by Amarie Avant
My teeth scour against my bottom lip in thought of pleasing him. The titillating sound of Vassili unzipping his jeans sends a rush of water into my mouth. He cocks his head over and I glance around. Paranoia and desire bubble up in a bubbly chuckle as I reach down between him and the steering wheel. I’m already wet, and I haven’t even tasted him.
I breathe in the heady scent of his dick. Moaning in the slightly salted, woodsy musk. Then my tongue follows a juicy vine along his masterful cock. Pussy percolating instantly though it’s more than impossible, I attempt to swallow his thick, long, heavy shaft. I could suck him off forever, his cock is just that hypnotizing. I shiver with drunken anticipation, craving his cum.
“Zariah, suck my cock, baby.”
“Mmmm,” I twirl my tongue around his cockhead before attempting to gulp it down my throat with my soft tonsils. My lips kissing halfway down his cock as I suck harder. By now, my pussy is screaming, lips quaking. Like a slut, I deep throat him the best I can. He has such a glorious cock. I concentrate on working all the angles of its slightly curved, extreme fattiness. The length is enough to bring another pool of lust to my mouth. His hardness is all slick. My body betrays my conscious as I forget technique just to taste as much of him in my mouth as I am capable of and I can hear myself slurping.
We’re no longer moving. I glance up before popping my head back down. “Damn it, Vassili. No warning?”
“Nobody’s around. Get up, Zar. That pussy is good and wet. Jump on my cock.”
With my cheek nudged against the royal crown of his erection, I glare up at him. “No, not outside.” And I want to drink you to the last drop.
“It’s dark, sweetheart.”
Though his fingers are already twining through my hair, I argue, “Someone is bound to walk by.”
“Let ‘em. If they stop and stare, I will bash their head in with my fist. Climb on top of me, Zariah.” Vassili tugs softly at my tresses, as he groans, “Let me see how good you fuck?’
Though he phrases it as a question, there’s no choice for me. And I’m already mesmerized by the heavy look in his eyes. I arise from his lap
It's dark outside. The closest streetlight is weak, and the dark line swap meet shops parallel to us are all closed.
The driver’s seat zips backward. I place a hand on the middle console between us, measuring where to place my knee around his thigh and then positioning my other knee on the opposite side of him.
“Fuck me, Zariah,” he whispers in my ear, before his lips press against my earlobe, tongue twining inside of my ear. “Fuck me with that sweet pussy.”
With one hand on the leather headrest beside him, I slide my skirt up. Vassili’s hands are hot and feel good against my skin as he moves my thong aside. I position my valley at the pate of his dick, my sex creaming along as I slowly fill up. Screwing him still hurts, but my pussy accommodates his heavy, golden cock, inch by inch.
“Shit, you are so tight, so tight.” He clasps a hand along my throat and kisses me hard. “Sweetheart, get wetter for me,” his other hand snakes between us.
When he thrums my clit, I moan, thighs shaking against his frame. “Vassili…”
“Fuck me, Zariah,” he groans, gripping my ass and I stroke up and down his cock, craving his cum, and how it explodes inside of me. As my pussy massages up and down his long erection, we hear people outside.
“Don’t stop fucking me, Zariah. If they look, I’ll kill them.” He leans back. Hands behind his head, cocky grin, those heavy biceps flexed. Damn, Vassili is gorgeous.
Now, only pleasure floods my mind. He’s telling me that I belong to him. That he’d kill for me. I grip the headrest. My most sensitive parts continuing to explore his cock. Our tongues entwine as Vassili again groans about murdering anyone who dares look my way. He begs me not to stop, as my back arches. Damn, I’m in too much of a daze to stop. Never been wetter, never loved the feel of something so much.
“Vassili…” My legs weaken. His mouth latches onto mine as my cum streams down his cock. His tongue down my throat stopping me from bucking so loudly, hands expertly squeezing my breasts. A pinch to my nipples amplifies the pleasure as I ride my orgasm along his cock. I grind on his shaft, pussy climbing to the head of his shaft before much of his cock fits inside of me. Back to that thick, thick crown and gliding down a mountain of hard, fat erection. My sugar walls are tender from the stretch, yet my pussy strokes his dick. There’s so much more of him, so much more cock than I am ready to take.
