“I think there might be some turkey bacon in the freezer. How much should I make?”
“I’m a big nigga. Make the whole pack. As you know, I like to eat,” he stated, licking his lips.
I swallowed hard. He sure fucking did. Before I could gather my thoughts, I heard Butta yelp on the other side of the door, signaling that I didn’t have much time before he had an accident.
He chuckled. “You betta go get that lil nigga before he pisses all over your floor,” Kareem commented as if reading my thoughts. “He’s probably traumatized after watching me fuck the shit out of you in the living room last night.”
“Shut up!” Mortified, I turned away and threw on some sweatpants and Crocs before opening the bedroom door. “C’mon, Butta. Let’s go, baby boy.”
“The rain finally stopped,” I announced when I came back into the room.
“Good.”
“So, I guess that means I’ll be taking you to check in on your car sooner or later, right?”
“Mmhm.”
“But first, . . . we head to the kitchen.”
I tossed him some more sweatpants and watched him put them on before he followed me down the hall.
“I think I want pancakes.”
“Deal. Could you grab the mixing bowl from over there and the measuring cup? It’s up above me in the cabinet,” I said while washing my hands at the sink.
He stepped up behind me and pushed his dick against my ass while reaching up to put his hand on the measuring cup off the shelf. "Say please."
I smirked. "Please."
“That's better," he replied, taking a step back and holding it out in front of him before smacking my ass.
“Are you already starting shit?” I placed one hand on the edge of the measuring cup and the other behind his neck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, shawty.”
His mouth said one thing, but he had this look in his eyes, and I knew he was fucking with me.
I grabbed the cup and set it on the counter. “Stop playing, Kareem.”
“Huh? Whatchu mean?” He wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me close. “It’s not my fault. You’re the one who ain’t put on no bra.”
I wiggled my index finger, indicating he should move closer so I could whisper something. “Did you notice I’m also not wearing any panties?”
Without warning, he picked me up to put me on the counter. “Them fuckin’ pancakes can wait until later.”
“Kareem.” I burst out laughing. “What if I’m hungry?”
“I got somethin’ yo’ pretty ass can snack on.” He winked.
“Oh, really?” I pulled the T-shirt off. “A snack, eh?”
“Sure. You like chocolate, don’t chu?” He pushed his sweatpants over his hips and let them fall onto the floor.
I hopped off the counter, thankful I’d put Butta in my room while we cooked. He didn’t need to see his mommy on her knees about to give the nigga who broke into our house the hawk tuah girl treatment. I pushed him back against the stove and inched closer, moving my hand around his abs. I wrapped my hand around his thick erection. “Chocolate is my favorite.”
He fisted his hand into my braids and closed his eyes. I dropped my head and wrapped my mouth around him. He was big, and I always struggled to fit him into my mouth. I let myself relax and moved down over him. I gagged but didn’t stop. It wasn’t like I was a dick-sucking fiend, but there was somethingabout Kareem’s dick—the length, girth, and slight curve—that made me wanna suck his soul out of his body.
“Goddamn, shawty.” His hand was on my shoulder.
