A Happiest Yusuuf

Yusuuf placed his wife onto all fours on their marital bed, pulling up her abaya over her waist, exposing her pert, alabaster ass globes. His weighty Black fuckstick was throbbing, the veins pulsing.

"You have pleased me greatly, my wife," Yusuuf said, rubbing and squeezing her ass firmly, her beauty once again for him alone.

"That is all I aspire to, husband," Elizabeth said, almost breathlessly, her freshly waxed pussy leaking its juices, as Yusuuf's cock rubbed against it, the jet Black skin contrasting perfectly with her pink folds.

"You've submitted to Allah. You've raised the children I've sired. You've convinced your harlot friends to see the light. A finer wife I could not ask for." He pushed forward, burying his cock into his white Muslim wife, starting to spear her as only he could. She grunted under the attack, but keeping her waist fixed in position, so he could take her to the hilt.

"Breed me," she whispered.

"What is that?" Yusuuf asked, smiling slyly.

"Breed me, please, Yusuuf. Breed me with more Muslim sons. Make this neighborhood yours, forever and always."

Their cries were only one of many that night, as the Muslim men completed their conquests on this full moon, irrevocably making their neighborhood anew.