“You’re wet for me. All for me.” His dark gaze all but has me lost. The entire world can crash and burn around us. I’m breathless, I reach forward, my chest against his. He still has a few inches that have yet to explore my inside.
Vassili grips the sides of my thong. “Ahh, Vassili…” My senses are in overload as the fabric strokes my clit and anus, while I’m screwing him.
“Don’t stop, beautiful,” Vassili growls in hunger, continuing to pull the strings of my thong. I climax, showering all over my man’s cock. He leans forward and buries his face into my breasts. Kissing and kissing my dark brown skin, coaxing me to cum harder, longer, more.
My drenched pussy engulfs even more of his dick now. He fills me up, and I hump him like a rabid animal. The sweet, slushy sound I’ve created with my juices has Vassili’s thick muscles tensing. With each thrust of my hips, I feel every hard contour of his generous cock.
“Fuck, Zariah.” Vassili’s hands grip my ass. “Tell me if you hurt.”
I bite the shit out of my lip. He will stop if I'm hurt. There’s no way in hell I can stop. The pain continues to burst into pleasure. He begins to pump me up and down. A whimper transforms into a moan deep down in my throat. Desire rises through my sex and up into my belly as he thrusts me on top of him. My body weighing less than a feather as Vassili’s cock disappears in and out of my pussy. Each drive sends him deeper, stretching me further, molding my body, until I’m crying against his scruffy jaw. He finds my mouth, burying his cock into my body while flooding me with his seed.
High off of the fighter, I stay in his lap. He’s leaned against the headrest. Both of our chests beating wildly. I bite my lip, the walls of my pussy quivering incessantly. Though he’d stretched me to capacity, and I know his fat cock needed more, I’m sore. Despite this, something in me wants to offer him more.
Vassili
My cock is bruised and I’m loving it. She’s the sweetest, tightest fit I’ve ever had. Did I hurt her? Zariah didn't respond when I asked. Her moaning turned me out. I was an animal. Slamming my cock into her tight pussy, shaping it just for me.
I hold her tightly, reminding myself not too tight. Don't fucking hurt her, Vassili, you dick. Seven years ago I made a promise to God not to screw Zariah if He gave me a sign. Her leaving for Georgia was that sign. I’m too selfish to make any more promises to God, but in my selfishness I can't hurt her and I will kill anyone else who does. There’s no way in hell I’ll let her go, so I hug her tightly still. Her thick, curly hair tickles at my chin. Heart drumming against mine as she catches her breath.
“Vassili,” she murmurs against my chest. “Is it okay if I fall in love with you?”
“What, baby?” I glance down, those large brown eyes of hers were closed.
She opens them and glances at me before laying her head back down on my chest in ultimate comfort. “I’m twenty-five years old. Never knew the feeling. Had no anticipation of it, either. Maybe this feeling in my heart, stomach, the haziness in my mind is all lust. You’re my first.”
“Baby, you’re analyzing love like it’s a potential case to accept or deny.” I nudge her chin, until I can look into those innocent orbs again.
“Yeah, I am. So far, the cons outweigh the pros. Maybe it’s lust—”
“I love you, too, baby. So get that shit outta here. It’s not lust.” She whimpers as I kiss her mouth.
“You love me too?” Zariah asks, seeming to look at me for the first time. “I love you, Vassili.”
&n
bsp; “Fuck yeah, I love the air you breathe, Zariah, even when you get on my last goddamn nerve.”
“All right, but can you smile at me more?”
“What do you mean?” I grasp my hair, half the damn time she doesn’t make a lick of sense. “You said something about me smiling earlier, baby, I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You’re always frowning, and ‘talking like this’,” she says, her forced tensed lips turning into an easy smile.
“Sweetheart, you’re mimicking some other accent, not mine.”
Zariah chuckles.
“I didn't think my smiling mattered. Truth be told, I’d murder just to see you smile.” I won't tell her that I'm still stuck on which I like more, attitude Zariah or happy Zariah.
She laughs harder. “You killed for a grin. Whateva, Vassili.”
