0 comments/ 38926 views/ 13 favorites Homecoming: The Hit Man & His Woman Ch. 01 By: urbanlove Part 1- Returning Home to Hit It Raw She faintly felt the expensive silk sheet being whipped away from her naked form. Her eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the darkness of her spacious bedroom. The clock promised several hours before sunrise. She knew he had come home to her. He stood by the side of their plush bed, looming over his beautiful woman. His gaze traveled over her sexy body, from her petite shoulders to her small, French-manicured feet. Moonlight kissed every curve of her shapely legs, her round ass, and her ample breasts. He watched her shift from her side onto her back, showcasing her tight, little waist and exposing a neat line of well-trimmed pussy hair. He smiled inwardly. Despite the inconsistency of his departures and varying lengths of his travels, his woman always anticipated his return and kept herself maintained at all times. "Azela, I brought you something." He sat at the edge of the bed and held up a long, shiny rope of diamonds set in platinum. A tingle shot down her back, not because of his extravagant gift but at the sound of her name coming from his mouth. His voice was deep and smooth, suggestive and seducing. Azela watched the light reflect off the jewelry that dangled from his massive dark hand and bounce off his bare muscular chest, his rippled stomach, his incredible arms. She had almost forgotten how built her man was, how delicious his chocolate skin appeared. "It's beautiful, baby..." she murmured, a smile playing across her full lips. He always brought her something. Something expensive. Something to show her his hard work without revealing his work. Not that he was secretive or withholding by nature, you see. Even though, yes, he kept many secrets and withheld a lot of information, his discretion was not only necessary in his dealings, but also imperative to her safety. His generous offerings were for her protection too; in case one of his homecomings was cut short. He wasn't going to let his woman struggle on the streets. Azela wanted to jump up and grab him. Hold him. Cover him with open mouth kisses. But she knew his hate for sudden movements and his violent reaction to bursts of passion that were not caused by the control of his dick. She knew how this process worked. She knew how he liked his homecomings to go; how he needed them to move slowly and deliberately. It took time for him to reacclimatize himself to the gentle flow of a loving woman after spending days, sometimes weeks, accustomed to conscienceless, calculating men, their force, their senseless aggression. "I miss you..." she whispered. "Where do you miss me?" His eyes were cast down, relishing her bare skin. He ran the necklace across her belly. The cool metal stimulated her skin. He saw her nipples harden, her stomach muscles tighten slightly. She pulled her knees up; the cord of jewels parted them. He watched her open herself to him. He ran the string of diamonds up and down her warm slit. He sometimes liked to think those thighs separated for the diamonds. This was untrue, he knew. But it was these times, the times he pretended his woman was a whore (his whore), that excited him the most when he first came home. It always required him a few fucks before he was reminded of how much he loved making love. She knew this too, which is why she spread her legs wider and pushed her pelvis toward him. "I miss you...here. Up inside of me." She felt his middle finger push into her. He pulled it out again. In again. Out again. In again, but this time his finger was draped in platinum and diamonds. He pushed the metals into her pussy. He finger-fucked her slowly with the jewels. "It misses you...do you miss it, Dontrell?" she breathed between moans. The sound of his name snapped his attention away from her platinum and diamond filled pussy. Their eyes locked. Dontrell felt his aroused dick hardening to its full length and thickness. It caused a bulging at the crotch of his jeans. Azela noticed and lightly massaged the bulge with her small foot. A flame of sexual excitement burst deep inside her gut. She longed for his long, fat dick. She wanted to hear his approving grunts as he pounded her pussy fiercely. She wanted to please her man with her body. "Hell yeah, I miss it. Miss somethin' else too." Dontrell stood up suddenly, slightly scaring Azela, the diamonds falling in a heap on her center. He angrily unbuckled his belt and pulled his nine-inch black cock from his jeans. Precum quickly built up on the tip. He smoothly swooped his hand down behind her neck, forcefully pulled her to an upright position, guided her head to his crotch, and ordered quietly: "Suck my dick, Bitch." She wasn't offended by his coarse words. She knew this was how his work made him. She knew he would eventually soften; his heart as well as his dick. She obediently opened her lips and accepted his huge package. It nearly gagged her at first, but she moderated her sucking and let it sink deeper and deeper into her throat. She savored the familiar taste of him; she was reminded of how much she enjoyed having her man's dick in her mouth. Dontrell stared at her bobbing head. He watched his cock disappear into then reappear from her warm, wet mouth. He admired her beautiful facial features; her small nose, alluring