Jabo's Fiancee

Jabo slept nude in the bed he now shared with Elizabeth, and the expectation was mutual. Jabo was long and lean, though he had no tattoos -- made him too easily identifiable, he told her. She looked at his nude frame, his skin already the darkest ebony, and she was barely able to make him out in the middle of the night.

He had a heavy cock that hung halfway down his thigh, the tip covered by thick foreskin. He kept his genitals manscaped. Even soft and in mid-sleep, he still dwarfed her ex-husband.

She'd come to find Jabo to be a curious mix. He was a strict father to her children. He was an ardent lover. He was protective. But he was still in a place he shouldn't be -- an interloper in the oasis of white privilege that was the neighborhood. When Douglas had first proposed this cockamamie idea, he'd picked people that had their struggles, but none that were both objectively and subjectively dangerous. And here she was.

She picked up his cock in her dainty hand, leaning down to suck the tip, gently. He was a fastidious groomer and cleaner, and he spent almost as much time in the shower as she did. She could smell the clean musk as she wrapped her plush pink lips around his rod, starting to give her fiancee a blowjob. He murmured approvingly as she coaxed him out of his reverie.

"You are insatiable, aren't you?" he groaned, his cock visibly stiffening.

"Indeed," Elizabeth responded curtly, her hand sliding to her balls as she started to give her man proper head, her raven hair held firmly by Jabo. Soon enough, she was **** on his thick meat, his hands tight in her hair, skullfucking his bitch. And she managed to get her own sleep finally, his thick cum drying on her face.