Picking Him Up

Carrie entered the jailhouse with two of the three requested items. She sat down in the lobby and waited for Tyson to be outprocessed. After an hour, he came out. Fuck, he was physically imposing, she thought. He was imperious as his eyes met hers.

"Got my stuff, bitch?" he said.

"I do," she replied sweetly. She offered up the cheeseburger to him first. He ate it noisily, his first real meal in ages. When he was finished, he offered up his juice riddled fingers to her lips, and nodded in approval when she dutifully sucked them clean.

"Good bitch. Now put my shoes on," he said, kicking off the crocs. She pulled the brand new Air Jordans out of the package, putting the laces in. He wiggled his toes.

"Kiss my feet first bitch." She looked up at him, and leaned down, planting a soft, wet kiss on each foot.

"Who do you belong to?" Carrie shivered.

"I belong to black men now."

"That's a good cunt. Now get those shoes on me." The security guards rolled their eyes. How does this guy get such a hot girl to **** herself like this?

Ten minutes later, the new couple walked out to Carrie's car. Tyson slapped her ass and took the keys.

"My car now, bitch."