The Ink Isn't Even Dry

Elizabeth was at the kitchen table. It'd been a month since she'd filed for divorce. A month since she'd given birth to her child. They'd worked out most of the settlement for the divorce. The vast majority of their wealth went to her of course, including the mansion and a healthy monthly stipend for alimony and child support. Douglas moved into the seedy apartment complex where Antoine and Jamaal lived, two doors down from Shanequa.

"Whatcha got there?" Moses said, strolling into the kitchen, nude. His large, heavy cock hung menacingly between his thighs.

"Well, I know what you have there," Elizabeth said slyly. "These are the divorce papers. I just need to sign them."

"Finally. Be good to be rid of ole peckerwood," Moses said. He reached down, stroking his cock. He didn't need much in Elizabeth's presence. "Why don't we mark it up right," he said.

"However do you mean?" Elizabeth said. Moses kissed his prize, his conquest, then repositioned her, so she was leaning over the table. Her pert, round white alabaster rear was in the air. He gave it a slap, then stroked his cock until he was fully stiff.

"Oh, Moses," Elizabeth whimpered, spreading her thighs more.

"Now sign," Moses commanded, handing her an ink pen, one that gave off a lot of ink. She signed her name to the divorce document, then moaned as he pushed his thick black snake into her wanton white pussy, her cunt trained for him now. Her upper body pushed down against the table, wet ink getting onto her breasts as she pushed down on the paperwork. He reached under her, lifting her up a little as he fucked her, the elderly buck treating her like a puppet. He kneaded her breasts, until droplets of her milk started to stain the pages.

"That's right. Now that'll give him a reminder of what he gave up," Moses said, as he went back to pounding the now former wife of Douglas into oblivion.