost eighteen by the way.” Brooklyn interrupted as he smiled at Sabella before turning to the irritated face of Adonis. His smile dropped as he decided he didn't want none of the leftover smoke he had from Deandre. “Imma go over here.”

“Yes, but he's old enough to consent to questions.” Sabella answered where Adonis had left off. She was not about to let this opportunity go. “And as long as I’m not asking anything sexual or incriminating it’s fine-”

“Nah, it ain’t.” Adonis cut her off. “You makin’ a profit off his questions and he not, so no, it ain't fine.”

“I-I’m not making a direct profit-”

Adonis cut off the stuttering, once again not letting Sabella finish. “But it’s in your paycheck, right?” He shook his head knowingly at Sabella’s shocked face. Exactly. “Ion know where from but where you at is the hood. Don’t come around here with that shit.” He waved her off, pulling from the diminishing blunt. 

“You know for someone who looks like they don't like being cut off, you sure love doing it to me.” Sabella regained some dignity, remembering the pep talk she gave herself before she walked in the building.

Adonis couldn't help but laugh, choking on smoke slightly before standing up straight. Who’d she think she was fooling with her act?

“Look, you came here for David. The nigga ain't here so have a nice day before you not have a nice day.” Adonis really didn't want to be disrespectful to her pretty ass so he left before he had a chance. 

He turned, allowing Sabella to see the defining muscles of his back as he retreated back into the gym. 

_________________

“So that is how I turned in small business into a billion dollar corporation.” Julius Howard felt the weight lift from his shoulders after getting through with the story of how Mel Magazine came to be to a group of interns. He must’ve at least told the story a million times within the last two months due to how frequently his wife hired and fired the mostly new college graduates. 

The largest conference room on the 10th floor within the skyscraper located in the heart of Manhattan held the welcoming seminar, hosted, as always, by Julius Howard himself. He’d sit at the head of the large conference table and explained the in’s and out’s of the job. He felt the job was not fitting of someone of his position; Chief Operation Officer of Mel Magazine Inc, some editor could easily do the job. His word was nothing against his wife though so he complied. There, however, was one upside: Sabella.

He stared at her wide eyes as she looked at him from the end of the table. He could tell something was troubling her from the look on her face. He sought to ask as soon as the seminar was over. 

Now we’ll go over the structure-“

 “Why is this white jezabel even a consideration for the cover of next months issue?” The clear glass door banged against the wall as Melanie A. Howard herself busted in the conference room. The young occupies, jumped in both surprise and awe.

The room was filled with mostly interns had never officially met her and was hired through her assistant. Sabella took in the appearance of her classic houndstooth pantsuit and the Black Louboutin’s that she seemingly floated in throughout the office. For some reason, Melanie’s reputation and inevitable stance reminded her of her favorite character from her favorite show: Elecktra Abundance from Pose. They possessed the same level of mother she she inspired to be. 

A man sat at the head of the table, unfazed by his wife’s unruly actions as over the 19 years he had grown used to them. His hands fingered his beard as he tested the waters. She wouldn’t act too(bold) crazy in the presence of others- he wanted to see

“Melanie, as you can see: I’m busy. We can talk about this lat-

“I don’t give a damn about you being busy, you’re on my time! And we’ll talk about this now.” Melanie has crazy eyes that said ‘Don’t play with me.’ She often thinks her husband loses his rabbit-ass mind and constantly finds herself giving it back to him along with a piece of hers. 

“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your lil’ girlfriend so bring ya’ ass.” She was every bit of Harlem as stared down her husband as he embarrassingly rose from his padded roller chair. She stared pass him into the staring eyes of Sabella.

“You.” She pointed. Melanie pushed passed a hurrying Julius, stepping into the room fully.

“Have you got the questions on Brooklyn Wright?”

“I-I um-“ Sabella panicked with all of the eyes on her. She began to feel her anxiety creep up the back of her neck as she struggled to respond.

“I-I-I B-b-b uh- Now you can’t speak English?” Melanie sickeningly mocked Sabella as she now stood over her.

“Melanie” Julius warned from his vicinity at the door.

“If you don’t have answers by the end of the week consider yourself jobless, Radio. Understand?”

