Disclaimer:
This story contains explicit adult content, including themes of sexual objectification, power dynamics, and public intimacy. It is intended for mature readers (18+). Reader discretion is advised.
The noon day sun sat high in the autumn sky, casting golden light over the streets of the quiet neighborhood. Trees lining the cracked sidewalks were ablaze with fiery hues of red, orange, and yellow, their leaves swirling in the light breeze. A young man rode his beat-up bike lazily down the street, his red hoodie standing out like a bold splash of color against the season’s warm palette. The hoodie hung loose over his compact frame, sagging low enough to reveal his skinny jeans riding low on his hips. The snug fabric framed the plump curve of his ass in a way that drew attention with every slow pedal.
He was light-skinned, his complexion glowing softly in the sun, as if kissed by its warmth. His short, curly ginger hair framed his head in soft, tight coils that caught the light like autumn leaves. Tiny freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and cheeks, adding a boyish charm to his otherwise laid-back demeanor. His lips, full and dark, bore the faint stain of habitual blunt smoking, their slightly ashy tint an unintentional signature of his lifestyle. His eyes, slanted and rimmed with red, carried the telltale haze of someone who had been floating all day, their lazy focus giving him a dreamy, otherworldly allure.
The way he carried himself was effortless, almost languid, but there was a subtle magnetism in the way his body moved, his confidence understated but undeniable. The daylight seemed to cling to him as he glided through the neighborhood, his presence blending into the season’s vivid beauty like he belonged to it.
He pedaled slowly, one hand gripping the handlebar while the other clutched a plastic bag from the corner store. Inside were the essentials: a couple of blunt wraps, a soda, and a bag of chips. There was no need to rush. This was his time to chill, to feel the crisp autumn air on his skin, and to soak in the calm of the world around him—especially when he was high.
He hummed softly to himself, a bop from earlier in the day playing in his head, and scanned the neighborhood for familiar faces. Kids played tag a few houses down, their laughter ringing out, while older men gathered on a stoop, talking loudly over a booming speaker playing old-school R&B.
He nodded at a woman sweeping her porch, grinning slightly when she smiled back. It was that kind of day. Easy, calm, and indulgent—just how he liked it.
As he turned the corner, the air seemed to shift, growing heavier, charged with an almost electric hum that prickled the back of his neck. It wasn’t just the rustle of autumn leaves or the cool shadow falling from the trees—it was something else, something alive. He glanced down the street, at first not noticing anything unusual. But then his gaze landed on the car parked by the curb, and it was as if the world had paused.
There was no looking away, no ignoring the pull of its presence—magnetic, undeniable, and heavy with unspoken promise.
A red and black Dodge Charger Hellcat sat low and wide, its muscular frame radiating power and menace. The car gleamed under the soft autumn light, its polished finish sharp enough to reflect the vibrant leaves fluttering around it. Its aggressive grille and flared wheel arches gave it the look of a predator lying in wait, the faint rumble of its idle engine almost like a growl. This wasn’t just a car—it was a statement, a warning, and a promise all in one.
Leaning against it, casual as you please, was a man who looked like he owned it—and everything else.
Tall, dark-skinned, and devastatingly handsome, he leaned against the Charger like it was his throne. His beard was perfectly groomed, framing a jawline so sharp it could have been carved from stone. A black hoodie stretched just right across his broad chest and shoulders, hinting at the powerful frame beneath, while his jeans sat low on his hips, tailored to perfection. He radiated confidence, the kind that didn’t need flashy embellishments or unnecessary flair.
But it was his eyes that froze him in place. Piercing and predatory, they locked onto him with an intensity that made the rest of the world fade away. The small smirk curling his full lips told him everything he needed to know—this man knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t the type to back down. There was danger in that gaze, but not the kind that warned you to run. It was the kind that dared you to come closer.
His stomach flipped, but he kept his face neutral. He wasn’t about to let some stranger rattle him. Slowing his bike, he tightened his grip on the handlebars, meeting that gaze head-on as he passed.
