#njobu fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 21

Summary: Prince N’Jobu meets King T’Chaka’s future new wife first...and his 9-year-old son Erik meets a bit of his mother Califia’s past back in Oakland...

"You make me feel like a natural man, yeah (A natural woman)

You don't even gotta waste time

It's just natural, romantic, yeah

And we don't gotta take it slowly

You could break my body, baby

You're all that I need, yeah

Perfect for me, yeah (perfect for me, yeah)

You're gonna make me feel like I never felt

And fall like I never fell

Care like we never cared

And love like we never will…"

Desire B & Marnino Toussaint – "Never Will"

Umama sat and watched N'Jobu as he ate a full breakfast. The sunroom was filled with fresh flowers from the royal garden and the overwhelming spread of gourmet foods before him actually made him miss the simple breakfasts with his woman and son back home.

Home.

His real home. Califia and Erik. They were his center.

"You are very quiet this morning," Baba said, staring at N'Jobu.

"He just arrived in the middle of the night. Jet lag, my son?" Umama said as she patted his hand.

N'Jobu felt the curious eyes of T'Challa and W'Kabi on him as the boys helped themselves to seconds and thirds of sliced fruit and sweet breads. T'Chaka was equally quiet, but N'Jobu sensed that he was waiting to speak more openly once they were alone.

"I am tired, but I will be fine," N'Jobu said picking up wild honey plum slices to add to the pieces of pineapple already on his plate.

Umama glanced over at T'Chaka.

"We will be attending the Ti'Azan Gallery opening tonight," Umama said. Her tone alone let N'Jobu know something was up.

"I am looking forward to seeing the new artwork coming out of Djata," Baba said.

N'Jobu watched his parents tiptoe up to their real reason for bringing up the gallery opening. They were so obvious that N'Jobu quickly popped a piece of honey plum in his mouth to keep from laughing at them.

T'Chaka sliced into his grilled pork breakfast medallions on his full plate.

"I am too. I hear that Matsimela's daughter will be accompanying him tonight," Umama said.

T'Chaka put down his utensils and stared at his parents with a slight smirk on his mouth.

"Stop it, you two," T'Chaka said.

T'Challa giggled and N'Jobu let a wide smile crease his lips.

"I hear that she is no longer training Dora Milaje recruits—"

"Umama, please. Enough. I know what you are trying to do. I will go to this gallery opening, and I will meet this woman. Is everyone satisfied now?" T'Chaka said.

"Ramonda, her name is Ramonda," Umama said.

"Is she nice?" T'Challa asked.

"Very nice, and she loves children—" Umama said.

"Umama—" T'Chaka said, his face looking defeated.

"I too look forward to meeting Matsimela's daughter," N'Jobu said, trying to rub it in.

"Perhaps you should be looking for a wife of your own, Brother," T'Chaka said. N'Jobu couldn't tell if his brother was being serious or not.

"My work would make that difficult—"

"I am thinking of changing some things. Boys, it looks like you are both done eating. Please excuse yourselves so we can speak privately," T'Chaka said.

Disappointment on their faces, the boys said their goodbyes and left the sunroom. T'Chaka waited a few minutes and then looked N'Jobu in the eye.

"What changes?" N'Jobu said doing his best to make his voice calm and nonchalant.

"Moving some war dogs around, bringing some back home permanently."

Acid churned in N'Jobu's stomach. He wanted to drink the water next to his plate, but he was afraid that his hand would shake if he did so.

"Why?" N'Jobu asked.

"New eyes, new patterns of intel gathering…besides, Umama misses you and I need you to fulfill your true role as my Ambassador. Therefore, it is time for you to return home, take your place as our representative in the world, and get married."

"Yes, I agree. It is your duty now son to be with us again," Umama said.

"I strongly disagree with that plan," N'Jobu said.

Silence.

He had to think of something to say to deflect and convince them all otherwise. He was not expecting this. And Bast help him, surely his brother wasn't planning on him staying there now. Califia and Erik's face flashed in his mind. He felt his forehead crease and his jaw tighten. He told his family not to worry. Told them he would return to them. If they kept him there, if his brother insisted that he stay, he would have to escape from the country, go AWOL, maybe even move Erik and Califia out of Oakland—

"Hopefully you have a reasonable timetable for switching out war dogs. I feel that any sudden changes would cause suspicion—"

"I have already begun the process."

"My intel has been very fruitful and I am embedded in that community fully. If I am removed—"

"All will be handled with a smooth transition. Your Intel has been fruitful and very important. But I need you here with me. Our people love you and I believe your presence here at home can help me turn the tide of dissent."

"There was a vid special about T'Challa turning twelve and they played the old recording of you singing to Bathwandwa when she was carrying him. The social chatter about you lit up the public for weeks, N'Jobu. Our people want to see you more, and your positive popularity crosses all political quadrants. You being here and standing by your brother's side could help all of our people," Baba said.

"This is true," T'Chaka said.

His people.

N'Jobu tried not to show any consternation in his being, but he no longer felt connected to Wakandan people anymore. His people were out there in the world.

"As it stands, Baby Brother, Ambassador Obi tells me he shall retire at the end of this next term and he is willing to start a transition team for you within the next two years. So, continue to do your work well for me, and tonight, let us see what wives Umama has picked out for us this time."

Umama laughed, but when she saw N'Jobu's face, she touched his hand again.

"I should…I should go get some rest. I feel a bit drained, and I need to be ready for tonight," N'Jobu said standing up suddenly and gripping the dining table with his hand to hold his balance.

Two years.

He had two fucking years left to do what he needed to do.

###

"Take your time, JaJa…there you go…there you go…."

Califia pressed the gas pedal of her car gently so that her vehicle moved slowly. Erik sat on her lap turning the steering wheel. They were in their own townhouse complex parking structure. There had been rain earlier in the day, but as the evening came down, there was only a slight drizzle, and no one was outside because of it.

"Not so fast, Mom!"

"I'm not going fast, we're barely moving!"

She held his waist as his hands clung to the steering wheel nervously trying to straighten out the front tires.

"Turn a little harder," she said. When her hands went up to help him, he leaned forward.

"I got it! I got it! Let me do it!"

They both started giggling as he made a wide turn back into their parking section.

"Let's see if you can park it," she said giving the car a little more gas.

"I can," he said.

"You got it, baby," she whispered as he guided the car into their parking space. She put the hatchback in park and pulled the emergency break up.

Erik leaned back into her and she kissed his cheek.

"You did it," she said.

Erik hopped out of the car and she followed him.

It was a good day for them and she was ready for a shower and some dinner.

"Don't forget to bring down your bag of Goodwill stuff. Grandpop is going to pick it up tomorrow when comes over to fix the toilet."

The downstairs bathroom toilet kept running after each flush and her father refused to let her call a plumber when he could fix it himself. He was worried about their income since she wasn't working.

She walked into her bedroom and lifted the bag of clothes she was donating from off of her bed and placed it onto the floor near the bedroom door.

Her laptop was on the bed and she flipped it on. She checked for messages from N'Jobu and was happy to see a taped face chat link. Before she could open it, N'Jobu was already online sending a private chat link to her. He must've been on his computer and waiting for her to log in.

She ran to her bureau mirror and checked her hair and face. Once she felt she looked decent enough for him, after rolling a bit of tinted lip gloss on, she hopped back on her bed and opened his link.

"Baby," she said, "Wow, look at you."

N'Jobu was dressed in an elaborate dark suit with a colorful gold scarf draped over one shoulder. His hair was freshly cut and he had diamond earrings studded in his ears. And those amazing gold slugs were back on his teeth. Moments like this reminded her that her man was royalty and when he was with his people, he showed up and showed the fuck out. Jesus, he was still so fine. She felt herself swooning.

"Califia."

"Huh?" she said.

"You okay?"

"It's you. I mean, damn N'Jobu."

"I'm going to an art show. Not my idea of fun without you," he said.

Art shows. Fancy meals. Servants. Chauffeurs. Bodyguards. High Society.

And here she was going through old clothes to donate and trying to figure out what to fix for her and Erik to eat in less than twenty minutes and hoping their toilet didn't overflow until her father could fix it.

"You look gorgeous. I'm jealous."

"How was your day today?"

"Good. Erik and I cleaned out our closets for Goodwill. We visited Rolita and her mother. Oh, my father is coming over to fix the toilet tomorrow. It started running—"

"Mom!"

Erik's distraught voice startled Califia. N'Jobu's face was full of alarm. She stood up and saw Erik standing in her bedroom doorway.

"What's wrong?"

He stepped forward and her eyes swept his body looking for an injury or something. All he had in his hands was a yellow t-shirt. He held it out to her.

"Oh, JaJa…come here, come here…"

She held her arms out for him.

"What is it?" N'Jobu asked, his face full of worry.

She pulled Erik onto the bed and let him rest his head on her lap. He was crying and Califia held up the t-shirt for N'Jobu to see.

"JaJa," N'Jobu whispered when he saw Lia's face on the old political t-shirt Erik loved so much. He must've gone through his closet again to check for old things he didn't want and found the garment. He had been doing so well. Seeing her face unraveled him.

"Son, look at me. Look at me," N'Jobu said.

Erik shifted his head on Califia's lap and she rubbed his back to calm him. N'Jobu stared at his little boy.

"She's still with you. She's still here with us. Let her have those tears for a little while…then show her how you will carry her within you. Okay?"

She felt Erik nodding his head but a pitiful moaning sound was coming from his mouth and she felt herself beginning to lose it.

BeStrongBeStrongBeStrong…..

"Baba, my chest hurts so bad," Erik said.

"I know. I know. That pain takes time to go away, and Lia doesn't want you to hurt like that for her."

"I want you to come home!"

The high-pitched wailing from his little chest made Califia feel so small without N'Jobu there with them.

"I want to be home with you too. But Baba has to work so I can take care of you and Mom. You have school tomorrow, so you'll be busy…and what about the chess club? Do you think you want to join…?"

The mundane talk of school eased Erik's breathing, and once N'Jobu had him talking about choices of high school and online courses for the following year, their son had stopped crying and sat up from her lap. N'Jobu even had him laughing about his favorite anime and Califia felt her body ease into a relaxed state.

"Feeling better?" N'Jobu asked Erik.

"Yeah," Erik said.

"I'll keep this and you can watch some tv until I fix dinner, okay?" Califia said.

"Okay. Bye, Baba."

"Bye, JaJa."

Erik stepped off of their bed and left the bedroom. Califia heard him head down the stairs. She looked back at N'Jobu and took a deep breath.

"That was rough," she said.

"It will come and go," he said.

She looked at his suit again and reached out to touch his face on the screen.

"I better go cook us dinner. Babe…you really look amazing."

N'Jobu stared at her and in that moment, she felt what he was thinking and it made her feel desired and loved. She broke eye contact with him and just looked at his clothes again.

"I will be offline for a few days. I just wanted to check in with you."

She nodded and saw him look over his shoulder.

"I better get going," he said.

"Okay."

His screen went dark.

Califia sat for a few minutes, quietly centering herself before she went downstairs to cook for herself and Erik.

###

The gallery was packed.

Once word spread that Prince N'Jobu was in the city, many favors were called in for people who desired to attend the opening to see him.

N'Jobu spent most of his time near his parents, escorting his mother whenever his father was hemmed up by supporters and friends. He took one moment alone to grab a glass of honey wine and to check out a small mixed media painting hidden behind a floating wall. The art piece in front of him was intriguing, a depiction of Warrior Falls that shifted its design perspective depending on where one stood. Looking at it from the middle, it looked like the Falls at midday. But if one walked past it from left to right, the sunlight moved as if it were a time-lapse of morning to night. Clever. He glanced down at the name of the artist on the title card underneath it.

"Interesting piece, is it not Prince N'Jobu?"

N'Jobu glanced to his right and noticed the svelte figure of a dark brown-skinned woman with short stylish locs swept to one side of her head. Kohl-lined eyes that reminded him of Califia's feline gaze peered back at him intently. Several thin silver choker necklaces encircled her throat. Her eggplant-colored strapless gown revealed shapely shoulders and the bone-white corset that cinched her waist drew his eye to the high shelf curve of her backside. Great Bast. Who was this?

"It is an engaging depiction of Warrior Falls," he said allowing his eyes to drift back to the art on the wall. The woman's direct gaze without the usual deference accorded him because of his status caught him off guard. He was accustomed to citizens fawning over him if they found themselves in his presence. This woman stood there as if he should know who she was. No automatic bowing or standing back from him, no "Your Highness," or "I shall leave you be."

She stood right next to him. Crept up on him in a stealth-like fashion. He stepped forward to re-claim his ownership of the space, but she stepped forward too and moved a little closer to him.

The hell?

He glanced at her again and then he tapped his kimoyo bead discreetly. Within seconds, Yejide stood near him.

"Your Highness?" Yejide said.

"Yejide!" the woman said rushing forward and embracing the Dora.

Now wait just a damn minute, N'Jobu thought as the woman brushed past him as if Yejide were the most important person in the world.

"Lady Ramonda!" Yejide said, standing stiffly, trying to stay on her task of assisting her Prince, but clearly excited to see….

Ramonda.

Oh, so this was the woman his parents wanted his brother to meet. A possible future Queen.

N'Jobu really stared at her now.

"Do not worry about him, I promise no harm will befall your charge," Ramonda said winking her eye at N'Jobu. He couldn't help by smile at her lack of deference now. She really didn't give a care that he was royalty.

"So, you are the Ramonda—" N'Jobu started to say, stepping forward to get a more proper introduction, but she turned her back on him and linked arms with Yejide pulling her aside, ignoring N'Jobu completely.

"How are you, sister? I have been hearing glowing reports about your work in the palace," Ramonda said.

Poor Yejide let her eyes focus on N'Jobu. He held up his hands freeing her to interact with the assertive woman.

"I am well, Lady Ramonda—"

"Is Ometeko still paired with you?"

"Yes…Your Highness?"

N'Jobu smiled and motioned for Yejide to leave them alone. Yejide bowed, gave Ramonda a look, and pivoted her legs in a severe military turn to refocus herself on her job.

"I remember when she first tried out to be a Dora. So timid. I was not so keen on keeping her in the ranks. But look at her now," Ramonda said as she turned on her heel to face N'Jobu again. She must've read something in his face because she smiled coyly and finally lowered her head to him, "I hope she has earned your respect, Your Highness."

"She and Ometeko, both. Lady Ramonda, is it?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Lady Ramonda Nkoli," she said.

"Daughter of Matsimela," he said.

"Yes."

Ramonda's eyes went back to the art on the wall.

"Did you notice the bit of detail on the waterfall?" she said moving closer to the painting and pointing to a spot near the top.

N'Jobu moved forward to see what she was talking about.

"It shimmers," he said as he looked at the mica flakes embedded in the blue of the water on the piece. His eyes met hers again and he found himself becoming more enchanted with her. All he knew about her was that she had been a Dora for his mother years ago while he was away in London for undergrad studies. She rose in ranks and was hand-picked to leave the Dora Milaje in direct action and to become a trainer for future Doras.

A server wandered into the area with fresh glasses of honey wine and Ramonda grabbed one and N'Jobu replaced his with a fresh one.

"Here's to interesting art," he said clinking his glass with hers.

"And to interesting people," she replied.

At that moment he realized she was flirting with him. Bast help him. All the disregard for protocol made sense now. Did she not know why she was really brought to this opening?

"I am going to check out the sculptures now. Please excuse me," he said moving past her.

"Do you mind if I come with you? I have not had the opportunity to see the sculptures myself. I have been hiding out here from my parents," she said.

For the first time, N'Jobu saw uncertainty in her eyes.

"Why are you hiding out?" he asked.

"I thought I was here to enjoy the art, but my parents…they are trying to set me up…introducing me to someone, and I am not in the mood to pretend like I am interested tonight. Do you mind being my buffer? Just for a little while?"

Now he was really taken in by her. She had no clue what was happening to her, and she unknowingly wanted him to keep her away from some random dude that happened to be his brother. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he grinned instead.

"I suppose I could assist you. You do not know anything about the man your parents have fixed you up with?"

"They have been trying to marry me off for years, and I keep telling them to let me be on that topic. But what I can I do?"

"Follow me," he said turning away from her.

He kept two steps ahead of her as she tried her best to walk next to him. Yejide followed them and when they reached the hall of sculptures, he got stuck for a few minutes greeting some dignitaries, and then he was able to move into the space.

He walked with Ramonda, always keeping ahead of her, and he could tell this bugged her until she caught on that he expected her to stay in her place when interacting with him. She finally got the hint that she was not on his level and he noticed that she made sure to stay at least two body lengths away from him and not shoulder to shoulder.

She was very critical of the sculptures, but the ones she did like, he liked them too. She had a sharp eye for detail and once they began talking about certain pieces, he learned that she was also a sculptor and almost went into art full time before she became a Dora Milaje. They talked and walked and after a time he had to ask her a question.

"Why did you leave the corps?" he asked, curious to know why she removed herself from that career.

"I missed being out in the field. When I worked for the Queen Mother, she always told me I should train up the Doras to be like me. That was such a high compliment. I loved working for her, and I was very happy training future Doras. But now…I actually would like to take a break and explore art again. I rented a small house near the Jabari mountains that I want to convert into a studio. However, I have to muddle through this thing with my parents. I made an agreement with them. They allow me a year of peace to sculpt without judgment of my life choices, and I would go on a few meet and greets with suitable men."

"You are not interested in marriage?" he asked.

"I am. But I would like to take this time to work with my hands in creative ways again. Not just teaching the Doras how to break necks in the most efficient way possible."

N'Jobu laughed out loud, and Ramonda smiled wide. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners when she did, and her lips made her mouth look inviting. How many hearts had she broken when she became a Dora and dedicated her life to the throne? He wondered.

"What are you looking for in a partner?" he asked.

She rattled off a litany of the usual things most people wanted, and somehow the topic switched to food and then politics and then art again. She was delightful and didn't back down from her convictions, especially when it came to opinions about T'Chaka. She didn't even care that she was speaking to the brother of the King. Her biggest judgment was that she felt that T'Chaka kept himself too far apart from their people. His way of ruling was impersonal and off-putting because he separated himself from society.

She was right.

Her eyes studied his face, and he felt himself becoming uncomfortable being alone with her in the section of the sculpture space they were in.

"I need to return to my parents. Shall I escort you to yours?" he said.

She looked disappointed. Her smile faded.

"I thank you for sharing your knowledge of the work here. I wish you success with your own artistic endeavors…"

Yejide stepped forward, and N'Jobu began to feel awkward trying to get away from Ramonda. It was a weird feeling. He wanted to hang with her because she was interesting and had unique insights on how the new art coming out of Birnin Djata really reflected the state of their country, but at the same time, this was to be his brother's possible courtship dance, and Ramonda was acting like N'Jobu had just broken up with her.

"I am sure the man your parents would like for you to meet here will keep you entertained."