almond-shaped green eyes, her pouty lips presently servicing his shaft. He kept his left hand firmly planted on the back of her head. He sometimes clenched his hand, taking a fistful of her long, dark, chestnut-colored hair and tugging it slightly as she sucked him off. His right hand caressed her perky tits, which appreciated the attention and showed this by turning the nipples into hard little knobs for him. "Don't forget, Girl, to eat my balls too," he muttered, his head tilted to the ceiling, eyes pinched closed. Azela devoured them. She closed her lips around his sack and rolled his balls around in her mouth. She licked them hungrily and greedily sucked on his sack. The low appreciative sounds he made kept her from demanding something in return. By now, her pussy was soaking wet and literally aching for dick. She slid his penis back into her mouth and heard him emit a louder grunt. "Fuck, that feels so good..." he mumbled, as he started thrusting his hips into her face faster and with more force. He held her head with both hands and felt the tip of his dick hit the back of her throat over and over. He glanced down and saw her seductive eyes staring at him as she deep-throated his cock. He held her gaze for several minutes as his excitement climbed to its ultimate peak. Right before he unloaded himself, he tore his eyes away and pushed his dick as far into her throat as possible. He looked down at her face, eyes now closed, in time to see her swallow the cum he was forcing down her throat. "Yeah..." he whispered. "That's it... swallow it. Swallow it. " Azela polished off his dick and licked it clean. The hardness of it waned only slightly. Within minutes, it was back at its full strength. She gazed up at him, as he was still standing in front of her, letting his emotions calm down. Each time he climaxed, he simultaneously wanted to thrust aside and embrace the woman who brought him there. He felt like he hated her for making him lose control over himself, but he loved her for the pleasure she delivered. Sometimes he wanted to slap her across her dick-sucking face for being such a slut, but at the same time, he wanted to lovingly tongue-kiss the mouth he just came in. This time, Dontrell chose the second route. He looked down into her curious eyes, her innocent face just recently contorted by having to host his massive cock, her gorgeous body that still remained un-dicked. Dontrell leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. She pulled his handsome face to her and kissed him deeply. As she brushed her lips over his cheeks and forehead, he reached down to where the diamond necklace was trapped between her thighs. Parting her knees, Dontrell picked up the temporarily forgotten jewelry. He undid the clasp and fastened the platinum chain around his woman's neck. She looked beautiful wearing nothing but $50,000 worth of glittering diamonds; far more beautiful than he imagined when he purchased the jewelry. All cash. He pulled her to her feet and embraced her tightly. He held her small form against his large frame, their bodies fitting neatly against one another. Her skin was so smooth and supple. Sometimes he wondered to himself how he got her; how he kept her. Secretly, he feared the day she realized his evil and walked out. They were different elements. She water; he fire. Her smile alone could revive the sick, while his hands ended men's lives. She was tender and sensitive. Giving to everyone. With most people, he simply took. He was destructive and angry. So much anger. She was a soft angel and he was a cold dude. I guess it's as simple as that. Dontrell slipped a hand between her warm thighs. Her center was wet and inviting. He recognized impatience in her moan as he rubbed her clit. "Turn around." He nearly came watching her push her ass into the air, as she positioned herself on her hands and knees on their bed. She opened her center, exposing her two tight holes that she expected to be stretched before daybreak. "Fuck me." Her command came out more as a plead, a request really. Pulling up behind her, Dontrell slapped the top of her ass, then grabbed his dick and pressed the fat head against her pussy opening. He hadn't felt her pussy, any pussy, for almost two weeks. Two weeks too long. He wanted it raw. He always did. When it came to her, he never hit it with a rubber. Her pussy was his glove. Even though he had ample opportunity to fuck other women, he never did. He knew that she might doubt his loyalty because he almost never commented on it. But, truth is, he would never put her health into question. And he would never contaminate her pussy. His pussy. The first time they went to fuck, Azela protested intently about him not wanting to use a condom. Dontrell thought back to how she looked at him, laying flat on her back, legs splayed open, her hand covering her soaking pussy, insisting on "protection." He remembered how he held her gaze as he snatched her hand away and sunk his dick roughly (and rawly) into her. Her eyes went from a look of intensity, to surprise, to disbelief, and finally to delirium as he pounded her pussy relentlessly. Later, as she was recovering from her first orgasm, he held her tight against his chest and he revealed to her in a whisper his reasons for raw sex: "My only one." Presently, Dontrell was slowly pushing into her tight hole as she arched her back so