On your leather black widow outfit backside

You stood letting him stroke himself until he came. His warm cum spurted onto your backside, staining the leather of your costume. The smell of his sex filled the room, making you feel even more alive than before.

Your Halloween costume, once a symbol of women power and for you a little embarrassment, is now a sticky, cum-soaked prison. The weight of his cum on your back makes you feel cheap. You want to wipe it off, but instead, you stand there, as Mr. Jackson's grip on your shoulders tightens, his breathing returning to normal.

"Look at that beautiful fat white ass. Just like Natasha herself," Mr. Jackson murmurs in satisfaction, his grip on your shoulders loosening slightly. His cum is sticky and cold against your skin, a stark reminder of what you just allowed to happen.

You pull away from him, turning to face the TV, avoiding his gaze. "Can I go now, Mr. Jackson?" You ask, your voice small and defeated. You don't dare to look at the mess he's made of your costume, focusing instead on the images flickering on the screen, trying to find some semblance of normalcy.

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