Timmy, Bree and Jamal: Chapter 7
by passion_pilot_2026Abstract: The 7th of 12 chapters. Jamal tells Bree he's moving in, Timmy is now his servant, staying in the guest room, Bree to stop birth control. \\\ Bree lingered in the guest room long after Tim
about 2 months ago
•long read•hot intensityAbstract:
The 7th of 12 chapters. Jamal tells Bree he's moving in, Timmy is now his servant, staying in the guest room, Bree to stop birth control.
\\\
Bree lingered in the guest room long after Timmy's breathing evened out into the shallow rhythm of exhausted sleep. His face, still flushed from the ordeal, pressed into the pillow. She brushed a lock of his sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, her taller frame folding over him protectively, the nine-inch height difference making her feel like a shield that had failed. How could she leave him like this? But the weight of Jamal's commands hung in the air. With a final, trembling kiss to Timmy's temple, she slipped from the bed.
She padded down the hall, the hardwood cool under her bare feet, toward the master bedroom where Jamal waited. The door creaked open, and there he was, sprawled across the Alaskan King bed like he owned it—which, in that moment, he did. The silk sheets, still rumpled from her and Timmy's tender nights, now cradled Jamal's massive form, his dark skin gleaming under the bedside lamp. He was naked, unashamed, his thick cock resting heavy against his thigh, softened but still imposing. Bree's stomach twisted as she approached, the robe slipping open to reveal the athletic lines of her body. She crawled onto the bed beside him, the mattress dipping under her weight, and immediately the tears came—hot, uncontrollable, spilling down her cheeks as she curled against his chest.
"Why?" she choked out, her voice breaking like glass underfoot. "Why were you so cruel to him? The slap across the face, the painful penetration, the... the way you just took him. Timmy's never hurt anyone. He's kind to you Jamal. I love you, but I love him too. He’s my husband, and you broke him." Her sobs wracked her body, fists pounding lightly against Jamal's broad chest, the one that had ignited wildfires in her since their first stolen glance. She loved Timmy's quiet charm, his wealth that let them live without worry, but Jamal's raw pull had always been a secret thrill, a contrast to Timmy's gentle world. Tonight, though, it had crossed into something vicious and violent, leaving Timmy shattered in the next room.
Jamal's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer with effortless strength, his hand splaying possessively over the curve of her hip. He didn't flinch at her tears; instead, he tilted her chin up, his dark eyes locking onto hers with that stormy intensity that made her pussy clench even now. "It was needed, Bree," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "To move us to the next level. You, me, this life we've been circling. Timmy's sweet, yeah, but he's gotta know his place. Tonight? That was the line in the sand."
Confused, her brow furrowed, tears still streaking her face as she searched his gaze. The room felt smaller, the air charged with the remnants of violence and the promise of more. "Next level? What does that even mean, Jamal? You can't just... you can't do that to him and call it a step forward." Her voice wavered, but there was a spark of defiance, the same fire where she'd first met Timmy's adoring eyes. Jamal's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile, his free hand tracing lazy circles on her thigh, pushing the robe aside to expose the soft skin there.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, the scent of him—flooding her senses. "It means I'm moving in. Right here-with you. We'll take this master bedroom and make it ours. Timmy? He'll pack his belongings in here and move to the guest room down the hall. He’s now my personal servant. And you...” His fingers dipped lower, brushing the edge of her panties, feeling the damp heat building despite her turmoil. "You'll stop taking birth control. We're starting a family, Bree. You and me. Real kids, strong ones."
The words hit her like a rogue wave, crashing over the remnants of her resolve. Bree's breath hitched, her body going still in his arms. Move in? Timmy as a servant? No more pills, no more barriers between her and Jamal's potent seed? It was too much, a whirlwind that spun her world off its axis. She buried her face in his neck, fresh tears soaking his skin, but beneath the shock, a traitorous warmth bloomed in her core. She'd always wanted children—dreamed of them during lazy afternoons with Timmy. But Timmy...he never wanted intercourse, preferring his Tinnie Wennie to be stroked. Bree wasn’t even sure if Timmy’s penis was long and potent enough to breed children." Jamal, though? The thought of his thick cock pulsing inside her, flooding her womb, made her thighs squeeze together involuntarily.