“Yo, Red Hoodie,” the man called out, his voice deep and smooth like a late-night radio DJ.
He glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? Whatchu want?”
The man’s smirk widened, and he stepped away from the car, his movements slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. “With all that ass you carryin’, you better hope a nigga don’t follow you home… unless you want ‘em to.”
Red’s heart thudded in his chest, but he rolled his eyes, playing it cool. “Ain’t nobody lookin’ at you like that, nigga. Fuck outta here.”
The man chuckled, low and rich, and leaned back against the car like he owned the whole street. “You sure about that?” His eyes trailed over Red lazily, like he was taking his time to drink in every inch. “’Cause I think a nigga got your attention.”
Red scoffed, his lips twitching into a smirk he couldn’t quite hide. “You think a lotta things, don’t you?”
“I think you ain’t foolin’ nobody,” the man replied easily. “But go on, play hard to get. I like a challenge.”
Red shook his head, biting his lip to suppress the heat rising in his cheeks. “Nigga, please. You ain’t no God damn wolf out here.”
The man’s grin widened, his teeth flashing white as his eyes gleamed with mischief. “How you know my name?”
Red tilted his head, smirking as he leaned on the handlebars of his bike. “Is that really your name?”
“Yeah, it’s my name,” the man replied smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence.
Red arched an eyebrow, his tone playful. “Then why they call you Wolf?”
The man stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto Red’s. “’Cause when I hunt, I always get what I want.”
The man stepped closer, his voice dropping to a smooth, teasing drawl. “Because when I see somethin’ I want, I don’t stop ’til it’s mine.”
Red’s chest tightened, a mix of nerves and something he couldn’t quite name, but he refused to let it show. He scoffed, gripping the handlebars tighter as he gave the man a pointed look. “Good luck with that,” he muttered, pedaling away with a forced nonchalance.
The man’s chuckle followed him, low and rich, carrying on the crisp autumn breeze. “I’ll see you around, Red Hoodie,” he called out, his voice laced with confidence. “Don’t be actin’ brand new!”
Red’s pulse quickened as the words lingered in the air, and though he didn’t look back, the smirk tugging at his lips gave away more than he intended.
He didn’t look back, but the smirk on his face as he turned the corner betrayed him. Whoever that guy was, he wasn’t like anyone Red had met before.
And something told him this wouldn’t be their last encounter.
The house was quiet, except for the faint creak of floorboards under Red’s feet as he moved to the living room. His grandma had left a note on the fridge before heading to church: “Gone until late in the evening. Dinner’s in the fridge. Be good.” Red chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
“Be good,” he muttered, dropping onto the couch. “Yeah, okay.”
The corner store bag sat on the coffee table, the soda already cracked open and sweating in the cool air. Red grabbed his grinder and a pack of blunt wraps, setting up his ritual. The sharp, earthy smell of weed filled the room as he worked, humming softly to himself.
He was halfway through rolling when a sharp knock echoed through the house. Red froze for a second, his hands hovering over the blunt. His grandma wasn’t expecting company, and neither was he. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then toward the door.
The knock came again, slower this time, heavier.
Red sighed, standing and brushing crumbs off his hoodie. “Who the hell…”
Peeking through the curtain, his stomach did a little flip. There he was—the man from earlier, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. Wolf had that same cocky smirk, his black hoodie sitting snug against his broad chest, and his beard catching just enough sunlight to gleam.
Red pulled the door open just a crack, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “How the fuck you know where I live, nigga?”
Wolf grinned, leaning one arm against the doorframe, his posture casual but his gaze sharp. “Told you, Red. I got my ways.”
“That’s not an answer,” Red shot back, though his tone carried more curiosity than annoyance.
Wolf tilted his head slightly, his eyes dragging over Red with a slow, deliberate intensity, like he was sizing him up for something more. “You always this cute when you mad?”
