A Dance

It was 3 a.m. Like clockwork, Shanequa let herself in, and Douglas woke up to her juicy Black beaver straddling his face. She was wet tonight, very wet, but hadn't been fucked. A rarity.

"Had an interesting time tonight, honky," she said huskily, grinding down onto Douglas's face. He sucked her clit, causing her toes to curl. "Got to give a dance to a very special man ... Moses Jones." She smiled broadly as Douglas froze, then continued.

"Old fucker, but felt big down there. Paid for a few dances. Turns out, he's the new husband of that little princess bitch you used to be married to. And he had an idea ..." she grinned sadistically, pushing up, so that Douglas was eating her ass now, his soft pink tongue carressing her tight pucker. "Said a hot black woman like me shouldn't be marrying some little peckerwood like you."

She kept her assglobes wrapped around Douglas's face, barely letting him breathe, much less speak.

"We talked a bit more, I said I like the little peckerwood. He eats ass and pussy pretty good. And he said, what if I married your dumb white ass. But let him breed me. Bearing big strong pure black children. Some for me and you. Some for Moses and that little princess bitch. What you think about that peckerwood?" The almost involuntary orgasm, Douglas shooting his seed, making a mess of his stomach and chest, was all the answer Shanequa needed.