Happiness flickered amid the chaos, a secret spark she couldn't deny. Jamal sensed the shift, his hand sliding fully under her panties now, fingers parting her slick folds with practiced ease. "That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice husky as he circled her clit, slow and teasing. "You feel that? That's us. Real. No more hiding behind texts or quick fucks. Timmy's part of it now, but on his knees where he belongs." Bree gasped, her hips bucking despite herself, the robe falling open completely to bare her full breasts, nipples hardening in the cool air. She was taller than Timmy, yeah, but Jamal dwarfed them both, his muscular frame enveloping her as he rolled her onto her back, pinning her gently but firmly.
The bed that had been hers and Timmy's sanctuary now cradled this new reality. Bree's mind reeled—how had it come to this? One minute, she was scrolling messages, debating a reply to Jamal. The next, their lives collided like tectonic plates: Jamal's wildfire passion crashing into Timmy's kind, wealthy stability, leaving Jamal the victor, Timmy, the vanquished servant in the guest room shadows. She loved them both—Timmy's charming care, the way he'd revealed his fantasy of her with other men after one of their intimate nights, his mouth bringing her to ecstasy; Jamal's commanding presence, the raw dick that stretched her like nothing else.
But now, entwined in Jamal's arms, the master bed now Jamal’s domain, the future loomed fertile and fraught. Jamal's mouth claimed hers then, a deep kiss that silenced her swirling thoughts, his tongue invading with the same dominance he'd shown Timmy. Bree moaned into it, her hands roaming his broad back, nails digging in as arousal overtook confusion. "Oh Jamal, that feels so good," she breathed when he pulled back, his fingers plunging deeper into her pussy, two thick digits curling against her G-spot. She was soaked, the slick sounds obscene in the quiet room, her body betraying any lingering protest. He chuckled, low and dark, shedding the robe entirely to leave her naked beneath him, her athletic legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.
"You're mine now, we’re going to start a family together," he growled, shifting to kneel between her thighs, his cock hardening against her inner leg— that ten-inch beast, veiny and insistent, already leaking pre-cum. Bree's eyes widened, a mix of fear and want flashing through her. No condom, no pills soon—this was bare, primal. He rubbed the head along her slit, coating himself in her juices, teasing her entrance until she whimpered, hips lifting to meet him. "I’m gonna fill this pussy up, Bree. I’m going to get you pregnant." The words sent a jolt through her, her clit throbbing under his thumb as he pressed in, slow at first, stretching her walls with delicious burn.
She cried out, arching off the bed, her full breasts bouncing with the motion. Jamal groaned, sinking deeper, inch by inch, until he bottomed out, his balls nestled against her ass. "So fucking tight," he muttered, holding still to let her adjust, his hands pinning her wrists above her head. Bree's mind fractured—images of Timmy asleep down the hall, broken but obedient, mingling with the ecstasy of Jamal's girth splitting her open.
She rocked against him, urging him on, her pussy clenching around his dick like a vice. He started thrusting then, measured at first, each slide pulling whimpers from her throat, building to a rhythm that had the headboard thumping softly against the wall. The romance of it twisted with the erotic—Jamal's eyes never leaving hers, his free hand kneading her breast, pinching the nipple until she gasped. "You want this don’t you? You want me to get you pregnant don’t you? Start a family together?"
Bree's legs tightened around him, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper. She started weeping again "Yes Jamal, I….I do. I want to have a baby with you." Jamal obliged, pounding into her now, the wet slap of their bodies echoing like a heartbeat. He released her wrists to hike her legs over his shoulders, folding her in half. Bree's hands flew to her clit, rubbing frantically as the pressure built, her pussy fluttering around him. "I’m cumming," she panted, vision blurring. "Fill me, Jamal—please." He roared, thrusts erratic, and then he was erupting, hot jets of cum painting her insides, the cream-pie sensation pushing her over.
She shattered, squirting around his dick in messy spurts that soaked the sheets, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm, body convulsing in his grip. They collapsed together, Jamal still buried deep, his weight a comforting cage as aftershocks rippled through her. Bree lay there, panting, his seed warm inside her, the prospect of life blooming from it a quiet joy amid the wreckage.