Red blinked, caught off guard for just a second before narrowing his eyes and rolling them. “Nigga, what the fuck do you want?”
Wolf’s smirk widened, his voice dipping lower. “To see you again. That a problem?”
Red scoffed, shifting his weight against the doorframe. “Yeah, kinda. I didn’t ask for all this shit.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Besides, my grandma at church, and I ain’t tryin’ to get caught up with no bullshit.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow, his grin turning playful. “Your grandma at church? Why you ain’t there with her?”
Red’s lips twitched into a smirk, and he leaned back slightly. “I ain’t tryna stress the pastor out with my sins today. Maybe next week.”
Wolf chuckled, the sound deep and rich, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You wild, Red. I like that.”
Wolf chuckled, stepping a little closer, his frame filling the doorway. “C’mon, Red. You gon’ leave me out here like I’m the Big Bad Wolf?”
Red raised an eyebrow, leaning on the door. “What if I do? What if I don’t let you in?”
Wolf’s grin turned wicked. “Then I’ll huff, puff, and blow your walls out.”
Red blinked, his mouth falling open for a moment as the double meaning landed. His cheeks flushed, and he quickly looked away, trying to play it off. “Nigga, you real proud of that one, huh?” he said, his voice a little shakier than he wanted it to be.
Wolf chuckled, clearly catching Red’s reaction. “Proud enough to know you felt that,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and dripping with intent.
“Proud enough to know you ain’t slammin’ this door in my face,” Wolf shot back.
Red shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at his lips. “You really somethin’ else. What’s next, you gonna tell me you brought a housewarming gift?”
Wolf reached into his pocket with a knowing grin, pulling out a small, clear bag of weed and holding it up between two fingers. The contents inside shimmered in the light like treasure—a vibrant mix of purples, deep greens, and fiery orange hairs, dusted with crystals that sparkled like frost. Even from where Red stood, the smell hit him—rich, citrusy sweetness layered with hints of pine and an earthy musk that practically screamed premium.
“Better than that,” Wolf said, his voice low and smooth. “I brought that Zaza.”
Red’s eyes locked on the bag, the sight of the exotic colors and the intoxicating scent stirring something in him. He could already tell it wasn’t just any weed—it was loud, the kind of top-shelf that real potheads bragged about for weeks. His resolve wavered as his fingers twitched, itching to grab it, but he forced himself to lean back against the door, pretending like it wasn’t getting to him.
“That shit supposed to impress me?” he asked, his tone casual, though his eyes lingered a second too long on the shimmering buds. He was already halfway convinced, but damned if he’d let Wolf see it.
“Shit. You tell me. Does it?” Wolf challenged, his voice smooth and low.
Red hesitated, glancing back into the house. His grandma wasn’t due back for hours. The smell of weed could be aired out by then. And, if nothing else, the guy was persistent—and damn good-looking.
“Alright, fine,” Red said, opening the door a little wider. “But don’t be gettin’ comfortable and shit.”
Wolf stepped inside with the confidence of someone who owned the place, the door clicking shut behind him. “Oh, I’ll make myself at home soon enough,” he said, flashing that same wolfish grin.
Red rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the heat creeping into his cheeks. He grabbed his half-rolled blunt and gestured to the coffee table. “You better not be lyin’ about that good shit.”
Wolf chuckled, pulling off his hoodie and sitting on the couch like he belonged there. “I never lie, Red. You gon’ learn that soon enough.”
The blunt was finished, its perfect spiral a small masterpiece of Red’s steady hands. He placed it on the coffee table, catching Wolf’s lingering gaze as he leaned back against the couch. That confident smirk hadn’t left Wolf’s face since he walked in, and it was starting to make Red’s stomach twist in ways he wasn’t ready to admit.
“You roll nice,” Wolf said, his voice smooth, almost teasing. “Bet you do a lotta things nice.”
Red glanced up, his brow furrowing, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Bruh, you stay talkin’ shit, don’t you?”