that he could penetrate even more deeply. She moaned loudly at the intrusion. Her breathing quickened as his dick stretched open the walls of her pussy. She felt herself growing wetter and hotter. Her abdomen continued to crave his thrusts. Taking hold of the sides of her voluptuous hips, he began pulling and pushing her body from himself. "Take the dick, take the dick" he murmured over and over to her. His cock yearned for the tightness and wetness of her pussy with each plunge. Fucking her raw from the back gave him the ultimate satisfaction. He watched his naked black head cut into her folds of golden flesh. She bucked forward each time he thrust inward. "Take it." He leaned more weight on her and reamed her pussy deeply and roughly. He yanked her head back by her hair and kissed the side of her neck and face. "Whose is it?" Her voice shaked in pain between each pleasurable thrust. She whimpered that her pussy was his. "Yours...yours... yours," she whispered at each incoming force of his dick. Dontrell slapped her ass many more times, making her cry out in pleasure as he set her backside on fire with every contact of his hand on her skin. She could tell he was close to climaxing when he stroked faster and his groans sounded uncontrolled. He had no choice but to finish her up before shooting his semen deep into her womb. She screamed as he ferociously fucked her into senselessness. She didn't even feel him smash his cock against her cervix and fill her pussy with his seed. He gave a few last pumps, emptying his dick completely inside of her. He slowly pulled out of her nearly unconscious form. She was as limp as a rag doll. Laying face down on their bed, she felt her breathing returning to normal, her heart beat slowing. She kept her eyes closed because it felt as though it required too much energy to open them. He collapsed on the bed next to her. Face up, he savored the after effects of his orgasm. For almost twenty minutes, they laid there, side by side, silent, but speaking the same feeling: relief. She was grateful to have him home; her man fucking her, protecting her, loving her. He was eased by her compassion, her truth. With her, he released himself not only physically and sexually, but psychologically from the wickedness and deceit he was so often surrounded by. His whole body was relaxing, loosening, giving away to her. Dontrell pulled her to him. He kissed her forehead, her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids. He reached down and caressed her swollen pussy. His cum dribbled out slowly. He secretly hoped for conception. She wouldn't ever leave him then. Although he never professed his longing for a child during their regular conversations, sometimes during sex he demanded a baby. As if contingent on her sole authority, he'd whisper while thrusting into her, "Give me a child... give me a child..." When Azela outwardly voiced her concerns about pregnancy, he decided that, in the event that she carried their baby, she would have it. "You'll bear my child." End of story. She kind of figured that he wanted to impregnate her eventually. Early on, he revealed his contempt for her control over their procreation, or lack thereof. One past afternoon, he had walked stiffly into their living room and tossed her pill case on the coffee table. She glanced away from the television to her oral contraception. "It's birth control," she remarked. "I know," he said quietly, right before he grabbed her up harshly and spun her around. "What are you doing? What's wrong?" Azela cried in alarm as she felt him reach around her, unzip her jeans, and pull them down over her butt. He pushed her over the side of the couch, tore her panties aside, and entered her roughly from the back. At first her pussy was fairly dry and hard to fuck. But his dominance over her body never failed to awaken the submissive slut inside her. He pumped her sopping cunt for half an hour before he spewed his cum into her canal. Neither said a word until he heaved himself off of her and gave her ass a light upward slap. "Don't take that shit anymore." Later that night, he had gently made love to her missionary and held his dick inside her for ten minutes after filling her pussy with his seed. Tears rolled down the side of her head as she lay trapped under him and his sweet words, promising his love, his need, for her. She hadn't been on the pill since. Now, she felt his large fingers, lubricated with their juices, penetrating her engorged center. She knew he wished his cum would stay inside her and only come out once it had succeeded in making a child. "So good, 'Trel..." she murmured quietly. He peered at the shining rope around her neck, at her breasts that were pressed against his side. He continued to finger her and kiss her forehead as she fell asleep. Homecoming: The Hit Man & His Woman Ch. 02 Dontrell carried the tray of food to their room and set it on the dresser. Her plate was piled high with scrambled eggs, several strips of bacon, small warm blueberry muffins, and, of course, grits on the side. He knew she'd be starving, if she would ever wake up. Azela slumbered peacefully in their luxurious bed. She had no idea that her man had decided to bring breakfast to her in bed. She also had yet to find out how sore her body was from the stern fucking he had given her the night before. As if sensing her body's tenderness, Dontrell