Our story thus far: After a dangerous robbery attempt in which Wes is nearly killed, the bruh and the papi bond even further, and become closer than ever. And soon, they can no longer deny their true feelings for one another. As a result, they become a monogamous couple.

Let’s take a peek at one of their blistering hot “sexcapades,” which takes place right after Thanksgiving dinner at the home of ‘Tonio’s parents. YOWZA.


After dinner, ‘Tonio said, “ C’mon, baybee…lemme show ya my bedroom.” Oh, oh. ‘Tonio had that glazed-over, “sex-me-up” look all up in his eyes. Yo.

I knew what would probably happen, so I said, unceremoniously, “First, I need to go to the bathroom.” (Why I went there will be apparent a little lata.)

Afterwards, we entered his medium-sized bedroom. It remained pretty much the same as he’d left it when he moved out.

I tried playing naïve, coy. I sauntered up to one of the walls, which had a blown up black and white photo of ‘Tonio boxing. “Wow, Papa.” I gushed, “You knocked the hell outta that guy.”

I didn’t hear him utter a word. What I did hear, though, was the lock to the door go “Clickety-click. Click.”

That made me tingle through and through (with heart-palpitating excitement and delicious anticipation), waiting for him to make his move.

And without warning, he did just that. ‘Tonio growled, “Gimme all dat phat culo (ass)…now!” Antonio wasn’t asking or negotiating, he was commanding, demanding. Taking my azz was a foregone conclusion. So, he clutched my firm, round culo, holding on to it for dear life.

Then I felt his hot breath blowing against my ear and his goatee brushing against my neck. All the while, his moist, slick lips, which burned with desire, kissed my neck. And finally, his warm, slippery tongue found a home in my left ear.

I was in sexual overload. “Oh, God, Papa…we can’t do this here…Papa, shouldn’t we wait?”

Of course, I didn’t mean no. And, he knew that my no didn’t mean no. It meant yes. And me calling him Papa over and over again was a clear indication of that. I was being a bit of a tease…and we were both lovin’ it.


Evans/Nothing Can Tear Us Apart 2


“Want me to stop? Is that what ya really want, papito?”

“Of course not, Papa. I want you anytime, anywhere. Just take me Papa. Right here. Right now.”

So again, he ordered, “Well, gimme dat phat culo, then.” And with that, he skillfully unbuttoned my jeans, swiftly yanking them down. Next, he positioned me against the wall.

Quickly, he slid a thick index finger up my bootybutthole. He got an intriguing surprise.

“What the fuck? You’re already lubed up! ‘Sup?” He grinned.

“Yeah, Papa,” I smiled, glancing back at him. “That’s why I went to the john. I had a notion you’d want some.”

Then, his fingers went in and out, and in and up my willing, receptive, thoroughly juiced-up bootyhole. And, the exhilaration was causing me to produce my own “natural lubricant.”

Those probing sensations made my body jerk. It became taut, rigid. ‘Tonio was approaching my prostate, and I felt ready to holla at any juncture.

‘Tonio had me secured against the wall. As he finger fucked me with one hand, the digits on his other beefy, moist mitt tweaked my nips. And with his tongue buried deep in my mouth, I was totally lost in red-hot emotion and sexual abandon.

Papa fitted an extra-large condom over his phat tool. In a few seconds, I felt his bulbous, meaty head graze, and then stretch open my bootyhole. And next, with a slight, firm push, he entered me.

I shuddered. My eyes bulged. At first there was that sting, then that burning sensation.

“Are ya okay, baybee?”

I could barely moan, “Everythang’s aight, sweetheart.” My voice became guttural, lower than low, laced with heat, lust and passion.

And everythang was more than aight. Once the head was in, that good ol’ “pleasure principle” kicked in and was in full-effect mode.

Evans/Nothing Can Tear Us Apart 3


And then, with one solid, straight, fluid thrust, ‘Tonio pumped the rest of his caramel “papadick” all the way in and up my bootyhole. Daymn. I was completely, absolutely, totally filled up. YOWZA.

Now, Papa went about doing his work. He had his humongous muscled legs supporting my slightly bent over body. As well, he’d wrapped his bulging left arm tightly around my waist and had his massive right arm and palm pressed into the wall for leverage.

Soon, his strokes became pounding. And I helped by bucking back and forth against his torso, dragging that caramel papadick deeper and further in me. That drove him mad crazy! And shit! Meanwhile, I was in stone-cold, red-hot delirium.

“Baybee, you belong to me…only me. Don’t you ever forgit dat,” he grunted and groaned, sweat pouring down his face.

“I do…and I won’t, Papa.” Shit. I was in a sex-crazed haze, with no choice but to defer, to agree unequivocally. Besides, after all, I was deliriously in love with this man.

“Oh shit, baybee—I gotta cum!”

“Do it, Papa!” I encouraged him, gripping his dick head with my ass muscles to really send him over the brink.

“Oh, Gawddddddddd!” He quietly groaned.

After he pulled out, I grinned, “I’m gittin’ mine tonite.” To make my point, I squeezed and then slapped his basketballbootyliciousmuscleazz.

Spent and panting, he agreed, “No doubt, baybee. It’s all yours….”