Ramonda shrugged her shoulders.

"Hopefully he will be as gracious and as enjoyable as you, Your Highness," she said.

"I doubt that very much, but he can sure try," N'Jobu said getting her to smile again.

"Too bad he is not you," she said as her eyes caught a look at something behind him.

N'Jobu turned to see his brother walking up to them with an older couple along with his own mother.

"Ramonda, daughter, come and greet the Queen Mother, and King T'Chaka," the older woman said.

Ramonda's eyes grew wide, and she glanced back at N'Jobu again.

"Trust me, he is not as gracious or as enjoyable as me. But he will not bore you, Lady Ramonda," N'Jobu said.

"Lady Ramonda," T'Chaka said, reaching for Ramonda's hand.

N'Jobu heard the slight turn of pitch in his brother's voice. Ramonda was not what he expected. As his brother kissed Ramonda's hand, N'Jobu could tell that T'Chaka was smitten already. His eyes were glued to her face. Their mother looked pleased. Like the cat that snared the canary.

N'Jobu greeted Ramonda's parents and then he excused himself. His eyes sought out Ramonda's one last time before leaving. They were still bewitching eyes, her expression letting him know that she was not in a million years expecting anyone like this. And something else was there too.

Disappointment again.

###

Califia stood by the sound system and watched her class of dancers execute her choreography just short of perfection. It was Saturday and she felt a ripple of pleasure course through her body as she enjoyed the feeling of sweat and movement on her own body.

Dante stood in the corner uncovering his drum with his drum corps as they waited for her session to end so that his beginning capoeira class could begin.

"One last time y'all, from the top. Get it in!" Califia yelled as the dancers got into formation again. She saw Erik hanging near his grandfather watching, his right foot tapping in time to the massive beats that rattled the floor.

Califia slid her feet over to him shaking her hips, drawing his eyes to her face as she held out her hands encouraging him to join her. He shook his head while looking away from her and she pranced in front of him doing one of his signature moves that made him laugh.

Dante started warming up his drum. Joining in time to the music on the sound system. The bells hanging above the front door jangled and James walked in carrying his drum bag. Whenever N'Jobu was gone for a period of time, James was always there, watching over them. Dante convinced him to start drumming on Saturdays and James came faithfully, improving his technique.

The music really started rocking when the rest of the drummers joined Dante in playing and Erik finally eased in front of her following her steps. The two of them danced together in sync and James pulled out his cell to tape them.

"Go Erik, go Erik, go Erik…" the class chanted and her son leveled up his moves.

"Whatchu got little boy, huh?" she challenged and Erik stopped and bent his left knee, placing his hands on it and just letting his right-side move, popping his booty out, imitating the girls in the class.

The drums thundered and Califia spun around grabbing Erik's hands and pulling him closer to her.

"Aye, from the top again!" Califia yelled to the class as Dante walked over with his drum strapped to his waist and standing in front of Califia and Erik. The rhythmic hip hop beats flowed easily with the drumming as she danced next to Erik in front of the mirrors. Everybody that moved in the space was on point and when they reached the end of the choreo, Califia cartwheeled into a handstand and then swiped her legs around Erik.

Dante placed his drum on the floor and slid into the action, and Erik stepped back allowing his grandfather to play with Califia too, the three of them twisting and turning, their bodies bending and jumping. James moved in closer with his cell.

"Erik, say hi to your Dad so I can send him this," James called out.

Erik waved at the phone and Califia lifted him up from behind and Erik dissolved into peals of laughter as she twirled him like he was a carousel.

"Califia," James called to her and she looked at his phone and crossed her eyes while sticking out her tongue.

"Hey, babe," she said to the cell.

James turned his phone camera back on his face.

"JoJo, she was saying that to you, not me," James said.

The door bells jangled again and Califia put Erik down when she saw who walked in. He was a bit leaner and his hair was longer, but those deep-set eyes looked the same as when she first saw them when she was fifteen.

"Cedric," she said. Confusion prickled her face and she moved over to the sound system turning off the music.

"Thanks, everyone," she said clapping her hands and walking over to Cedric. The class scattered as the transition from one session to the next began.

"Hey," she said feeling awkward, especially in front of Erik who was watching Cedric curiously. Cedric stepped into her personal space and held out his hands for a hug, and she gave him one, making sure not to act overly familiar with him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Had a layover, decided to see if this place was still here—"

"Mom," Erik said handing her bottled water and standing right next to her.

Cedric looked at Erik when he heard "Mom" and a smile appeared on his face.

"Hey there, what's your name?" Cedric asked.

"What's yours?" Erik tossed back.

Califia stared at her boy and Cedric chuckled.

"Fair enough. I'm Cedric," he said holding out his hand.

"Erik," her son said shaking the man's hand.

"Strong grip young man," Cedric said.

Erik looked up at her face and Califia could really sense the internal interrogation going in Erik's head.

A layover in Oakland? She didn't believe that for one minute.

"How long is your layover?"

"Just a few hours. Just took a chance and…well here you are."

"Hi," Dante said sticking out his hand toward Cedric, "I'm Dante, her father."

"How's it going, sir? I know Califia from Martha's Vineyard. Grew up with Bakari."

"Yeah…oh, yeah, okay. Glad to meet you. Excuse me, I have a class to start. Califia, I can get Eugene to do the drum for me."

"Erik, do you mind helping Grandpop while I talk?" Califia said.

She could tell Erik didn't want to, more interested in this strange man talking to her. She wondered if his father told him to act like this while he was gone.

"Erik?" she said again and her son stepped away from her and reached for Dante's drum on the floor and moved it back with the other drummers.

Califia had Cedric follow her to a back section that had folding chairs set up. They seated themselves and Cedric surveyed the space. He looked back at her as Dante's students trickled in and began warming up on the floor.

"So…motherhood really agrees with you, Cali. You look great," he said.

"A little heavier," she said touching her stomach.

"It fits you," he said as his eyes glossed over her short leggings and tank top.

"I saw you and your son tearing it up through the window. That was pretty cool."

Cedric's eyes went to her naked ring finger and then glanced over at Erik again.

"Yeah, he's a great kid. Takes after his Dad a lot, so the two of them together can be a little crazy," she said letting him know Erik's father was in the picture.

"I just wanted to see you again. You don't really do personal social media, but I saw the website for here, and so…you know…"

She looked at his left hand and saw a wedding band.

"Married, huh?"

"Divorcing."

"Sorry to hear that."

"You?"

"I'm with Erik's Dad. Going strong," she said.

"I have two daughters and a son," he said.

"Oh, wow. You've been busy," she said laughing, "Pictures?"

He pulled out his phone and showed a family photo. Good-looking children. His wife…ex-wife, looked how she always imagined the woman he would end up with would look like. Conservative and perfectly coiffed hair. Good make-up. Body still trim. Children miniature versions of them both. Classy and safe. The oldest girl looked to be about seven.

"You keep up with Albert?" she said.

"He's still single. Has a son with a woman in Maryland."

Califia watched Erik keep the lead drum beat in place of her. They watched her father lead his class in basic moves.

She wondered if Cedric came looking for her to see if he could get next to her again since he was divorcing. She kept her personal stuff off of social media for N'Jobu's sake. The things she did have online were private and open to only a tiny number of people.

"Can I take you and your son out to eat?"

She had to admit she was curious about him. Curious about the goings on back in Oak Bluffs.

Free food for her and Erik and a distraction from missing N'Jobu.

Why not?

###

"But if Godzilla is a replicant and can regenerate whenever he wants to, why would they stay on the planet? They can't kill him, so why not go to a new planet?"

Cedric looked confused and starving for the answer to his question. Erik twirled his fork in his hand and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because it's the only planet that can sustain life and they lost all their tech and can't rebuild their ship," Erik said.

Califia savored the French onion soup she ate along with her ribeye steak. Erik enjoyed a gourmet hamburger with sweet potato fries along with Cedric who ordered the same thing. Erik had been a little stand-offish with Cedric as he sat between them, but once Cedric mentioned that his daughter was into the new Godzilla animated series, Erik's eyes perked up and they discussed the show non-stop.

"But if the monster planet has the resources to create metal and a lot of their housing, why couldn't they re-build their ship too?"

"I don't write the show, I just watch it," Erik said and Cedric burst out laughing making Erik smile.

Cedric glanced at Califia, and she just shook her head.

"I need to use the restroom," Erik said.

Califia scooted over and allowed him to leave.

"Is he okay by himself?" Cedric said.

"Trust me, no one is going to snatch up my son if they know what's best for them. Thank you for asking though."

"This is nice," he said.

"It was good hearing about folks back east, Thank you for this meal too."

"Erik is…Erik is really sharp. His vocabulary and the way he thinks…school must be a breeze for him."

"He doesn't attend a traditional school for most days. He starts high school next year."

"High school? Holy shit. At 9?"

"Yep. It's a struggle keeping him grounded. His mind and ideas are so far beyond what traditional schools can do for him. He'll probably start college when he's twelve. His father and I are trying to figure out how to balance it out. It's hard keeping up with him sometimes."

"My eyes did glaze over a bit when he was talking about his science experiments at home when we were driving over. Half the time I didn't even know what he was talking about. Tetrach…tetris dee…parrodox?"

"Tetrachlorodibenzoparadioxin. Don't let it scare you. It's the chemical toxin made from wood burning. He's trying to figure out a way to clean the air when we get all these wildfires in California every year."

"Well, my kids are trying to figure out how to dress themselves neatly on their own. Yay."

Califia chuckled.

"Trust me, Erik is still a little kid himself in a lot of ways."

"I always wondered what a child from you would be like. It's you, but extra helpings."

They laughed together.

Erik returned with his own cell phone stuck to his ear. When he approached the table, he handed his phone to Califia.

"It's Baba," Erik said.

Califia's face froze.

"Could you excuse me for a moment? Erik, finish your food."

Califia moved from the table grabbing her purse and walking into the restaurant lobby. She glanced at her phone in her purse and saw that she missed three calls and a private face chat from N'Jobu. Erik probably blabbed about their meal with Cedric. She took a breath and tried to sound cheery.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Cedric?"

"Yeah. He had a layover and came around to the studio and saw us there. He's treating us to dinner before he goes back to his wife and kids."

She could've said home or family, but she wanted to soothe her man because she already knew his mind was racing in the wrong direction.

"Everything good on your end?" she said glancing over to their dinner table. Erik was chatting with Cedric and Cedric had a big grin on his face while listening.

"How long is his layover?"

His voice was tight. Dammit. They hadn't spoken in two weeks, Just emails and pre-recorded video messages.

"He has to leave within the next hour."

"Face chat me on our private line when you get home."

'N'Jobu, don't trip."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice."

"He just shows up out of the blue?"

"He had a layover and remembered the studio—"

"He's not Bakari or Soliel, or one of your college buddies from way back—"

"We're just having dinner and catching up. I knew him as a kid. We know the same people I grew up with—"

"You had a relationship with him. A sexual one. I'm never going to look at him like he's just an old homeboy."

"Ohmigod, is this going to be a big deal? Is it? Let me know now so I can hang up. I would think you would be happy to hear my voice and know that I am doing well. Getting out of the house and doing things with Erik. Who is doing great by the way. But since you are so worried about old dick—"

"Alright, alright. Chill—"

"You chill. Why are you so uptight? What did Erik tell you?"

"He said your old boyfriend took you two out for dinner."

"Old boyfriend? How did he know that? Did you tell him that?"

"No, so he must've picked up on something between you two that was pretty obvious—"

"All we are doing is talking and eating. He's telling me about his children, I'm telling him about Erik and you."

Silence.

She rubbed the side of her neck. Together for almost ten years as a family, and this man could still make her feel guilty for no reason.

"Finish your meal and get back to me when you can," he said.

Her jaw clenched.

"Califia?"

"Okay."

She hung up on him.

###

Umama was really pulling out all the stops for Ramonda.

An elaborate dinner outside on the moon observation deck high above the palace. The best wines from the family wine vault. The entire Udaku royal family decked out in clothing reserved for state functions. Two council elders in attendance.

N'Jobu ate his food and tried his best to appear pleasant, but he was upset. When Califia didn't answer her phone the previous day, he went to his go-to number which was his son. He caught Erik washing his hands in the bathroom with a video chat.

"Where are you?" N'Jobu had asked not recognizing the facilities.

"Mom's old boyfriend is treating us to dinner."

Erik said it so easily that N'Jobu thought he misheard for a second. Who the fuck was feeding his wife and son at a fancy restaurant?

Erik spilled the beans, describing the man, saying his name, and giving his keen observational skills. When Califia denied telling Erik the extent of her relationship with Cedric, N'Jobu wondered what they had done to tip Erik off to something sexual in nature to make him conclude that Cedric was more than a simple old friend.

When she hung up on him, he let his anger and resentment settle and he searched deep within to figure out what upset him so much. She said the man was married and had children. He had to take into account that he was once engaged to Zinzi, had sexual contact with her, and they were still good friends and he saw her once a year back home. Cedric hadn't been around for ten years. N'Jobu suspected that something was amiss in Cedric's marriage to make him go out of his way to see Califia. N'Jobu could only remember that horrible moment a long time ago when he sought out his woman and he saw her screwing Cedric hard inside their home. Screwing her like she was the breath Cedric needed to survive in the world. Saw that man's dick thrusting into his love and she liked it.

He could feel his body yearning for Califia in that terrible way it did whenever he was in Wakanda. And knowing that other man was in her vicinity, eating with his own child no less, it made N'Jobu rigid and ready to fight.

He concentrated on his brother.

T'Chaka was charming and funny and for a pleasant moment, he was almost his old self, acting the way he did when Bathwandwa was alive. Ramonda was drawing his good qualities back out. It had only been two weeks, but N'Jobu knew that his brother was in love. Ramonda cut the King no slack, and she didn't mince words if she disagreed with T'Chaka, and this made Umama smile so hard.

Although he didn't know Ramonda well, he could tell that she was liking T'Chaka. Maybe more than just like him.

The first dinner she had been invited to at the palace, with her parents in attendance, she had cornered him during the after-dinner libations and punched him in his arm.

"You knew everything," she said.

"I did, but I didn't know it was you until you harassed me."

"Harassed you?"

"All up in my face. Not giving me peace to contemplate art by myself," he teased. Those sharp eyes of hers made him feel strange again.

"I was so embarrassed," she whispered, "you were making fun of me."

"I was not!"

"Lower your voice," she hissed.

He lowered it, "I was minding my business…wait, why am I lowering my voice in my own home?!"

Ramonda rolled her eyes at him and left him standing with a glass of port in his hand. T'Chaka had glanced their way and N'Jobu decided to check in with him. His brother's eyes questioned the private conversation between himself and Ramonda.

"Your intended is angry with me," N'Jobu said.

"My intended? We are simply in the preliminary—"

"Stop. This is me, your brother. I know you. You are taken with her. Just pick a date and let us end this tiresome charade."

Ramonda walked over to them.

"Welcome back Queen Ram—"

T'Chaka thrust his elbow into N'Jobu's side, and N'Jobu felt a bit of wind get knocked out of him before he could get all his words out.

"I hope the dinner was satisfactory," T'Chaka said, and N'Jobu stood there enjoying the tinge of desperation in his brother's voice trying to impress Ramonda.

"It was wonderful, Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me and my parents. My mother wants the recipe for the pheasant crepes."

"And she shall have it," T'Chaka said.

Dear Bast, this was painful for N'Jobu to watch.

"What is wrong with your face?" Ramonda asked.

N'Jobu glanced at his brother first then looked at Ramonda.

"Nothing is wrong with my face—"

"You look like you are in pain," she said.

"I think Umama would like to see me…" N'Jobu said looking for an out.

"No one is looking for you," she said.

"Then I will look for someone," he said.

"Did your brother tell you how he made fun of me?" she said.

T'Chaka glared at N'Jobu.

"Hey…" N'Jobu said.

"Shall I have him arrested for you? I can place him in isolation from the fireworks if you would like."

"Fireworks?" She questioned.

A loud explosion erupted from outside and T'Chaka held out his elbow for her.

"Right on time," T'Chaka said as Ramonda took his arm.

"Thank Bast," N'Jobu said and Ramonda flipped him off without looking as N'Jobu walked behind the two of them.

"Ramonda!"

Ramonda's mother's voice called out from clear across the room.

"Sorry, Mother," Ramonda said.

N'Jobu grinned and Ramonda stuck her tongue out at him making him laugh.

This woman.

She could very well save T'Chaka.

Everyone congregated on the observation deck balcony and watched the fireworks that burst in fiery rainbows of color over the city.

"Are you celebrating something?" Ramonda asked T'Chaka.

"You," T'Chaka said, and Ramonda's eyes became coquettish. Had N'Jobu and the others not been present he was positive his brother would've kissed her.

The blossoming romance right before him made N'Jobu miss his Califia and his son. They should be there with them all watching the extravagant light show that was only happening because his brother was beholden to a woman that could probably bring him to his knees. N'Jobu knew that feeling well and welcomed it. Wholeheartedly.

"Prince N'Jobu."

N'Jobu glanced across the table and saw Ramonda's cousin Allem staring at him.

"Yes?" he said to the woman. Allem's full lips were stained red like the wine they drinking.

"Will you be attending the Star Light Ball this year?" she asked.

"I will be there," he said trying to remember the reason why Ramonda's cousin was there. Oh yes, a potential mate for him. Two more weeks and he could get on a plane and jet home. Hopefully.

Allem looked thrilled that he said he was attending the ball. He skipped it the previous year but felt it was best to go this year to stay the obedient younger Prince. Play his role until he could be away from the palace.

His kimoyo beads lit up. The signature was from Jax.

N'Jobu sent a quick message that he would meet his boys at Quantum, the new private bar outside of Djata. He needed a break.

When the formal dinner was over, N'Jobu left the guests and fled as discreetly as he could to his suite. He dressed down in jeans and a plain designer pull over, then hit a private chat line to try and catch his woman. She had ignored his apology texts and just let Erik touch base with him after their dinner with Cedric. Califia didn't answer, so he checked Erik's line. His son was connected. He made small talk, discussed school but then he seized the moment to pump information out of Erik.

"JaJa, what made you say that Cedric was Mom's old boyfriend?"

"I could tell."

"How?"

"I just could."

"Be specific."

The face chat they had was private, Erik was in his room and Califia was downstairs watching tv.

"Are you upset about this, Baba?"

"No. I'm just curious how you could figure that out without your Mom or I telling you that information."

Erik stared at N'Jobu for a moment.

"You don't like Cedric," Erik said.

"I don't know him. I have never met him."

Awkward silence. Erik was feeling out the situation, and even five thousand miles away, his boy could tell the truth. His eyes broke away from N'Jobu's.

"His voice," Erik said.

"His voice?"

"And his eyes."

"Help me understand, JaJa. Really, I'm just curious."