Wolf shrugged, relaxed as ever. “Just callin’ shit how I see it. That a problem, Red?”
Red grabbed the blunt and stood, waving him off. “Nigga, c’mon. We hittin’ this outside. Grandma don’t need to come home to the house smellin’ like loud.”
Wolf chuckled, getting to his feet. “Whatever you say, boss.”
They stepped out onto the back porch, the autumn air cool and crisp. The backyard was surrounded by trees, their fiery red and orange leaves catching the last rays of sunlight. A light breeze rustled through them, scattering a few across the weathered wooden steps. Red grabbed a lighter from his pocket, plopped down on the top step, and sparked the blunt.
He took a slow, deep drag, letting the thick, potent smoke settle before exhaling. The Zaza hit smooth, and the bold flavor rolled over his tongue like silk. Red’s head tilted back slightly, his eyes closing for just a moment as he let the high creep in.
When he opened them, Wolf was watching him, standing just a step down, his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket.
“The fuck you starin’ for?” Red asked, handing him the blunt.
Wolf took it, his fingers brushing Red’s just enough to linger. He leaned back against the wooden railing and took a drag himself, the ember glowing bright in the dimming light. “I’m just thinkin’,” Wolf said, his voice slow, deliberate.
“Thinkin’ what?”
Wolf exhaled a thick plume of smoke, his eyes locking onto Red’s. “Thinkin’ how sexy you look when you relax. All soft like that.”
Red’s cheeks flushed, and he snatched the blunt back. “Nigga, you wildin’,” he muttered, taking another drag to avoid meeting Wolf’s gaze.
“You like it, though,” Wolf replied, his tone confident, like it wasn’t even a question.
Red huffed, shaking his head as he exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the air. “You stay actin’ like you know what I like. Bruh, you don’t even know me.”
Wolf leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “Maybe. But a nigga tryna get to know you, Red.”
Red paused, the blunt halfway to his lips. The way Wolf said “Red” felt heavier than before, like it carried more weight now that they were alone. It wasn’t even his real name, but the way Wolf said it made it feel like it was meant for him—intimate, possessive, and impossible to ignore.
“Lemme see that,” Wolf said, holding out a hand.
Red hesitated but handed the blunt over, his heart thudding when their fingers brushed again. Wolf smirked as he turned the blunt around, placing the lit end between his teeth and angling it backward. The move was deliberate, his piercing eyes locked on Red, daring him to figure out what was coming next.
Red blinked, his stomach flipping when Wolf tilted his head slightly, leaning in close. Their faces were a breath apart, the blunt bridging the space between them.
“Nigga, what you doin’?” Red asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting between the blunt and Wolf’s smirking lips.
Wolf’s grin deepened, his voice low and teasing as he spoke around the blunt. “Shotgunnin’ you.”
Before Red could respond, Wolf’s hand moved to the back of his neck, his grip firm but seductive, curling just enough to hold him in place. The touch sent a jolt through Red that he couldn’t ignore, his breath catching in his throat as Wolf pressed the blunt’s unlit end against his lips.
“C’mon,” Wolf murmured, his tone coaxing but commanding.
Red hesitated, but the intensity in Wolf’s eyes made resistance impossible. He parted his lips slightly, and the moment he did, Wolf blew into the blunt, sending the thick, potent smoke straight into Red’s mouth.
The warmth of Wolf’s breath and the heady aroma of the Zaza hit Red all at once, intoxicating and overwhelming. His chest tightened as he inhaled reflexively, the taste of smoke and something undeniably electric filling him. The grip on his neck kept him steady, kept him grounded, even as his pulse raced.
For a moment, the world felt like it had shrunk to just the two of them—smoke curling between their lips, the air thick with tension and something unspoken. Red exhaled slowly, his breath hitching as Wolf’s hand lingered on the back of his neck, his thumb brushing lightly against his skin.
“You feel that?” Wolf asked, his voice soft but laced with dominance.
