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Writer's pictureAuthor Tisha Andrews

Sample Sunday with Faith and Denver



Prologue

The rhythm of her heart sped up as he brushed his lips across hers. Lips thick and full that made Faith want to die right there right then as Denver took her mouth. She closed her eyes as she savored the taste. It was a mixture of mint and what he had smoked, so intense and intoxicating she felt her center pulsating.


“Tell me what you want from me ’cause anything you want, anything you need, I’ll kill to give that shit to you,” he said with conviction, gripping her neck as she slid underneath him.


She spread her thighs open, allowing him to have a full view of her perfectly shaven pussy as her robe fell open. She never knew exposing herself would be so powerful, so ardent as he whispered, “Stop holding back from me, ma.”


He slipped one finger in between her fattened, pinkish brown folds that seemed to have bloomed just for him. Her swollen nub quivered as he bent down and blew on it, causing her to hiss as her back arched. The touch of his fingers to her sex sent her into a frenzy, his calloused fingers strumming on her love that tucked and pulled at her soul.


Tears spilled down the side of her temple coupled with sweat that rained down her body, a sweat he’d worked up simply by being in her presence. It was like that with them, always like that. Things were never cold or lukewarm. They were hot, very hot to the point they felt they were about to combust and explode.


“I wanna suck on this pussy until the sun comes up and keep going until that motherfucker goes down,” he hissed huskily, working her center as she released unintelligible pleas of pleasure.


The declaration of what he desired to do to her was mind boggling as she chanted a foreign language of love, a language for his ears and heart only as she panted.


“Please,” she begged, her chest heaving up and down when he sat up on his haunches, a mischievous smile appearing as he took her in.


He was beyond in love, his eyes consumed by her mocha-colored breasts with areolas that peaked with excitement.


“Don’t… don’t stop,” she pleaded, missing his touch when he slid his two fingers in his mouth and sucked and pulled on them slowly.


“So fucking sweet, ma,” he said, issuing that same smile as she tried to touch herself. He growled, slapping her hand away before he quickly lifted both of her thighs and rested his face in between her legs.


“Hi, pretty pussy,” he whispered against her as Faith released a loud wail, shaking her head. This was torture, pure torture, and she wanted it, needed it. When he softly blew inside of her love, her body quickly rose up. Her feet firmly planted on each side of his body as she rested on the palms of her hands looking down at him.


His peanut butter colored skin glistened, his soft brown eyes an anchor pulling her in as he pecked her center, then slowly drew circles around it as she cried out, “Please, noooo. Oh, fuck!”


He chuckled.


“Naw, don’t plead now,” he spoke against her pussy.


He then used his tongue to flick on the tip of her clitoris as her body ignited with a raging passion she couldn’t contain. She belted out a loud wail deep from her belly, one he prayed he would fill up for her to release his children, his legacy.


“Yeah, say that shit, baby,” he urged her.

He slid his stiffened tongue into her love, sliding in and out as she wound her hips. She panted while confessions of her need for more escaped from her lips, pouty lips Denver couldn’t wait to have wrapped around his dick.


His tongue stroked her pussy like a hungry, starved savage. Up and down then ’round and around as she fed him the sweetest pussy on this side of heaven. Just when she was close to coming undone, he latched onto her swollen nub. Faith’s eyes shot open, her lips quivering as he slowly and gently massaged her love with his tongue until her body gave way.

“Fuck, baby!” she bellowed, her pussy quaking all over his mouth.


“This my shit, Mouse. Always,” he whispered ever so softly, pecking it a few times as she hummed and chanted even more. She gave him that ugly cry, that cry that came when it hurt so good and damn it, it felt better than good.


It was perfect. Perfect just like Faith, his Mouse.


“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered to her then looked back down at his personal playground between her legs. “Thank you, pretty pussy,” he spoke into her center, smiling. That made Faith laugh.


“Ugh, I hate you,” she told him, shaking her head while relishing in the sight of his mouth covered and glistening from her release.


“The fuck you do.” He laughed before he latched onto her pussy again, and she screamed.

She gave him that ugly, cry, the cry that came when it hurt so good and damn it, it felt better than good.


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