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Shorter Wong x Reader: Whatcha Reading? Part II (Explicit!)

[Part One here.]

You pick up the phone. 

“Yeah?”

“Listen.” It’s Cain, your brother. “Some Asian dude came waltzing up to the crib askin’ for you.” 

You’re confused. What?

“Turns out,” your brother continues, “He’s the motherfucking boss of Chinatown.” 

Shorter Wong. 

“What’d you do to him?” You ask quickly, panicked on Shorter’s behalf. You can’t believe that idiot that hit on you in a bookstore –what, three weeks ago?-- actually showed up to the gang’s main hideout. How fucking stupid can you–

“He was alone and unarmed, so we just got him tied up here at the moment. But, you know this clown? He talking ‘bout some book date with you or something. I know you be reading, and that’s the only reason why I didn’t smash his fucking mouth in. So what’s up?”

You sigh: long, exasperated, tired. “Yeah, yeah, we… we got a book date.” 

There’s silence on the other end of the line. You know your brother is thinking. 

“I’m aiight,” you reassure him. “Shorter’s alright too. Have one of ya boys bring ‘em over.” 

The silence lasts a little longer. Then, “Okay. But you got your gun on you?” 

“Yeah.”

“Your knife?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your other knife?”

“Yeah.” 

“Them brass knuckles with the–”

“YES! JUST SEND HIM OVER!”

—

When Shorter appears in your doorway later, hands tied in front of him so he’s unable to fix his twisted up tank top and pull up his pants, you feel as if you’ve entered a dream. That first encounter with this man shouldn’t have happened, and yet fatefully here is another. 

Your brother’s friends toss him into your apartment, then leave without a word. They know you can fuck him up if you want to. 

Blindfold over his eyes, he clutches Song of Solomon in his restrained fingers. 

Shorter calls your name, smile wide and dopey. 

“You look mighty cheerful for a hostage,” you drawl, though your eyes are looking him up and down. He’s wearing red boxers with a white waistband, and the roughhousing of whoever brought him here has stretched out the neckline of his tank top. Thick breast muscle is on display. Sinful.

“Baby, I’m happy I get to see you again. If I can see you again.” He wiggles his brows pointedly, and you approach him to take off the blindfold. The short hair of his buzzed sides are soft against your wrist. 

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” you admonish. 

Shorter shrugs a massive shoulder. Without sunglasses, you can see his eyes are a deep brown alight with mischief. 

“I wanted to know what you thought of Beloved,” he says, and you know that it’s true and only half of it. 

You pull him by his tied wrists and lead him to the couch. It’s leather, and it annoys you that Shorter’s big frame fills it like it was meant for him. Taking his wrists in one hand, you drag it over his head, his elbows bent and framing his mohawk, until you hook a metal groove into the rope. 

“Kinky,” Shorter laughs, testing the restraints. You expect another joke, but then Shorter surprises you by asking about the book. 

And you, well. 

You talk about the book. 

For someone who is lying along the length of a couch and unable to move their arms, Shorter looks completely at ease. Head against the headrest, mohawk moving animatedly whenever he nods in agreement or contemplation, Shorter crosses his long legs and listens. 

An hour passes. 

“When I first learned about slavery,” Shorter’s saying emphatically, “I thought that shit was the most evil thing I ever heard. And the way Morrison plays with trauma, death, and birth, and the afterlife of slavery is one of the reasons I keep coming back to that book.” 

You hum, nodding. 

“Like,” Shorter continues, “I get it. Killing something you love, your beloved, just to prevent them from being taken by the fucked up evil ass people in the world.”

You join in. “And I like that Morrison doesn’t judge the mother for her decision, but she shows us that trauma like that,” you whistle, a long heavy pause. “Breeds ghosts, man. Ghosts that can’t be put to rest.” 

“Exactly,” Shorter says. Then you’re both quiet. You’re looking at Shorter, really looking at him. He catches you.

“Yeah?” he asks, head tilting, and it’s the little innocent movement that makes the decision for you. 

You had been sitting at a coffee table the entire conversation, but you get up now. Intensity fills Shorter’s expression. 

“I want to fuck this big boy body of yours,” you say, and Shorter sucks in a harsh breath, legs tightening. 

“Yeah?” he asks, and though it’s the same thing he said a second ago, the whole tone is different. “Yeah? Yeah you can baby. You can do whatever you want.” 

What a relief. If Shorter had rejected you, you don’t know what you would have done. All that intelligent book talk coming out of that sexy mouth made you wet twenty minutes ago.

You leave the room to get supplies, and by the time you come back there’s a prominent tent in Shorter’s jeans. When you notice it, it jumps, twitches, and Shorter has the audacity to look shy about it. 

“Just, uh, just excited,” he explains. 

You take off your shirt, letting it hit the floor. “Me too,” you admit. “You’re, you’re so fucking handsome. I bet you get a lot of people to spread their legs for you.”

Shorter’s eyes zero in on the prominent swell of your breasts, held up by the valorous effort of your bra. 

“A lot of people don’t got the ass you have,” Shorter answers. “I ain’t so interested if that’s the case.” 

You laugh, throwing your head back. “Well, I get a lot of dick,” you say, trying to gauge his reaction. Would he get jealous? Possessive? Angry? 

“Shit,” Shorter whines, bucking his hips desperately. “Yeah? I bet you get all the dick you want, with your fine ass. You gonna add me to your list, baby? Let me get a chance to satisfy you too?” 

Oh. You. You weren’t expecting that. 

“You want to be one of my boys, Shorter?” You say in a voice of sin as you slide your pants off. Your panties are soaked through, and Shorter opens his mouth like he wants a taste. 