"He looked at Mom and talked to her the way you do. And you love Mom. So I knew he loved Mom too before he had a wife and kids."

N'Jobu gave a deep sigh.

"Baba," Erik said, his eyes contemplative and a bit guarded.

"Yes, my Son."

"Mom didn't talk to him or look at him the way she does with you."

N'Jobu gave his son a wide smile.

There was a knock on Erik's door. Califia walked in. When she saw N'Jobu's face she stopped moving.

N'Jobu felt his heart open up for her.

"Hey," she said, her eyes glancing at Erik.

N'Jobu held his hands under his suite desk and shot off a quick message to Jax that he would be late joining him.

"Can I tell you both a story?" he asked.

Erik's eyes lit up and N'Jobu watched Califia's body language.

"Sure," she said when she saw how eager Erik was.

N'Jobu needed to tell her in the stories of his people how he was feeling. He could tell she didn't want to have a private talk with him, but he wanted to connect with them both.

Erik picked up his laptop and carried it over to his bed. It was almost the afternoon there and a Sunday. Perfect. Sunday was always their family day of rest.

Califia crawled on the bed next to Erik and he watched their son lean back into her.

"I want to tell you the story of Entabeni and Sekmet. It is how a God from one world traveled across the heavens and saw his great love, a Goddess from another world, and did whatever he could to be with her, no matter what. And despite the fact that he was a jealous God, stubborn, quick to make assumptions…a ridiculous deity really, his heart was in the right place and needed to be with her for eternity."

Califia gave him a sly look.

"Baba, you're not good at disguising this story. You're talkin' about you and Mom," Erik said.

"Am I?"

"It's so obvious," Erik said crossing his arms.

"I am quite sure that this is an ancient story I heard from my own Baba when I was your age. Hmmm. Maybe I should choose another one-?"

"No, we want to hear this one!" Erik said glancing up at Califia.

"Yes, we want to hear this story," Califia said leaning her head back against the headboard.

Erik's eyes looked deep into his mother's and then he scooted his face closer to the laptop screen.

"Baba…"

"Yes, JaJa," N'Jobu said.

"Mom has that look in her eyes and that sound in her voice. The way you do it."

Califia looked at both of them confused.

"That is good, my Son. Very good."

He spun the tale for them. And his heart eased. No worries about Cedric. No worries about T'Chaka keeping him in Wakanda. No worries about what he had to accomplish while he was in his home country to secure a cache of vibranium.

At this moment, his very own Sekmet made him whole and kept him in her world. That was all that mattered.

Chapter 22 HERE.

#prince njobu #black panther #black boys bloom thorns first #blackpanther #erik kilmonger #erik stevens #Prince njobu smut #njobu smut #marvel cinematic universe #njobu #killmonger #erik killmonger #black panther smut #njobu fanfic #njobu fanfiction #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2

Volume 2 Summary: 

Califia Stevens and N'Jobu Udaku have been separated by an ocean and three years. Living their lives apart, they discovered new things about themselves and the people who surround them. Becoming a War Dog, N'Jobu forfeits the pampered life planned for him in Birnin Zana and the palace while seeking to create a life of his own with the woman he fell in love with. The birth of his son Erik N'Jadaka Stevens complicates his allegiance to Wakanda as he tries to live with his new family hidden in plain sight within Oakland, California. Caring for a secret family and spying for his nation proves difficult.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31 Finale

Okay, you made it to the end of Volume 2! Yay, and thank you for reading! Just in case you didn’t know, my Black Panther fics are interconnected. Volume 3 is linked below (It is still in progress), however, that volume starts with Erik at M.I.T and will end when he ends up in Wakanda. There is a book before that follows Erik with Tony Stark when he’s 19. “Stark’s New Intern”. There are also two shorter fics that follow Erik when he’s 21 and 22 during his time on vacation from M.I.T., “Forty-Seven G” and “Say Less”.

With all that being said, I would suggest that you read my “Wet Sugar” (Erik is in his 30s) next if you haven’t. A lot of what you read in Vol. 1 & 2 of BBBTF come back into play in that book and it follows how Erik met Klaue and did him in! Happy reading, and thanks for hanging out in my Pantherverse.

You can find “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 1″ Here.

You can find “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3″ Here.

#njobu #princenjobu #black panther #black panther fanfic #black panther fanfiction #killmonger #erik killmonger's daddy and mama #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger #erik killmonger imagine #Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Vol. 2

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 18

"See she's telepathic Call it black girl magic Yeah she scares the gov'ment Deja Vu of Tubman

We go missing by the hundreds Ain't nobody checkin for us Ain't nobody checkin for us…"

"Blk Girl Soldier" – Jamila Woods

The morning is a whirlwind of activity and excitement.

Negra Lia and her entire family had a catered breakfast at her parent's house near the polling site where the family would cast their votes. N'Jobu watched Erik prance around in his new t-shirt and new black khakis. Califia untwisted his hair and let him rock a 'fro to match hers. Erik was a Mama's boy, and N'Jobu couldn't fault him for it. Especially when your mother was a badass.

A priest from the local church came by the house and gave Lia a blessing prior to everyone tucking into the gourmet breakfast. A TV played in the background and everyone caught the news coverage of polling stations having long lines. Lia had captured the imagination of the young, Black, disenfranchised, working poor, and the queer community. Although it was just the city council, N'Jobu sensed that the people in the community saw Lia as their champion, that perhaps with her unapologetic Blackness and her support for them and their needs, that real change was a possibility. She was a local girl who made good. City council was just the start. The energy pouring out in the streets and on TV was just the beginning of a new day in Sao Paulo politics. Axiel and other supporters were sponsoring carpools to help get people in the favelas to their polling places. Lia looked happy but also worried. When she stepped outside to get some air, N'Jobu followed her.

"How are you holding up?" he asked while sipping on orange juice.

Lia's eyes were coal black, the eyes of someone who could take the world by the throat and shift it on its axis. Her hair was wrapped in a yellow headwrap and the shade of raisin brown lipstick she wore complimented her glowing skin.

"I'm feeling the pressure," she said.

"You have this on lock," he said.

"I don't want to disappoint them if I don't win. They all have their hopes and dreams pinned to me, and I can't fail them again," she said. For the first time, her eyes looked vulnerable and unsure. He moved closer to her.

"No matter what, you have inspired the people around you to strive for more power to help themselves. All these young people…they are on fire."

"I hope they can carry on and stay invested in politics if this doesn't go the way they want."

"They will."

Lia gave a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

"The problem we have is waiting for some great savior to come down and fix everything. There can't be one leader. There have to be many, in all communities…when we put our hopes into one person we often get into trouble."

"What would you like to see happen?"

Lia glanced out at the street and clasped her hands in front of her thighs.

"Black strongholds all over the world. Many leaders…many women…. running communities and connecting together, sharing ideas on what works and doesn't work to help us move forward as a people. Less in-fighting and power grabbing or even clout chasing…."

She spoke in Portuguese for a second to find the right English word and then she stared at N'Jobu.

"I want heaven on earth for all of us right now. No more struggling just to survive. We need to thrive and flourish. All of us in the diaspora…on the continent from where we came from too. Free education, free healthcare, affordable housing for all…prison reform and then abolition. Transformative justice. That is my dream…no, those are my goals."

"Big goals."

She smiled and tapped her head.

"Ah, but if we put our mind to it, we can do it. I just have to play my part. Right now, city council…next time something bigger."

She shook her hands with nervous energy. "We should go to the polls now," she said.

N'Jobu took her hand and squeezed it. He spoke to her in Wakandan and her eyes glanced at his lips for a second when she heard him give a click with his tongue.

"What did you say?"

"I'll tell you after you win," he teased. She gave him a playful tap on his shoulder and he followed her back inside the house.

"Are we ready to leave?" She asked everyone inside. Her boyfriend Oscar grabbed his car keys and everyone divided up into the car groupings they would go in over to the polls. N'Jobu and his family were riding with Lia's parents in their minivan. Their small caravan pulled out and N'Jobu could feel Erik's excited energy as he sat next to him. Califia chatted with Lia's parents and N'Jobu watched the scenery out of the car window.

"Mom told me you have to leave early," Erik said. They were sitting in the back of the mini-van.

"I do."

"Why?"

"Some things came up at work and I have to solve some problems there."

Erik's eyes went to his beads.

"Mom looked sad when she told me. Are you guys okay?"

N'Jobu was taken aback by his question.

"What made you ask that?"

He shrugged.

"Mom looks happy most of the time, but this morning she kept looking at you and…I dunno…she looked kinda sad. Did you have a fight last night, Baba?"

N'Jobu glanced up toward the front of the minivan. Califia and Lia's parents were busy speaking loud Portuguese and ignoring the back of the car.

"No. We didn't have a fight. She is sad that I can't go to the museum with you on Friday. She likes us all being together and she doesn't want me to miss Aunt Lia winning."

Erik smiled.

"Auntie Lia is going to be a President one day."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Erik's nose scrunched up as he thought about the question. He looked like Califia at that moment.

"A computer designer and programmer with my own company. Or an architect."

"Hmmm, I thought maybe you might want to be an archeologist or a scientist—"

"Oh yeah, those too."

N'Jobu rubbed his son's head. His brilliant little boy.

"You can be whatever you want to be, my Son."

The minivan pulled into the parking lot of an elementary school. N'Jobu saw that the line to vote wrapped around the building. He slipped on his dark glasses and pulled a baseball cap on his head. There was a news crew waiting by the entrance. N'Jobu hung back behind the reporters and out of the way, blending in with the background. Two male news reporters thrust mics in front of Lia's face, cameras bright and close.

N'Jobu didn't know what they were saying, but he was sure it had to be about her casting her vote and her hopes for the outcome. Califia and Erik stood to the side with Marisol and Aunjanue.

Lia's parents, Soliel, and her friends stood in line to cast their support and Lia herself was filmed being escorted into the polling booth directly so she could vote. It didn't take her long to go inside the private booth and make her choices. When she came out, she flashed the peace sign on both hands and the crowd of people waiting in line clapped. Lia walked to the end of the line to join her family. Califia left Erik with Aunjanue and Marisol and sauntered over to the background where he was standing and watching. She clasped her hand in his.

"This is it," she said.

He nodded.

"Oscar said he can give you a ride to the airport tomorrow."

N'Jobu put his arm around her and pulled her in tight so that she was against his chest. He kissed her forehead.

"Lia is lucky to have you rooting in her corner. I saw all the work you put into helping her campaign. Organizing the young people, working on her social media and every little detail to make this a success. This is a win for you too."

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I wish I didn't have to go," he whispered to her.

"We'll be back in Oakland with you soon enough."

She tilted her head up and puckered her lips. He kissed her and felt her body relax against him.

They both turned to watch the voters make their way through the line.

N'Jobu thought of Califia's work in Oakland. He thought of her activism there and the need she had to change what was around her. It mirrored Lia in so many ways. Soliel was the same way, her activism focused on protecting the fragile same-sex rights that had been hard won since she had married Aunjanue and gave birth to Marisol. For N'Jobu, it felt like an unfair burden to carry. These women could not live comfortable lives or even live for themselves without external pressure encroaching on their right to life and liberty. They couldn't be happy unless all were happy.

He hated to admit that he wished Califia didn't use so much of her time worrying about others when they were first reunited. But it was the thing that made her who she was. If she weren't that way, how different would she be? Would he have fallen in love with her?

The first time he had ever saw her was in the middle of her bursting into a room bringing a righteous energy to a crowd and encouraging them to protest a racist writer. If she had been a typical university student talking to him about her classes and who made the best coffee for cramming sessions, he may have overlooked her. But she came in like the fire of Sekmet with her form-hugging biker clothes and daggers in her eyes. His old lover Andrea had caught his interest with a fat ass and compliant nature, but Califia's sharp tongue and call to the masses had won his heart. After that, she was always on his mind. Even when he was juggling women back in the day, getting his dick wet as much as he could because he could, it was Califia and her assertive drive to shape the world that forced him to turn her way. Her influence on him over the years changed him and his worldview. She was the catalyst for him finally admitting to himself that he wanted out of the palace. He wanted a life of his own, but to have that life, it meant looking out for the life of others in a more profound way.

He could freely admit that his woman gave him new eyes. And those new eyes turned to look at his own country and really allowed him to see how seclusion and secrecy was…what? Wrong? Selfish? Without her, would he be sitting in the palace now with Zinzi looking no further outside of Wakanda except for the occasional trips he would have to make to the U.N. and worrying about nothing so pressing as to what he would wear to a royal event? Would he have children that were nothing like Erik, who expected things to be handed to them because they had wealth and protection?

N'Jobu watched his son as he spoke to Lia and Marisol, and a chill ran through him. His little boy was so much more than what his own nephew T'Challa could ever be. His nephew lived in a bubble just as N'Jobu had lived. It was an extreme world of privilege, high-tech, and insular thinking. It was also a small world that had the capacity to make one not have empathy. This was the thing that Califia gave him. The tipping point that shifted his mind. He was sympathetic to the troubles of people outside of Wakanda when he first arrived in America, but honestly, beyond that, it wasn't his problem or concern. Califia taught him empathy. And this made him look outward.

It shook him to his core at that moment to know that she made him free. Made him want more for others. Especially for her and their son.

N'Jobu squeezed Califia's waist and let his chin rest in her hair.

Bast be a rock.

They were inside the local community center that Soliel created. It was a small building that served a vibrant neighborhood and it was packed with supporters.

Califia was drinking an overly sweet punch when the final vote was tallied and Lia received the phone call that she had won her seat on the city council. They all watched Lia cover her face with her hands after she burst into tears. Her boyfriend Oscar scooped her up and her family clamored for hugs. Marisol and Erik hugged Lia's waist as she stared around the room, her face full of shock.

N'Jobu stood next to Califia and his smile was so big and bright, she could only grab onto his arm and squeeze his bicep. Lia ran to her and Soliel and threw her arms around them both in a big hug.

"This couldn't be done without you two," Lia said. When she stood back, her face looked like it had really registered that her political career was beginning. All the talks over wine and food late into the night over years of strategic planning to win over minds and canvassing the neighborhood had paid off. Her foot was in the door. Now all she had to do was stick to her convictions and push reform. Within the hour of winning, Lia was outside the center giving a victory speech to reporters, her face back on tv again. The entire neighborhood felt like it had won. Califia and N'Jobu watched her speech from inside on the tv with Califia translating for him.

"She is talking about her critics hating her left-leaning politics and how her opponent, that asshole Nobrega, will no longer be allowed to hide his cover-up of extrajudicial killings by police officers in the favelas…"

They could hear the crowd of supporters outside cheering Lia's words about the police and city corruption. Nobrega was a former cop turned politician, and N'Jobu thought he had the face of a mindless weasel. He was racist, homophobic, and a champion of militias and right-wing extremism. Throughout the campaign, he kept referring to Lia as a troublesome black rat who would damage the city. An ugly little man in N'Jobu's eyes. He overheard Erik calling him "mancha de merda" to Marisol at the Catalina restaurant, and Califia looked shocked that he said that and reprimanded him at the table. When he asked Califia what Erik had said, she whispered in his ear, "Our son called him a shit stain." N'Jobu had laughed.

There was a small party at Lia's house that evening out on the patio, and part of the time was spent with Califia and Erik watching N'Jobu pack his things. They had finally put the mattress back on the box spring and Califia and Erik sat on the bed.

"Tomorrow we'll be at the swearing in and then the luncheon until one, and then we'll head back here for dinner. My Dad said to call him when you get into Atlanta and he'll be at the airport waiting for you," she said as she watched him pack away a few shirts and some souvenirs.

Erik kept watching her face and she wondered why he was so intent on being so hugged up near her. He was doing the same to N'Jobu.

"You okay, JaJa?" she asked him while rubbing her hand on his curls.

He nodded, but he gave furtive glances to his father.

"What is it, Son?" N'Jobu said sitting on the other side of Erik.

They both saw two tears run down both sides of Erik's face and then he was pressing his head against Califia's chest. She put a protective arm around him.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want Baba to leave."

"I'm just going for work—"

Erik shook his head against Califia.

"Something's wrong," he wailed and Califia patted his back to try and calm him down.

N'Jobu pulled Erik away from Califia and held his chin with his hand forcing the boy to look his way.

"Speak," N'Jobu said.

"It doesn't feel good—"

"What doesn't feel good?" N'Jobu said wiping Erik's face.

"You guys. It feels different."

"What are you worried about?" Califia asked. Her eyes had glanced over at N'Jobu's and he looked as puzzled as she felt. But Erik was sensitive that way. He always had the ability to feel their tensions.

"Baba leaving us so early all of a sudden. And you were crying this morning when Baba took a shower. I saw you, Mom. Baba's phone was vibrating on the kitchen table and you looked at it and started crying…are you breaking up? Is Baba leaving us?"

Califia was horrified. Her baby saw her crying over her fears and thought his family was disintegrating. The look on N'Jobu's face hurt her also. When his eyes reached hers, he was now aware that she had been checking his phone. His locked phone. Califia couldn't even find the words to speak.

"No one is breaking up, JaJa. Dry your eyes. Your mother and I will always be together."

She stared at N'Jobu. There was no lie in his eyes.

"You've been worrying about that all this time today?" she asked.

He nodded, a small shudder of air leaving his lips as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. She should've been more aware of how she was acting around her son. All of her focus had been on N'Jobu and that damn cell phone, and she had unintentionally telegraphed divorce to her baby. She held him close to her and kissed his forehead.

"We are fine—"

"But why were you crying?"

"I always miss your father whenever he leaves us. I'm just sadder now because I want him to be here to help us celebrate Aunt Lia. He's going to miss out on all the cool stuff we're going to do—"

"Yes," N'Jobu said jumping in to clean up her mess, "No museum. I can't go see the Gato waterfall with you and Marisol on Friday. Your Mom was looking forward to that, so now we'll have to do it the next time we come down-"

"And your father's phone is always ringing and disturbing him. I was upset that he will have to work early and not play with us."

Erik's chest stopped heaving and his face was now just puffy and not wet with tears.

"Feel better?" N'Jobu asked.

"Yeah," Erik said still leaning into Califia.

"Afonso said that his mom cried a lot before his Dad left them. He doesn't get to see his Dad anymore," Erik said.

Afonso was a neighborhood kid that played with Marisol.

"We are fine. You will see me back home. Give me a hug," N'Jobu said.

Erik practically leaped onto his father and Califia felt her chest heaving a bit. N'Jobu stroked the back of Erik's head, but when his eyes met hers this time, they were solemn.

"JaJa, come on!" Marisol yelled from the small livingroom.

"Your mother and I are going to talk, okay?" N'Jobu said.

Erik jumped up kissing N'Jobu's cheek and then quickly hugged Califia before he ran out to play with Marisol and Afonso. Lia had turned on music and the noise outside let them know there were more people around to give their congratulations.

Alone, Califia felt like a small gulf had sprung between her and N'Jobu.

