He pinned her against the wall, as she reached inside his sweats to free him. Her eyes widened in shock at the blessing she uncovered. Those sweatpants did him no justice. What she had suspected was big was more like magnificent. Ethic placed her on her feet and his head fell back, as she stroked his length with her smooth hands.

“This ain’t right,” he growled.

“Don’t say that. Don’t tell me no,” she whispered. He picked her up, again, this time sliding her onto him, causing her to gasp. He was more than she had anticipated, and she dug her nails into his back, as he rocked in and out of her.

“Shit,” she moaned, as he explored her depths. He was hard, and her softness massaged him as he sank into her, barely wanting to pull out before diving in again.

“Damn,” he moaned.

She grabbed his chin with one hand and pulled his mouth to hers as she kissed him. Her tongue danced inside his mouth, as if she were trying to inhale him. “It’s so good,” she whispered. Ethic had her trapped, her back against a wall, as he touched the center of her with every stroke. She wanted to run from him, to dull the ache he caused each time he thrust inside her, but there was nowhere to go. She knew he would be good, but to be this damn good was a motherfucking sin. She would have to try hard not to feel entitled to this man. He was the type of lover who made bitches go crazy.

“Turn around.” There was another one of his orders, and she followed it, as she braced herself, hands to the wall as if he were about to arrest this pussy. She felt him against her ass, knocking the top of it with his heavy manhood, as if he were waiting for her to say come in. He left her wondering for a brief second about what he was about to do. The lack of control as he took charge was a new element for her. Alani had always been the pretty, prissy girl in the hood. Few men had experienced her treasure, and those who did, usually had to follow her lead. She was old fashioned and had never dared to venture outside of anything missionary. She was a pretty bitch, so she could be boring. A man had never made her want to try too hard, but for this type of dick, she would pop her pussy on a handstand if it meant she could have it forever. She was a control freak and didn’t like anyone else manipulating her body. She liked to say when, where, and how; but with Ethic, she felt safe. With Ethic, she felt lucky, and she was in it to please, instead of to receive. Her body tensed, as she anticipated pain.