eased it the only way he knew how: with his mouth. Slipping into the covers, he moved down the length of his naked girl, and took his breakfast between her legs. Spreading her thighs gently, he placed his mouth on her pearl and massaged it with his tongue. Azela stirred immediately and opened her eyes with a mixed look of confusion and delight dancing across her sleepy face. She peered down at his handsome face pressed into her warm center. She saw and felt his wide tongue lapping at her, his big lips kissing her folds, his white teeth nibbling on her. Pleasure washed away the slight pain her pussy retained from the reaming it received a few hours earlier. The head he gave her actually made her crave more stiff cock. She wanted to be fucked again. The sensation was overwhelming and she moaned loudly as he penetrated her with his tongue, his finger, then finally his dick. He realized her pussy must have been swollen on the inside too because it was harder to cut into than usual. He leaned on his hand, halfway over her, and took the wide head of his cock and struggled to push it into her tight hole. She cried out as it popped past the entrance. Once in, he slid it slowly deeper into her and crushed the tip at the top of her cunt. She groaned loudly as his hard rod pierced her bruised cervix. Wetness gushed from inside her. The pain was the good kind, the kind that made her want more to be inflicted upon her. He slid his huge knob all the way out and back in again. As he loomed over her small body, he watched her intently while sexing her. She lay flat on her back, grabbing for him, trying to pull his arched body down to hers, trying to close the distance between their bellies. He messed up her grip on him each time he thrust forward. He moved himself in and out a little faster, still gentle, trying to control the urge to fuck her brains out. He really tried to give it to her sweetly, but her response drove him over the edge. Azela unleashed his need for rough sex with her quiet commands. "Ohh…god, oh 'Trel, oh…harder…hit it, hit it," she moaned. "Take it." He straightened up, pulling her wide-open center to his hips. He violently pulled and pushed her hot pussy from himself, partially forgetting that a woman was attached. Then he took her ankles and pushed them far back behind her, making her pussy completely vulnerable to however he was going to treat it. Leaning his weight on her, he repeatedly slammed his cock into her. "This what you want… huh… this what you need?" He muttered through gritted teeth. She cried "yes" to all his questions and felt herself close to orgasm. Her body shook uncontrollably and spasms flowed through her uterus. As her intense pleasure subsided, she felt his urgent thrusts signaling his approaching climax. "Feed me," she breathed, smiling coyly up at his concentrated expression. She parted her lips. Just the thought of sinking his pussy-covered cock into her mouth and unloading, sent his cum hurling towards the head. He leapt out of her and shoved his wet dick into her waiting mouth that was so eager it met him halfway. She took the whole nine-inch pole down her throat and gulped his sticky fluid. His woman didn't waste a drop. Azela sucked his softening dick for a couple minutes as he caught his breath. His hand was still at the back of her head, lightly massaging the scalp. He looked down at her content face; her eyes closed pleasantly, her mouth full of dick and balls. She made such dirty things look angelic. "You still hungry?" He smirked at her nodding head. "Look what your boy made you." He pulled his cock from her lips and got off the bed to show her what he had prepared. "I'll warm it up." Before he left the room, he kissed her mouth, each breast, her stomach. He tongue kissed her kitty a couple times and gave her ass a hard smack. It jiggled sexily. One more kiss on the lips and he headed for the kitchen, tray in hand. Azela watched his firm, muscular ass as he left the room. Her pussy felt so good. She leaned back in the pillows, touching herself absentmindedly, smiling to herself. She was so happy he was home. Her hand fluttered to the jewels around her neck. How long before he left her again? She remembered one time when she gave up that he would ever return. He had been gone for six weeks. Only two letters in the first three weeks. No calls. There were never any calls. His letters always described the same things: his love for her, how much he missed her, what he had bought for her, the nasty things he wanted to do to her, asking if she loved him and how much (even though he knew she couldn't write him back and tell him these things), he'd ask her to run small errands, visit his mother, abstain from using her vibrator as much as possible so that she was nice and tight for him when he returned. He never talked about his surroundings, the people, his activities, where he stayed, and especially, what he did. His letters never carried any postage. They were always hand-delivered by one of his guys. One of the guys he had watch over her, she assumed. That time he was gone six weeks, Azela cried almost every night after the first month passed. She was sure he was detained, dead, or worse: with someone else. She tried to carry on as normal. She invited her parents over, excusing Dontrell's absence due to "business." (Not a lie in the least. He did take care