“You came into the gym ready to blow the bitch down. You were drop dead beautiful. Why wouldn't I want to make you happy? You're even more beautiful years later. You look fucking gorgeous,” I tell her, hand entwined with hers while planting a kiss along her jaw line. Can’t be a pussy and tell it was love at first sight, not just her looks. Shit, she has those curves from her plush mouth all the way to that sweet cunt. But it was all in the way she claimed Vadim’s Gym as her own for justice’s sake.
And as if her smile wasn't bright as the stars, Zariah’s grin amplifies. “Thank you, Vassili.”
She offers one last grin before climbing toward the passenger side. With her pussy puckering up at me from beneath her skirt, I reach out for a touch.
“Tight,” I say, enthralled while skimming a thumb against the swollen lips of her cunt, they’re thickening ever so beautifully. Her breathing shallows I let go, and she sinks down onto her spot, almost as if her pussy is in the same pain my cock is in.
I rub my glossed finger along my mouth in thought. The brown sugar scent of her has me licking my lips now. “Beautiful, your pussy looked so good right now. Good enough to eat, but I have to feed you.”
“Hmmm…” Her eyes beg for another good, hard fuck. Almost trance like she can take more of a pounding. But I won’t break her just yet.
“Before I feed you, love, clean me up.” I point at my cock, slick with our cum.
She reaches back down, tasting the thick coating of her own pleasure and lapping it up. At the head of my cock, remnants of my cum has her tongue swirling leisurely, as if she dare not miss a drip.
“Good girl.”
A few minutes later, the weak glow from the visor mirror, encompasses all her attention. She fluffs her thick natural hair and applies more lipstick.
“You ready?” I ask once she’s settled back against the seat again.
“Yeah.” She nods.
I get out, and come around the Mercedes truck. There's no such thing as keeping my hands to myself. The second I open the passenger’s door for her to exit, she gives a little tug of her skirt, beaming bright as ever.
We head to the doors of Urban Kashtan. The place is new era Russia, but the food tastes like somebody’s fucking babushka—grandma— slaving away in the kitchen.
A while later, we’ve settled down at a tiny table surrounded by so much memorabilia, that each table has a level of intimacy. I ask, “All right, Zariah, the shchi or pho?”
“You could have taken me to Wienerschnitzel, that's about as Russian as I'm going to get.” She twirls her spoon around the cabbage soup while chewing on her bottom lip. I take it as my chance to reach in and bite her lip too. My mouth skimming over the exact spot she chewed on, until I sink my teeth into her plush mouth too.
“I love you,” I growl the words. “Never saw myself as mushy, then I met you.”
Fireworks spark, bursting in Zariah’s pupil. “Who you telling?” she jokes. “Kidding, kidding. You are unexpected but that makes it all the better, Vassili. Here's to the man who…” she holds up the vodka, “Thugged his way into my life, held my heart siege.”
“And I'll never let you go.” Again, I take to her lips with fierceness.
“Exactly,” she nods before we both toss the drinks back.
“Can I ask you something?” She lingers. Sweet mouth still slightly peppered with the pussy juices she licked off me and her gaze is so innocent too. Her index finger drawing along my bristled jaw.
“We've already agreed to not having any …” shit, can't say ‘secrets’ Anatoly is my only one, “lies.”
“Why help?” Zariah sucks her lips into her mouth as if this soul question has been analyzed a thousand times. “I told you my story. Hoping that the bad cards Ronisha was dealt would allow me to leave a Resnov sight after I cussed you all out. I was sick and tired of her being abused. But why did you really help, Vassili. It couldn't have been to see me smile. As scared as I was after finding out your last name, you could've made me do anything. Smile… anything.”
Sasha instantly enters my mind.
“Because you were sexy as fuck. You are sexy,” I explain. “I told you the gym that motherfucker was a member of wouldn't take so kind to your pretty ass mouth. Didn't want to hear about you being popped over that mouth.”
“Humph, aside from me, Vassili, why help?”
“Your story compelled me.” I crunch on a few shards of ice while Zariah patiently waits. She's already got the mentality of a lawyer. I toss my drink back, then mumble, “Your friend reminded me of a girl I once knew.”
“Were you in love with her?”
I laugh boisterously.
“Were you?”
“You fucking kidding? We just declared how new this shit was for the both of us. The girl was my sister.”