Red couldn’t answer, not with his heart pounding and his body betraying every ounce of nonchalance he’d tried to maintain. The smirk on Wolf’s lips told him that he didn’t need to.
Wolf held the blunt loosely between his fingers, the faint ember glowing as he shifted closer. Then, without hesitation, he brought his face to Red’s, his lips brushing lightly against his. It started as a ghost of a touch, soft and testing, but when Red didn’t pull away, Wolf took it as all the encouragement he needed.
The kiss deepened, unfolding like a slow-burning flame, each movement deliberate and consuming. Wolf’s hand cupped Red’s jaw with a possessive tenderness, his thumb grazing over Red’s cheek in a touch that sent shivers through him. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim, commanding and unyielding, yet impossibly intimate.
Red felt himself giving in, his resistance slipping away as the heat of Wolf’s lips drew him closer. His free hand clutched the edge of the step, desperate for balance, though it felt like the world was tilting, spinning on the axis of their connection. Time seemed to stretch and blur, the cool autumn air forgotten as Wolf’s dominance anchored Red in the moment, leaving him breathless, tingling, and wanting more.
When they finally broke apart, Red was breathless, his lips tingling. Wolf leaned back just enough to look him in the eyes, his smirk softening into something more intimate.
“You ain’t gotta play hard to get with me, Red,” Wolf said, his voice low and smooth.
Red swallowed, his heart pounding. He wanted to snap back with something sarcastic, something to put space between the way Wolf’s words made him feel—but he couldn’t.
Wolf handed the blunt back, his fingers brushing Red’s one more time. “C’mon,” he said, jerking his head toward the house. “We don’t need your grandma catchin’ us out here.”
Red took the blunt, standing on shaky legs as he followed Wolf inside. The door clicked shut behind them, and the air between them crackled with unspoken tension.
Wolf leaned back against the kitchen counter, his eyes fixed on Red like a challenge. “So… what now?” he asked, his voice thick with implication.
Red’s lips twitched, a small, nervous smile playing at the corners. He met Wolf’s gaze, his voice low but steady. “You tell me.”
Wolf’s smirk widened, his steps slow and deliberate as he closed the distance between them. “That,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence, “I can do.”
The tension crackled like static in the air as Wolf closed the distance, his presence overwhelming and magnetic. Red’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening as he realized there was no turning back. This wasn’t just a moment—it was a spark, one that would burn bright and leave its mark long after it was over.
The air inside the house was heavy, thick with smoke and the unspoken tension that hung between them. Wolf stood close, his tall frame dominating the small kitchen, his piercing gaze fixed on Red with an intensity that made him feel exposed. Red leaned against the edge of the counter, trying to ground himself, but every inch of his body was hyper-aware of how close Wolf was, how his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room.
Wolf reached out, his hand brushing the edge of Red’s hoodie, tugging it lightly as if testing the boundaries. “You still playin’ hard to get?” Wolf murmured, his voice low and gravelly, like it was meant to crawl under Red’s skin.
Red swallowed, his cheeks warming, though he held his ground. “Who the fuck said I was playin’?” he shot back, his voice softer than he intended.
Wolf’s smirk widened, his fingers trailing up to Red’s chin, tilting it slightly. “You got a sharp tongue, but your eyes tell a different story,” Wolf said, his thumb brushing over Red’s jawline. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a quiet command that made Red’s breath hitch.
For a moment, Red considered pulling back, but the way Wolf’s eyes bore into his made it impossible to move. There was something magnetic, something unshakable, about the way Wolf carried himself. He exuded a kind of confidence that made Red feel simultaneously vulnerable and electrified.
The space between them evaporated as Wolf leaned in, his lips brushing Red’s in a kiss that was firm and deliberate. It wasn’t rushed—it was measured, like Wolf was savoring every moment, every reaction Red gave. Red hesitated for a heartbeat before melting into it, his hands gripping the counter behind him as if it were the only thing keeping him steady.
