Darker Chocolate

Gianna Ferrari fruitlessly wandered the streets of the ghetto, searching for D-Train and Jamaal. She chewed on her plush lower lip in frustration, so in need of this to get out her pent-up energy. She was about to throw in the towel, when he walked out.

God, he was built, Gianna thought, feeling her pussy get wet. Big biceps, well-defined abs under a shirt that left little to the imagination, and gray sweatpants that spelled out exactly what she needed.

"Hey," Gianna said, approaching the ebony Adonis. His brow furrowed.

"I think you're lost, bitch," he said gruffly. He looked at her, masking his interest, the feigned indifference only intriguing Gianna more.

"Just ... looking for a good time," Gianna said. The man nodded a block over to the east.

"Weed, coke, whatever you want is down that way," he said. Gianna shook her head. She reached down, grasping his tool in his sweatpants.

"This kind of fun," she purred. He smirked. These white bitches. This one was particularly **** to end up on these mean streets. He nodded back over his shoulder, to his tiny studio apartment.

***

His name was Tave, short for Quintavious. He worked as a personal trainer at a gym on the nicer side of town. He had a bare, broken mattress. He was jacked as Gianna had first suspected, 6'6 of gleaming Black muscle, and a huge cock that thrust deeply inside her, hitting all of her spots. Gianna gripped the stained edges of the mattresses, her silken cunt walls hugging him tightly.

"Fuckin' white bitch," Tave growled, pounding the voluptuous beauty. "God that pussy is on point."

She moaned, as he plunged so fuckin' deep, his balls loudly slapping her asshole. He suddenly stopped his rutting, his cockhead in her womb, as he started spraying thick ropes of cum inside her, causing her to have her own violent orgasm.

"Fuck," she panted. "You wanna go again?" He just smiled broadly.