"Damn. Is it Christmas already?" Onika joked, surveying the room full of boxes of designer clothes and handbags. Lauren had even gotten jewelry.
"More like a regular Friday." Cassie returned. "Lo, who's your fetus friend?"
Onika made a face.
"This...
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any (song) names/persons mentioned in this story. This is a fictitious representation of events. Uses are for entertainment purposes only.
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December 8th, 2015 - 9:03am - 389 McKinley Rd - Hampton, VA
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As soon as Onika made it home she all but tore the dress off her body and climbed straight into bed in her underwear. The wine had made her horny and sleepy and since she couldn't take care of her former problem she chose to focus on the latter.
The spare room was beautiful. Definitely designed for a girl, or a princess rather. There was wall to wall sheepskin carpeting, a vanity of her own, a massive mounted TV similar to Lauren's, and adorably decorated love seats.
She let out a soft moan at the feeling of the Egyptian cotton against her bare skin and was asleep within ten minutes.
Onika dreamed of a tornado that night. One that ripped through her home, destroying everything she ever cared about and she was helpless to stop it. In her dream Meek was there to console her and help rebuild her life. She held him closer as she cried in her dream and unknowingly snuggled next to the warm body in her bed.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck and felt soft fingers rub up and down her back before settling just above her ass. She shuddered at the feeling, letting out a soft whimper and threw her leg over what she presumed to be Meeks hip. The body shifted to accommodate her fully, pulling her into their arms where her head rested comfortably on their chest. The hand left her back and nestled itself in her head of curls as the other hand raked it's nails softly up and down her thigh.
Onika moaned then, withering under the subtle ministrations of such skilled fingers. She rocked her body slightly as the hand inched higher and higher up her thigh. This displaced her head a bit more where she felt the unmistakably soft flesh of another woman's breasts—and caught a strong whiff of the distinct scent of Chanel Mademoiselle.
Onika's eyes shot up open as she lifted her head.
"Jesus! What the fuck?!" She jumped back hard, almost clear to the other side of the bed, snatching the sheet and pulling it up over her bra. "What are you doing here?"
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