Blackie
- 1 year ago
- 14
- 0
Black free porn video
It was fucking cold. The wind whipped around the city mercilessly, snatching foliage from vulnerable trees and leaving garbage cans scattered in its wake. Fall came abruptly this year in Philadelphia. Only last week the temperature had been in the sixties, allowing the city’s residents the option to go sleeveless. Now everyone wore jackets, whether they liked it or not.
Ace slipped his rough, tattooed fingers around the cup of hot water he had just purchased and slipped out of the local bodega. Like everyone else, he was unprepared for the quick drop in temperature. Not a tea drinker, he’d ordered a cup and refused the generic tea bag before Mr. Bautista slipped it inside. The liquid warmed his cool fingertips instantly, leaving them with a tingling sensation. His alertness was second nature, a learned habit apparent by the easy way he scanned his surroundings as he walked toward Fifth Street. Ace’s phone vibrated in his pocket with urgency, but he ignored it. It wasn’t until the third series of tremors that he fished the BlackBerry out of his pocket.
‘Yes?’
‘You need to start answering your phone, I hate when you do that shit,’ An annoyed male voice scolded. It was obvious from the unusually deep and raspy tone that this guy had just greeted the sun.
‘I hate when you drawl like a bitch, but there’s nothing I can do about that either. What’s the deal, man?’
Ace slipped his hood over his low cut and changed direction as he spoke to his best friendÑhis only friend. He knew without question that the early morning call was out of necessity, so his instincts took over and lead him towards Imar’s house. He wondered if Imar’s mother was home. If she were, his visit would either disturb her sleep or grind her gears. She didn’t approve of her son having him for a friend and made no attempts to hide that fact from Imar. She was a classy lady, though, Ace acknowledged that. Miss Graham was nothing but cordial to him when he was around. She offered him juice or breakfast and asked how his family was doing– to which he always smiled and declined to answer. Afterward, she would give Imar a knowing glance and lecture him about his choice of friends. It was a fifteen-year-old tradition.
His smooth, tan fingers danced on the keypad, dialing Imar as he climbed the front steps that lead to the porch.
‘You outside? Its open.’
‘Nah, come out. I don’t want to get her started.’
‘Its only me and Iverlei here. Stop being a bitch and come inside.’
His butter colored construction boots crossed the threshold, meeting the black carpet. The faint scent of jasmine and the lines in the carpet revealed that it had just been vacuumed. The small row home was immaculately clean and modestly decorated. Ace’s phone vibrated quickly. Text message.
Upstairs Papi.
He trod the stairs quietly and entered the room in the center of the hall. Sparse plumes of marijuana smoke wafted around the space, eventually trailing towards the open window. Imar stood bare-chested and clad in plaid boxers that peeked over basketball shorts, padding the ash from end of his joint into a glass ashtray. His smooth, caramel skin still glistened with beads of water from the shower. Damp, shoulder-length dreadlocks were held in place by a black elastic band that was almost invisible amongst the neatly wound hair. Imar wrapped his pink lips around the joint and pulled before releasing smoke from his mouth, then sucking it up his nose like a vacuum.
‘Smoking before class? You the worst,’ Ace chided, taking a seat on the neatly made full-sized bed.
‘I’m going to a recitation, its not even lecture. I’m high during the lecture sometimes too, though. But yo, I called you over to ask you something serious. You know I wouldn’t even fuck with your schedule like that.’
Imar peered out of the blinds, a pensive look on his face. He put his hand out, extending the joint.
‘I figured.’
Ace took it between his thumb and forefinger and took a pull only an experienced stoner could handle. He had been smoking weed since he was eleven. Ace was the one who influenced Imar to take up the craft.
‘Are you messing with those South Philly heads?’
‘I do my shit solo, y tu sabes. Something making you worry?’
‘I overheard one of them getting riled up about ‘some Puerto Rican.’ They seemed like they was on that jealous shit, and you- I know you handle yourself, but I know you’re doing well, too-‘
Ace smirked, ‘You know how many rice and beans-eating motherfuckers in this city, Imar? I know what’s going on, and it doesn’t concern me. I know you’re in love with me you fucking fag, but you don’t need to worry.’
‘They were talking about bodying this bull. You know who..?’
‘Yeah, I know who.’
Imar’s face almost turned sullen. He took a pull and decided to head to the closet to find something to put on for the day.
‘He deserves it?’
‘That’s not my place to say, I’m no God. He crossed a line, though.’
‘Nobody deserves that shit, Ace. Nobody,’ Imar quipped, more aggressively than Ace expected. He leaned over and handed the statuesque figure on his bed the joint before sliding into a pinstriped button down.
