Moving In

Elizabeth watched the last box of Douglas's possessions go into the moving truck. Years of a life together, now gone. It was her and her three children, but just for a few minutes.

Shortly after the tail lights disappeared on the truck taking Douglas's possessions to New York, came a second moving van -- filled with Yusuuf's spartan possessions. He brought mostly clothes, some Islamic artwork, some African artwork that had inspired him. He entered the house, as a king arriving home.

"Hello, Yusuuf," Elizabeth said shyly. The slender, muscular Somalian embraced her, kissing her passionately.

"I see the old is out. In with the new," Yusuuf observed. The walls were barren of the photos of Elizabeth and Douglas. She was ready for a fresh start.

"It is. And are you ready for that reality?" Elizabeth asked, her breath catching in her throat.

"I have been ready for this, from the moment I first laid eyes on you. To the bedroom with you," he said. He enjoyed ordering her about, as she obeyed without a second thought. When he entered the bedroom, she was already nude, her breasts large and filled with milk, her pussy wet for him. His disrobed, and she licked her lips hungrily.

"That's my white bitch. My property," he said. He always made sure to emphasize his position over her, his dominance over her.

"Yours," she repeated simply, reaching down to rub her clit. He strode over to her, already mostly hard, his cock already jutting obscenely outward. There was no pomp or circumstance today. This was just pure fucking of a single man and a single woman, taking dominion of her, conquering her for his race and his religion, and most importantly, for his use. His balls popped her ass loudly, as she moaned and whimpered and grunted her way to a series of climaxes.

"Mine," he hissed into her ear. "Mine, always."

"Yours," Elizabeth whined. "Fuck me, Yusuuf, fuck me, always fuck me." She came again, creaming his big black cock, as he finally rewarded her with his seed.

"Always," he agreed.