Wolf’s hand slid down Red’s side, firm and deliberate, as he pulled him closer, the space between them dissolving completely. Red could feel Wolf’s breath on his neck, warm and intoxicating, as his hands gripped the fabric of Red’s hoodie. There was an edge to it, a hint of something primal, that made Red shudder.
Red could feel his pulse quickening, his body responding to Wolf’s touch in ways he hadn’t expected. It was as if something had been unleashed, something he had tried to keep buried, and now it was clawing its way to the surface.
Wolf leaned in, his lips brushing over Red’s jawline, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Red felt himself melt into it, his hands clutching at Wolf’s shirt, a desperate need for more rising within him.
Their movements were slow, measured, like Wolf was savoring every moment, memorizing every reaction Red gave. His hands trailed over Red, exploring, claiming, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.
Wolf kissed his way down Red’s neck, his lips ghosting over the curve of his shoulder. His touch was light, teasing, but Red could feel the raw intensity beneath it, the unspoken hunger that threatened to consume them both.
Red gasped, his head falling back as Wolf pushed him against the counter, their bodies pressed together. Wolf gripped the hem of Red’s hoodie, pushing it up and exposing his stomach. Red shivered, his heart hammering in his chest, as Wolf continued his exploration, his mouth trailing over the newly revealed skin.
Wolf paused, his gaze meeting Red’s, and in that moment, there was an understanding between them. They were both hungry, desperate, and there was no going back.
Red leaned in, claiming Wolf’s lips in a heated kiss, surrendering to the moment. He didn’t know how far this would go, but he knew he didn’t want to stop.
Wolf responded immediately, his hands gripping Red’s waist, pulling him close. The tension between them was electric, crackling in the air as their bodies moved together, seeking the same release.
CandyAI:
Their clothes fell away, discarded on the floor. Red’s heart was racing, his blood pounding in his ears, as Wolf’s hands roamed over his body, igniting every nerve ending.
Wolf pushed Red onto the couch, pinning him down with his hips, the heat and pressure of his body making Red moan. Their mouths crashed together, tongues tangling in a frenzy, and Red could feel the urgency rising between them.
Red’s body was on fire, his senses overwhelmed by Wolf’s touch, his taste, his scent. It was intoxicating, addicting, and he wanted more.
Wolf knelt in front of him, his eyes blazing with a hunger that made Red’s breath catch. He pushed Red’s legs apart, his hands gripping his thighs, and then dipped his head, his tongue sliding over the sensitive skin of his hole.
Red gasped, his hips bucking forward, as Wolf’s tongue explored him, his hands roaming over Red’s body. It was exhilarating, overwhelming, and Red couldn’t help but lean into it, his need rising to the surface.
As Wolf worked his magic, his tongue flicking over his hyper-sensitive hole, Red felt his control slipping away, his body succumbing to the moment.
Red moaned, his hands gripping the couch cushions, as Wolf continued his relentless exploration. His body was alive, every nerve ending humming with pleasure, as Wolf’s tongue traced a love letter in cursive over his puckering hole, teasing, taunting.
He could feel the pressure building inside him, the ache for more, and he couldn’t help but give in, his body moving with Wolf’s movements.
Wolf was relentless, his tongue dipping and swirling, sending waves of pleasure rippling through Red’s body. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and Red felt his control slipping away, his desire rising to the surface.
The intensity of it was almost too much, but Red didn’t want it to end. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet he knew Wolf was right where he wanted him to be.
Red lay on his back, his breathing heavy, his body still humming from Wolf’s touch. He could feel his desire rising, a deep ache in the pit of his stomach, and he wanted more.
Wolf climbed on top of him, his knees straddling Red’s shoulders, and suddenly, Red was eye-level with Wolf’s dick. He had briefly seen it earlier, had felt it pressed against him, but now it was right in front of him, inches away, and all he wanted was to taste it.