A rap at the door pulled Ace from his musings. He pointed and mouthed Iverlei?
Imar nodded and responded with an annoyed, ‘Yes?’
‘I’m making break-‘ The soft voice paused. The door creaked as it opened slightly. A woman’s oval head appeared between the door and its frame, surrounded by wet, inky black hair. She appeared surprised to see Ace sitting on the bed, holding half of a fat joint. Her pink lips, identical in thickness and tone to her brother’s, formed a slight smile.
‘Hey. Um, Imar? I’m making myself breakfast, do you want anything?’
‘Toast,’ he grumbled. ‘Thanks.’
‘Yeah.’
Ace gazed into her inky black eyes unabashedly, watching as they darted guardedly between her brother and himself. He caught a glimpse of her bare shoulder. A droplet of water beaded down from the tips of her soft, spongy coils. He swallowed, aware of the taut feeling in the bottom of his stomach. His stomach grumbled. Loud.
‘I’ll put some toast in for you, too.’
She slipped out as quickly as she came, knowing that he would not gratify her with a response.
‘Fuck him, he can go buy a breakfast hoagie or something. I bought that bread,’ Imar joked, grabbing a pair of jeans and socks.
‘Keep your bread, I was just leaving.’
Ace stood, walking to the door in an almost trans-like state. He skipped stairs on the descent, not bothering to say goodbye to the man he considered a friend, or his sister. Well, he didn’t intend to.
‘I just put in your toast.’
He stopped at the door, his curious hazel eyes turning to meet Iverlei’s gaze. Her wide, doe eyes were the color of the darkest coal, and glistened like glossy marbles. She wore an oversized community service tee shirt that was damp in places, clinging to her soft brown thighs. She was short in stature, almost a full foot smaller than him. Ace wet his bottom lip with his tongue unconsciously.
‘Not hungry.’
Ace was a mystery to Iverlei. His tall, slightly muscular figure was ever-present in her life but she knew little to nothing about him. He was about 23. Of Puerto Rican and Nigerian descent. A naturalized citizen, but she was unsure where he was born. He spoke the Pidgin English of the Nigerians as well as he did Spanish. He went to school with her brother and graduated a few years ahead of him. He was from the Badlands originally, the predominately Latino section of North Philadelphia. She was unsure of where he lived now, but Iverlei knew it was close because of how quickly he came over after Imar’s calls. He drove an old, black Expedition. He was beyond sexy. Although she could rarely recall seeing him with women, she had frequently heard gossip and stories about chicks fucking with him. He had quite
the reputation.
‘You’re a bad liar. Come?’
There was something about the soft manner that she said the word ‘come’ that weakened his resolve. Although he decided not to leave before his toast, Ace stood firm, refusing to come into the kitchen. Iverlei smiled softly, turned, and walked to the kitchen. Ace turned his head instead of staring, but mental pictures of her wet hair invaded his mind. Unlike a lot of the girls in the city, Ivy didn’t straighten her hair with heat or products. In its natural state, it was extremely coily and dense with a fluffy texture. It was woolen, with the tiniest spirals at the ends of each strand. She was a different kind of girl, and her hair was just the surface.
Ace would watch her come home from school, always alone. In skinny jeans, a simple camisole and Chuck Taylors or Nike Dunks most of the time, with an oversized backpack slung over her shoulders. She would go to her room, isolating herself from the rest of the world. The smooth sounds of some obscure music artist would waft out of her closed door not too long after.
‘Here. Have a good day, okay?’
Iverlei handed him the pieces of buttered toast wrapped in a paper towel. He took them gratefully, his eyes lingering on her gaze a bit too long. She stared at the tiny cross tattoo below the corner of his bright eyes. His wet lips. Her nipples strained against the tee shirt, causing her to cross her arms over them.
She’s just a baby, Ace mused as he pulled the doorknob. Body is grown, his unconscious replied, flooding his thoughts with pictures of her soft, brown flesh tangled in his moss green sheets. They would compliment her tone. He wondered if her body would accommodate him. Whether she was a screamer or a crier. Maybe she purred. Maybe she was a ‘gripper’, one of the girls who could force their pelvic muscles to contract around his girth, holding him in place. That drove him insane. He sighed, releasing his thoughts with a breath. This was not the first time he had thought about Ivy in the biblical sense. No harm, he thought. He knew that he would not act on his thoughts. She was a good girl who deserved a good guy. A college guy like her brother. Maybe a pretty frat boy. Or one of those radical, intellectual Afrocentrics who would call her his Isis or Auset. Yeah, she would dig that.
He took off towards the street, steeling his mind and preparing for a day of the roughest kind of work.
Sherry
- 25.04.2022
- 9
- 0