"Checking my phone?"

She nodded, feeling her eyes well up.

N'Jobu stood up and locked the new bedroom door. He sat back down next to her.

"I do not want to see my son crying like that ever again," he said.

She couldn't tell by his voice if he was angry or upset, or even sad. His eyes were on hers and their intensity overshadowed anything else.

"I do not want you looking at my phone and wondering about my intentions or who is calling me."

He took off his shirt and slipped off his shoes and socks.

"I do not want to see you crying over me because of something you've imagined I've done to cause you harm…"

He slipped out of his pants and underwear. When he was completely naked, he widened his legs.

"Take off your clothes," he said. It was a command.

She stood up and pulled her blouse and bra off. He held her hand for balance when she kicked off her heels and pulled off her pants and bikini underwear.

Helping her straddle his lap, N'Jobu held the back of her neck with his hand.

"You have to trust me. I'm your man. Just yours. I have to take this fear out of you," he said. His voice changed.

"Califia Stevens, you belong to me. You are the mother of my son. Yours is the only bed I belong in. Understand?"

He moved his hips under her and she reached out to hold onto him. He lifted her up to adjust his penis under her so that it rested tucked between her folds, soft and warm, not even erect.

"Kiss me," he said.

She placed her lips on his and the heat from his mouth made her open hers wide to accept his thick wet tongue. His other hand held her waist and she could feel him growing underneath her. She bounced for him and his kisses became deeper.

"Our son can't cry like that anymore," he said.

His reached up and fondled her nipples, plucking them until they were stiff beneath the tips of his fingers. He looked down between her legs.

"Get that pussy ready for me," he whispered to her. He slipped his tongue around the outer shell of her ear and she could feel his warm breath hitch as her plumped up clit and ring dragged across his tip.

"Oh…girl…just like that…just like that…get that fat pussy ready for me…just me…"

She was getting wet so fast, his voice easing her pussy open…

"There it is…I see it…that look…you got Daddy's pussy together, huh?"

She groaned into his neck and he laughed at her. "Yes, you are ready for me. Dripping all on my lap…"

Laughter outside distracted her for a moment. The music was infectious and the smell of rich foods permeated the air. Lia was talking to someone over her cell phone.

His lips trapped hers again and his deep kisses engulfed any control she had over her mind and body. By the time he let her come up for air from his mouth, she was whimpering into his collar bone and her thighs were slickening his thighs with her wetness.

"You ready to sit on my dick?"

His grip was on her waist. She whispered yes into his neck but it came out like a long breathy sigh. He gripped his erection with his hand.

"Slide down this pipe, girl."

He lifted her up and she widened her thighs and slipped her fingers between her legs to guide him inside of her. She sat on him slowly and his breath became little puffs of warm air upon her neck. He kept still once her ass sat on his balls. The walls in the room vibrated with the sound of music and talking and laughter from outside. They heard Erik speaking to Andres and Soliel, and there were occasional shouts from down below on the street from people sending words of support and pride at Lia's win.

Califia shifted forward on his lap and started lifting up and down on him.

"I don't want you to worry about me being back home by myself," he grunted, his hands gripping her sides. His voice went deeper in tone as the sound of skin on skin slapping together drowned out the noise outside.

"When you come back, I'll bring you to my apartment. I'll let you get in my bed…"

Her eyes stayed on his, her lips puckered and wanting his mouth.

"I'm not fucking anyone else but you—"

She exhaled and kept her movement on his lap controlled so that the bed didn't move that much.

He lifted up from the bed with her still on his erection and moved to put her on her back on the edge of the mattress. He spread her legs and leaned over her, his thickness sliding in and out of her with a slow gentle rhythm.

"Is this what you're worried about?" he asked. His sack was like a plush gift slapping against her cheeks.

"You think someone else is getting this in my bed when I'm away from you?"

Her eyes rolled back and she turned her head to the side. She couldn't look him in the face as her pussy throbbed with just the thought of him with someone else. It was a perverse pleasure to imagine his dick hitting some other woman's spot the right way. Serah called him grade A dick and didn't mind sharing him. She could not, but it turned her on imagining the act.

"Ohhhh," he said trying to keep quiet in the room as he held her legs up.

He looked down at her and she knew he was not keeping his control with the way his face was getting tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching each time he entered her folds.

"Damn, I'm stretching this shit out," he gasped. He thrust forward and laid on top her, letting her take his full weight. The bed was groaning from their movement. She pushed up on his chest and he pulled out of her. He squeezed his balls as he watched her stand up and bend over for him, her hands pressed on the mattress.

He grabbed his cock and inserted himself back in her and soon enough he had her sucking on the sheets with her mouth trying to hide her yelps. He was having a difficult time keeping the sounds of his pleasure to himself.

"I have to fuck this good pussy… real well….I won't have it for a week…ohhhhhh…I feel you coming already…I feel you," he gritted out.

She screamed into the sheets, her hands gripping the cotton tight.

"Cum in me," she begged, her head turned to look back at him, "your dick feels amazing."

He made a sound that gave her shivers.

"I'm ready to bust—"

"Cum in your pussy—"

"Damn—"

"Nut in this pussy…"

His hand pressed down on her lower back. She rocked her ass cheeks on him.

"Bast!" he shouted and she felt him hold still as his cock spasmed in her walls. She sighed as his load kept pumping into her. Collapsing onto the bed, he pulled out from her easy, still dripping cum from his tip.

He plopped down next to her and reached above her head. He brought his cell to her face. She watched him unlock his phone.

It was always hard leaving them.

N'Jobu gave Erik and Califia tons of kisses and it was never enough. Lia's boyfriend waited patiently by his car as N'Jobu bid farewell to everyone. When he hugged Lia tight, her bright eyes made him feel blessed to know her.

"Now will you tell me what you said the other day?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

He smiled.

"When sleeping women wake, mountains move. And do not forget, however long the night, the dawn will break," he said.

"Hmmm. I like that. Thank you for being here with your family and for supporting me. We will have a good time for their last week."

"When you get some time, come visit us," he said.

"I will."

He hugged her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"JaJa," he said and Erik jumped up in his arms. He hugged and rocked his son in his arms.

"Look after your mother. Be a good boy and I'll see you soon."

He leaned over and kissed Califia.

"You better get going, you have to be there early for international flights," Califia said.

Her face looked peaceful. They were back on track.

"Me and you in my apartment. I'll get Dante to watch Erik," he whispered. He saw her eyes twinkle.

Waving to his family and friends, N'Jobu enjoyed the drive with Oscar as they moved away from the favela and he had the opportunity to watch the scenery. He found a flight that could get him into Atlanta at a decent time. If he had to, he would contact T'Chaka there and feed him the story he sent his parents via email about attending a bachelor party. He just needed to be on American soil as soon as possible.

Once he was back in his apartment, he would start getting background info on Ulysses Klaue. And if D'Beke found that N'Jobu had enough War Dogs converted to his side, he would start planning to subvert policies back home. It would take time.

The airport was busy and his flight was delayed.

He sat in a crowded section where his gate was and watched travelers come and go. He had a couple of hours to kill, so he read a book from his burner cell to pass the time. He was looking forward to sleeping on the plane and made plans in his mind to keep busy while he was separated from Erik and Califia.

The chatter of voices around him lulled him to close his eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he fell asleep and was jolted awake by the gasp of the Black woman sitting next to him.

His eyes shot open, and he couldn't make out what the woman was saying in Portuguese. Other travelers were stopping and watching the tv above them. It was a chaotic scene and a female reporter was pointing to a car in the distance behind her.

"What's happening?" N'Jobu asked a white man behind him who spoke English to his companion.

"I'm not sure," the man said.

The woman next to him covered her mouth with her hands.

Eyes back on the tv, Lia's picture appeared. It was a photo of her voting at the school. A clip played of her speaking outside of the community center after she won. N'Jobu walked swiftly to his flight gate and questioned the brown-skinned attendant who also had her eyes glued to the tv.

"Excuse, me. What is happening?"

The woman's eyes were wide and her lip trembled.

"That woman who was voted into office was…she was just killed—"

N'Jobu felt his gut lurch and he immediately dialed Califia's number. She wasn't picking up. Eyes bolted back to the tv, the news showed shocked faces of people wandering around in a daze. One young Black woman was shown sitting in the street wailing.

N'Jobu looked for any signs of Califia or Erik, or anyone he recognized because they were with Lia.

"Two people were killed," he heard the second gate attendant tell another traveler next to him.

Califia was still not picking up. All he knew was Erik and Califia rode with Lia and Soliel to the luncheon.

Two people dead.

Panic clutched his throat. He grabbed his carry-on bag and walked quickly toward the ground floor. His eyes were blurry and he was running by the time he made it outside of the airport.

Luck was with him and he snagged a cab right away. He gave directions to the cabbie to head for the community center. He couldn't remember the luncheon address because his mind was a rush of negative fear-bound thoughts.

The cabbie had the radio on and N'Jobu heard Lia's name mentioned.

"Do you speak English?" N'Jobu asked. His voice sounded high-pitched and frantic.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what the radio is saying about what happened to the new Council Woman. Lia—"

"Oh, oh, she was shot and killed…"

N'Jobu's hands shot up to the top of his head. He still couldn't reach Califia and his body was shaking.

"Who shot her?"

The cabbie listened to the radio.

"What the fuck are they saying, man?!"

The cabbie was startled by his anger, his lips grew tight.

"She was leaving from somewhere and when she was in her car, someone pulled up and shot into the car…uh…she was killed…and…and they say her driver was killed too…many people seriously injured who were running away…"

He sent Califia a text, and then he tried calling Soliel. No one was picking up. He didn't have Lia's parent's number. That was in Califia's phone.

The soldier in him bucked up. He sat back in the seat. He couldn't fathom what was happening and he had no control on how to get to his family any faster. Califia could hold it down. She would protect Erik.

But who would protect her if he wasn't there?

He closed his eyes…and felt his kimoyo beads heat up on his wrist.

Chapter 19 HERE.

#njobu #n'jobu #erik killmonger #erik #killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #blackpanther #black panther #wakanda #erik killmonger as a child #eriklives #erik stevens #erikstevens #njobu fanfiction #n'jobu fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #njadaka #n'jadaka #njadakastevens #n'jadaka stevens #n'jadakastevens #njobu fanfic #n'jobu fanfic #n'jobufanfiction #njobufanfiction #princenjobu #princen'jobu #prince n'jobu

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 20

"When my love comes down, I don't have to run around

I've got you and you know just what to do

to fulfill all my needs and satisfy me

But I'd like to know if the sexual healing is mutual,

do you feel what I'm feeling?

Do I please you? Do I fill the need? I know I might sound bold,

but I'd just like to know

Is it good to you? I want to know

Is it good to you? Oooh, I got to know, yeah

Is it good to you? C'mon and tell me, boy, yeah

Is it good to you?"

Tammy Lucas – "Is it Good to You?"

Damn near shit-faced.

That's how N'Jobu felt sitting around the V.I.P. table with his friends. Drinks flowed, the music was out of control, and it felt so good to curse with Birnin Zana slang without having to check himself. He had known these guys since he was six years old. They were loyal, discreet, and fucking funny as hell.

Once N'Jobu caught up with the current happenings in and around Birnin Zana, and who was screwing who on the down low and in public, the conversation took a turn when he discovered that it was Jax going through the pregnancy scandal with the newly divorced socialite and River Tribe noblewoman.

Tossing back more plum liquor shots, N'Jobu heard the sordid tale straight from the jackass's mouth.

"Like, damn, Jax. Why the hell didn't you use protection? Ngqundu wako!" N'Jobu scolded.

"I'm an ass? Masende kayihlo!" Jax cursed back grabbing at his balls to insult N'Jobu.

"Eh, my father's balls? Nyo kanyoko!" N'Jobu shot back using his fingers to tap his tongue as a counter insult towards Jax's mother's private parts.

The other guys laughed and balled their fists up to their mouths at the bickering of two best friends.

"She said she had it covered. What can I say? I was doing it and thinking she would handle all of that. She's a noble. Those women should know better. Plus, she just got divorced. Ikaka, it might be her ex-husband's," Jax said.

"She keeping it?" N'Jobu asked.

"She can't."

"What if she does? What are you going to do?"

Jax sipped on a bottle of beer.

"She's not having it. I'll make sure she doesn't."

"She can get a DNA test you know," N'Jobu said.

"Not my problem. Plus, I hear her ex wants her back."

"Man, still…wouldn't you want to know if the child is yours? I mean if she keeps it, and it's yours, won't your families want legitimacy?"

"Ohhh, noooo, don't try to put that marriage yoke around my neck. You're the guy that has to get tied down for King and country! Filial obedience!" Jax hollered, slapping N'Jobu on his back.

N'Jobu only stared at Jax in disbelief.

"How many of your choices came to that dinner tonight?" Jax asked.

"We are talking about you, not me."

"Let's stop talking about him. I don't think she's pregnant anyway. I saw pictures of her drinking here last week for a birthday party. Pregnant women don't drink," said Odwa, His twin brother Paki was nodding his head.

"I saw those pictures too. She's playing you Jax," Paki said.

A popular song blasted the conversation and Jax jumped up shaking his hips, his thin twisted locs bouncing around his head.

"This is our cue, gentlemen. Our Prince has returned from fucking American women…don't roll your eyes at me N'Jobu, we know you! Odwa, look at his face, he's sitting here trying to act like he's been a good schoolboy in America."

"I know your comm tab has been blowing up since you got home. Who has been calling you to split them open before you go back, eh?" Paki said.

"Let's go dance, this is the song!" Their friend Chisulo said, dropping his body low and twisting his feet to the massive bass rumbling throughout the club.

Sekani, N'Jobu's third cousin on his mother's side took a long drag from a bottle of peach vodka. He wiped his mouth after drinking and stared at N'Jobu, his bald head shiny under the club lights. "Cousin, let's go," he said.

N'Jobu stood up and followed them as they walked past several elite sections. As N'Jobu sauntered through, he felt eager eyes on him and saw people giving head nods out of respect for his presence. Before they reached the stairs, he had to stop and use the restroom.

"I'll meet you guys down there," he said.

His Dora Milaje were discreet, but still watching his movements closely.

After relieving himself in the restroom, N'Jobu circled around towards the stairs.

"Prince N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu's head snapped to his right and he saw Zinzi and a group of women sitting in their own section. He recognized several of the women, their parents had eaten with him at the palace earlier.

Zinzi wore white skin-tight pants and a white leather corset top that showed off her ample bosom. N'Jobu didn't feel any shame when he let his eyes dip low to check out her breasts. She wasn't shy about showing them off. Oba Oba's was the place to see and be seen. She caught his reckless eye-balling and smiled.

"Zinzi," he said, stepping to her. He reached for her hand and kissed it. The women with her watched him with fierce sparkling eyes.

"Hello Ladies, you all look amazing," he said, acknowledging them. The one sitting closest to him, a pretty woman with dimples and a baby afro who he didn't recognize, kept biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"How come you didn't come over to my section?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to look offended.

"You looked like you were in deep conversation with your friends. I didn't want to disturb your reunion."

"You disturb me? Never! Come, dance with me," he said, clasping her hand in his. He felt her fingers squeeze his a little. Her friends looked gobsmacked by how familiar he was acting with Zinzi, his informal Wakandan inflections scandalous to their ears. She did ask him to be seen with her so that the gossip could get back to her lover.

"Sure, your Highness," she said.

"Ladies, excuse us please," he said.

He led Zinzi down the stairs and through a boisterous crowd of dancers. They both could feel more covetous eyes on them. Zinzi's fingers felt warm and smooth interlaced with his, quite comfortable in fact.

He could see his boys throwing down already with women who were serving them hips and dips. The music was funky and not for the rhythmically challenged.

N'Jobu wasted no time grabbing Zinzi's waist. She was already tossing her ass back at him in that slow teasing way that women from this part of town were famous for doing. One leg up and bent, then the other lifted, bent at the knee, tiny steps alternating left to right, hip twisting, ass cheeks jiggled in precise isolations. River tribe women were known for those type of moves, but a dance craze that caught on a year ago filtered over into Birnin Zana from that region. Now everyone was doing it.

N'Jobu had to create an artificial barrier between him and Zinzi. Yes, he was connected to a woman in the States, and yes, he was committed to being faithful to her, but he was also a man who had a body that reacted to fine women. And Zinzi was fine as Ethiopian honey wine. When her ass got too close to his groin, he made sure not to press into her.

She turned around and raised her hands in the air, and that was a problem because now he could not stop looking at her chest and the way her breasts bounced to the music. He quickly forced himself to keep dancing but focused his eyes elsewhere as if he were taking in all the sights and sounds of the club.

A popular song called "Zana Highlife" came on, and N'Jobu really cut loose with Zinzi. She was fun to dance with and actually kept up with him.

"You're good, Prince N'Jobu!" she said, moving around him.

He smiled at her as he worked his shoulders in time with his hips.

"Okay your Highness, I see you!" she called out, trying to match his moves.

They partied to five songs and then N'Jobu took her hand and walked her over to a bar and ordered drinks for them. All the drinks were on the house for him. He asked for two house wines, and when they arrived, he took them and had Zinzi follow him to an open table in a booth. The other tables near them were empty because people were on the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yejide and Ometeko positioning themselves near him. No one would bother them at the table or in this section.

Sipping their white wine, N'Jobu kept eyeing Zinzi. She might actually be the one for his family's legacy. They got along so far as adults. He had known her when they were kids, but that was a long time ago. She was a woman now. An amazing one.

They did a little small talk about her current work organizing counseling for mental health and advocating for geriatric outreach. They spoke of his education and the excitement of the new royal baby. He showed her pictures of his friends in California on his comm tab. Always group shot photos, and usually he was in the back of the pictures trying to be obscure. He made sure not to show her any photos that he had of Califia and him together. Those were his private stash, mostly selfies of them kissing.

Califia seemed to adore photos of them tonguing each other down. Kissing between them was almost as good as intercourse. It had turned into a necessary extended act of foreplay that he enjoyed very much, especially when paired with his licking her all over from her front to her back. They once had an intense kissing session on her grandmother's couch when everyone had gone to bed. Califia had worked him up so bad that when they stopped twisting their lips and tongues together after forty minutes, he had soaked a section of his pants with pre-cum and he thought he had ejaculated because the stain was so big.

"Any girlfriends out there in America?" Zinzi asked.

"No," he said sipping on his wine, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"But you are seeing women, right?"

"Yeah. I date. But school is pretty intense."

"I hear you're a top student."

"Always. That's an Udaku trait."

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"You and Captain Gcuma…?"

He was curious.

"You were great tonight. Thank you."

"So, what's the deal with that? Why don't you two just get married? I can tell he is into you. He looked shocked when he saw me stepping up."

"My parents. He's older. Divorced. No children. They think being divorced is a sign of bad character and because he never had children with his wife, he must be infertile."