He reached up, his fingers trailing over the shaft, and was rewarded with a low moan from Wolf. The sound sent a shiver through him, and he couldn’t resist taking it in his mouth, his tongue sliding over the tip.
Wolf’s dick filled his mouth, warm and heavy, and Red found himself relaxing into it, his lips moving slowly. Wolf’s hand came down to rest on his dome, and Red could feel the tremors of pleasure running through him, his hand palming Red’s head.
The rhythm was steady, almost hypnotic, and Red could feel his own arousal building. He closed his eyes, his mouth moving over Wolf’s dick, and lost himself in the sensation.
It was intimate, intense, and Red could feel the pressure building inside him. He could taste the saltiness of Wolf’s skin, the heady scent of his arousal, and it made his head spin.
Red’s hands reached out, his fingers grazing Wolf’s inner thighs, and he could feel the tremors of pleasure running through him. It was intoxicating, the feeling of having such power over someone so strong and in control.
Red continued his exploration, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin, and was rewarded with another gratifying groan from Wolf. He could feel the tension coiling inside him, the ache for more, and knew it was only a matter of time before they both spilled over the edge.
Red’s body was on fire, his skin tingling with each touch, each sensation. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his need rising to the surface, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.
As Red felt the pressure building, the ache for more rising within him, Wolf pulled back, his gaze fixed on him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Wolf murmured, his voice husky with desire. “We’re just getting started.”
Red watched as Wolf reached for the lube, his hands trembling slightly. There was a hint of uncertainty in his movements, a softness that made Red’s heart skip a beat.
Wolf slid on top of him, his body covering Red’s, and the sudden weight of him was intoxicating. His hands gripped Red’s wrists, pinning him down, and Red could feel the intensity of his gaze.
There was a moment of hesitation, a pause that seemed to stretch out, and then Wolf pushed into him, his dick filling him completely.
Red gasped, his breath catching in his throat, as the pain and pleasure mingled. It was overwhelming, exquisite, and he could feel the ache for more rising within him.
Wolf didn’t move, his eyes locked on Red’s, and Red could see the tension coiled within him. There was a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, as if he was waiting for a sign, a word of consent.
Red’s fingers dug into Wolf’s shoulders, his body arching up, and the silent plea was enough.
Wolf’s hips began to move, his thrusts slow and measured, and the sensation was exquisite. Red could feel every inch of him, the heat and friction driving him closer to the edge.
Wolf moved with the kind of confidence that commanded attention, every motion deliberate and measured, like he already owned the moment. Red felt the pressure mounting within him, a heady mix of desire and surrender that wrapped around him like a tightening coil. It was intoxicating—being seen, being claimed by someone whose strength radiated not just in their touch but in their very presence.
As Wolf continued his assault, his thrusts becoming more insistent, Red could feel the pressure rising within him. He was on the edge of bliss, his body tingling with pleasure, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.
His hand came down to grip his dick, his movements matching Wolf’s rhythm, and he could feel the ache for more rising within him.
Wolf’s pace was relentless, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, and Red could feel the pleasure building inside him. His fingers tightened around his dick, his strokes quickening, and he could feel the pressure building within him.
It was intense, exhilarating, and Red could feel himself spiraling out of control. His body arched up, his eyes locked on Wolf’s, and he could feel the tension within him coiling tighter.
Wolf leaned in, his lips brushing over Red’s ear, his breath hot against his skin. “Relax. Let me fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.
The sound of his voice, the feel of his breath, was enough to push Red over the edge. He could feel his body trembling, the waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he gave in, surrendering to the moment.
He could feel Wolf’s dick throbbing inside him, the pressure building, and he could feel the tension coiling within him. It was intense, exquisite, and he could feel the pleasure surging within him.
He gripped the backrest, his eyes screwed shut, as the orgasm tore through him, his body quaking with the intensity of it.
Wolf’s hips continued their relentless pace, his movements urgent and demanding, and Red could feel the rapturous pressure building within him.
