Excited

Abigail spent the rest of the day resting at home; the eighteen year old had lost her virginity to a skilled, mature black Muslim man she had never met before, she had been subjected to vigorous, exhaustive sex; she was drained, both physically and mentally. Her pussy was tender and swollen, as were her breasts and her shoulders were sore where he gripped her; Ahmed, though an older man, still possessed considerable physical strength and easily had her under control.

The christian girl lay on her bed as the late evening summer’s sun shone on her through her window, she had undressed and hadn’t showered. She wanted to keep his sweat, saliva and semen and enjoy his heady masculine scent through the night.

She wore just her flimsy nightie, pushed up to expose her raw, exploited pussy to the cool evening air wafting in through her window. She wanted to hitch up her nightie around her waist and stand at her wide open window and show everyone her throbbing pink pussy, she longed to show that she was a black-fucked white woman.

She was both thrilled and astonished that the act she had long dreamt of had actually occurred inside her, interracial, interreligious sex. The fact that her bigoted father would be devastated if he knew she had yielded her most precious gift, to an old black immigrant, older than he, spellbound her; her body once more aroused, her pussy, still wet with his Somali semen, her neck, throbbing from bite marks, her nipples still tender from his Somali hands and lips and her heaving white breasts proudly bearing his teeth marks, betrayed her sexual excitement. Her hands reached for her achingly rigid left nipple and her moist, semen rich, inflamed pussy.

Lying half naked on her bed, gently caressing her sex, she was as yet oblivious to the beginning of a new life inside her. She believed that a girl could not conceive after her ‘first time’. Her christian education had repeatedly taught her that sex before marriage was a sin but had failed to adequately educate her of the biology of sex.

She also doubted the old man’s ability to sire a child. Her uninformed knowledge of the details of reproduction instructed her that men and women past the age of fifty could not produce a child. Abigail was largely correct in one instance, but in the other the fertilized egg inside her was proving her wrong.

Ahmed’s sperm had reached her egg in her fallopian tube after swimming up her cervix after his cock had shot his copious flood of semen up her vagina, his hard, erect cock tearing her hymen (popping her cherry). Approximately fifty minutes after she had felt his first spurt of warm semen containing millions of robust African sperm inside her, a single, victorious sperm had penetrated her egg and fertilized it, just as she was climbing the stairs to her bedroom. The battle would now begin between Abigail’s white english and Ahmed’s black Somali genes to govern the appearance and characteristics of their child. It was a battle Abigail was largely going to lose. Her baby would be heavily and predominantly African. Her baby was going to be most magnificently black.

Ahmed visited his terminally ill wife in hospital that evening. Her condition had improved and the medical staff were confident that she had stabilized and with the help of her medication, hoped that she might have a few more months of life. She was not afraid of **** however, her Muslim faith was strong, as was her husband’s but he was glad that she was not in so much pain and shared the doctors’ wish that he might have her for a while longer.

She was cheered by his news of the afternoon’s events. She wondered, as he did, if this girl was on birth control. Ahmed was puzzled; she was a good church girl, that she had succumbed to him was no bearing on her decency, she was a white english girl and they were innately open to to black and Asian men; she must have been on birth control, surely? She couldn’t be so easy to impregnate, could she? He told his wife that the christian girl had agreed to revisit him, in fact she had pleaded with him to have more sex with her. He had conquered and secured her for Somalia and Islam, of this he was in no doubt.

Ahmed’s wife was proud of him; the girl would soon benefit from a life within their community, protected and prized and pregnant. She smiled. She suggested that some christian schools chose not to teach their pupils sufficient sex education. Perhaps that was the situation with this girl? Ahmed pondered this. Perhaps his wife was correct. He smiled at her, she had always been a wise woman, and he was in turn, proud of her.

Later that evening after watching too many videos of pretty white women swallowing black and Asian mens’ semen on the internet Abigail went downstairs; Ahmed had driven her to voluptuous, sensual agitation, she had to display her fucked cunt. She knew that her father was downstairs watching sports; her mother was already in bed. Abigail had noticed that her parents never went to bed at the same time. Abigail’s skimpy nightie barely covered her breasts and the hemline was closer to her pussy than her knee. Her father would see plenty of her; Abigail was overpowered and overwhelmed and bewitched by her first experience of sex and her first sight of a naked black man had left her absolutely hypnotized, and now her body was still sore and swollen and bruised and marked from the African’s corruption of her and she craved more exploitation by him, her yearning to be a white **** now intensified by the ecstasy of serving him. She had to show her father what she had surrendered to a black man.