Sabella looked through her lashes, her eyes glossed over with unkept anxiety. Her tongue grazed her teeth before she gave a small, closed-lipped smile, swallowing back sitting saliva and tears. “Of course, Mrs.Howard. “ She forced out. “I’ll get right on it.”

Melanie inspected her closer, shifting in her Louboutin’s as her eyes raked over Sabella’s sitting figure. She smirked, she could practically bottle up the fear and sell it with all of it coming from Sabella. And besides her making a hypothetical profit, she also made a logical observation; the doe eyes, the lip bitting, the hair tossed over the shoulder. She could see why the little hottie with a body held the attention of her husband. Sabella was like the many women that her husband had personal ‘meetings’ with, the women who no longer worked at the Magazine and would never work at another. But she was different; rare. Anyone could notice.

Melanie didn’t like it.

And she vowed to get her husband not to like it either.

_________________________________

Sabella sat, shoveling a spoon of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food into her mouth as she watched the now Elektra Evangalista read the House of Ferocity to filth. She chewed on a chocolate chunk before swallowing and bringing a handful of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles into her mouth. A curl that escaped her messy ponytail fell in line of her vision from the shaking of her head from the secondhand embarrassment she was feeling through the screen of her MacbookPro.

“House of Ferocity? You two are about as fierce as my morning cornflakes.”

The background and fill-in actors of Sabella’s most watched addiction Pose instigated the flawless read as they ooed and further pressed the unexpected slayage. “Dang, Elektra. You didn’t have to do them like that.” Sabella couldn’t believe that a character that she instantly hated from the first few seconds of the series was now the level of mother she strived to be by the last few minutes of the first season. After coming home, Sabella committed to her vow of bundling up with Netflix and carb-loaded snacks. She hoped to recover emotionally and physically from the smack in the face she’d felt from the day she had.

“Sabiii!” A high pitched voice sang throughout Sabella's studio apartment. She pouted from the intrusion and paused her screen. She could hear heels clacking against her marble flooring coming closer to the vicinity of her bedroom and immediately let her know who the intruder was.

“Why are you still in bed?” Her door was suddenly opened and the snatched silhouette that belonged to the one and only Cream Karrington obtained her view. “And why aren’t you dressed?” She exaggerated as she felt for the light switch and turned it on. “Come on, Sabella, you promised! You are not bailing on me now!” Cream jutted out one of her wide hips and looked at Sabella through slitted eyes.

Sabella’s eyes got used to the bright light as she squinted and brought another spoonful of ice cream to her lips. Cream scoffed in disgust as a little bit dribbled from her mouth and onto her chin. She swallowed and whipped it away with the sleeve of a thrown oversized sweatshirt before speaking.

“I’m not bailing. I’ve just….” She signed. “I’ve just had a really bad day, C. You won’t believe what happened today-

“Right, a bad day.” Cream condescendingly nodded, cutting off Sabella. “So you have a bad day, completely bail on me when I need you most and

“Cre-

“No, no, no, I’m not finished.” Cream narrowed her eyes and stalked closer to her. “Sorry to break it to you, Sabella, but you’re an adult. So if you think that I’m going to sit here and listen to how bad your day was, then you're wrong. I don’t care how bad your day was.” Cream began sautering around the room, her heels being the only thing heard for a while.

“And you know, you’re not in Oz anymore, Dorothy.” She continued as she found herself near the door, referring to Calabasas. “You don’t get to walk around and pretend you don’t know how anything works, not anymore. This is New York.” She faced Sabella, finding satisfaction in the drop of Sabella’s face. “People don’t give a shit about your shitty day, princess.”

Sabella sat unmoving as the echo from Cream’s heels went further and further, only moving to jump from the slamming of her front door. She didn’t understand, Cream was simply going to get a consultation for her BBL. Sabella didn’t understand why she made such a big deal out of it, seeing as though it will be her second one. But, she was used to Cream’s famous harsh words and the storm outs that soon followed as she had known her since she was 7 years old. She would forgive Sabella soon enough after finding something else for Sabella to be there for.

Still, Sabella decided to finish up the season before meeting Cream at M.D Cosmetics and hope to make things up to Cream. She couldn’t stand Cream being mad at her.