"Who was he married to?"

"Wananeya Duzi."

"The Duzi family? Whoa. How'd he screw that up?"

Zinzi punched his leg.

"Be nice. He fell in love with me."

"You were messing around with a married man?"

"They were separated for three years before he and I…"

"I understand," N'Jobu said.

"I was finishing up my military stint. He was my commanding officer. He just…we just…"

"Easy, Zinzi. You don't have to explain. The picture is clear."

"To be fair, he is descended from the Oni family. His mother is an Oni. He has noble blood."

"But the whole divorce, and maybe him being a lot older is an issue, eh?"

"Yes. But I don't care. My family wants to be in the palace. You know this. But I'm in love. I just want to get married and make that man some babies."

"Does he want to marry you?"

"I know he does. But he's scared to ask. Scared of losing his rank if my family goes after him because they disapprove. That's why I asked you to be seen with me openly. I want him to see that he could lose me. I want him to get a taste of seeing me with someone else."

"And that's supposed to do what? Make him propose?"

"Yes!"

"Well, if I were him, I would say screw the military and elope with you."

Zinzi's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Look at you. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. You remind me a lot of my…."

He caught himself.

"I remind you of what?"

He sipped from his wine glass. Her eyes got big.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you? In the States."

"Keep this to yourself."

Zinzi studied his face.

"What?" he said.

"I knew something was up with you."

N'Jobu quirked his lips like she was talking nonsense.

"No, really. I noticed something about you when you were at the dinner. You seemed preoccupied but in a good way. And the way you are in this club right now, with all these beautiful women? I know for sure that when I throw this ass back on a man, they try to catch it. Are you in love, Prince N'Jobu?"

He sat back in the booth seat and sighed.

"Yes. I am."

Zinzi smiled.

"Can I see a picture of her?"

"You must keep this to yourself," he said.

"I've told you my deepest darkest secret that I don't want anyone to know about. You can trust me. I'm not looking for trouble."

N'Jobu pulled up one of his favorite photos of him and Califia together. She is straddling his lap and looking up at his cell phone while he is kissing her cheek. His eyes are closed and his arms are around her and squeezing her tight. Her hair is a big thick ball of fury and her freckles are so vivid on her face. But it's her smile that melts him. Those luscious lips. Her teeth. That cheeky twinkle in her eye. The love of his life at this moment.

"My Bast, Prince N'Jobu. She is striking. No wonder…no wonder."

Zinzi is quiet and they both watch the crowd dance. N'Jobu can see his buddies still cutting up, the life of the party on the dance floor.

"Do your parents know about her?" Zinzi finally asks.

"No one. It's a new relationship. I've dated a lot over there. But this…this is something…I don't even know how to act sometimes. I mean, that girl…that girl has got me. What's crazy is, I wasn't even looking for this. I was happy just screwing around…and then, I don't know… something changed. I've never felt like this before, Zinzi. And it bothers me. It weighs on me. Because I can't keep her. I have fallen in love with someone for the first time in my life, and it's with a foreigner. I can never bring her here, and I can never stay there. I'm fucked."

He hadn't meant to lay all of that at Zinzi's feet. But it felt good talking to Zinzi. She made him feel open and trusting. She reached out her hand and cradled his fingers in hers.

"Your secret is safe with me. Although our situations are different, I do understand what you are going through."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a half smile.

"What time is it over there now? You should call her."

"It's around five."

"Call her," Zinzi said getting up, "I'm going to rejoin my friends for a bit."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Zinzi?"

"Before you leave, make sure we talk again. There's something I want to hip you to. A rumor you should be aware of."

"Okay. Is it about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll come find you."

She nodded and eased back into the crowd.

Tapping his comm tab and placing his earbuds on, N'Jobu hit Califia's cell number.

"Filter background," N'Jobu whispered, and the earbuds worked on blocking out much of the loud music and background voices. It was pretty loud, but he hoped the noise reduction filter would do enough so he wouldn't have to move.

He almost gave up on the ninth ring when he heard her pick.

"N'Jobu!" she exclaimed, and the excitement in her voice made him close his eyes.

"Califia," he said, his voice a gentle whisper.

"How is everything? Is your family thrilled to have you back? What's the weather like—"

"Califia, I love you too."

The music in the background was still a little loud and he thought she didn't hear him.

"Baby?" he said looking down at his fingers. They were trembling.

"I wanted to tell you before you left. But I chickened out. I was going to wait until you came back home to me and tell you in person. But…it just came out like that, and maybe, I dunno, maybe I was scared to say it in person—" she said.

"Say it to me now," he said.

"I love you, N'Jobu. I love the hell out of you."

He released a loud exhalation of breath. He let his eyes drift across the dancers and the bright lights and the wonderful chaos that was his favorite club. His friends were at the bar lifting their drinks to him, their smiles wide and grateful that he was here with them once more. But at this moment, his heart and mind were far away.

"I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you, Califia. When you touched my hand that first time…when you were checking out my bracelet…you looked up at me and …and there was something in your eyes that just caught me. Baby, this is so new to me. But I will do my best to make you happy. Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice trembling over the call.

"I'm going to be thinking of you every day here."

"Same."

"I'm hanging out with my friends right now. We're at a club, and it looks like we're about to hit the dance floor again. Or drink some more I'm guessing. They are holding up shot glasses for me."

"Get off this phone and go have fun!"

Her laughter thrilled him. He would survive this trip. He didn't miss the fact that she had said coming back home to her. She was home. She was where he wanted to be.

"My schedule is going to be a bitch, so I may not be able to get at you until a few days from now."

"Maybe we can face chat next time?"

"I'll try to make that happen. A lot of political stuff is happening and my family is involved, so my time is really messed up. I'm glad to be back. Everyone is well."

"Good," she said.

"Talk soon?"

"Yeah."

He heard her give him a big wet kiss over the phone and then the call was done.

A stirring of confidence filled up his chest and he strolled over to his boys with a serious dip in his step.

###

After spending time at the bar drinking, N'Jobu let his friends return to the dance floor as he bounded up the steps of V.I.P.

He found Zinzi talking with her friends in her private section and he spirited her away to his V.I.P. section where they could be alone together.

"Spill it," he said, fingering a glass of water.

Zinzi tossed her braids over her shoulder.

"There has been talk about you and Princess Bathandwa. The entire country knows your family wants an heir. Everyone also knows that your brother and sister-in-law have been trying for awhile to have a baby."

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Zinzi's eyes went downcast. She fidgeted with an ornate ruby ring on her index finger.

"There's a story going around that when Princess Bathandwa went to visit New York last June with the Women's Delegation, you flew there to see her because a month after she returned, it was announced she was a few weeks pregnant."

N'Jobu thought back to June. Bathandwa was part of a global women's movement to help neonatal health in so-called Third World countries. They were having a big conference near the U.N. and Bathandwa was giving a speech on African women's progress in East Africa. It was part of Wakanda's political maneuverings in the outside world, feigning the appearance of being a struggling nation with health issues.

During that time, N'Jobu had been messing around with a dish water blonde who taught at Mills College, a professor who he met at a university mixer who talked so much shit to N'Jobu that made him think she was cool that he ended up rearranging her guts in her apartment until he realized later in the situationship that she had a fetish for Black men. Especially dark-skinned men like him who had prowess in bed.

He had screwed the professor and missed a flight to JFK airport where he was to meet Bathandwa and her delegation for a quick hi and bye over dinner. They never met up and she flew home right after her speech.

"We never saw each other," N'Jobu said.

Zinzi shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. She leaves Wakanda after years of trying and comes back announcing a baby on the way. People started talking. There's also your reputation too."

"What is my reputation, hmm?"

"Playboy. Heartbreaker. Party monster. Womb wrecker."

"Womb wrecker? Damn."

"Listen, the people love that about you. No offense, but Prince T'Chaka is like the uptight country Uncle, and you are like everyone's favorite city nephew. They're going to talk."

"How long has this rumor been going?"

"Honestly, at first, it was like a big joke, you know, the stuff people say to poke fun of nobles. But then it started gaining traction, and I am afraid it has reached the ears of the palace. I am quite sure your brother is aware of it."

N'Jobu drank his water and pondered her words.

"I noticed tonight that Princess Bathandwa is very affectionate with you."

"And?"

"You may want to be very careful of how you two interact, especially during this time of the coronation. I do not mean to be rude, but people are watching you closely, and not just because of the betrothal march. Some people really believe that her baby is yours."

"Great," he said sighing heavily.

"This will pass. The good thing is, you will return to the States, and once the baby is born, everyone will see that the royal couple finally received the child they have been praying for."

"Let us hope so," he said, "any other gossip I should know about?"

"Your friend Jax, he is not the father of the baby that Yasmin is having. Your other friend Odwa is."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. You did not hear it from me."

"Hey…I talked to my girlfriend."

"Good. How is she?"

N'Jobu beamed.

"She sounded great."

"You are so cute when you are in love. Just all teeth right now."

N'Jobu smiled wider, then stared at Zinzi with a more somber expression. He rubbed his chin.

"Can I ask you something else, and be honest with me?"

"Go ahead."

N'Jobu glanced around to make sure they were still afforded privacy.

"In your opinion, how are the people taking the change. Are they for or against my brother?"

Zinzi's eyes squinted a bit and she pressed her lips together.

"From what I gather, and this is coming from my parents and other nobles, the change is viewed as a good thing among people under forty. It's the older people who are not thrilled. They are accustomed to our Kings and Queens ruling until they drop dead. No offense, your Highness."

"None taken."

"People generally like Prince T'Chaka. He has a level head, but, some feel that his crowning should come later when he is more mature. How do you feel about it?"

"It seems fast to me. But I will trust my father's judgment."

"It lessens your time being a playboy I bet," she joked.

"Look whose showing teeth now," N'Jobu said.

"You know they weren't going to let you dangle out here for long."

"Lady Zinzi!"

Jax stepped back into the V.I.P. along with the rest of N'Jobu's crew. Zinzi stood and greeted all the guys.

"I'll see you later, Prince N'Jobu."

"I'll call you for lunch."

"Do that," she said, leaving their private space.

Jax and the others watched Zinzi's hips sway as she walked around to rejoin her party.

"Sekmet in heaven. Please tell me you are choosing her, N'Jobu," Odwa said.

"I have tried for years to get that woman to look at me. I think she's stuck up," Jax said, grabbing his crotch in a crude manner.

N'Jobu thought about asking his friends about the rumor, but if it were that serious, one of them would've pulled his coattails by now.

All he knew was that if what she said was true, and the rumor had reached T'Chaka, that may be part of his stress besides becoming King.

The guys were ordering more rounds of shots, and the music was getting hotter.

He'd worry about T'Chaka later.

###

N'Jobu rolled back into the palace way after six in the morning.

He sent his mother a message that he would not be joining the family for brunch, but would be sleeping in before attending the planned evening outing, the opening of a brand-new opera in the West Zana district. The royal family would be having dinner at a chic new restaurant so that the press and paparazzi could get pictures. One of his other top picks for the betrothal march would be joining them for dinner and attending the opera with the family.

Once inside his suite, N'Jobu showered, slathered his body in freshly made cocoa butter, and sat inside his sauna to let the rich body butter soak into his skin. His limbs felt sore and heavy from dancing long and late. He was proud that he wasn't hung over.

The heat softened his skin and he ran his hands up his thighs massaging his muscles. A viewscreen popped up on the glass of the sauna door, and N'Jobu stood up from the wooden bench of the sauna to check it. He forgot he had set a reminder alarm for himself to go jogging in the royal garden.

He reset the alarm for the next day, changed his mind, and set it for later in the afternoon. His wet fingers slid across the screen as he checked for messages. He opened an app for his computer and looked for his private Califia folder. The heat of the sauna woke up his skin. He ran his hand across his pecs, then double tapped the folder. He searched for a particular clip that he filmed with his kimoyo beads. He saw the thumbnail for the clip he wanted and tapped it.

Califia.

As big as life, projected into the sauna in full 3D.

She's on her knees facing him, naked on his bedroom floor. She has her hands on her breasts. He hears himself tell her to play with her tits, and she does, her eyes watching him. He feels bad for a second because it's the only clip he has of her face, and he wasn't trying to film it, he just got caught in the moment and he wasn't using his cell to tape, so the kimoyo beads captured everything.

N'Jobu stepped back from the projected image and just watched, his hands at his sides, the steam in the sauna causing Califia's image to look real. He watched her hands slide up her waist, circle around her stomach and then reach her chest. Her fingers toyed with her nipples first, and N'Jobu fought the urge to touch himself. He simply wanted to observe her.

She pushed her breasts together once her nipples hardened, and he felt his dick stir, blood rushed to help thicken it.

"Turn around, face down. Show me that ass," he said in the video.

Califia pivoted and crossed her arms on the carpet and laid her head on her hands, right on top of a pillow that was on the floor. Her ass sat up in front of him.

"Arch that back," his video voice commanded, and she used those dancer skills that trained her body to bend with complete control to pop that ass up higher. Her thighs parted and her ass cheeks separated enough so that her pussy was visible to him.

In the sauna, N'Jobu was weakened, his cock jutted out more as his eyelids drooped from the blessing that sat before him.

"Hhhhmm….baby," he slipped between his gritted teeth. The bulb of his cock was fully fleshed out. He reached his hand up above his head towards a shelf that housed a small black box. He reached inside the box just when Califia's right hand reached between her legs and rubbed tight counterclockwise circles on her clit.

"Oooooohmmm…" N'Jobu groaned as his dick bobbed. It felt so heavy.

"Let me see those hands," N'Jobu commanded on video, and Califia pressed her face on the pillow. Both her hands reached back and pulled open her cheeks. Her fingernails were painted a satiny dark maroon, and they looked so pretty against her skin.

N'Jobu moaned again when he saw her opening give a small spasm and he saw her tasty pink pussy gap open wider. This woman is fucking art, he thought. There should be paintings of this fat juicy vulva throbbing open on museum walls. This is why men waged wars for centuries. Just to have the power to control this pulsing, throbbing, dripping wet and divine thing. Looking at Califia, even in a digitized state, he knew what a living Goddess looked like.

"Babb..byy…" he stuttered, slipping his fingers out of the black box and pulling out the item he needed. A red cock ring.

He slipped the red band over his dick and rolled it all the way around his balls. His sack was very sensitive when he touched it, and when he released his balls, they felt massive hanging from him even with the new constriction placed on them.

"Jobu…Jobu…" Califia was panting out his name.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't you let go," he said out loud to himself in the sauna as he stroked his erection, the shaft slick from the cocoa butter and steam, his stomach muscles taut, and his pecs flexing from the strain.

"Please….please…Jobu…fuck me…" she begged, spreading her cheeks wider.

"Shit…"

N'Jobu reached back into the box and pulled out a silver glans ring and twisted it around the girth of his frenulum. When he released it, he felt his glans swell more. He stopped touching his erection and just watched Califia begging for his dick. It was torture, an excruciating test of self-control. The more she begged for his cock, the more his dick jumped. He used his own muscles to make his dick move, the sweet pain of the cock rings constricting him building up his intense pleasure.

He watched himself slap Califia's sensitive clit with his hand, sharp strikes that made her yelp as he watched her own body's natural lubricant ooze out of her glistening center.

"Dammit," he muttered, watching her squirm and not touching himself.

He watched himself move into the scene and grab her waist, slowly sinking his cock into her pussy. N'Jobu found himself being even more turned on watching his own dick placate his woman who had been begging and pleading for that moment of entry. Now he was listening to her cry out in pleasure as he forced her to keep that back arched by pressing one hand down on her lower back.

"Jobu…huhhnn…s'deep…hmmmmnn…you in so deep…s'deep…fuck…DADDY…you in there…you in there…"

She was wailing and squirming harder, but he kept his dick deep inside her with a repetitive short slow thrust. The movement made his balls just smash softly against her clit.

N'Jobu began to stroke his erection, because now what he was waiting for was coming up soon. He watched himself jump from doggy to froggy style as he kept that agonizing deep thrust. Califia was lying back on her hands again, trying her best not to collapse from overstimulation and no release. His balls would press into her clit and she would wiggle to try and get the friction to offset her orgasm, but the swivel in N'Jobu's hips prevented that. He was torturing her on purpose.

And he was torturing his real self too as he watched. He gripped his cock tight. A thick stream of pre-cum spilled out in a long clear drizzle down to the sauna floor. His climax was in sight. He watched himself plunge down deeper into Califia and hold still.

"Cum on this dick!" his video self barked at her.

Califia's ass jiggled and then he watched her entire vulva spasm and pulse around his cock.

N'Jobu's eyes shut tight as he shot hot ropes of cum onto the glass door of the sauna. His voice bellowed and grunted freely in the soundproof space as he coated the door with so much cum, it looked like someone had thrown a glass of milk on it.

When his eyes opened, he caught the last part of the video where he pulled out of Califia with his jizz spilling behind him from the release.

He leaned against the glass and gulped in as much air as he could, but he had to exit the sauna because it wasn't enough to revive his breath with the heated air going into his desperate lungs.

He pulled off the cock rings and dropped them on the sink in the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his blown pupils gazing back at him.

"Shit!" he yelled out, trying to gain his composure as he gripped the edges of the marble sink.

He staggered into his room and flopped onto his bed, still winded.

He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 21 HERE

Read “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” from the beginning here.

#njobu #n'jobu #black panther #blackpanther #eriklives #wakanda #daddykillmonger #tchalla #tchaka #t'challa #t'chaka #black #black women #njobufanfic #njobufanfiction #n'jobu fanfic #n'jobu fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #blackwomen

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 15

"Ain't see this side of me Fluent in the sheets Can you read in between me? I ain't a stranger to the foreplay So we can skip the wordplay

Leave the lights on Leave the, leave the lights on Leave 'em lights on…"

H.E.R. – "Lights On"

The Blue Rose was a nondescript tan industrial building set inside a cul de sac. The only signage outside were the numbers of the address lit in neon blue colors. N'Jobu sat in his car to gather himself. What did he really plan to do? Drag her outside and berate her for working in a place like that? Stand in front of a stripper pole and yell at her for shaming herself in public? The blood in his veins surged through his hands as he gripped his steering wheel. How did he not know she worked in a place like this? He had assumed it was an all-night diner.

He saw several boisterous men walking in, and when he saw the dark mahogany double doors open, he could hear the loud thump of bass music, and various catcalls and whistles. When the doors closed again, he heard nothing. He closed his eyes. She was a grown woman. This was just a job. She was just earning money to support herself—

The thought of her naked and writhing on a stage propelled him out of his car, his hands balled into agitated fists. He entered the building and found a young fair-skinned Black woman behind an elaborate register. She was wearing a baseball top that was entirely too small for her large bosomed frame and the shortest shorts that displayed all her assets. She was re-supplying paper to her credit card machine. When she glanced back up, she took a long hard look at his clothes and his face before releasing a seductive grin.

