Working Off Stress

The bed creaked in protest. Above Elizabeth was her husband, Antoine. The air conditioning barely worked in their house, so both of them were coated in a thick layer of sweat. He leaned down, sucking on her ample, milk-filled breasts.

"Oh fuck, baby," Elizabeth whimpered.

"That pussy, so fucking good," Antoine grunted. His thick black frame rutted obscenely into his statuesque, alabaster-skinned white wife, his balls pummeling her asshole. They were both horribly stressed, and this was the best way to work it off, they found.

He reached down, rubbing her clit between two of his fingers, tugging it, making her moan loudly. He buried his shaft deeply inside her, spraying her womb with his cum. She was on birth control, as they couldn't afford another child yet, but her wanton pussy milked his cock for every drop.

"I love you, Antoine," Elizabeth whispered. Antoine kissed her, his eyes filled with tears.

"I love you too, baby. I'll find us a way out of this."

Elizabeth looked out the window, at the strip club. Not if I find a way first, she thought.