Doesn't cum as he take Alex upstairs like a groom to his bride

You watch the black man scoop Alex up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She looked small, fragile against his dark, muscular frame. Her head lolled against his chest, her body limp with a satiation that had nothing to do with her own release. He'd denied her that, and you, by extension. This was all about him, about his power, and about the casual, breathtaking ease with which he had dismantled your relationship.

He started toward the stairs, each footfall a heavy, definitive beat marking the end of your life as you knew it. You were left behind on the couch, your jeans still around your ankles, your cock shriveled and pathetic in your hand. The wet spot on the cushion where Alex had been was already growing cold.

"Where... where are you going?" you managed to croak, the words tearing at your throat.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, not turning around. Alex, however, did. She looked over his shoulder, her face a mess of tears and saliva and raw, animal lust. There was no apology in her eyes, no hint of the woman you loved. There was only a kind of pitying dismissal, as if she were looking at a childhood toy she had finally outgrown. She had new massive black you can use now.

"To our bedroom," he said, the words simple and absolute.

You follow quickly behind him. You're compelled to. You had to see. You had to see the final nail being hammered into the coffin of your relationship.

The bedroom was dark, save for the moonlight streaming through the window. He laid Alex down on your bed, the bed you shared, on the sheets you'd picked out together. She looked up at him, her legs spreading in a silent, undeniable invitation.

He just shucked his jeans and boxers, his massive cock springing free, a dark monolith in the silvered light. He positioned himself over her, his arms on either side of her head, caging her in.

"This is my pussy now," he said, his voice a low growl. "You understand?"

Alex could only nod, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation. She was no longer Alex, your girlfriend. She was just a vessel, a willing participant in her own conquest. Your future wife just another man holes to fill. Her eyes finds yours for a few seconds.

You watch from the doorway, your heart a frantic, panicked beat against your ribs. You want to look away, to run, to escape the horror of what you're witnessing. But you're rooted to the spot, a willing spectator to your own destruction.

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