Divorce

The divorce happened quickly. I got nothing, as I predicted. I only had my savings and things I owned. But I was comforted by words from my sister. Even if I got caught I could still have black men. I was made for it after all.

I stayed with a few model friends, we had sex with blacks and sometimes even with each for the fun of it. I still worked and traveled, still slept with black men in various cities. This time it wasn’t cheating.

I recently moved in with my family here on the east coast now. Sandra is here. We’re all here and happy.

I still model occasionally, but not as often. I haven’t spoken to Preston since the night I apologized a few years ago. I’m guessing he’s still in LA, maybe even found himself a new trophy wife.

I’m on the bed now, TJ still sliding his cock in and out of my ass. I love the sound of him moaning deeply, grunting as he works.

Sandra just got here. TJ pulls out of me and sits on the bed. I greet her at the door, with a hug and a kiss. I help her strip naked.

I slap her butt a few times and position it in front of TJ. Using both hands, I pry her cheeks apart, and guide it down to his waiting cock. It enters her ass, sliding past her rectal walls. I love that feeling. I can see by the expression on Sandra’s face, she does too.

I take a break, sitting in the corner, sipping wine, watching my sister squat up and down on TJ’s cock.

If I ever marry again, I’ll be older, over 30, maybe close to 40. I smile, watching them go at it. Maybe I’ll find a nice black man to marry.