He also enjoyed the fact that she had become more daring with her gropes, practically jacking him off through his trousers. The small apron covering his front was struggling to contain his raging erection. “Do you want stuffing with your meat?” he enquired, while he served the main. He’d asked that same question to all the guest at that table, but it took on a very different meaning when it came to her. He nearly dropped the serving dish when she responded with, “I’d like stuffing with your meat.”When he collected the plates at the end of the main course, she handed him her napkin. She then excused herself from the table and went to the ladies-room. He couldn’t help but be mesmerized for a moment; watching her ass swing as she walked away. He entered the kitchen and read her note that was scrawled in eyeliner on the cotton napkin.Meet me and I’ll let you do anything! “Fuck. What a sexy fucking bitch! I’m going to enjoy fucking you,” he thought to himself, as he rushed to find his. The pain went away. I felt my rectum opening, my sphincter was relaxing. His black cock in me felt so large I knew my bowels were full of him, wanted more.I clenched my ass on his huge presence, was rewarded by the return of searing pain. Immediately I released. He drove higher, harder. His black cock so filled me that it rubbed my prostate on each cruel thrust. My cock, harder than it had ever been, began leaking, streaming pre-cum. It was an orgasm of sorts, but unlike any previous, as if my body, my extremities, had become liquid pouring from my cock. Unlike the lightning strike, fireworks orgasms of the past, this one dragged on and on. Consciousness left me, flowed from me with the fluid from my cock. I collapsed onto him like the skin of a deflated balloon, but still he went on and on. My cock stayed hard, its naked head flopping up and down on the cold slimy porcelain as he forced his fearsome rod up, up, up into me. The stranger shifted his weight, adjusted his feet, grabbed.
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