She shows Dad her Somali-fucked pussy.

Eighteen year old Abi, now in a frenzy to show her father how the mighty Somali warrior, Ahmed, had used her, descended the staircase to the main level of the house. Before she did so, however, she listened by the door of her parent's bedroom to confirm the slow, steady rhythm of her sleeping mother's breathing. Check. Mom was not an anti-Muslim bigot like Dad. This show was going to be a teachable moment, but for Dad only. She ached to show him her freshly black-fucked pussy, with the extra Somali cum load still oozing out from between her labia.

Ahmed's quickest, his most winning sperm cell had plunged into Abi's unprotected egg a few hours earlier, and there was a tiny, single-celled zygote within her, of which she knew nothing. In that cell was carried on the struggle of the ages: victorious Muslim sperm genetics conquering her defeated Christian egg. This was the story that was now being repeated and rehearsed all over Britain. It wasn't enough that Britain had largely capitulated to Islamic "refugees" and invaders. Now, every white English girl's womb would also surrender. The end game of this trend was the literal explosion of the UK Muslim population. The same story was being repeated in Wales, for example. And in every case, Muslim genetics triumphed. By the time her little zygote had reached the blastocyst stage and attached to her uterine wall, about a week later, the surrender would have been all but complete. The progressive cell cleavage would render the unborn child's genetics more obviously African with each cell division.

But Abi knew nothing of this as she descended the staircase of her English home, long pale legs bare, her brief nightie barely covering her ass cheeks as she reached the bottom of the stairs. There was Dad, sitting in his upholstered recliner chair, glued on the telly, watching the day's cricket highlight reels. He saw her shape in his peripheral vision, but did not look away from the television. Abi sat diagonally across from her father on the main sofa. Still he did not look over to her. Her father knew that Abi often suffered from insomnia, and so this seemed to him business-as-usual. The reason for his daughter's insomnia was almost always the same: frenzy from watching interracial, interfaith porn. It agitated her in an exciting way, and made sleep seem like such a waste, compared to seeing the next video of a white girl being plowed by her well-endowed black lover.

She tried clearing her throat, but apparently cricket was still more important to her dad. Finally, she flung open the nighty, exposing her bruised breasts, the bite marks on her white neck, and most of all her oozing slutty Christian cunt.

"D'you know what I did today, Dad?"

"Sure, you were out delivering envelopes for the chu ... Great mother of God, what's gotten into you, Abi?!"

"That's what I came to show you, Dad! I want to tell you just what ... or rather WHO has gotten into me!"

Abi's Dad tore at his thinning hair. Ever since Abi had reached puberty, and it became obvious what a boy-magnet she was going to be, he had worried about her losing her virginity before marriage to a fine, Christian lad. Now it had happened! He lamented. He was shocked, even though he suspected and feared it would happen."

"Oh, Abi ... how ... look, you've still got jizz pouring out of you! How ... and WHO did this to you? Was it Nigel from church? Or Trevor from school? I'm going to have a talk with whoever it was!"

"Oh, no Dad, it was nobody like that. It was a sweet old black Somali man I met on my rounds today. He had a stunningly powerful cock, and he put it right in me! It was so big and dark and glorious!"

Her father's heart rate went up to 135 beats per minute. His breath became shallow, and he almost fainted.

"You really shouldn't hate on Muslim men this way, Dad! It's not good for your health! And now, I'm going to ask you to do something for me. No, scratch that. I'm not going to ask, Dad. I'm going to tell you to do something, and you're going to do it!"