Tammy the Gold Digger

Zaid awoke the next morning with a severe case of Morning Wood. He can't remember experience such a hard boner upon waking since he had been in his thirties, perhaps. The sleeping lion (his cock) had been awakened now, and there was no settling it back into its old serenity. From now on, only intense sexual hunger, and even more intense satisfaction of that hunger. He would gorge himself on white British pussy, ass, and mouth. He was the kid with the key to the candy store now! He purposely didn't plan his day in too much detail, preferring his next prey to surprise him when she came into his presence.

But some things in his life were dictated for him. As Jamilia served him a hearty breakfast, he thought through the day. He had spent the entire day yesterday in what he though of as Shop #3, in the poorest district. But today, he would have to split his time between the other two shops. Shop #1 was the flagship of the chain, the store where he'd started as a junior manager, and where his hard work had paid off. Mr. Charles Bentley, or "The Old Man" had liked the hard-working Zaid, and trained him to be his successor when the time came. And when the time came, Zaid was ready. Through years of frugality and careful investments, he was not only able to be promoted to Senior Manager; he actually bought the shop from The Old Man. Shop #2, in a middle-class district, and Shop #3, those came later.

He wondered if his prey would be as willing at the upscale Shop #1 and both Judy and Abi had been the day before. He was confident, but not overly so. He knew who he was, and what he possessed ... and he WAS a lot, and HAD a lot. He need fear no woman. So it was with confident exuberance that he piloted his immaculate white Range Rover into the city and parked it in the spot reserved for "Owner".

He strode confidently inside and was greeted cheerily by Nigel Pence, his Manager for Shop #1. Nigel was trustworthy, not a social climber, dependable, and - if anyone cared - unapologetically queer. The wealthy wives who shopped here absolutely adored him. Truth be told, Zaid could probably leave Nigel a week or more without any supervision, and all would be smooth sailing. But he definitely planned to make a good morning of it, eating up sweet confections in the "candy" store. This required a brief and discreet word with Nigel.

"I say," began Zaid. "You don't mind if I spend a bit of time this morning, walking the floor like in the old days?"

"Not a bit, Sir!" Nigel replied enthusiastically.

"And I'll be spending some private time in the office later in the morning - no interruptions, OK?"

'Understood, Sir!" Nigel replied with the faintest hint of a wink. A "plausible deniability" but Zaid got the message. He could always count on Nigel Pence for complete discretion.

Zaid made his way down the back hallway to his well-appointed office. He meant to put a few things in order, but has he sat on his rich green-upholstered leather seat and surveyed the room, he could see that (as usual) nothing was out of place. He did take time to clear the desk, including the fancy desk calendar and his family photos. The photos of Jamilia and the children were placed on a high shelf, and turned away from the desk. Something told him that the large flat mahogany top of the desk would be getting some use today.

With the office squared away, Zaid stepped briskly onto the step floor and began to move among the early morning customers. His heavy Somali cock was already throbbing with the excitement of the hunt. His mind took him back to the early days of working this same floor, under the tutelage of Mr. Bentley, The Old Man. They were happy memories, but he was about to make some even happier ones.

Meanwhile, back at Shop #3, Judy was in heat. She had dressed in a very short skirt that day, hoping that Zaid would come see, want, and use her lush, well-round bum. But she was disappointed that her Boss did not turn up. She had to content herself with quick, furious wanking sessions in the Ladies' when on her brief breaks. She wanted a cock SO BADLY! She was wetter than ever. Zaid had awoken a lusty tigress within her, and now she felt insatiable. She did bend over for a few handsome male customers, but she limited herself to that. She wanted to be faithful to her Boss, who had so recently captured her for his own sexual use. There would always be tomorrow, she thought, as she frantically rubbed herself on her breaks from work. She couldn't wait until quitting time, when she'd ber able to return to her flat and pleasure herself with an electric toy or two, to the memories of being used the previous day by Zaid, her Somali King.

To be sure, Abi was having similar withdrawal symptoms. Fortunately, she had the care of her young Somali baby boy to occupy her time. But her mind would wander, especially when she was nursing little Yusuf, or after he had gone down for a nap. Her every thought was only how to get Zaid's beautiful cock inside her again. How she could arrange to serve him again sexually. She had to think of something; her soul was on fire with need for him! But unlike Judy, she had another outlet for her sexual need: Yusuf's well-hung father, Ahmed. Ahmed hadn't contacted her often since she had given birth to their child, but she had missed him, missed his Muslim superiority, missed his heavy, throbbing cock-weapon. She knew that today was the day. She would surprise him with a visit to his bungalow, where her entire interfaith, interracial slavery adventure had started. While Yusuf was down for his nap, she pulled a provocative mini-dress over her head, pleased at how incredibly round and large her lactating breasts seems in this dress! Ahmed would be driven mad, for sure. He'd have to empty himself into her, make her again her christian girl cum-vessel. She made sure that Yusuf was sleeping peacefully and that there were two bottles of her recently expressed, nutritious white-girl breast milk were ready in the fridge. Then, she covered over her scandalous dress with a light overcoat and went to fetch Mary, the teenage daughter of her neighbors. Mary had already successfully been her babysitter for Yusuf when circumstance required. She could have a good 90 minutes with Ahmed, and Yusuf would be well cared-for.

Mary was willing, happy even, to earn a bit of money babysitting for Abi, and all was arranged about the breast-milk bottles and burping instructions, and Abi was gone in a whirlwind, hastily making her way to Ahmed's dwelling.

