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Brie Gets tha D

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Deon had always liked his best friend’s fiery younger sister, Brie. Ok, maybe more than LIKED her. But Deon valued his friendship with Marcus too much to try anything as kids. Now adults, and in jeans that made his mouth water, Brie showed up on his doorstep looking as sweet and sexy as can be, Deon knew his desire for her was stronger than ever. He had to have Brie. Would she let him? — Brie had known Deon forever, mainly because he’d been her secret crush almost as long as he’d been Marcus’s best friend. But she was no longer the shy, tongue-tied kid sister. Brie was grown now and completely over wanting D… or so she thought until she found herself single, alone with him, and losing a battle against his hot, lingering gaze. Now, maybe it was the sensual courage of the weed they’ve been smoking, or the responses her body seemed to give his, but one thing seemed certain: Brie was gonna get tha D. original work by me. © All rights reserved.

Erotica / Romance
Nikki Noire
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Brie leaned her cheek against the steel she’d just knocked on. It felt cool against her skin. She heard the locks being undone on the other side and pulled her cheek away. The door slid open.


“Hey D-D-Deon.”

Brie wiped at her eyes and tried to gather herself. She thought her brother would’ve answered the door. In hindsight, she realized it was silly not to have expected Deon, her brother’s best friend and roommate, to open the door too. Deon and her brother, Marcus, had met their first year of high school and been A1’s from day one. He’d brought Deon to the house two months before Brie’s tenth birthday and never left. He had become a member of their family.

Deon’s eyes crinkled in concern. “Brie? What happened?”

He looked past her, trying to figure out if her pain was behind her. He ushered her in and closed the door behind them. He crossed his arms and gave her a quizzical look.

“Brie. Say something please. Did something happen with… homeboy?”

Brie yanked on the sleeves of her hoodie, extending them over her fingers. She seemed focused on the task as she nodded.

“I had to end it. It wasn’t—it needed to end.”

She rubbed roughly at her eyes to catch her unending stream of tears. She looked towards the stairs.

“Is Marcus upstairs?”

“He’s away at a conference.”

Her shoulders drooped. Brie was trying to show a brave face, but she really needed older brother love.

“Talk to me. I know I’m not Marcus, but I promise you, his advice is basically from me. I taught him everything he knows.”

She cut her eye at him skeptically.

Deon feigned hurt and clutched his hand to his chest. “You know what? Normally I’d kick you out and go to my room so that I could cry and play my ‘unbreak my heart’ playlist... but I’m gonna push my pain aside and be there for you.” He bowed his head towards her. “You’re welcome.”

She stared at him, the words flowing past her lips effortlessly. “Why you such a fool?”

“Only you say fool. Ladies think I’m charming.”

Deon rubbed his hands together and licked his lips like he was slow mo’ing in a music video. Brie didn’t want to, but a smile peeked out. She completely ignored the tingle that danced down her arm at his lip licking.

“You’re sooo foolish, Deon.”

“Foolish enough for you to stay? Smoke a lil ting? I restocked on my way home and got one of them sticky party pre-rolls.”

Brie paused. If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back home. Her roommate had a friend over for the night. She didn’t know if she had the strength to be there, especially with this time usually being when a person makes toxic decisions. Like calling an ex. Or letting him come by and having ex sex that you regret immediately after.

“Ok. Yeah.”

Pulling her hoodie off her head, she did a quick head shake, like a dog shaking water of their fur. Her curls sprang to life, the epitome of happy at no longer being confined. They bounced around until they settled into a soft fro around her heart shaped face. Deon turned to tell her a joke, but the view of her hair drifting into place made him pause. He knew beauty wasn’t the only reason to be with a woman. Still, a woman as beautiful as Brie should never have to cry over heartbreak.

“Fuck him, Brie. Dead ass,” he whispered and moved to stand in front of her.

“You and yuh ‘dead ass’,” she mumbled, more to herself than in response.

Deon’s eyes roamed slowly over her face, long enough for a tiny lump to lodge at the back of Brie’s throat. She tried to swallow around it while refusing to catch his gaze. Her belly fluttered and her clit pulsed. He wrapped her in a hug. Warmth crept up the back of Brie’s arms as his frame enveloped her.

“It’s gonna be ok, Brie.”

His voice brushed her neck, and Brie’s clit began a low drum solo. Her breath caught in her throat, but Brie pushed all her emerging nasty thoughts out of her mind. Would she love to climb Deon’s dark-skinned, god-like goodness? She laughed to herself as she thought of that Donald Glover meme: uhh. Dot. Dot. Dot. YES!

Her mind and pussy were in perfect unison on wanting Deon. But Deon only saw her as a surrogate baby sister. He never gave Brie a reason to think otherwise. For most of Brie’s young life, Deon had been her secret crush. He had always been nice to her, whether at school or at her home. He would knock on her door every time he came over. They only spoke of two subjects, really—French movies and anime—and it wasn’t for very long. But the fact that he took the time to talk to her, even for a few minutes, had made her feel special. It hadn’t taken her tween heart long to worship him. Eventually, Brie had gotten over her childish fantasies of getting with Deon. But sometimes, there were rare moments like this when she remembered how physically attracted she was to him. Of course, Deon’s ebony-skinned frame didn’t help either. He wore a simple white tee and basketball shorts. His locs looked fresh, like he’d gotten them done recently, along with a line-up.