Timmy's world, once so safe with his wealth and kindness, now orbited Jamal's dominance—the guest room his exile, servitude his role. She traced patterns on Jamal's back, wondering at the crash of loves, the vanquished and victor tangled in her heart.
The 7th of 12 chapters. Jamal tells Bree he's moving in, Timmy is now his servant, staying in the guest room, Bree to stop birth control.
\\\
Bree lingered in the guest room long after Timmy's breathing evened out into the shallow rhythm of exhausted sleep. His face, still flushed from the ordeal, pressed into the pillow. She brushed a lock of his sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, her taller frame folding over him protectively, the nine-inch height difference making her feel like a shield that had failed. How could she leave him like this? But the weight of Jamal's commands hung in the air. With a final, trembling kiss to Timmy's temple, she slipped from the bed.
She padded down the hall, the hardwood cool under her bare feet, toward the master bedroom where Jamal waited. The door creaked open, and there he was, sprawled across the Alaskan King bed like he owned it—which, in that moment, he did. The silk sheets, still rumpled from her and Timmy's tender nights, now cradled Jamal's massive form, his dark skin gleaming under the bedside lamp. He was naked, unashamed, his thick cock resting heavy against his thigh, softened but still imposing. Bree's stomach twisted as she approached, the robe slipping open to reveal the athletic lines of her body. She crawled onto the bed beside him, the mattress dipping under her weight, and immediately the tears came—hot, uncontrollable, spilling down her cheeks as she curled against his chest.
"Why?" she choked out, her voice breaking like glass underfoot. "Why were you so cruel to him? The slap across the face, the painful penetration, the... the way you just took him. Timmy's never hurt anyone. He's kind to you Jamal. I love you, but I love him too. He’s my husband, and you broke him." Her sobs wracked her body, fists pounding lightly against Jamal's broad chest, the one that had ignited wildfires in her since their first stolen glance. She loved Timmy's quiet charm, his wealth that let them live without worry, but Jamal's raw pull had always been a secret thrill, a contrast to Timmy's gentle world. Tonight, though, it had crossed into something vicious and violent, leaving Timmy shattered in the next room.
Jamal's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer with effortless strength, his hand splaying possessively over the curve of her hip. He didn't flinch at her tears; instead, he tilted her chin up, his dark eyes locking onto hers with that stormy intensity that made her pussy clench even now. "It was needed, Bree," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "To move us to the next level. You, me, this life we've been circling. Timmy's sweet, yeah, but he's gotta know his place. Tonight? That was the line in the sand."
Confused, her brow furrowed, tears still streaking her face as she searched his gaze. The room felt smaller, the air charged with the remnants of violence and the promise of more. "Next level? What does that even mean, Jamal? You can't just... you can't do that to him and call it a step forward." Her voice wavered, but there was a spark of defiance, the same fire where she'd first met Timmy's adoring eyes. Jamal's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile, his free hand tracing lazy circles on her thigh, pushing the robe aside to expose the soft skin there.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, the scent of him—flooding her senses. "It means I'm moving in. Right here-with you. We'll take this master bedroom and make it ours. Timmy? He'll pack his belongings in here and move to the guest room down the hall. He’s now my personal servant. And you...” His fingers dipped lower, brushing the edge of her panties, feeling the damp heat building despite her turmoil. "You'll stop taking birth control. We're starting a family, Bree. You and me. Real kids, strong ones."
The words hit her like a rogue wave, crashing over the remnants of her resolve. Bree's breath hitched, her body going still in his arms. Move in? Timmy as a servant? No more pills, no more barriers between her and Jamal's potent seed? It was too much, a whirlwind that spun her world off its axis. She buried her face in his neck, fresh tears soaking his skin, but beneath the shock, a traitorous warmth bloomed in her core. She'd always wanted children—dreamed of them during lazy afternoons with Timmy. But Timmy...he never wanted intercourse, preferring his Tinnie Wennie to be stroked. Bree wasn’t even sure if Timmy’s penis was long and potent enough to breed children." Jamal, though? The thought of his thick cock pulsing inside her, flooding her womb, made her thighs squeeze together involuntarily.
