A Date with D-Train

Elizabeth was dolled up to the nines. She wasn't that far off from giving birth to her second daughter, and here she was on the wrong side of town, in a decrepit soul food restaurant, watching the young teenaged thug across the table polishing off his meal. He was handsome in his own way, but scarier in more ways still. He was wearing a new pair of Air Jordans, courtesy of Elizabeth. What the hell was she doing, she thought.

Afterwards, he took her back to his place. It was a shack, really. The roof leaked every time it rained. The oven didn't work. And then D-Train pulled out his cock, and none of that really mattered anymore.

She took the footlong plus tool into her hand, tugging on it, still uncomprehending. Her breath caught in her throat, as he gently pushed her down to her knees. She held the shaft up, kissing and lapping at the heavy hanging nutsack.

"So fucking big," Elizabeth said, her eyes glazed over staring down the massive fuckstick.

"C'mon, bitch, suck on it," D-Train ordered. "You're my ho, now." Elizabeth's nose wrinkled, but she didn't object. She let the heavy shaft fall onto her face, slapping it against her cheek, then wrapping her lips around the uncut tip. D-Train sat down onto his bed, letting his thighs splay open widely. He pushed Elizabeth's head down, making her rim him.

"Now that you're my ho full-time, you give me full service," he said gruffly. He tugged Elizabeth's silky dark locks up, then laid her on her side. The bed creaked as he pushed his large, fat prick into Elizabeth's soaked pussy. Despite the many reservations she had about D-Train, the man could fuck. He settled into a hard, fast rhythm, deep dicking the housewife, groping her heavy breasts, causing them to leak milk. After she was chewing her knuckles and whining so loud the neighbors could here, he finally rewarded her with his cum, filling her womb up with his potent seed. Too bad his ho was already pregnant, he thought ruefully.