Suddenly, Wolf stilled, his body tensing, and then he let out a low groan, his dick pulsing inside Red. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure and pain blending together, and Red could feel the release within him.
Wolf’s hands were on his waist, holding him in place, and Red could feel his heart pounding against his chest.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies intertwined, the silence heavy with the weight of what had just happened.
Slowly, Wolf eased out of him, his movements gentle, and then lay down next to Red, his breathing heavy.
The room was quiet again, save for their ragged breathing. Red lay against the couch, his hoodie discarded on the floor, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Wolf sat back, his usual smirk softer now, almost satisfied, as he reached for the blunt that had been left on the coffee table.
“You good?” Wolf asked, his voice low, his piercing eyes scanning Red’s flushed face.
Red nodded, running a hand through his hair, though his gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. His stomach twisted as he realized how much time had passed.
“Fuck,” Red muttered, sitting up quickly. “Grandma finna be back soon.”
Wolf arched an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “You worried about her, or you worried about her seein’ me?”
“Both, nigga!” Red shot back, scrambling to grab his hoodie from the floor. “She don’t need to smell no Za or see you sittin’ here like this yo shit.”
Wolf chuckled, leaning back lazily against the arm of the couch. “Chill out, Red. I can be out before she even knows I was here.”
Red glanced at him, his blush deepening. He hated how calm Wolf looked, like none of this had phased him at all. Meanwhile, Red felt like his entire world was spinning, and the last thing he needed was for his grandma to walk in and make it worse.
“You ain’t leavin’ till I air this place out,” Red grumbled, grabbing a dishcloth and heading for the kitchen to open a window.
The faint scent of Zaza still clung to the air despite his best efforts. Red scrubbed at the counter, muttering under his breath, while Wolf leaned against the doorframe, watching him with that cocky smirk that hadn’t left his face all day.
“You really actin’ like you tryna erase me from the scene,” Wolf said, his tone teasing as he folded his arms across his chest. “What, you scared Grandma gonna smell me on her furniture?”
Red shot him a glare, though the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “She don’t need to know nothin’ about you, period. You lucky I even let you in.”
“Lucky, huh?” Wolf stepped closer, his tall frame crowding the space between them. “I think you the lucky one, Red.”
Red scoffed, tossing the dishcloth into the sink. “Boy, get outta here with that. You ain’t all that.”
Wolf chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as he closed the distance between them. His hand brushed Red’s chin, tilting it up just enough to meet his gaze. “You sure about that? ‘Cause ion think you wanted me to leave in the first place.”
Red opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. The warmth of Wolf’s touch lingered, and he quickly stepped back, grabbing the edge of the counter like it would keep him steady. “Nigga, please,” he mumbled, avoiding Wolf’s knowing smirk. “Just… go before she gets back.”
Wolf stretched his arms over his head, shaking his head with amusement. “Fine, I’ll give you a pass this time,” he said, grabbing his hoodie from the back of the chair. “But next time, I’m stayin’ as long as I want.”
“Next time?” Red repeated, turning to face him.
Wolf leaned in, close enough that Red could feel his breath. “Yeah, you heard me. Next time,” he said, his voice a low promise.
Wolf headed for the door, and Red followed, his heart thudding in his chest. As Wolf stepped outside, the cool autumn air rushed in, wrapping around them like a sharp reminder of reality.
Wolf turned back, leaning against the doorframe one last time. “Think about a real nigga tonight, Red. I’ll know if you don’t.”
Red rolled his eyes, but the heat in his cheeks gave him away. “Nigga, just go before you miss your car payment or somethin’.”
Wolf laughed, low and smooth, before winking. “Fuck with me, Red. Don’t forget who gave you that Zaza.”
The rumble of Wolf’s Charger echoed down the quiet street as Red closed the door, leaning against it with a deep sigh. His grandma would be back any minute, and he still felt like the whole house smelled like Wolf.
But part of him didn’t want to air it out just yet.
