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The Storm on 24-02-2020 07:52:20

George was determined to finish cultivating the latent preference for Muslim cocks in her he knew all white women possessed. With enough grooming Alison would acquire a ferocious appetite. He had seen it occur many times before in Europe on his way to America.

“My cock is hard again and needs more relief.”

Alison could not believe what George just said to her — speaking that way with such vulgarity. He hardly knew her and she was not some floozy. He was not going to ‘relieve’ his nasty, black cock with her — ever.

“We don’t have a relationship and I can promise we are never having sex again. What we did last night was shameful and wrong. I’m married and you took advantage of me.”

Alison emerged from the bed. With the sheet wrapped around her she headed toward the chiffonier for clothes to wear.

She noticed her wet yoga bottoms and torn panties wadded together on the floor, and her yoga top, with open seams, a distance away.

Alison tried clearing her head, but had difficulty thinking. She did not feel well. Did this disgusting man tear the garments off her, haphazardly toss them and force himself on her?

Or did they have consensual sex?

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