Foreign Customs

Douglas had hoped that perhaps Zainab was a butterface. But after he'd gone through all the steps, conversion, wooing, dowry, and marriage, she was just as bony and anorexic and displeasing from the face down as she was from the face up. They had a spartan meal of goat and rice, and she kept her hijab on, as they retreated to the bedroom.

They'd bought a small amount of acreage outside of town, and built up a compound -- Douglas and Zainab on one side, Ahmad and Jenny on the other. Although both couples knew both facially and deep down that the match should be different on both sides, they co-raised Ahmad's new son with Jenny, and Douglas's son, Junior.

With Elizabeth, Douglas had tried to focus on anything else -- baseball, grandmas, his cases, whatever, to last longer in Elizabeth's wet willing pussy. With Zainab, Douglas thought about Jenny, about her fake tits and big ass, how wet her cunt must be, until he was stiff enough to fuck his new bride.

For all her unattractiveness though, her dusky lipped pussy was vise tight on his cock. And she wrapped her slender legs, digging her heels into Douglas's ass and locking him in, her tight pussy milking him more than he'd ever experienced in his life. He lasted only a few minutes, as was his custom, but she kept him locked in, milking out every drop of his cum into her, and locking their future together in other ways, as well.