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The Storm on 22-03-2020 17:29:14

“Oh, you feel so good,” George exclaimed from the soothing relief of dipping his hard, aching cock into her tight, wet, silky cunt. This was the rich white reward for going to a Christian church and for all his patience, planning and persistence.

“It’s okay, I’m in now. I’ll go easy.”

“Ow, no, it really hurts… feels different,” Alison whimpered as George slowly, but steadily, inserted more of his thick length into her.

“Take it out,” she bleated as her pussy stretched way beyond dimensions suiting a Caucasian male.

“You’ll get used to it and start loving it soon,” George said, his gargantuan cock barely fitting in her, bottoming out and beginning an unhurried, temporary retreat.

“Don’t, ow, ow — ooh…” Alison began moaning, in synchronization with George’s gentle thrusts — beginning languidly, like the steady, creeping cadence of a car’s windshield wipers set low on a drizzly night.

George’s fleshy cock pulled Alison’s tightly stretched vaginal labia in the direction it traveled.

Beguiled into believing George was her husband, she thought he felt very different tonight. But it been ages since they had sex. Their love life had diminished to nothing since they first married.

Her husband’s penis was now tremendously thicker and longer than she remembered. It took forever going all the way into her — so deeply, filling her completely — then backing almost all the way out. The sensations, unlike any she had ever experienced, became less unpleasant as her anatomy grudgingly adapted to a superiorly endowed partner.

“Ooh sweat heart,” Alison gasped, her hands gliding up his muscular back and embracing him.

“Does my Muslim cock feel good in your tight, white kafir pussy?” George locked his lips to hers before she could reply.

Did her ears deceive her? “Muslim cock… white kafir pussy?” Alison wondered. Why would her husband say that to her? He never spoke that way or used those ugly, vulgar words.

“Mmmm,” Alison moaned

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