of business, just not the type that Azela's folks believed her daughter's attorney boyfriend handled. Maybe not law, Dontrell reasoned, but he dealt with justice no doubt.) As soon as they left, she was filled with loneliness again. She tried to study her real estate books but only ended up sleeping in his shirts and writing him letters she could never send. They didn't go to waste though. When he returned, he would read and re-read her letters the times she was away at her real estate class or doing pilates at the gym. The love that poured from her letters secured him. The ones she wrote him when she was desperate made him hard. Baby, I miss you so much. I miss everything… your voice, your kisses, your sexy body, your manhood. Come back and love me. If you would only come back, I'd do anything you wanted. ANYTHING. I'd take your penis in every place I have. Even…back THERE. ~giggle~ I'll swallow your juice, just like you want me to. You can let go inside me. If I get pregnant, I promise I'll give you a healthy child. Just come home. An hour after he had read that, she came home from exercising in her sexy tight aerobic pants and stretchy tank top. He couldn't keep his hands off her as she made her way to the shower. "Why are you so excited?" She laughed and peeled off her clothes, revealing her tight little body. Her tanned olive skin glowed from the workout. "I want you." His black hands rubbed her soft tits and ass; her pussy started getting aroused. "You love me?" His chin rose suspiciously with the question. "Of course!" Azela's tinkling laugh hardened his dick even more. "Let's take a shower. Take your clothes off." She squeezed the lump at the front of his jeans, then stepped into the shower and turned on the spray. He watched water slide down her body as he dropped his pants and pulled off his shirt. He stepped into the shower behind her and began running his hands over her breasts and between her legs. "Bend over," he whispered in her ear. She did. He plunged into her from behind and took his fill. Water made her ass slip against his hips. His balls wetly slapped her pussy lips. He dug into her deeply and firmly. She came violently. Still gasping for air and her hair hanging wet and limp around the sides of her face, Azela felt him jerk his dick out of her cunt and press the fat head into her ass. He filled her butt with cum. "You're gunna love this, girl." Dontrell's reappearance in their room snapped her out of the memory. He carried their meal to the bed. They ate heartily while talking and half watching music videos. They laughed and poked fun at each other, play pushing and kissing between bites. Anyone watching might be misled into assuming the normalcy of their situation. In many ways, they were normal. What's normal anyway, right? Each time they reunited, even after long spans of time, they carried on as if they never missed a step. They were forever first loves that never seemed to fall out of love. True love. If anyone's love had ever been real, it was theirs. Oh yes, their love was true. In all the years they had known each other, Dontrell only failed his woman once. This was back at their old pad, less comfortable, more vulnerable to identification. He knew he had fucked up, let the target escape. He didn't expect that Azela would have to compensate for his error. But she did. And she paid with her pussy. The wire that nearly strangled him to death kicked off his homecoming on that particular evening. No sooner had he walked in and he was attacked, in the dark, by his employer. His employer and a helper, of course. The helper gagged him into compliance and led him to the bedroom. Dontrell nearly killed himself by lunging forward when he saw his girl crying incessantly, dressed in negligee, backed into the corner of their room. A gun was pointed squarely at her. Boss expressed his disappointment with the job, complained about the harassment, the monetary losses, the lashings to his reputation. He had planned on holding Dontrell liable, that is, until he laid eyes on the angel he now held at gunpoint. Several real tears slid out of Dontrell's eyes as he watched her drop her sexy nighty and step out of her satin panties. He knew she was doing this because she feared they'd kill him and felt she had no other choice. He knew she thought surrendering her body was honorable when it was for the sake of her man's life. Even so, he wished they had let him die, rather than make him watch the raping of his girl and being without the power to save her. She cried silently as Boss took his time fondling her breasts, kissing her neck, and poking his fingers in her holes. He violated her in three positions, lasting over an hour total. At first he pulled her ass to the edge of the bed and fucked her slowly, while she laid on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Then he took her from the back, making her respond yes when he called her 'whore.' Lastly, she rode him and had to endure him kissing her lips, looking her in the eyes. He unloaded on her face, the cum sticking to her dried tear stains. As slimy as he was, Boss was a man of his word. Dontrell's "debt" had been paid. The lovers got to live. Even so, they declined attending his funeral three weeks later. Boss's body was unexpectedly found by LAPD searching for an 18-pound stash of cocaine. His body was mangled. Stabbed twelve