"Hello there," she said.

N'Jobu handed her a black credit card and she swiped it. A separate set of doors led to the main room, and when he walked through, the smell of desperate horny men assailed his nostrils. Flashing laser lights, deafening music, and monetary notes were thrown on three separate stages. The two stages on the side were small and flanked by a larger one with a shining silver pole that ran through the ceiling. N'Jobu posted himself up at one of the three bars in the establishment, his eyes watching the stage as three women pranced out into position and began a new set.

Big tits, big asses, and thick thighs were the preference of this space, and the multi-ethnic male audience was appreciative and generous with their cash. The women were good-looking, athletic and limber. Also, completely nude. Glancing around N'Jobu already noticed a tent city with some of the men having intimate lap dances. He already felt a tension in his neck. Bast forbid he should see his woman grinding on some undeserving cock. He needed a drink.

Ordering a scotch on the rocks, N'Jobu leaned in towards the shapely rainbow-haired bartender to pay for his drink. She took one look at N'Jobu, then his credit card, and saw dollar signs.

"You look like a man who needs his own V.I.P. space," Rainbow girl said.

"Is that right?"

She nodded her head towards a space behind him. He looked in the direction she wanted him to see.

"Up there are private sections. I can set you up with bottle service. Exclusive. Private server…very private."

He caught her drift. He didn't even bother to ask her how much, just waved at his card.

"Set me up, I'll run a tab," he said.

Her eyes traced the outline of his expensive designer shirt. She saw his watch and the tasteful white gold chain around his neck. Rainbow grabbed another woman walking behind her with a tray of empty shot glasses.

"Misty, take this customer to booth twenty and set him up."

Misty, a Black and Vietnamese beauty, scanned N'Jobu with her dark eyes and her face lit up. Rainbow handed N'Jobu his scotch and Misty took him by his hand and led him to the steps that propped him up above the rest of the patrons. A man dressed in a decent suit and worked security for the V.I.P. section bent down to hear Misty talk. The suit unlinked a blue velvet rope allowing N'Jobu to walk up to his private perch.

The set up was decent; some Moroccan style couches and two black velvet chairs that sat close to a glass railing to see the action below. N'Jobu stood looking down at the main stage, his eyes darting to and fro for any sign of Califia among the women giving lap dances in the audience. The Blue Rose was huge and a bit chaotic.

"I'll be your personal server Mr., …?"

He didn't give her his name, just walked over to her and looked down at her face.

"Just bring me a bottle of champagne. Top shelf."

"Would you like any food, we have an excellent—"

N'Jobu shook his head. His mind was speeding ahead to what he would say when he saw Califia, or even what he would do. He needed privacy.

"Just bring me the champagne, for now, Misty," he said, enunciating her name so that his accent had the desired effect. She was swooning.

"Be right back," she said, adding extra swerves to her walk going down the steps.

He went back to standing near the railing. The dancer on the stage was being switched out again, the voice of an MC introduced the next performer. N'Jobu held his breath until he saw a slender Latina with ginormous knockers shimmy her way onstage to a fast trap beat.

"Shit," N'Jobu whispered to himself.

Scanning the room, he saw female servers catering to male customers and a few scattered handfuls of women patrons. The main dancer on stage held the pole with her hands and shook her naked ass so hard he thought it would snap off and fall to the ground. Laser lights and theatrical smoke, reeking of the dry ice that created it, wafted throughout the space, and a certain server caught his eye from afar. It was the two braids in her hair. He watched the server hand out drinks, take a few orders and then move past the main stage towards a bar in the back that was out of his field of vision.

Califia.

He felt his body relax. She only presented food and drinks. She wasn't on the pole. A part of him, the lascivious part of himself was a bit disappointed. Did he really think he was going to stand there in an elevated private section and watch her gyrate while sliding up and down a pole with her legs open with an audience? Did he really want to see that?

Sitting in his car earlier he envisioned all kinds of scenarios, men running up to the stage and throwing money on her, dudebros making filthy monetary notes full of damp sweat rain down on her breasts and ass. Drunk guys trying to press their faces into her chest to be motorboated, their dirty hands rubbing their sad crotches and then rubbing some part of her.

Misty returned with a fancy bottle inside a bucket of ice, and a single champagne flute held out to him. She placed the bucket on a table and pulled open the cork that had been popped before she came up the stairs. She poured his glass to the top. He drank until the flute was half empty.

"Will you need anything else?" Misty licked her lips and ran her fingertips across her nipples. Her hustle was not subtle. She may just be a server, but she was willing to give N'Jobu whatever he desired. A lap dance or even more. Had this been weeks in the past, N'Jobu may just as well sat on one of the couches, spread his legs and let this beauty climb on him, but he had something more valuable downstairs. And he wanted her in his presence. Immediately.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet and lifted out a fifty-dollar bill.

"There's a server downstairs with two braids and freckles near the stage. Send her up here to me, please."

Misty's face didn't fail to hide her disappointment.

"The girls downstairs have their sections that they are assigned…"

"I want her. Now."

Misty took the fifty and shuffled downstairs.

N'Jobu went to lord over the crowd and watch for his woman. She was making her rounds with a large tray of drinks that she balanced in one hand while fending off overzealous hands with the other.

The high heels she wore made her legs look longer and even sexier, and her uniform, the same as all the women servers and bartenders in the spot, was a tighter baseball top and short shorts that allowed lesser men to see nearly all of her curvy behind. He watched her bend over near the stage to listen to a man, and even from that distance, he could tell the other men watching her were salivating at the view she displayed. How many of them in that moment were fantasizing about getting up behind her, holding her waist and thrusting forward into that round piece of heaven?

He saw Misty approach her. He waited.

###

Califia was making bank tonight. Her push up bra was stuffed with fives, tens and a few twenties. She was going to have to run to the staff room soon to place her collected tips into her backpack located inside her personal locker so she could make room for more. She guestimated that she already had around two-hundred dollars, and her shift was still early. She would be working until six in the morning.

Making her way towards a few tables close to the stage, Califia saw Misty, a club favorite, come bounding up to her.

"Li Li, there's a guy up in twenty who wants you to be the server."

Califia glanced at Misty's pouting lips.

"I'm cleaning up here. Get someone else," Califia said, writing down two separate orders for two different tables.

She purposely had her hip thrust out, trying to finesse hard-up men with eye candy. The men she was taking orders from were definitely into big legs, so she wanted to make sure they could see her extra cocoa-buttered thighs. The club DJ was playing a hard banger of a classic Big Freedia bounce re-mix, so Califia added a few subtle body rolls as she took drink and food orders much to the delight of the men and two women in her section.

Misty rolled her eyes at Califia, but she seemed a little happy with the response she received.

"I'll let him know," Misty said flouncing away.

Califia looked up towards V.I.P., but the distance, bright lights, and smoky atmosphere made it impossible to see the person above them. Clearly, they had the paper to be up there, but Califia just wanted to take orders and serve drinks. V.I.P. work got a little handsy and often illicit. God bless the working girls that went that route, but she was good for the evening.

Califia made sure to give special attention to the two women patrons in her section. She checked in with them often, making sure they had plenty of water and the free salted snacks on each table.

"Let me know if you need anything," was her refrain for them. She did it not because she wanted tips from them, but to make them comfortable in the den of snakes men could turn into in a spot like that. Califia could handle herself with disrespectful clientele, but she had witnessed too many times the sharp turn a night could take with drunk touchy-feely males who could quickly forget a woman sitting in the audience wasn't a worker for the club.

"Come give me a dance, Ma," a guy called to her when she swept past with her empty tray on her way back to the bar.

Califia smiled sweetly, blew him a kiss, but kept it moving.

###

When Misty sauntered back up the stairs, she had a mischievous smile on her face.

"She doesn't want to come up here. Like I told you, all of our ladies have sections they are assigned to. And right now, Li Li is very content where she is."

N'Jobu glanced back down towards the main floor. He saw a man reach out and slap Califia's ass while she was carrying a full tray of beer bottles. He swallowed hard and turned his eyes back towards Misty.

"I can take care of you," Misty said.

N'Jobu took slow deliberate strides over to Misty. He towered over her but brought his lips to her ear.

"Go back down there and tell her this, …inyanga."

"Inyanga?" Misty asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Tell her to come up here again, but if she refuses, get close to her and whisper in her ear, inyanga."

N'Jobu held up another fifty.

Misty stared at him.

"Inyanga?" she said again.

"Perfect," he said. He handed her the fifty and returned to the glass railing. His patience was waning. He didn't want to go down there and cause a scene, but if Califia didn't get her ass up there within the next ten minutes he was liable to go ballistic and bellow her name from the balcony.

###

"What?" Califia asked when Misty crowded her space again.

"That guy in twenty still wants you up there."

"Forget it," Califia said, tucking a wad of bills down into her bra.

Misty stepped closer to her, put her hands onto Califia's arms, and whispered in her ear.

"He told me if you refused to come up again, he wanted me to tell you this…inyanga."

"What? Speak louder, I can't hear you."

"He said if you refused to come to him that I was to tell you this word…inyanga."

Califia eased back from Misty and took a step forward towards the balcony. She still couldn't see the shadowy figure perched up there because of the bright lights and the smoke.

"I'll take your spot," Misty said pulling the empty serving tray from Califia's hand.

Already on autopilot, Califia's legs carried her to the rear of the club, but her eyes were focused up, and eventually, she was able to make out his form and features. She stopped below him. Standing there, eyes raised up to him, the cacophony of action around her became white noise.

Staring down at her, his hands caressing the balcony railing, N'Jobu looked like some ancient haughty Cesar watching a riotous colosseum of bawdy women and lecherous men. How long had he been up there, watching her work? She tried to temper her breathing, but his face in the red glow of the V.I.P. lights had her guessing what he was thinking and feeling. From where she stood, she could clearly see the arch in his eyebrow, the tension in his eyes, and the way his lips poked forward, he was giving her the same stare he had right before he dragged her out of his car and spanked her in the back seat of his BMW. He was giving off molten lava levels of heat. And it was directed at her. She felt her legs quake like she was sinking into quicksand. She waited there like a very bad girl deserving of punishment. The thought made her mouth water.

"N'Jobu," she whispered to herself. His name felt hot and heavy in her mouth, a solid restless thing that needed a release. The moment he saw her lips move with his name, he beckoned with one hand for her to come up.

###

He was drinking champagne when she reached him. Standing near the top of the stairs, Califia watched N'Jobu turn to look at her as he leaned against the balcony.

"Li Li," he said, a smirk dancing on his lips.

She held out her hands.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why are you so far away from me?"

She sauntered in, self-conscious of what she was wearing as his eyes swept across her work uniform.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"You forgot to take the pie I made for you from my car. I was heading home and thought I'd drop it off. Bakari gave me the name of where you were. So here I am."

She glanced around the V.I.P. room.

"So, where's the pie?"

"Come here."

Califia hesitated then took some tentative steps until she was four feet from him.

"You want a drink? It's their best," he said handing his glass to her. She took it, the only time she ever had the opportunity to taste the best bottle her job had to offer. The champagne went down extra bubbly and extra dry. It was quite excellent. She held the glass out for more and N'Jobu walked over to a table and pulled the bottle out of the ice. He replenished the glass and watched her drink her fill. She offered the rest to him and he finished it, placing the glass on the table.

"Does it upset you that I work here in a place like this?"

"A little. If we weren't together, I probably wouldn't care, but it does irk me a bit if there are people here who touch you or look at you. It is your body, but…"

"But what?"

He shrugged.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say. It's my body, but…?"

"All I see in front of me is mine. Just mine. I don't want these cretins touching my treasure. That's all. And you look so damn hot right now, girl."

She pivoted around nice and slow for him then sashayed close to him so that her chest touched his. She played with the collar of his shirt.

"I've been working here for two years. I know how to handle myself. You don't have to worry, and you don't have to check up on me."

"I wasn't checking up, I just wanted to make sure you had your pie. I'm just surprised that this isn't a restaurant."

"Did you think I was dancing on the pole?"

N'Jobu's eyes looked away from her and he pressed his lips together tight searching for an answer.

"You thought you would see me down there on stage doing the do, huh? Admit it!"

N'Jobu tried to play it off, but she pushed her hand into his chest to make him confess the truth.

"Are you disappointed that you didn't catch me in the act?" she asked staring into his face as he tried to avoid direct eye contact. He was embarrassed. She thought he was so adorable when he was embarrassed. He couldn't even look at her when he was in that state.

"Do you want me to go down there and climb on the stage to fulfill your fantasy, sir?" she joked with him, pretending to walk towards the stairs, "I could get Misty up here because God knows she loves to give lap dances."

N'Jobu walked over to her and pulled her hand into his.

"How about you give me a lap dance, Li Li?"

Califia held his gaze, and then she heard the intro beat to a neo-soul jam, heralding the coming of Califia's favorite performer, Medusa.

"Come watch Medusa with me first," she said, pulling N'Jobu back over to the railing, pushing the velvet chairs together.

A woman with long thick honey-brown braids and dark olive skin took the stage, leaping onto the pole by her legs and spinning, her hair spiraling out of control as gravity whipped it around her turns.

Califia watched N'Jobu watch Medusa do her thing as men in the audience began tossing money and catcalling their appreciation for the level of skill Medusa brought.

The woman climbed her way to the ceiling, flipped upside down, released her hands and just allowed herself to slide down all the way to the bottom without hitting the floor with just her thighs. N'Jobu's eyes squinted hard.

"Wow," he said.

"I know," Califia answered.

Medusa pranced around the stage, her movement accentuating and punctuating the lyrics to the song she danced to.

"Not that I would want it, but you would probably be badass down there," N'Jobu said.

"Nah, that's a whole different skill set, baby," Califia said, patting his thigh.

The music switched up and Medusa elevated her game, causing Califia to jump up and clap.

"Get it, Medusa!" Califia yelled.

Medusa grabbed her own braids and swung her body around, dropping into the splits where they could all admire her abundant ass cheeks as they jiggled in time to the beat.

"I see you all still do that twerking thing," N'Jobu said.

"You think she's hot?" Califia asked.

"Yes. She's beautiful," he said looking up at Califia. He stayed seated and watched her gyrate in her shorts, her decadent thighs having the same effect on him as the patrons that sat downstairs. She raised her arms above her head and shook them with the music, and she felt his intense focus on her face without looking at him. When she did allow herself to look at him again, his eyes drifted to her neck and the cleavage she displayed that had money spilling from it.

"Califia," he said, his voice going low, constrained by what she guessed was his need to touch her.

Califia kept winding her body, her butt flexing and bouncing a bit as she moved in her heels. He tapped her arm.

"Califia," he said again.

She turned to look at him and noticed a change in his demeanor. That heat was back in his eyes.

"I want you to give me a lap dance," he said, patting his thigh.

Her head tilted.

"Well sir, we have rules," she said, running her fingers over her two braids and straightening them on her shoulders.

"I will abide by all of them," he said.

She gave him a long contemplative look then became all business.

"Give me a minute," she said and rushed downstairs.

###

Califia met Misty at the entrance bar.

"So," Misty said, looking Califia up and down, "how is that guy in twenty treating you? He's fucking hot."

Califia reached for four shots of the most expensive tequila the club had and placed them on a tray.

"That guy happens to be my boyfriend."

"No shit?"

"Yep."

"The guy with the black American Express card, Rolex, Hugo Boss fits and come-hither eyes?"

"That's my man."

Misty looked her up and down again.

"He seems a little refined for what I'd expect you to catch."

Califia knew Misty could get a little greasy when she was jealous, which was rare. It made Califia wonder how hard she tried to persuade N'Jobu to keep her as his server.

"How long have you two been together?"

"A year," Califia lied.

"Okay, girl. Still waters run deep, I guess. Wouldn't think you could pull someone like that."

Califia picked up her drinks.

"Darla knows this already, but he doesn't want anyone else coming up there. So pass the word along, would you?" Califia said, walking away with the tray and swiveling her hips. When she faced the security guard she nudged him with her elbow.

"The gentleman upstairs doesn't want to be bothered. Please make sure no one comes up unless he requests them personally. Especially Misty."

###

Califia and N'Jobu tossed back both shots of the tequila she brought up. She made him sit on one of the couches furthest away from the railing where they couldn't be seen. Above the couch were adjustable lights in various colors to set any type of mood. Califia chose a soft white light that allowed him to see, but not harsh enough to kill the mood.

Standing before him she held her hands on her hips.

"Rule number one. No touching."

"Got it," he said.

"Rule number two. No means no. Rule number three, I can stop at any time I choose, and if you make me feel uncomfortable, I will call Rusty, the security guard at the bottom of the stairs."

"Anything else?"

"Have fun."

Califia felt the tequila coursing through her as it chased the champagne she had earlier. She could feel the spreading warmth move from her throat and ease down into her chest. N'Jobu watched her face, his legs slightly parted with his hands resting on the sides of his hips.

The boom bap of the music down below was piped into their V.I.P. area with small but powerful JBL speakers above them. She didn't like the song that was playing, and once Medusa left the stage, the DJ returned to bargain basement beats.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to read her facial expression.

"This song sucks…," she said, wishing she could have an on/off switch to shut down the music.

"I don't care about the music," he said.

She was ready to answer him when a slower seductive instrumental piped in.

"That'll work," she said as the tequila-infused her with liquid courage.

She bent down and kissed him softly on his lips then eased back.

Lord, please don't let this come off corny, she thought as she slid her hands down her waist and onto her knees. She spread her legs and dropped down to the floor. She kept her eyes on him until she spun around in her heels so that she was facing opposite him and eased herself back up so that her ass was near his face. She dropped down onto his lap and heard a slight groan escape him as his hands reached out to hold her waist. She already knew he wanted to lift her up and down.

"I said no touching."

She slapped his hands away as she did slow gyrations on his thighs then lowered her hands to grab her ankles, her legs in an upside-down V formation. She flexed the muscles in her ass causing small spasms of movement in each cheek.

N'Jobu said something in his own language as her fingers did a slow glide back up her legs. She angled her torso so that she could look back at him. She dropped back onto his thighs and inched her way further back on his lap until she could feel herself sitting on his dick.

She rested her hands on his knees, leaned forward and bounced, feeling his semi-erection grow under her. He thrust his hips a bit and she gripped his knees tighter to keep herself steady. The silky thin material of her short shorts was really a poor barrier, and she could feel him stiffening more beneath her wiggling. The tiny black G-string she wore tugged on her labia, the friction causing a pleasurable tingling sensation. She found herself exhaling through her mouth. She wanted to see his face.

Turning her body around, she rolled her hips on his lap, feeling her clit rub against his bulge. She exhaled harder, finding herself losing a bit of focus on the task at hand as she made small circles with her hips. She reached up and pushed her breasts together, her tight shirt forcing her tits to spill from her push up bra. Her nipples perked up, and she tweaked them through the shirt and bra with her fingers. N'Jobu's eyes darted between her face, chest, and waist. Her shorts were sticking to the shape of her vulva and she saw his eyes narrow as he noticed the evidence of her arousal.