Happiness flickered amid the chaos, a secret spark she couldn't deny. Jamal sensed the shift, his hand sliding fully under her panties now, fingers parting her slick folds with practiced ease. "That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice husky as he circled her clit, slow and teasing. "You feel that? That's us. Real. No more hiding behind texts or quick fucks. Timmy's part of it now, but on his knees where he belongs." Bree gasped, her hips bucking despite herself, the robe falling open completely to bare her full breasts, nipples hardening in the cool air. She was taller than Timmy, yeah, but Jamal dwarfed them both, his muscular frame enveloping her as he rolled her onto her back, pinning her gently but firmly.
The bed that had been hers and Timmy's sanctuary now cradled this new reality. Bree's mind reeled—how had it come to this? One minute, she was scrolling messages, debating a reply to Jamal. The next, their lives collided like tectonic plates: Jamal's wildfire passion crashing into Timmy's kind, wealthy stability, leaving Jamal the victor, Timmy, the vanquished servant in the guest room shadows. She loved them both—Timmy's charming care, the way he'd revealed his fantasy of her with other men after one of their intimate nights, his mouth bringing her to ecstasy; Jamal's commanding presence, the raw dick that stretched her like nothing else.
But now, entwined in Jamal's arms, the master bed now Jamal’s domain, the future loomed fertile and fraught. Jamal's mouth claimed hers then, a deep kiss that silenced her swirling thoughts, his tongue invading with the same dominance he'd shown Timmy. Bree moaned into it, her hands roaming his broad back, nails digging in as arousal overtook confusion. "Oh Jamal, that feels so good," she breathed when he pulled back, his fingers plunging deeper into her pussy, two thick digits curling against her G-spot. She was soaked, the slick sounds obscene in the quiet room, her body betraying any lingering protest. He chuckled, low and dark, shedding the robe entirely to leave her naked beneath him, her athletic legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.
"You're mine now, we’re going to start a family together," he growled, shifting to kneel between her thighs, his cock hardening against her inner leg— that ten-inch beast, veiny and insistent, already leaking pre-cum. Bree's eyes widened, a mix of fear and want flashing through her. No condom, no pills soon—this was bare, primal. He rubbed the head along her slit, coating himself in her juices, teasing her entrance until she whimpered, hips lifting to meet him. "I’m gonna fill this pussy up, Bree. I’m going to get you pregnant." The words sent a jolt through her, her clit throbbing under his thumb as he pressed in, slow at first, stretching her walls with delicious burn.
She cried out, arching off the bed, her full breasts bouncing with the motion. Jamal groaned, sinking deeper, inch by inch, until he bottomed out, his balls nestled against her ass. "So fucking tight," he muttered, holding still to let her adjust, his hands pinning her wrists above her head. Bree's mind fractured—images of Timmy asleep down the hall, broken but obedient, mingling with the ecstasy of Jamal's girth splitting her open.
She rocked against him, urging him on, her pussy clenching around his dick like a vice. He started thrusting then, measured at first, each slide pulling whimpers from her throat, building to a rhythm that had the headboard thumping softly against the wall. The romance of it twisted with the erotic—Jamal's eyes never leaving hers, his free hand kneading her breast, pinching the nipple until she gasped. "You want this don’t you? You want me to get you pregnant don’t you? Start a family together?"
Bree's legs tightened around him, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper. She started weeping again "Yes Jamal, I….I do. I want to have a baby with you." Jamal obliged, pounding into her now, the wet slap of their bodies echoing like a heartbeat. He released her wrists to hike her legs over his shoulders, folding her in half. Bree's hands flew to her clit, rubbing frantically as the pressure built, her pussy fluttering around him. "I’m cumming," she panted, vision blurring. "Fill me, Jamal—please." He roared, thrusts erratic, and then he was erupting, hot jets of cum painting her insides, the cream-pie sensation pushing her over.
She shattered, squirting around his dick in messy spurts that soaked the sheets, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm, body convulsing in his grip. They collapsed together, Jamal still buried deep, his weight a comforting cage as aftershocks rippled through her. Bree lay there, panting, his seed warm inside her, the prospect of life blooming from it a quiet joy amid the wreckage.
Timmy's world, once so safe with his wealth and kindness, now orbited Jamal's dominance—the guest room his exile, servitude his role. She traced patterns on Jamal's back, wondering at the crash of loves, the vanquished and victor tangled in her heart.