“Please, please, fuck, please, let me taste that pussy. Make me one of your boys.” 

Your cunt throbs, and you do just that. You don’t even have the patience to take your underwear off, you just throw your juicy thighs on each side of Shorter’s head and pull them to the side. You can tell the second Shorter smells you, cause he groans like he was punched. 

“Shit, mmmh, yeah,” he mumbles nonsensically, breathing deeply before sticking his tongue out for a sloppy taste. It’s not long before you’re dripping on his chest; Shorter’s tongue parts your hair down there like it’s the fucking red sea, and he’ s Moses and the promised land is your clit. 

You grab his head, messing up his mohawk, moaning along with him. You’re riding his face, looking down at him as he colors slightly, brows pinched in concentration like you’re the single most important thing he’s ever done. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you say, breathlessly, and then you do, right on his mouth, his chin, a thick glob of slick sliding out of you and onto his neck. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shorter whines, again, like he’s hurt. Like it’s too much. “You taste so fucking good.” He turns his head to the side to kiss your thighs, and you shiver at the touch. “I’m addicted, I’m already addicted,” he murmurs, and you are overwhelmed with the need to fuck him. 

You take off the rest of your clothes and stand next to him. “You wouldn’t be the first,” you tease again, turning to give Shorter a front row seat to your bubble butt. He whines like a wounded animal, and it’s affecting you, making it difficult for you to keep up your cool demeanor. 

“I know,” Shorter agrees, eyes flicking back and forth between the way your ass jiggles when you shake it, and the bit of side-tit he can get from this angle. “Ride me please, sweetheart. My dick’s gonna burst.” 

You spread your legs over Shorter again, but this time facing his feet. Your ass is inches from his face, and you hear him struggling against the restraints for the first time.

“Fuck, if I could only slap that delicious ass of yours,” he growls, and you can imagine his face. He’s so open with his emotions, and it makes you feel like you’re as coveted a prize as he makes you to be. 

You pull his pants and underwear down in one go, and his dick slaps back heavy against his stomach. 

“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “You’re…. You’re bigger than I thought.” 

That cock-sure confidence fills Shorter’s voice. “They don’t call me Wong with the Long Schlong for nothing.” 

“No one calls you that,” you laugh, before licking up his dick. It has this fantastic curve to it that you can’t wait to feel for yourself. 

Shorter doesn’t talk for a while after that. He’s too mesmerized by your ass, and how you keep twerking it to tease him. A few times, your dick-sucking and hip-shaking aligns and you get your cheeks to clap. Shorter groans loudly then, and the velvety tip of his cock spurts precum on your tongue. 

“You’re gonna have to jump on me soon,” Shorter says, finally, voice strained. You look back at him. His forehead is beaded with sweat, mohawk down for the count. He looks so, so disappointed in himself when he says, “I might come soon if you don’t.” 

You decide not to tease him, because your cunt has been aching for it too. 

“Alright Shorter,” you appease, and turn around on him so you’re facing him now. His eyes rake all over you: the thick thighs and the outer curve of your ass dwarfing his body, the tiny waist he wishes he could grab, the full heavy breasts that dangle in front of him, with nipples he wants so badly to taste. And then there’s your face. 

“Kiss me,” he begs, and you lean down just as you’ve rolled down the condom and lined the head of his cock up. Slapping your hips down then grinding, you ride his dick as you two share your first kiss. He’s eating your mouth like he ate your pussy — hungry, desperately. 

You let him, let him because his cock is pushing right against your G-spot and you’re an animal seeking that release. Your pussy is making such filthy noises around his dick, and Shorter’s wanton moans are only adding to the hysteria of the moment. 

“Your dick Shorter,” you moan, tits slapping against his neck as you kiss. “Fuck, you got such a fat cock.” 

“Yeah? All for you baby,” Shorter groans, separating from your mouth just to try to reach his tongue to the top of your breasts. You oblige, lifting up a tit to feed him. He looks like he’s in pain again, the pleasure overwhelming. His hips are pistoning up and you know he’s got a nice ass too to have the muscle to pound you like this from below. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you say again. 

Shorter lets your tit drop from his mouth. “Yeah, fucking cum baby. Fucking cum on my cock. Wanna know I did that for you, wanna know I’m good for this pussy.” 

You’re nodding, tears forming, and your cunt is so tight you don’t even realize when you’ve slipped into your climax until it fully has you. You’re moaning whorishly, and Shorter’s coaxing you through it all.

“That’s right baby. Holy shit, damn, goddamn, I’m gonna–” 

And then Shorter makes you bounce on his lap his body convulses so fiercely. You’re still too sensitive but you can’t do anything but sit on his fat dick as he spills into the condom. Heat blooms in your loins. 

You’re both trying to catch your breath. You’re both realizing that was some of the best sex you’ve ever had. 

Shorter breaks the silence first. 

“You free this weekend?” 

You cock your head. “Why? Already thinking about next time?”

Shorter laughs, and it’s so stupidly endearing how much of a teddy bear he appears now. 

“We never talked about Song of Solomon. Was thinking we could do that, and I could cook for you. You could meet my sister, my family.” 

You can’t hide your shock. “Wha– But– Shorter, we’re not, we’re not even dating!” Despite the fact that you had the dirtiest sex of your life and still currently have his dick inside you, it is his words that are coloring your cheeks red. 

“Yeah I know, but after that,” he looks your body up and down as a smile splits his goofy face, “I got a mind to give you Chinatown right now.” 

When he leaves another hour later, gentle with the way he holds you and touches you, you think to yourself that your list of partners might just end up being Shorter.