Zariah gasps sharply. “What happened to her? Did she have a disability or delay similar to—”
“Nah, nothing like that. Unless you account being female. Where I'm from, the Resnov name means nothing for a girl.”
She places her spoon into the bowl. I sink back in the seat. I've got my girl’s full attention and no amount of steering clear of the topic will work. Besides, something in me feels like telling Zariah. “Sasha, my sister wasn't treated so kindly by the men in her life, like your friend Ronisha.”
“Damn, I’m not even that close to Ronisha anymore, which just…” Zariah bites her lip and a grimace pierces her heavenly face. “Oh no. Your father… Was he her father?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Statistically speaking men aren't often as cordial when caring for stepchildren…” her voice drowns out, she shrugs as if further explanation is no longer important.
“Yeah, that mudak treated his only daughter, his blood, like shit. Some of my father’s guys were roughing her up one day.”
She gasps. “What happened?”
“Got in my first fight, that's what.” I shrug. “When I told my dad about it, he didn't give a fuck. He grabbed my face and asked about the black eye I had. That mudak had those dudes and their families dealt with for me, not because they abused his daughter.”
“What? What happened next?”
“Nothing much,” I start. “Sasha, man, was she beautiful. She had dark skin and gold hair…24 karat gold. She got touched again. I fought harder, started working out more. We moved around.”
“You didn't live with your parents?”
“Nah, every couple of years my dad had a new bitch who brought more minions into this world.”
“What about your mom? Did she try to help?”
“Skipped town soon as she got the chance.” I glance away. “Sasha always wanted to keep the peace. And I was just a kid, getting my ass beat because grown-ass men couldn't keep their hands off her. Sasha was pure goodness through it all. As we were moved around from my father's girls—those piz’das never really watched us—she made friends with our half brahs and sisters.” I almost laugh. “I wasn't so nice to them. Spent most time at the boxing gym after class. Didn't bully them, but people knew when not to test me or talk to me.”
Her teary gaze sparkles somewhat. “You have your moments of being very gu
arded.”
“Yeah, I guess I still do. Sasha could go from fighting one of my father’s goons off of her to baking medovik, this cake that takes forever to make and tastes like honey. She taught me how to make that goddamn pancake I forced you to try and you loved since you didn't want eggs.”
Zariah sniffles with a smile.
“One day, Sasha just didn't feel like baking or cooking or lighting up the room with her smile. Shit,” I whisper breathing deeply. “I didn't even know she wanted to die until I found her with a needle in her arm. Overdosed with her father's very own product. She was eleven, twelve maybe.”
My woman caresses my cheek again. “I'm so sorry, Vassili.”
“Let's not fuck up our mood, baby.” I grab the drink, pour us more. “You and Ronisha aren’t too close? How is she working doubles at Shakey’s?”
“I'll pass. I'm tipsy.” Her lips twist in thought. “Wait, you're aware Ronisha works at Shakey’s Pizza.”
“Yeah, she has the Resnov name behind her and doesn't even know it. Keeping her safe offered me a piece of mind. You go postal. I turn killer again.”
Zariah offers a sentimental squeeze to my forearm. “You'd do anything for me. Vassili…”
“Baby, you know me well. But if you start crying, I get angry, believing I've done something wrong.” I caress her neck. Blinking back an image of Sasha crying. She'd cry in my arms, but never wanted me to defend her. She always put me first she was my biggest regret. “Don't cry, Zar.”
“Not even happy tears?” She gently tugs her bottom lip into pearly white teeth.
I shake my head. No tears period. I grab the bottle, pouring the vodka into her mouth. She gulps some down. I pour more, place the bottle onto the table and then quickly drink from her lush mouth. Our tongues entwine. My hand slips into the hot juicy apex of her curvy thighs.
Zariah places her palm over mine. A ceasing attempt.
“What you doing, girl?” I nip at her lip.
“Not here,” she murmurs, mahogany skin burning by the second.
“I could fuck you anytime.” My tongue glides over her bottom lip, tasting traces of alcohol and sweetness. But I remove my hand, though, I don't want to obscure my respect for her. Though I'm a bull, ready to screw her on key. She ain’t the others. She is my woman; the one I love.