Before she could press the tab on the computer, Sabella was once again kept from the flawless reads as a bang assaulted her door and echoed through her apartment. She could feel the vibrations from beneath her feet as she hopped up from her position.

“What the..” Sabella questioned herself as she neared the now rattling door from her hallway. She assessed her surroundings and found her sights on the pastel pink key on her entry way table, connecting that Cream must of forgot her key or one final read of her own.

“This girl.” She muttered as she grabbed her key on the way to the door. Sabella expected to find the tapping Christian Louboutin foot of a waiting Cream but found Burberry dress shoes instead. She looked up into the eyes of the man that towered her, pausing at how good he looked. “What are you doing here, Christian?”

Christian smiled, flashing his perfectly straight teeth. He began walking slowly into the apartment. “No hello, princess?” He neared closer.

“No, Christian.” Sabella stated sternly, her hands weakly pushing his away from her ass. “No ‘hello’, only goodbye. Now, Get out.” She stood firmly with her hands across her ample chest.

“First of all,” Christian gritted as he slammed her body against the adjacent wall with a tight grip on her neck. “Take all that fuckin’ base outta’ ya’ voice.” He licked his lips at the sight of her immediate submissiveness. “Second of all, who the fuck you think you kicking out? I pay the bills in this mothafucka’”

Sabella’s eyes closed, feeling of an euphoric state from a man that was once her’s reinstating his dominance. “I’m sorry, daddy.” She stated softly, pushing away the internalized self-disappointment she felt within. She felt herself melting not only at the state of her current being, but at the feeling of his tongue now suckling her jaw. He moved down her neck, placing wet kisses on her juggler, moving his hand from her neck to her ponytail, yanking it as he stared deep within her eyes. “You better be fuckin’ sorry.”

His hands caressed her plump bottom before hooking his arm beneath and hoisting her up, already knowing the way to her room.

“You about to be real fuckin’ sorry.” He mumbled deeply, and out of breath as he entered her bedroom, dropping her on her comforter. Sabella leaned on her forearms and watched as he rushingly rid himself of Balmain dress pants and boxers, stumbling slightly before pouncing on her small body. His hands and mouth went to work, kneading one of her now exposed breast while his tongue circled around one of her erect nipples.

Sabella moaned as he moved from one to the other, cradling his head as he moved back and forth before lifting his head and finally bringing their lips together. She could feel it behind her lids, the power of her messy kiss bringing tears to her eyes. She held on tighter, her arms completely circling his neck, knowing this moment would be over as soon as it had begun. She grinded on his large shaft, pulling a grunt from him. “I’ve missed you” She whispered against his lips, out of breath as he once was, connecting them again once her statement was finished.

As their tongues overlapped for silly dominance, Christian began shimmying down her spandex of her leggings down her thick thighs, stopping once there was an opening big enough for him to stick his large hands into. His thumb swiped her wetness through the soaked material. “You still get wet for daddy.” He stated before completely removing himself from her and the bed. Sabella physically shivered from the disconnect, longing for his much missed touch. She whined.

“Calm down!” Christian barked, completely quieting Sabella. He rummaged through his pants pockets, pulling out a gold wrapper before walking over and yanking Sabella leg until her ass was hanging off of the bed. He ripped open the wrapper with his teeth, maintaining eye contact with Sabella, and slowly rolled it on to his dick. “Ignoring my call n’shit” Christian spoke lowly, pulling the leggings and her thong all the way off. “Now, look at you. Feening for this dick.”

Sabella laid completely exposed. The cool air of her apartment wafted against her exposed clit and nipples causing her to absentmindedly arch her back against the sheets.

Christian smiled devilishly, “Yeah, that’s what I like.” His hand grabbed her waist while the other aligned his member to her slick opening and slowly moved in. He waited, her warmness completely surrounding him, reminding of old times along with her angelic moaning, before slamming into her.

Once again, Sabella found herself succumbing to her ex-fiancee and future brother-in-law, gasping as he fucked into her, fully submitted.

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Hope you guys enjoyed this. Please let me know what you think and if you’d like to get added to my taglist!!!

@l-auteuse​ @artienauq (P.s sorry for making yall wait!)