"Califia," he whispered, still thrusting his constricted erection between her thighs, "let me see your pussy."

Her eyes closed involuntarily at the sound of his request. She was supposed to be running this lap dance. Not him. When she re-opened her eyes, she saw him staring at her mound, his lips parted, and his face constricted in a way that could be read as both pleasure and pain. He stopped thrusting into her, eyes still on her lower half.

"Ahhh, please…let me see your pussy."

She took her right hand and patted her vulva.

"You want to see it, baby?"

"Yesssss, please," he murmured.

She took her time reaching down between them to slide the material of her shorts to the side with one hand. Her other hand plucked at the G-string and they both saw a shiny thread of her arousal sticking to the panties. She tugged on it so that the thin black material spread open the right side of her inner lips and he could see her opening.

"Califia, shit," he groaned, his index and middle finger reaching over and scissoring her clit. He stared at the small trimmed thatch of her reddish pubic hairs on her mound and the freshly waxed smoothness of her vulva. She felt the flow of blood causing her to engorge, making her pussy a succulent oasis for the perfect dick.

"There are rules. No touching," she said brushing away his fingers, but patting her clit herself. N'Jobu's lips were pressed together in a tight line, his eyes steady on her hand slapping her own skin.

"Look at your fat pussy, baby," he said, his fingers on both hands twitching, trying to hold back from fingering her. His eyes raised to gaze at her again. His face looked twisted in anguish, and it turned her on. She unfastened his pants and he helped her slide his slacks and silk boxers down. She slid her fingers around his fat cock and placed it between her legs so that her slickened labia spread right below the head. She shifted her weight and began rubbing her pussy on his dick. They both could hear the sound of it slipping and sliding on him. N'Jobu's hands made another pitiful attempt to touch her, this time groping for her ass, but she slapped them away again and reached for his white gold neck chain necklace, twisting it in her hand so that she was actually choking him with it.

"I said no touching! Can't you follow the rules, sir?"

His eyes widened a bit with surprise, but she felt his cock pulse underneath her. She held onto the twisted chain and kept grinding on him, a slow tickling building up in her clit. She looked down at her labia pressed onto him. A thin drizzle of pre-cum spilled from his tip and she watched it roll down and coat her lower lips. She gasped and released his chain.

"Bay-bee…," she moaned out to him.

"Go ahead, girl. Give me that pussy."

"Uh, huh, uh, huh,…hmmmm…," was all she got out.

"That's your dick…that's your dick…that's all yours," he uttered, encouraging her to keep grinding on him.

"Huh, Jobu…," she said. She felt her voice straining, the wet evidence of her desire flowing out, making his dick shiny.

"Open up your pussy, let me see it," he said.

Califia reached down, lifted up from his dick and spread open her labia, her slippery fingers barely able to keep her folds spread apart. She saw his mouth drop open again while a deeply felt groan tumbled from his lips.

"You're coming home with me tonight," he said, still staring at her pussy.

"Bay-bee…," she whimpered.

"Look at me…I said look at me, Califia."

She kept her pussy spread open for him but allowed her eyes to rest on his face. The intensity she saw there brought her anxious desire for him to the surface. She closed her eyes seeking a little shelter from his gorgeous face, just enough of a break to let her gather her wits and keep from being overwhelmed by his forceful energy.

"Tell me you want me inside you tonight," he said.

She needed to rub herself against him, needed that fat dick to be buried in her balls deep. She couldn't take any more waiting.

"I want you inside me," she blurted out, "I need to be in your bed. I need you to be in my pussy, Jobu."

She spread her thighs so that her pussy splayed open wider.

"Shit," he said, his eyes wrenched back to her opening, "I'm going to be in there deep, baby."

Califia yelped and dropped back on him with her clit on his dick, rocking him with a frantic energy.

"You want me in there deep?" he asked.

"Yes!" she snapped, her body lurched forward as she held onto his shoulders. He enclosed his fingers around her waist to balance her.

"You'll take all this dick?"

"Yes, baby."

"All of it?"

"Bay-bee—"

"All this dick. Right?!"

"Yes—"

"Say it then! All of it!"

"I'll take all of it! All your dick…all your dick…all of it…Oh…God….Jobu…Jobu…Jobu…"

Califia's head fell forward onto his shoulder and she was cumming,…hard…all over his dick. She trembled in his lap as the spasms in her core rocked her into a state of bliss, her skin thrumming with the feverish release of her orgasm. She felt her toes bunch up as her thighs squeezed his hips.

She felt N'Jobu pull her close to him and she felt the warm breath of his mouth blowing in her ear. He was talking to her in his language again, the soft dulcet tones bringing her back to her senses. She felt his fingers pulling her G-string and shorts back into place despite the stickiness she felt still dripping out of her.

"Go get your things. We're leaving," he said.

"But I have to finish my shift—"

"Fuck that shift," he said, pulling her off of him and fixing his own clothes, "Go. Hurry up. I'll meet you down by the bar near the exit. I need to close out my tab."

She stared at him. They were finally going to do this.

"Call your grandmother and tell her you're not coming home," he said.

Califia saw the heat growing in his eyes again. She was still giddy from her orgasm.

"Don't even bother changing, just get your stuff," he said.

She ran down the stairs. All she could think about was his bed and him on top of her. At last.

###

N'Jobu paid for his time and drinks in V.I.P. Rainbow girl and Misty watched him as he waited for Califia. Misty, in particular, was giving him stares that made him feel like she was upset about something. Their manager, Darla, was not happy when N'Jobu announced in a brisk tone that they needed to find someone else to replace Califia for good.

When Califia walked back from getting her backpack and helmet, N'Jobu interlaced his fingers with hers and guided her out of the club.

"My bike is in the employee parking—"

"We'll come back for it tomorrow," he said shoving open the front double doors of the club.

Outside, the staccato click-clack of her heels echoed in his ears. When they reached his car, he opened the passenger side for her and couldn't keep his eyes off her backside when she climbed in.

He wanted to spank her.

The compulsion rose up in him so fast he had to catch his breath. But he had to get her home first, get her naked, make her understand that he wasn't playing about getting deep inside of her. His dick was a solid mass of neediness. She had him wound up tight, and now that he saw her pussy, and what awaited his cock, he had to fight an inner battle not to fuck her in the backseat right there in the parking lot. He prayed that the fresh box of ultra-thin condoms he had waiting at home could withstand the intense thrusts he had planned for her. He had to close his eyes for a moment when he opened his driver's side door. He hadn't felt this type of anticipation in a long ass time. It was making him feel punch drunk.

Watching her face when she orgasmed gave him such a rush. Even though he loved to hear his women talk back to him when he shared pleasure with them, Califia made his dick even harder with just the sounds and facial expressions she made. Those soft but desperate pants…the way her voice went "Oh!" when his dick rubbed her delicate folds just right, spreading his wetness all over her juicy clit. When he was on the edge, his lips parting as he watched her chase her orgasm, she seemed to pick up on his heightened pleasure, creating a feedback loop that spun him into his tortuous goal of not cumming until they were between his sheets. His balls had become so heavy that he thought he was going to lose it when thankfully, she let go first. He felt that Califia-induced tunnel vision closing in on him.

He started up the car and led them out of the cul-de-sac and away from the club. The first red light he came to, he looked over at her and knew he was in trouble. She had taken off her push up bra, and he could see her hard nipples poking through her top. And those fucking thighs of hers. He reached over and tugged on her shorts.

"Pull those down. To your ankles," he said.

Her eyes drifted across his face. The hard-line look in his eyes let her know he wanted it done right away. She pulled them down, letting her shorts and G-string sit atop her heels. He reached over with his right hand giving her mound a gentle tap.

"Open your legs," he said.

"Hmphh,…baby," she sighed, spreading her thighs a little bit. He tapped her there again a little harder with two fingers. She let her head fall back onto the headrest, but she kept her fervent eyes on him while twisting her lips.

"Show me your pussy again," he demanded, "use both of your hands."

Califia gently peeled back her inner lips and opened her center up to him. He checked the traffic light again. It was still red. He wet his ring and index finger with his mouth, then reached over and teased her opening. When her strained whimpering got the best of him, he inserted his fingers inside of her, just to the first knuckle.

"Jobu," she gasped. He pressed in more, all the way in, curling his fingers a bit. He started to tap along her wall.

The light turned green and he kept his fingers inside of her, giving slow rhythmic thrusts as he drove.

"I'm getting this pussy ready," he said, "don't move."

Driving closer to his apartment, he made his digits work a little faster. She dropped her fingers from her opening when they reached another red light.

"No, …put them back. Keep your pussy open for me, just like that…yes…wider…you're so wet for me…open it wider…yesssss… look at that pretty pussy…"

Her whimpering devolved into raw tremulous pants. Her eyes were still on him but at half-mast. He pulled his fingers out and yanked her top up so he could see her breasts.

"Fuck…," he said, squeezing her left breast and fussing with her nipple, "keep that pussy open."

She did. He played with her tits, then stuck three fingers inside of her. She kept her eyes on him.

"I like how you hold that pussy open for me," he said stroking her insides. She squirmed in the seat.

They came to another red light and he pulled his fingers out.

"Play with your tits for me."

Califia cradled and kneaded her breasts with such sensual touches that he found himself mumbling curse words in Wakandan. He told her how nice and ripe her breasts were, how he couldn't wait to suck on them after he fucked the shit out of her. She had no idea what he was saying, but he sensed the tone in which he spoke to her was getting his message across. Crude thoughts consumed his mind and he couldn't help it. He felt intoxicated watching her while also watching for the light to change.

Her thumbs and index fingers massaged her nipples, plucking them at intervals that made him forget to check the light. His escalating desire was making him impatient. He slipped his fingers back inside of her, hooking them so that he could tease her clit with the rest of his hand. He drove on while still giving her thrusts with his fingers. His dick jumping in his pants was almost unbearable.

"Jobu," she whined, and he couldn't look at her, his eyes fixed on the road, trying to make it safely to his apartment without crashing because of her distracting wet pussy. He spoke to her again in Wakandan, his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth brushing near his incisors as his words now incorporated the traditional clicks of his language. It was when he was telling her how she was making him feel and his tongue made a loud "clop" sound that she lost it.

He felt a tightening on his fingers and heard a long drawn out moan stagger from her mouth in waves.

"Yes, baby," he shouted at her as he felt her thighs slam shut around his fingers, "cum on my hand!"

He pulled up to the security gate of his apartment and put his car in park awkwardly with his left hand. Turning his head, he stared down at his fingers between her legs and then dragged his eyes up to her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she had her hands cupping her breasts like a divine offering. He wanted to reach into his pants and pull out his erection so he could decorate her tits with his semen, but his bed was mere seconds away in his mind.

He gently removed his fingers from inside of her, and her eyes parted open slightly, barely registering his face. He stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste her.

"Fuck," he said, licking his fingers with deliberate care as she watched him with sated eyes.

He found his parking spot and watched her slowly pull up her G-string and shorts. Hopping out of the driver's side, he wasted no time grabbing her backpack from the backseat and helping her out on wobbly legs. He clasped her hand and walked her up the stairs and into his home.

###

She felt like she was floating.

The minute they were inside the apartment, N'Jobu tossed her backpack on the couch and began kissing her without turning any lights on. She matched his intensity as he backed her towards his bedroom. When he had her in front of his open bedroom door he released her lips but kept his face near hers. She could feel heat radiating from his body. Draping her hands around his neck, she waited for him to say something.

"Is everything okay?" she finally asked when a minute seemed to pass and he didn't move or say anything. Was he changing his mind? His enthusiasm seemed to taper off.

"N'Jobu?"

She touched his face, unable to see him well in the dark hallway. He reached behind her and turned on his bedroom lights. His face illuminated, she realized she was mistaken about his excitement tapering off. She could see a yearning in his eyes, and his lips made her ache to kiss him again.

"I want to take my time with you," he finally said, touching one of her braids.

"Okay," she answered, giving him a shy smile.

He stared at her a bit longer, like he was trying to figure out the words he wanted to say. In the car, his voice rumbled foreign words that coaxed her into a state of uninhibited physical abandon. Sitting in a car with her legs spread open, the old torments of worrying that she would take forever to relax and climax was gone. She tumbled so fast into her orgasm that she almost forgot where she was when he helped her out of his car.

Trusting her instincts, Califia stepped into his bedroom backward, slowly unbuttoning her top. The track lights in his bedroom were ultra-bright. N'Jobu reached over and tried to lower the intensity of the lighting.

"Keep them all the way up. I want to see all of you," she said, kicking off her heels and sliding her shorts and panties off.

She stepped away from her clothes and kept easing back until her calves hit the bed. It was a lot lower than she expected. Glancing around she saw that all his furniture was dark chestnut, and he had a wing-backed chair propped near his mirrored sliding closet doors.

Looking back at him, she watched him unbutton his shirt, taking it off along with a black t-shirt and tossing them onto the chair. As he slipped off his shoes and socks, Califia crawled onto his bed, resting on her knees with her thighs spread wide. She skimmed her fingers around her breasts, cupping them in her hands and holding them up for him. His eyes were glued to her nipples as he slipped out of his pants and underwear.

Her eyes drifted down to look at his cock.

Jesus.

He was still semi-erect, but if he had more to fill out…

She felt a fiery electric spark race up her spine. He was the most beautiful naked man she had ever seen. Every ratio on his body was in proportion for complete perfection, and she couldn't get over the even rich color of skin. His white-gold necklace glowed against his ebony skin. Her eyes raked up and down his body and she was especially intrigued by the deep V lines that ran from his waist to his groin.

Plucking her nipples again, she rested her thighs back on her haunches. His eyes never left her breasts and she saw his dick grow to full hardness without him touching it, the weight of it making it bob up and down. A small gasp left her mouth and her fingers found their way between her legs as she played with her prominent slick folds. His eyes caught that movement as she teased her opening. She was learning all the things that got him off, and opening up her pussy lips and displaying them was a big turn on for him, so she tormented him a bit by opening and closing her folds while bouncing a bit on his bed, letting her pussy touch the expensive duvet. It worked. He grabbed his dick in one hand and slapped the weight of it in the other.

"Ooh..shit…" she whispered and fell all the way back on the bed, stunned by the loud thwack sound his dick made as he struck his palm several times with it. She bent her knees and spread her legs, working her fingers in small circles around her clit as she watched him approach her.

N'Jobu stroked his dick and kept his eyes fixed on her eyes. Califia sunk her fingers back inside herself, already super-charged by the sight of his cock and that fat sack of his. Her nose was crinkled and she felt her eyes squeeze shut as she smooshed her lips together. She craved another orgasm.

She felt her thighs being hooked and dragged to the edge of the bed. Eyes snapping open, she found N'Jobu down on his knees by the side of the bed with his face between her legs. Her thighs were hanging over his muscular arms.

"Lay back," he said in a soft voice.

"But I want to watch you," she whispered back.

He stared in her eyes for a few seconds.

"Then watch," he said, placing his entire mouth over her pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh."

N'Jobu sucked pussy liked he sucked on her tits; Gentle. Probing. And oh, so slow.

The hair on his goatee gave a delicious tickle to her private parts, and he flattened his wide tongue to roll over her folds. His tongue explored each side of her labia, and when he feasted on her clit with delicate licks and circular sucking motions, she felt like she wanted to cry because he was gazing at her with such adoration as he did it. Every now and then his eyes would close and he would use his mouth to hum and vibrate her pussy. Lapping up her juices, he dipped his tongue in and out, still holding her thighs apart.

"Hunnhhhhhh," came out of her mouth, and he slowed down to an even more excruciating snail-like pace. All she could think was, This nigga is tryna kill me before I even get the dick.

His fingers slid up her waist and ribcage, gripping her breasts in each hand, squeezing, shaking, and claiming their fullness. Once he toyed with her nipples, an inner connection was made and a strong sexual current shot down to her clit. She began to moan and he lifted his head to stare at her pussy.

"Damn…Califia…girl….look at your pussy twitching…."

She lifted herself higher on her elbows and looked down at his glistening lips, goatee, and cheeks as his eyes were riveted to her clit. She could see herself jumping down there. He was mesmerized, allowing his tongue to dip and lick inside her juicy wet opening, then watch the reaction of her clit as it continued to quiver on its own. He took his thumb and pressed down on her clit with light pressure, then gave a slow delicate swirl to it with his tongue.

"Bay-bee," she said, wanting to cum all in his mouth at that point.

"Califia, I need to cum, real quick. I just…I have to… I can't…ah…shit…"

N'Jobu released her thighs and she saw his right hand grab his dick and stroke it.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Was he about to bust one while he hadn't finished her off?

Legs splayed open, and her pussy on the verge of imploding from his mouth, she watched him stare at her pussy while he long stroked himself. He placed his fingers under the fat head and tugged hard.

"Your pussy is still twitching, girl. Goddammit….goddammit…your pussy—"

He gritted his teeth as he aimed his dick towards the hem of the duvet and released a stream of semen along with a painful groan that excited her even more. After draining his dick, N'Jobu looked at the puddle of cum he left on the bottom of the bed cover.

"Fuck," he said, his breathing unsteady, his fingers releasing his cock.

Before she could bitch to him, he was back on her pussy with a vengeance, and this time she fell all the way on her back, letting him have his way. Staring at the ceiling all she could hear was the smacking of his lush lips, the sublime gushy sounds escaping between her thighs with each lap of his tongue. She reached down and stroked his head with her fingers. He nipped, sucked, and swallowed everything that she gave him, and when he started humming and making her skin vibrate at her core once more, she gratefully came undone, her hips and legs bucking with unrestrained ardor. He had to hold her thighs apart to keep her from smothering him.

Looking down at him, he had a smile on his face as he studied her reaction.

"Oh my God…Jobu…baby…what the fuck?!"

Her body jerked a bit, and she closed her eyes, drawing in deep breaths to control her trembling. N'Jobu crawled up alongside her and kissed her. She sucked her own taste from his mouth and loved every moment of it as he fingered her right breast.

Drawing her in closer, he draped his arm over her stomach and kissed her cheek.

"You taste so fucking good," he said.

She beamed as she felt her body sink into a languorous state. She was so happy that she didn't have to leave his bed right away. She had texted Soliel at the club that she wouldn't be coming to spend the night with her, so there was no need to tell her grandmother anything. She wasn't expected anywhere until Saturday evening.

She stretched her body like a well-fed cat and threw her arm across N'Jobu's, looking him in his eyes.

"You made me feel so good. Three orgasms…"

She stretched again, a small yawn escaping her lips.

"Tired?" he asked.

"It's been a long day."

"It has," he said, kissing her cheek again, "you want to take a shower?"