times. And one bullet wound; a single shot to the groin. That night, after Boss and helper left, Dontrell was careful with her. He held her gently. He caressed her cautiously. One part of him, the angry part, wanted to rip open her legs and fuck her brutally. Not because he wanted to pain her anymore, but for reasons that had more to do with the threat to his masculinity than to her subjective experience of her sexual attack. He had just watched another man enjoy his woman's body. He watched Boss's mouth on her breasts, his hands on her ass, his cock up her pussy. These images, these memories, would forever drive him mad if he didn't erase them with his own aggression, his own governance over his woman's body, his own authority to dick her whenever and however he pleased. He felt the urge to reassert his power, and undo Boss's power, over Azela. But as he stared at how she was curled up in a fetal position and how she either stared blankly or cried with her eyes closed, Dontrell couldn't bring himself to do things that might remind her of how she was violated. Instead, they bathed together. They took baths every night for almost two weeks. He didn't push sex on her, even though his dick hardened each time he slid his soapy hands over her wet body, washing away her pain. On the eleventh night, she surprised him by stroking his throbbing dick underwater. It was the first sexual advance she had attempted since before his unsuccessful trip that had brought him home that night. Without saying a word, she straddled him and slowly let his meat sink into her. "Yeah," he breathed gratefully. "Oh yeah, girl, that's it…" He watched her ride him steadily. He took each breast entirely in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the nipples. His hands gripped her ass tightly as it moved up and down his thick rod. Water sloshed out of the tub. Color rose in her cheeks. Emotion seeped back into her response. Her breathing quickened. She clung to him and fucked him passionately. "Take me to the bed." Laying her down on her back, Dontrell pushed open her knees and dug into her gut. He gazed at her sexy wet body rock upwards, her breasts leap and fall, her chin tip up, each time he thrust forward into her spread legs. He watched her pretty face, looked into her seductive eyes. He loved her. And he knew it. He reassured her of his love that night. Climbing on top, he kissed her slowly while shoving himself into her over and over. She cried quietly as he made love to her. "I'm sorry…sorry, Baby…so sorry…" he murmured, nuzzling her neck, fighting back his own tears. He burrowed his dick deep into her abdomen and let himself go. Cum still oozed out of her as he turned her onto her stomach and lifted her ass to his waist. "I need to take you back," he asserted in a low voice, tightening his grip on her hips. He drove his hard cock into her pussy from behind, making her buck forward and tense up. He repeatedly propelled his dick into her hole, plunging in hard and pulling out slowly, inch by inch. "It's mine, Baby…it's mine… tell me it's mine," he pleaded as she let out throaty moans. "All yours, Baby. Take it. It's yours. Only yours. Take it from me. Take it. Take what's yours." Azela cried as he jackhammered her cunt. "I'm your man," he breathed into her ear. "It's my pussy. Belongs to me. Your man. Give it to your man." He felt her back up her ass and open it wider to him. "Yeah, that's good. That's it. It's mine. No one will take it from you but me. I promise." He has been reclaiming his woman's body ever since. Homecoming: The Hit Man & His Woman Ch. 03 Part 3- A True Friend Helps You Grow "Damn, Dogg... haven't seen you in a minute!" Shaun exclaimed as he slam-hugged his best friend. The two men were about the same size, Shaun standing 6 foot 3 inches; an inch shorter than Dontrell. He was well built with light black skin, short hair, and an unruffled demeanor. A real cool cat, Dontrell had said. Shaun's features were rounded, friendlier, more inviting than Dontrell's. Even so, standing next to each other, they looked like they would be best friends. Dontrell gave him daps. "Long time, my nigga. You remember my girl, Azela." He pulled her under his arm, protectively, territorially. Since Azela was truly the first woman that Dontrell had ever wanted completely to himself, he hadn't brought her around his guys almost at all. In their crew, they shared. But Dontrell was not about to share Azela and he didn't want anyone thinking otherwise. "Yeah, of course. Trel's wifey." Shaun grinned goofily, trying not to let his eyes wander over his boy's woman. She's fine as fuck, he thought to himself. Azela smiled politely. She peered into the living room and recognized some of the other guys. They were Dontrell's friends from childhood, not the guys that watched over her. The latter were more like partners than homeboys. Dontrell proudly showed off his woman. He saw their eyes surveying her body, which was fitted in a short denim skirt and a little pink top. Sexy heels elongated her shapely legs. He sneaked in a squeeze to her ass. The couple spent the day with Dontrell's friends. They barbequed, watched sports, played cards. Dontrell stuck close to Azela most of the time, blocking any advances that might result from leaving her too long with men. Dontrell trusted no one. That night, Azela gave him some good head and rode