Brie was a confident woman, but she hadn’t always been that way. Marcus’s little sister used to feel like a colossally awkward nerd around boys. It took her a while to find her stride. Still, Brie wouldn’t easily risk Deon’s rejection, followed by the humiliation she’d feel every time she saw him at BBQs, family gatherings, or birthday parties for their mutual godson, and Marcus’s son, Isaiah.

“You hungry?”

Her belly twisted and she felt a sweet pressure on her clit at his seemingly dirty words. She could eat, she thought with a smirk. Her mouth watered thinking of sucking on him, devouring hi—

“Devouring what?”


“You whispered something about ‘devouring’?”

Brie broke the hug and ducked her head to conceal the embarrassing heat flushing her face.

“Devouring… pizza.”


“Yeah, lemme order and you go get that pre-roll. It’s the only reason I’m staying.” Brie pulled her phone out, tapping away intently.

Deon laughed. “Fine.” He walked towards the stairs. “Don’t forget wings,” he added over his shoulder.


“It feels so stupid to say but I can’t believe I’m single again.”

Brie spoke around the smoke billowing from her mouth. They were sitting on the couch in the living room. They were on opposite ends with snacks between them. The lights were dim. On the TV were aerial shots of the earth from space. Music was streaming from speakers set up around the room. Brie’s legs were tucked under her. She lit the pre-roll again, inhaled and closed her eyes. Her body leaned back, easing into the warmth of the leather.

Deon hummed along to the song. He always hummed when he was feeling good. She and Marcus used to tease him about it especially since Deon was incredibly off-key.

Do you think he hums when he cums?

Brie stiffened. A mental image of him grabbing her waist and making her moan with deep, slow strokes made her sit up. Where had that thought come from? Feeling breathless, she willed her mind to stop thinking about Deon sexually.

“The thing is,” Deon reached for the pre-roll and inhaled. “There’s nothing wrong with being single. Especially for black women.” He dug his free hand into the purple, glass blown bowl of popcorn and M&M’s. His feet, propped up on an ottoman, tapped together as he continued to talk and smoke.

“Black women are so self sufficient! You don’t need anyone but yourselves. Be single. Enjoy you!” Deon let out full clouds of smoke with his last words.

“Oh, shut the fuck up with all that!” Brie shoved a handful of the popcorn mix into her mouth, responding hotly. “You… saying… because… dude and you have the privilege to say that!”

“I’m sorry, what? What was that?”

He pulled the bowl away from Brie and cupped an exaggerated hand by his ear. Brie scowled at him, refusing to let her laughter poke through.

“Did you have a point around all that food in your mouth?”

“Shut up! What I was saying was…”

What I was saying was…” mimicked Deon.

She opened her mouth and closed it. “You know what? Never mind! Forget it.”

“Nah, finish.”


She made a popping sound and turned her head away from him. He only saw smoke occasionally float up. Deon poked her a couple times. Being ticklish, she bristled at each poke.

“Stop poking me! I will… hurt…” Brie was losing her battle at stifling her laughter. “Stop it, Deon… DEON! SAMURAI!”

Deon instantly stopped poking her.

“No fair!”

He cut his eye at her and leaned back into his spot on the couch. They had agreed upon that word after an extremely heated exchange his first Thanksgiving back after going to college. He had seen himself as older and therefore wiser about everything. Before he knew it, she had turned the tables and poked holes in his weak, sexist attitude. All he could do was stare at the little girl that had become a highly intelligent and opinionated young woman. The min she had him, Deon had had no choice but to concede. He’d chosen his own punishment, deciding to let her choose a word that would let him know when he was being an ass.

“I should’ve never let you choose the word. I swear you don’t use it right.”

“How? You was being an ass making fun of me with food in my mouth. Case closed.” She smugly stood and did a victory dance to the current song playing.

“Remember when you and Marcus would have dance offs?”

Brie narrowed her eyes. “You mean when I would triumphantly beat my brother in dance offs?” She stood and did a Superman pose. “Why yes! Yes, I do!”

She did a few moves to prove her undefeated reign. Deon egged her on as she tried to piece together steps from past dance battles. Soon, they were both collapsed in laughter on the couch.

“Please! Stop! I’m getting a cramp!” Brie grabbed her side. As she leaned across the couch arm, trying to stretch out her cramp, one of her favourite songs played on the speakers. She squealed.

“I loooovvveee this song!”

She hopped back up and wined her waist. Sliding her eyes closed, Brie let the beat take over her body. She placed her hands on her knees and twirled her hips. Her tongue stuck out and her head turned to look back at it. Her eyes slowly lifted open. The first thing she saw was Deon staring back at her. His look was… lustful. It was in his eyes, his lips… and growing between his legs from the faint outline of an imprint on his shorts. Brie averted her eyes and made her movements slower. She ran her hands up and down her thighs. She thought she heard Deon clear his throat followed by the springs on the couch shifting.

