Dreams, Part I

Carrie was on her back. Mohammad was above her, pushing her legs apart. He was naked; she only had her panties on. Between his legs was a large, fat Arabic cock. Carrie had never wanted anything more. He was there to conquer her.

He was only speaking a foreign language to her, yet she was obeying his every command. She wrapped her legs around his strong ass and thighs, as his cock head poked and prodded at her clit. He leaned down, kissing her, claiming her soft, wet, wanting both as his cock finally buried into her soft, wanton pussy.

"Oh Mohammad, yes," Carrie cried out, but Mohammad only grunted in his native tongue, building up speed until his balls were slapping her asshole. Carrie knew implicitly he was there to breed. And she knew their children wouldn't be white .. wouldn't be American ... and definitely wouldn't be Christian. She was so close to cumming ...

***

Carrie woke, covered in sweat. It was 3 a.m. She got out her dildo and turned on her computer, looking up refugees and white women ... Arabic men and white women ... Afghani men and white women. Video after video, plunging her dildo in and out of her cunt. When she stopped, it was 8 a.m., and her sheets were sodden. What was happening to her? She'd never even kissed him!