him into unconsciousness. Her slippery walls had surrounded him like a warm blanket. He hadn't even came before he let sleep overtake him. Dontrell's sleep was fitful, his dreams disturbing. He saw his woman laughing gleefully. She was wrapped only in a man's arms. Shaun's arms. Shaun's large hands moved over her soft naked skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned a quiet moan. They were in Shaun's apartment on his living room floor. Shaun's mouth closed over Azela's breasts, devouring the nipples. She started begging. Dontrell was filled with rage as he watched his woman beg for another man's dick. She begged and begged. Shaun laughed as he slipped his hand between her thighs and fingered her slowly. Frustrated, Azela rode his hand and unbuckled his jeans. Shaun's long dick sprung out, eager to fuck her. Dontrell watched helplessly as Azela dipped her head down and took his best friend's cock in her mouth. She sucked it furiously. Standing on his knees, Shaun leaned his head back and enjoyed the face he was receiving. Then he pulled her ass around to him, so she was positioned on her hands and knees. Azela arched her ass up to him, still begging for a fucking. Shaun poked her center a few times before shoving his dick into her hole. She screamed in pleasure as he pounded her pussy. Then the worst happened. Dontrell thrashed in his sleep as he dreamed about Azela begging to be cummed in by his best friend. Shaun rammed himself inside her one last time, spewing his seed into her. Dontrell woke up. Panicked, he patted around for his girl. His breathing was raspy, his forehead sweaty. It was pitch dark, except for the low moonlight that filtered in through their gauzy curtains. She was covered in their sheets, slumbering peacefully. His hand landed on her stomach. He clenched his fist, taking up a fistful of their blanket. His eyes began to adjust. She was lying on her back, her head resting to the side. She hadn't gone anywhere. Dontrell tried to suppress his urges, tried to quiet his wantonness. He was relieved that she was here, next to him, and not getting fucked by Shaun. But he was still wildly angry about the dream. Plus, his dick was on fire and as hard as a brick. Throwing back the covers, he climbed onto her. Azela stirred. She felt her legs dividing, her lips parting, her center opening wide. Wider. Her eyes were open now but couldn't see anything except a large shadow looming over her. He was already forcing his hot, rigid dick into her. Her pussy wasn't ready for the entry and tried to resist his thick black pole, but he split her open and began pumping. She tried to kick and began to yell out but when she smelled his familiar scent she stopped. Still groggy and slightly confused, she dropped back onto the pillow and let him have his way with her. He hastily lifted the long shirt (his long shirt) she was wearing up past her round tits, completely exposing her naked body. Even in the dark, he could make out the curves of her figure, which turned him on even more. He pressed on her clitoris, making circles with his thumb. He felt her tight pussy grow wetter. She had been whimpering in pain, but she slowly began to let out moans of pleasure. He watched her breasts jiggle. Her mouth was open partway, her eyes focused on his cane piercing her insides. "Don't you ever give this to anyone, ya heard? No other nigga should be in this. This is mine." Dontrell mumbled as he fucked her unsympathetically. His dick throbbed inside her as she squirmed below him, trying to mitigate the impact of his cock in her gut. But sitting on his knees, his body was positioned between her limp legs preventing her from closing them. He pushed her knees open some more, allowing his cock to cut into her deeper. Her yelps each time he pressed into her sounded like she was quietly bawling. He knew she could barely take this kind of sex. Forceful, emotionless, and hasty. Even so, he convinced himself that she wanted more. So he gave her the dick in hard, long strokes. All the while, his thoughts kept returning to the images in his dream. Each time he visualized Shaun thrusting into her, Dontrell swung his hips into her harder. Shaun's hands had been all over her. Dontrell recovered those areas; roughly grabbing her breasts, tightly gripping her hips, squeezing the underside of her thighs. His balls slapped the crack of her ass. He grunted as he pummeled her now sopping pussy. Finally, he lurched forward, crushing his dick inside her, and began cumming incessantly. He squirted load after load into her, filling her abdomen with his sticky, white cream. He had never cum so much before. He held himself inside her for several minutes. He stared at her face intently as he gave her a few more stern pumps. Azela hadn't said a word the whole time. She just took his dick dutifully. She always did. He had fucked her angrily in the middle of the night. She didn't know what provoked him, but she knew it was her job to calm him, soothe him, relieve him. "This pussy ain't going nowhere," she whispered, a sweet smile forming on her face. Dontrell gazed at her a moment, eased by her comment. He finally withdrew from her sore pussy and shifted onto his side of the bed, laying face up. He felt her scoot nearer to him and place kisses on the side of his muscular arm, his chest, his neck. He rubbed her tits and ass as she massaged