Instructions: Read the short story and once you’re done (scroll to the end of the story) VOTE on whether this story should be turned into a novel or novella. And if you don’t think the author should keep going, we have a choice for that too.

“Friends to Lovers”

The band comes back on the stage after their intermission, and I watch Brissa step in front of the microphone. I get lost in the light bouncing off her huge wild afro, her brown skin, I can’t see her eyes, but her full lips are glossy.

They move as she warms her voice back up for her next set. She adjusts the microphone and turns to Cashton and speaks inaudibly. Then the microphone is live.

She starts to vocalize and scat as her silky-smooth alto glides over the notes of Earth, Wind and Fire’s, Love’s Holiday. The band accompanies her voice so well as she captures the audience with her presence and melodic voice.

After an hour or so they announce another intermission and I leave my seat to go backstage to find her. I walk impatiently to find superstar Brissa Rhodes.

In real life she’s no superstar but in my eyes she is. I think I’ve always been in love with Brissa. She is intelligent, beautiful, caring, compassionate, loyal, and sexy. She is the epitome of black bohemian.

Unconventional, alternative, unusual free thinking, who refuses to conform to society’s standards! She’s a lover of beautiful places and things. This queen is voluptuous with curves in all the right places, thick thighs, and an ass that can make men and women cry.

I get backstage to the dressing room and knock gently. “Come in,” Brissa says. I enter to see her sitting on the window ledge blowing the smoke from a J out of the window. I close the door and lock it and walk over to her. She holds the joint out to me and I take it and I hit it and pass it back.

I walk up behind her and push her hair to the side and inhale her sweet smell. I place my lips against her neck and murmur, “You were amazing tonight. Your voice was magnificent.”

“Thanks. I had a good warm-up.” “Well, now it’s time to heat you up again. So why don’t you walk over there and turn that light off and by the time you get back over here to me, be naked.”

I watch as her ass sways as she sashays across the room and flips the switch. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust but as they do I watch her strip out of all her clothing as she sidles back my way.

Once she is back in front of me, I take the joint from her and take another pull as I toe off my shoes. She unbuttons my slacks and slides them and my boxer briefs down my legs.

She remains in a squat, and I watch her admire my dick. She licks her thick lips and just as she goes in to take me into her mouth, I swivel my hips away from her and place my hand under her chin and lift her head, so she looks into my eyes.

I release the smoke and crook my finger, “Come here.” She stands and I lean in to kiss her. I use my tongue to part her lips and deepen the kiss. She moans into my mouth, and I press closer to her causing my dick to poke her belly and then shift upwards as I press her to me with one hand and hold the J away from us with the other.

I greedily kiss her until we can’t breathe and must pull back to maintain life. “Sit in the chair,” I order her. She saunters over to the salon chair in front of the vanity and sits back. I give the J back to her and she puts it out in an ashtray. I remove my shirt and drop it to the floor.

I grab her legs behind her knees and slide her down slightly. I spread her them and gaze at her pretty pussy. She watches me watching her and then slowly brings her fingers to her lips and sucks three of them into her mouth.

She bobs her head as she slides them in and out of her mouth and then removes them placing her pointer and ring finger on her outer labia to spread her open and uses her middle finger to tease her clit. My dick jumps visibly as I watch her circle her clit and her head drops back causing her heavy breasts to raise towards me, nipples seemingly begging for my mouth.

I walk around the side of the chair so as not to disturb her pleasure and take a nipple into my mouth. It becomes harder and I open my mouth to take her entire areola in and she moans harmoniously. “You know what I want,” I whisper.

“Not yet,” she moans. I can feel the chair rocking and I know that she must be getting close to the pinnacle of her orgasm because her hips are gyrating, and her breaths are harder.

I walk back around to the front of her and widen my stance as I grab her legs and push them close to her chest and enter her smoothly and swiftly.

I rotate my hips and push deep inside Brissa, and she moans, “Legacy.” “Do it Brissa! Now!” I demand trying to control my moves.

But her pussy is so good, and I want to break this chair as I pound into her, but I can tell she needs me to go slow. “Do it,” I say through gritted teeth.

She inhales and then her smooth alto voice begins to chant, Yours, mine, ours I could do this for hours Sit and talk to you for hours.

Hearing her voice makes my stomach tighten and the blood rushes to my dick and I slow my breathing and my strokes to keep from coming. She stops singing the song and moans my name making it sound like music. I keep stroking but lean over and kiss her mouth and then pull back and say, “Rissa, don’t stop keep going.”

She sings, Ooh, when you do what you do, I’m empowered You give me a superpower Together, the world could be ours You sit me up on the counter Instantly, it’s thundershowers Stormin’ for a couple hours

“Legacy, baby,” she sings. “Please don’t stop,” she pleads. “I’ll keep going as long as you do,” I say not slowing my strokes but changing the angle to let her know I mean what I say.

She starts to moan and sing the song again.

I could do this for hours And hours and hours I could do this for hours And hours and hours I could do this for hours And hours and hours I could do this for hours And hours, hours.

Her sweat-slickened body slides down in the chair and I widen my stance and go deeper with a steady rhythm making her moan my name.

“Don’t stop singing I say through the pumping of my hips with ragged breaths.” She ignores me and continues to call my name. I lean over and steal a kiss. “Brissa, sing for me baby.”

Then I met you When I met you, I knew this was it I’ve never been in love like this A love like ours I pray for it on my knees Every night for some hours And hours and hours And hours and hours and hours.

“Legacy,” she damn near yells! “Legacy!” “Sing got damnit Rissa,” I yell at her but then change my tone. “Brissa please sing to me baby.

I could sit and talk to you for hours Sit and look at you for hours Makin’ love to you for hours Layin’ on your chest for hours.

“Legacy,” she mutters. Her voice is raspy, and her afro is in her face. Her body is glistening with our sweat as I feel her tighten around me.

I could do this for hours Legacy! And hours and hours Brisssssaaaa! And hours and hours.

She reaches between us and strokes her clit and just as her pussy starts to vise grip around me and she begins to tremble, I pull out of Brissa and come into a towel on her vanity. My legs go weak, and I fall into the chair against the wall. We are quiet for several moments.

“Are you good baby?”

“Yes, Legacy. More than good.”

“Let’s get back out there before everyone leaves.”

Should "Friends to Lovers" be turned into a novel?

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