The fingers on his left hand were still stroking and plying her breasts with light caresses, and she felt hypnotized by the motion. He would circle a nipple, then squeeze her breasts so that her large areolas would peek out from his hand. He bent his head to suck and bite at them as he was talking to her.

"I can give you a long clean t-shirt, and I have a lot of different body washes you can choose from…"

She tried to concentrate on his words but his handling of her breasts had her revving up again.

"Damn, you suck titties so good, boy…" she said, arching her back as his nipple play had her opening her legs again.

She reached up and pulled his hand back down between her legs, then reached for his dick. It had gone slightly soft. Slightly.

"So, a shower?" he said.

"I want you in me," she said showing no restraint as she worked his cock.

His eyes bulged when she squeezed his balls.

"Didn't you promise me you would go deep inside me?"

She massaged his cock until it was standing at attention. He grabbed it away from her and dragged it up and down and around her opening. When he pressed it against her center, she looked down at it nervously. It was so big. She watched him tease circles in her folds. He didn't think he wasn't going to use a condom, did he? She tensed a bit when she thought he was going to shove himself inside her unprotected and placed her hand on his hand to stop him from trying.

He kissed her again and rolled over towards a pillow. He reached under and pulled out a condom. She felt her body go slack with relief. He tore open the packet and rolled the condom onto himself. It was clear and fit his huge dick like a thin layer of skin. It was a brand she was unfamiliar with. Of course, he had a dick size that was new to her too.

N'Jobu pulled her closer and kissed her, and she eased into his full lips. In all honesty, they could kiss all night and she would be enthralled with him, but his dick was jutting out and striking her belly. He brushed a finger over her breasts again then whispered in her ear.

"Are you ready for me?"

"Yes."

He stroked her clit again, then dipped his fingers lower.

"So wet," he muttered.

He positioned himself between her legs, and she rested her thighs in her own hands, lifting them up a bit, presenting herself to him. She saw his face quake when she did that. There was something about serving herself up to him that just sent him over the edge. He reached over and grabbed a pillow for her lifting her up a bit and placing it under her back for comfort.

He looked down into her eyes, and she felt a swelling in her heart. He kept his eyes on her, then looked down for a second as he lined up his cock. She felt him press the head of his dick inside her, and then his eyes were back on her.

He pushed in slowly, watching the expression on her face. She shifted her hips as he eased in more. He was a third of the way in when the sensation of being too full too fast overtook her and she tensed.

"Am I hurting you?" The concern in his voice made her more comfortable.

"Give me a second to get used to it," she gritted through her teeth. He pulled back a little.

"No, don't pull out…just…take it slow…I'll be okay," she said.

The sensation felt so good, and so overwhelming at the same time. There was no dick like new dick, and N'Jobu was packing the good stuff. She wiggled on him a bit, and he exhaled hard, still gazing at her face.

"You're so juicy… pussy gripping me tight…," he said. She watched a sheen of perspiration accumulate on his brow.

He gave her small shallow thrusts and she got used to the shocking fullness. She spread her legs wider, removing her hands from her thighs and resting them on the planes of his chest. He looked down at his dick going inside of her.

"You okay?" he asked, staring into her eyes again.

"Go deeper," she said.

His eyes reacted to her words and he shifted his hips and thrust in further, making her lips press together then open suddenly.

"Oh…shit…," she said wrapping her arms around his neck, gently scraping her nails on his nape.

They both could hear his dick going inside of her. He pulled out a few inches, then slid back in a little further than he was before. He was stretching her out and it felt incredible. She laid back to watch him. His eyes fixed on hers, but they took on an intimate unguarded look. She could tell he was turned on by her and probably wanted to do more but also wanted to make her comfortable with his restraint.

She couldn't take it anymore.

"Fuck me."

N'Jobu lifted up his knees throwing her legs over his arms and plunged his cock as deep as he could get. She tried to watch his dick going in and out of her, but at that point, she needed to be fucked well by him, and just clung to his neck. His hips slamming into her were unwavering as he stroked deep inside her tight walls. She could feel her juices spilling against his thighs thanks to all those orgasms he gave her earlier. She couldn't hold onto him any longer and just fell back on the bed. He shifted again and pressed himself on top of her, his mouth searing the side of her neck as he sucked on it while slamming his cock into her. She felt his mouth angle up her face until he was rasping into her ear, "I'm balls deep, girl…shit…you're taking all this dick…fuck."

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held tight to his back.

He was hers.

She laid back and pondered every sensation he gave her, his lips right at her ear as he whispered things to her and only her.

"Jobu, you feel so good in my pussy."

"This pussy is all mine, right?'

"Yes," she moaned, "you're in so deep baby…so deep…"

"I should've been fucking you a long time ago," he said, pulling out slowly. He swiveled his hips and slid back in even slower. She wanted him fast and hard and began bucking her hips.

"Harder, baby…," she said, wanting his balls to slap against her ass.

"Harder?"

"Yes…harder…and faster… I want you to cum."

He stopped moving and lifted up to stare down at her.

"Is that what you want?" He said pulling his dick all the way out and slamming it back into her fast. Her eyes snapped shut. She took a deep shaky breath and opened them again.

"Fuck me," she whimpered, her eyes watery, her legs becoming tired and heavy. He lifted her legs up and threw them over his shoulder and drove his cock in until he bottomed out.

"You asked for this…is this what you wanted?"

His thighs were so strong pressed into her and she was so deliriously happy that they could be loud, nasty, and alone.

"I want it, baby. Give it," she answered.

N'Jobu's face was like a man possessed. He fucked her with abandon and precise dickmanship. She thought of the time when Serah told her about the way he fucked, and that bitch wasn't lying at all. She just let him go, and he was hitting angles and spots in her pussy that she didn't know she had. She was going to be sore later, that was a given because his dick was relentless. And she was taking it. His bed rattled and she allowed her fingers to graze across his taut nipples. His deep penetration worked her back out, and she relished every pull on her muscles that he dragged out of her.

"Damn this pussy is so good," he said.

"It's all yours," she said, reaching up and twisting his gold chain.

"Say that again," he urged, his voice straining.

She pulled and twisted his chain, choking him a bit.

"This pussy is all yours. Take it. Take it all baby," she said, squeezing her thighs tight.

"Ah fuck…." His lips parted and he was exhaling through his mouth now. She wiggled her ass and internally, she squeezed her walls now that she was fully comfortable with his dick.

"I feel you," he said, closing his eyes above her. She still pulled on his chain.

"You want to cum?" she asked him, her own voice sounded like it was going to crack. She released his necklace.

"Fuck my dick," he said, spreading her legs out further and pressing them down into the mattress. He reached up and squeezed her tits, then reached down to grip her waist. He was losing it. She wiggled on him, matching his thrusts and tightening her pussy on his dick, the friction between them a molten wet mess. He looked down at where they were joined.

"Damn, you're creaming everywhere!"

Lifting her head, she looked down and saw that it was true.

"You made me do that," she said.

"That's my fault?"

"Yes."

He gave her the biggest smile and then his face contorted when she gyrated and clenched his dick at the same time.

"This… good…pussy…fuck...I'm cumming!"

They both looked down at his surging cock and watched as it pumped semen into the condom.

"That's it, baby, give it to me," she said, taking her fingers and widening her labia for him.

"You're so good, girl…I'm filling this shit up-"

His voice broke and then he was speaking Wakandan to her until his hips jerked.

He squeezed her left breast hard, then collapsed in a satisfied heap on top of her. She held him tight and kissed his forehead. When his breathing returned to normal she heard him say, "You better call whoever you need to. You aren't leaving here for the next two days."

Chapter 16 HERE.

###

#n'jobu #njobu #n'jobu fanfic #blackpanther #black panther #daddykillmonger

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Passion burning, causing rapture of laughter Pressure building, falling faster and faster If I told you that you rock my world, I want you around me Would you let me call you my girl, my girlfriend, my girlfriend? I can give you the life you deserve, just say the word, baby And I got you, darling, I got you

1500 or Nothin—“Girl”

   October 5th, 20—

It is early morning, and I must write down my thoughts. I confess that I have not been consistent with writing in my journal as I had challenged myself to do while staying in this country. But there are so many distractions, (good ones!) that it is hard to sit still and just transcribe words onto paper.

I finally went to one of Bakari’s BSU meetings a few days ago. I admit that it actually turned out to be a productive use of my time. I met some interesting people. However, I embarrassed myself in front of a woman who is a good friend of Bakari. Her name is Califia Stevens. Bakari has known this woman since he was ten. They grew up together. She is a dancer for the group he drums for. He says she’s one of the best in the city.

I meet different women all the time, and I am usually very good at knowing where I stand with them, but Holy Bast, this woman, I feel like I’m wearing roller skates and trying to cross a road filled with marbles when I speak to her. I knew I was in trouble when I made the mistake of questioning why her father did not feed her while she was on a visit with him. She said he was in prison, and I swear to Sekmet, my face turned to stone. She noticed my kimoyo beads and then Andrea, the woman I am seeing now, rescued me from the quicksand of my ignorance.

I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but I feel like I made a horrible first impression and I need to redeem myself to her. She is so different. Very direct with people. Fierce. She came into the meeting towards the end, and the moment she walked in the door, I felt like the energy in the room shifted. She is very striking to look at. Her skin is so brown, like the deep dark red-brown clay near Warrior Falls back home. And she has these dark freckles all over her nose and cheeks. I have never met a Black woman with hair the natural color of cinnamon. She reminds me so much of someone from back home, and I just can’t remember who. She is both familiar and strange to me. Normally I would feel uneasy with people who keep me on edge, but there is something about her that intrigues me. She was fairly dismissive of me. The only time she took an interest was when she saw my beads.

I must make a note that she touched my hand to get a look at my beads, and she gave me a static electricity shock with her touch. I shall take that as a warning sign from Bast that Califia should be given a wide berth from me in the future. If I ever see her again. She and Bakari seem close, but he has never brought her around to the apartment like his other friends. She is very opinionated, and I must take a look at this book she came to the meeting to talk about. I have seen this writer Aarav on television. He seems pretty benign, but Califia was very heated about his message. I hear the term “anti-Black” being thrown around a lot. Aarav comes from immigrants and is Indian American, and I’m sure as a person of color himself, he must be aware of the problems Black Americans encounter at times. Califia called him a piece of shit. I don’t know if this is a fair assessment of someone she doesn’t know personally, but the BSU crowd didn’t challenge her assertion. Andrea has a copy of the book and will loan it to me. I will read it this weekend.

The rest of the time there I spoke with Andrea and her classmates. They are in the Literature Department. Really smart women. And Andrea, well, let’s just say that Renaissance Literature isn’t the only thing she’s good at.

Bakari seemed pleased that I finally attended a meeting. He is a good man. I am glad that we have become roommates and friends. When we moved in together last June, I wasn’t sure if I could take his “All Black Everything All The Time” energy. Now after five months, I can truly say he’s one of my closest friends here. The man is brilliant. He’ll probably end up an influential lobbyist in Washington one day. But he is sincere with the love of his people. He and Califia seem to have a shared sense of purpose. They really want to save Black people from… I don’t know what really, but they are passionate.

I am curious to know why Califia’s father is in prison. I know she has a full dance scholarship to SFSU, and Bakari told me her home life is a little sketchy. It must be difficult to live with a parent you love incarcerated for a long time. Bakari said her father has been in prison since she was thirteen. It’s part of why she and Bakari are so close. He wouldn’t divulge anything more out of respect for Califia’s privacy. Their relationship appears completely platonic. Califia talks to him like a younger sibling. But the other day he was talking about her, something trivial about a drumming rehearsal and how Califia never wants to listen to the drum cues and moves when she wants to, and I have to say, the gleam in his eye tells me he probably wishes they were something more. I could be reading more into it than there really is. He definitely admires her.

More soon.

N.U.

 N’Jobu left the pen he was using in between the pages of his journal and placed the leather-bound pages inside the drawer next to his bed and turned off his bedside lamp. His nude body slipped comfortably back under the silk plum-colored sheets and matching duvet. It was 5a.m., the sky just starting to lighten outside his bedroom window. The world was still quiet.

He felt a warm body shift next to his right side, and then Andrea’s arm was draped across him, her soft fingers caressing the hard planes of his chest. She allowed an index finger to circle his left nipple which hardened at her attention.

“You finished writing?” she whispered. Her short curly bob of jet black hair cascaded all around her face, and without her make-up on, she was even more gorgeous in N’Jobu’s eyes. He glanced down at her lips which were plump, but small. They turned him on because when he had his cock down her throat the night before, it just made his dick look even bigger and more powerful sliding in and out.

“Yes,” he answered.

Her fingers left his nipple and descended to his stomach, tracing the indentations of his six-pack abs, and then teased further down until she was gripping his already thickening cock in her hand. She gave two short tugs on the head, then a long and languid stroke.

“Damn, woman. You still hungry for more?” he laughed, pulling the covers back so he could watch her delicate hand work his length.

Andrea leaned in closer. He could see her full breasts and pert nipples just waiting for his tongue and touch. She cupped his balls and gave a slight squeeze and he moaned.

“N’Jobu, baby, you have such a pretty dick,” she said.

“You like this dick?”

“I love this dick,” she said.

“Why do you love this dick?” he asked.

N’Jobu was a verbal man when it came to sex. He liked to talk and be talked to, and it was hard to find women who were good at it without sounding like fake corny ass porn stars. However, Andrea was a woman who knew how to make that verbal shit sing.

She sat up and positioned herself between his legs, holding onto his dick and arching her back so he could see her ass in the air. N’Jobu felt his mouth part open as he released a deep sigh at the beauty of what she presented to him. She took her velvety tongue and licked him from his balls all the way up to the tip of his length.

“I love this dick because it’s so long and thick, Daddy. The head is so big, I can barely get my mouth around it…”

Andrea opened her lips and took in the large mushroom cap of his dick, her tongue playing with the head using teasing licks, and then sucking out the pre-cum that was already dripping from him.

“And baby, you have such a big fat sack, I love to feel your balls slapping against my ass…” she continued, now engulfing more of his cock into her warm mouth.

“Show me how much you love this dick,” he growled out, now gripping her hair with his left hand. Andrea slid her mouth further down, and began bobbing her head, her left hand holding her balance, her right hand still caressing his heavy balls. N’Jobu’s eyes alternated between watching her hallowed out cheeks bulging with his thickness and the jiggle in her round brown ass cheeks.

Andrea came up for air and stared into N’Jobu’s heavy-lidded eyes. His lush lips were twisted up in a way that tried to hold in deep moans from disturbing Bakari in the bedroom across the small hallway. It wasn’t working.

“You got me so wet,” Andrea said, catching her breath.

“Let me hear it then,” he said, releasing his grip on her hair and leaning back on his elbows. He watched her right hand release his twitching dick and snake between her legs. She took two fingers and plunged them into her slick opening. Wiggling her fingers around, she gazed at him with euphoric, almost dazed eyes, and they both could hear the wet slippery sounds so loud in the quiet room.

“You hear it, Daddy?” Andrea asked, adding a third finger.

“I hear your pussy baby,” N’Jobu said, gripping his own dick and fisting it slowly. Andrea arched her back a little more, just enough to make her cheeks bounce.

“You are a nasty, bitch, you know that? Playing with your pussy so early in the morning. Making all that cake bounce. You must want me to cum in your face. Huh? You want me to paint your face?”

Andrea squeezed her eyes shut as a long groan of “Ohhhhh!!” escaped from her mouth. Her fingers were working faster.

“N’Jobu, you got my pussy dripping!!”

She was panting now, rather loud.

“Shh, keep it down,” he said.

“I can’t!” she whined, her eyes now open and focused on his hand beating his thick meat in front of her face.

The tightening in his balls let him know he couldn’t hold out much longer. He really wanted to slide a condom on and beat her cheeks up hard and fast from behind, break her fucking back if he could…but the sweet sounds of her fingers plunging in and out of her swollen pussy lips just pushed him too far.

“Take this, cum! Take it…Fuck!!” he hollered at her, yanking her hair to pull her face back as thick spurts of creamy white splashed across her face. Andrea opened her mouth to catch a lot of it. He groaned louder than he wanted to, still squeezing out the last drops of his seed on her face. His impressive cumload made Andrea smile, her quick tongue licking up the salty-sweet semen from her lips.

“Come sit on my face,” he said, and Andrea scrambled up his body like she was climbing a tree in a park and ground her sopping clit and juicy vulva onto N’Jobu’s full lips and long tongue. His hands held her ass cheeks as he drove his tongue deep inside of her for a few deep probes, and then he was sucking on her swollen clit with his entire mouth.

It didn’t take long for Andrea to cum, drowning his mouth and face with her juices. N’Jobu knew he would have to apologize to Bakari again. No matter how quiet he tried to have sex in his bedroom, it never worked out. It was what it was.

Chapter 3 HERE

#blackpanther #blackpantherfanfic #BlackBoysBloomThornsFirst #Wakanda #wakandaforever #njobu #killmonger #erikkillmonger #uzumakirebellion #n'jobu #n'jobu fanfic

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Ursula Ruckers’s Brown Boy

Still working away on my “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” Fanfic. I tend to write by hand and then type later, so I’ve written a lot more stuff....just need to transcribe it.

I’ve been getting some hits on the story over on A03 and FanFic.Net which is awesome. I know people are into the stories of T’Challa and Erik, but there seems to be a few out there who are interested in stories about N’Jobu. There’s so much to write about him, but I’m trying to keep the focus tight.

My goal I would say is to give my take on a complete picture of how Erik came to be the person we saw in the Black Panther movie. And the world prior to his birth is key. I am having fun writing about N’Jobu and Califia (even though we all know from the movie that the Stevens family as a whole ends tragically). 

I won’t be writing any fanfic about Erik during his foster care years. I’m not equipped to handle that weight, especially since I grew up with relatives who took in foster kids and witnessed that life firsthand. I believe there are some other fanfics on here that explore that time, but for me, I’m going to focus on Erik when he finds his father, and then pick up when he goes to MIT pre-Navy/Black Ops, and then go into the aftermath of his Wakanda takeover.

I wanted to share the poem/song that inspired the title of my series. Ursula Rucker’s “Brown Boy”. The lyrics are spot on Erik Stevens. It is the haunting refrain in the back of my mind as I write this series trilogy. Each chapter will more than likely have a quote from a song that gives a feel for what the chapter is about, but “Brown Boy” is the overall big picture mood.

Even in darkness, I always believe there is light and hope around the corner, and despite the fact that “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” covers some heavy things that the Black Panther movie touched upon, I hope to bring some Black joy with my handling of this particular story.

Anyways, here’s Ursula Rucker, the inspiration for “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”:

#black panther #killmonger #njobu #blackpanther #wakanda #wakandaforever #tchalla #tchaka #califia #ursularucker #brownboy #blackboysbloomthornsfirst #uzumakirebellion #black panther fanfiction #n'jobu #n'jobu fanfic