Back at Shop #1, most of Zaid's customers had been handsome but sexually uninteresting older ladies. Great for business, but beneath his being moved by sexually. Then, he spotted her. She stood out in stark contrast to every other customer. It was Tammy Spencer, the younger second wife of a very prominent local man in his early sixties. Tammy was probably about 35 to 37 years old in Zaid's estimation. He had seen her before, and she had always seemed unapproachable. But his conquests of the previous day had stirred a new confidence in him. Her mini-skirt, thigh-high boots, and immaculately made-up face were now stirring something equally powerful in his fuck stick. Against his will, it went erect and its shape was clearly visible between through is thin, expensively tailored trousers. It had to happen just as he approached her to say hello, he thought.

"Why hello, Mr. Zaid ..." Tammy said, but she had only maintained eye contact for a fraction of a second. She was now staring at the enormous boner projecting out sideways in his pants, a definite smile beginning to form on her curved lips. "So wonderful to ... _see _you!" His attempt at eye contact was brief as well. He was now staring down at her intimidatingly expensive engagement ring. The diamond in it seemed as large to Zaid as his own Muslim sex weapon now seemed to Tammy.

Unbeknownst to Zaid, Tammy had long had a sort of mathematical relationship in her mind between the length of her (would-be) lover's cock and the size of diamond he was willing to put on her finger. Click the link to see a graph of Tammy's diamond size requirement versus the suitor's cock length.

https://imgur.com/a/q7E4qN6

A few things are immediately evident from this mathematical plot: First, Mr. Spencer was possessed of an exceedingly tiny cock. That's why it took such a large diamond to win her ... if not love ... then sexual cooperation. Secondly, as she eyed Zaid's enormous Somali thunder cock, it flitted through Tammy Spencer's mind that he could win her sexual favors with nothing more than a cigar band to put on her finger. Their mutual need boiled over.

"Is there somewhere we can go?" Tammy almost demanded. She was not merely prey, Zaid realized; she was a hunter in her own right!

"My office ... please follow me, Mrs. Spencer."

"Tammy; call me Tammy."

They tried hard to hurry to the office without seeming to run. The only person to realize their haste was Nigel, and he just smiled to himself, only a bit jealous of the cock that Tammy Spencer would soon be pleasuring.

As they approached the door to Zaid's office, he took stock of her again. A perfect 10/10 face, delicately curved nose, big blue eyes. Perky, well-round tits that were either unusually large natural ones, or the work of the very best plastic surgeon in the city. He would soon find out.

Inside the office, with the deadbolt safely locked, they dispensed with formalities, and practically ripped off their own clothing. Before Zaid could even get his dress shirt unbuttoned, Tammy was standing before him, offering herself to him, with only her over-the-knee boots remaining to adorn her body. No, that was not quite accurate. He saw that she still had her christian cross around her neck, dangling from its delicate gold chain.

"Oh, I am going to fuck the devil into this white christian slutwife", Zaid thought. He continued to undress, and Tammy was the picture of calm composure ... that is, until Zaid's manhood sprung out free from his boxers, at which she could not stifle a small gasp.

"Zaid ... you are PACKING! Why have we never done this before?"

Tammy Spencer was agitated to make up for lost time now. As was Zaid.

Normally, one would think of a strong black man, a dominant Muslim soldier, forcing his prey to her knees, to get his cock ready using her mouth. But Tammy did not drop to her knees, and his cock was all the way erect, engorged with flesh-hardening blood as he had never felt before. So, that kind of foreplay was not strictly necessary.

And additionally, Tammy was standing tall and bold in her 5-inch heeled boots, with her feet set a bit more than shoulder wide. So, though Zaid hesitated to yield up any amount of power to a white woman, he dropped to his knees and began to voraciously eat her cheating married pussy. It was dripping wet already; wet enough for penetration. A random question occurred to him, and he paused in his oral ministrations.

"Tell me about your husband's cock."

Tammy laughed out loud. "There's nothing to tell."

And that was all Zaid needed to hear. He picked her up under her thighs, lifted her mightily until her fuck-hole was poised above his now vertical cock tower, and let gravity plunge her down onto the full length of his Muslim shaft.

"Fuck me, Zaid! Fuck me good and hard! Fuck me, my Somali King!"

Zaid was more than eager to comply. She had her arms crossed around the back of his neck, and he had both hands reached under her thighs to grab her magnificent bubble butt now, lifting her, dropping her down balls deep, lifting her almost off his cock head and then dropping her down onto his heavy, throbbing Muslim sex cannon again. And again and again. From Tammy's response, it appeared that no lover had every man-handled her this way before. She was like a rag doll, moved around easily by his great strength.

Whatever dominance she had shown standing in her dominatrix-style boots ... had evaporated now.

"Fuck my nasty hole, Zaid! Fuck my like your with whore!"

It was a miracle that Zaid hadn't gushed out his impatient Load already, but he was able to hold off. Finally, his biceps muscles filled with lactic acid and he needed to set her down. He set her bum cheeks directly at the edge of his empty mahogany desktop and began to plow her field (the field belonging formerly to Mr. Spencer, but now owned fully by Zaid), to rail her mercilessly, to ram her, bone her, lay pipe, jack hammering his rigid cock endlessly between her very large and wet labia. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. She was gone from this world for a moment, to a place where the only thing that mattered was her ecstasy and being Zaid's pretty little fuckmeat. She fucking LOVED this!

"This had _better _not be the only time this happens!" she thought to herself in a moment of coherence. Then, she was blinded again by the oppressive fog of Pleasure, unable to form any thought more coherent than, "Fuck me harder!"

After what seemed like twenty minutes, Zaid was at the edge. Tammy had already orgasmed twice, and he was aiming to give her a third pleasure climax just as he emptied his huge balls into her waiting christian cum receptacle.

It worked. The sheer volume of Somali semen, as measured by the eleven separate and strong spurts from his cock head, must have been enormous. He had literally flooded her womb. She was now in an afterglow that put heaven on her face.

"Thank you!" was all she could manage to whisper to Zaid.