his tired balls and limp dick. Cum poured from her cunt. Two weeks later, the stick showed pink. Positive. She had brought it to him, silently revealing the news. He glanced at it, then her, confused slightly. When it hit him, he didn't whoop or laugh or do his naked dance. He looked her in the eyes sincerely and pulled her mouth to him. Kissing her deeply, he embraced her like the hero in a Hollywood love scene. He murmured in her ear, told her he loved her over and over. He slowly undressed her, laid her down, and made a meal of her pussy. He tongue-kissed her kitty, sucked on her pearl, lapped up her juices. He still took her doggystyle (his favorite style), but for the first time, he fucked her slowly and lovingly from the back. Instead of crushing her hips with his strong hands, he gently held her belly as though it had grown (even though it had yet to expand any) and pushed into her softly from behind. He pulled out of her and came on her backside. Then he cleaned her off and stroked her hair as she lay by his side. She knew he was exhilarated. She was happy that he was happy. He did everything for her in the two months that followed. He walked with her, his hand on her lower back as if she was in her third term and needed the extra support. He did all the grocery shopping and tried to feed her nonstop. He often pressed the side of his head against her stomach and talked to their child, trying to hear a response. He was never more affectionate; the kisses and hugs never seemed to end. Azela knew she was becoming spoiled. But then again, so was he. Her breasts swelled significantly and overflowed all her bras. Dontrell nuzzled his new huge friends and sucked them eagerly each night. Her libido spiked up for some reason, causing her pussy to be almost constantly throbbing for dick. She initiated sex no less than twice a day, usually preferring to ride him so that she could really feel him good and hard, bouncing on his dick. He would rarely give her rough sex now, because he was too worried about the baby. What a woman, she would tease. In order to receive a good fucking, she had to provoke him. She'd call him a simp, holler at him to "hit it harder," tell him to claim his pussy lest another man did. She missed the dick that exhausted her. But she was delighted with the new man attached to this compassionate dick. They purchased a baby names book and laughed at each other's selections. They finally decided. Cheriya Angelie if it was a girl, Dontrell Anthony for a boy (although, they both agreed to call him D. Jr. as his nickname). He only had one trip to make and it lasted less than a week. He returned home bearing expensive pajamas and rich chocolates for her. Azela was half hanging off his large frame, kissing his neck and nibbling his ears, as he walked her to their room. She leapt onto the bed and, on all fours, pushed her ass out toward him. Like a bitch in heat, she began moaning to be fucked. "Please, baby... gimme that dick..." Dontrell watched her, amused and aroused, and began kneading her booty. "Take off those clothes, Mami." She rose upright on her knees and lifted the silk nightie over her head, exposing her bare backside to him. She didn't have on any panties. She returned to her doggystyle position and anxiously waited to be penetrated. Her pussy lips were swollen with desire and wetness seeped out of her canal. His pole punctured her rougher than she expected, but not more than she yearned for. He drove his dick into her easily and briefly before she exploded in orgasm, shaking against him as he jacked his cock off in her cunt. He cummed just inside the opening of her sopping pussy. When she climbed off the bed to head to the sink, he caught her arm. "Where you goin'?" He smiled down at her, happy to be home. "Can a nigga see you for a second, damn. Let me see you." He peered at her changing body. Her enormous breasts hung beautifully and heavily from a tiny pair of shoulders. Her areolas had enlarged some and gotten darker. Her belly was beginning to grow, but her waist was still quite petite. It looked smaller sandwiched between her full rack and her sexy hips, which had noticeably widened; giving her an exaggerated figure-eight body. It looked magnificent to him. I did this to her, he thought. I made her body change this way. His dick began to grow harder. "I'm getting fat," she remarked with a small sigh. "Naw, naw... no, this is sexy right here. I like this." His hands slid all over her body, over the curves and into the crevices. She stood there letting him feel her up. He reached out and grabbed two handfuls of her chest. He squeezed her boobs, feeling their fullness. Her breasts were moderately tender and his massaging gave her slight pain and an immense amount of pleasure. She lightly closed her eyes and tilted her head back a little. She felt his lips on her mouth, on her neck, on her breasts. His mouth felt like it was everywhere at once. She moaned quietly, feeling as though she was falling through air. She gave her pussy to him twice more that night, once straddling his lap and once on her back. As Azela fell asleep next to him, he thought about how gentle he had become with her; of how he wanted to be gentle with her, even in bed. So unlike me, he thought to himself. He had never been this serene with anyone, especially not a female that pleasured him sexually...