“You want something to drink? We got juice. Soda. I think ginger ale too. Wait, I forgot we ordered food… Where dafuq is it?”

Deon ranted faintly in the background about the pizza place, but she kept dancing. Her thoughts were still on his look. He had watched her move like she was manna from heaven. And maybe it was the weed in her system. Or maybe she was just heartbroken and horny. But that look made her chest swell with hope. She hadn’t realized that hope had even existed till now. But Brie wanted Deon. Her body had been sending her signals and, from that one long look, she felt Deon’s signals too Tonight, she was gonna get what she wanted. That D.




Deon pushed his brown, sun-kissed dreads back. His eyes rolled upward in ecstasy at cheesy, doughy goodness. The food had been delivered moments before. Getting plates and napkins, they had spread out a blanket and made a picnic on the living room floor. They sat on either side of their spread and leaned against the couch.

“You have a little sauce on the side of your mouth.”

“I do? Where?”

Brie motioned her thumb to indicate she’d get it for him. Deon leaned over, but instead of cleaning the sauce, she wiped a streak of marinara sauce on his face nonchalantly.

“There.” She smiled and turned back to her pizza.

Deon frowned. “You really gonna leave me like this? You wrong.”

“Looks fine to me.”

She shrugged and continued eating. Deon stuck his tongue out and lapped at the marinara sauce. Brie watched his actions out of the corner of her eye. She felt herself getting wet. I blame the weed, she thought, it must be strong!... Then again, strong weed equals intense af orgasms. She bit her lip, hoping her thoughts weren’t written across her expression. Deon fixed his dreads atop his head. When he was done, he turned to Brie and noticed the odd look on her face.

“Something wrong? Why you staring at me like that? I swear if you put more sauce on my face, we fighting!”

So much for hiding my thoughts, she thought. She felt a fearful flutter in her chest. Brie wanted to fan away her nerves but instead, she felt herself move the blanket so the food would be out of reach. She then crawled over to Deon. He didn’t move. His gaze was confusion, and then astonishment, as Brie slowly swung her thigh across him and straddled his lap. She leaned her forehead against his. Deon almost didn’t hear her next words because the sound of his pounding heart was deafening.

“I want you to eat my pussy, Deon. I want you to feast on me. I want you to make me moan incoherent things.” Her head wobbled slightly as she felt a light dizziness from her high. Brie placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“I want your hands under my ass. I want to-to beg you to stop and, you don’t. I know I keep saying ‘I want’ and that it’s selfish. And I do want to please you. But it has been so long since someone wanted me, loved on me.” Her eyes focused on his lips, making her lick her own. “Fuck me, D. Right now.”

The moment Brie had swung those thick thighs across him, Deon had barely heard a word she said. He was too busy thinking non-sexual thoughts so he wouldn’t get hard: locker rooms, Swiss cheese. But what she just said? How am I supposed to have any resolve against that? he thought. He leaned back to see her face clearly just as Brie raised her face to kiss him. It took Deon a moment for his brain to register that those soft looking lips were pressed against his. If he had had any resolve, it was gone now. He grabbed her face and kissed her deeper.

Brie already felt electricity coursing through her sitting on top of Deon. But the moan flowing from his mouth into hers made her nipples erect. He exhaled her name, and she shivered greedily, licking him between kisses. Deon took his time teasing her lips, making her tongue dart out to play with his. His hands travelled up and down her back while his mouth treated her neck like it was his essence for being. Brie had never been kissed like a worshipped goddess. His kisses felt Puncheon-infused. She braced her hands on the back of his neck, shivering from sexual intoxication. His hands were trailing fires across her skin, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d looked down and her clothes were scorched clean off. Deon pulled back and she whimpered at their lips breaking contact. He chuckled and rubbed her cheeks.

“Brie, look at me.”

He held her face until she opened her eyes. God, she looks so fucking sexy. He was about to say something smooth, but seeing her like this—lips swollen, eyelids heavy with lust and weed, hips rocking on him—he let his words spill out.

“Brie, I’ve dreamed of licking your pussy. I’ve wondered about how sweet you taste. I’ve wondered about what it’s like to be deep inside you, making you squirt. I can’t count the daydreams and wet nights that I thought of making you say my name.” Rubbing her cheeks, his voice dropped an octave.

“Good thing your brother ain’t here.”

Brie was mesmerized with D’s hands on her face; his deep voice; his black coffee eyes. When her weed-filled brain finally processed what he said, she went right back to kissing on him. His large hands slid up and down her arms as she nibbled and sucked on his bottom lip. He thrusted against her. Brie felt how hard she’d made him and brushed herself against it. Deon’s hands had her twisting and turning on his lap. He turned her head and sucked her earlobe. The “fuck” she emitted made his hardness push even further against his restrictive shorts. He didn’t understand how his hands felt greedy to touch her. He wanted every part of her, all at once. He went from grabbing her thigh to caressing her breasts to squeezing her ass. His hands were insatiable and possessed like a vampire with its first prey.

But this wasn’t prey. This was Brie.

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