Marcus scrolled through the site, his sharp eyes landing on her profile amid the usual noise. Tall and lean with a shaved head and well-kept beard, he looked every bit the successful bad boy in his casual style, but no one knew the beast lurking beneath his gentlemanly facade. Her photo stopped him cold: that honey-skinned mixed-race beauty spreading her asscheeks, neon pink fishnet barely hiding the mangled balloon-knot of her asshole. "If u looking 4 nasty, I'm your gal," it read. He texted instantly, and she replied with broken-English fire: "Like what U see? Bring 500 and some rock, whiteboy. My spot downtown."
He arrived at her apartment, cash and crack in hand, his 10.5-inch cock already twitching at the thought. She opened the door in that cut-out bodysuit, long hair flowing past her ass, looking tired but fierce. "You got the goods? Good, 'cause I don't do charity for rich boys chasing ghetto ass," she said with a smirk, taking the payment and lighting up. "Most Johns want easy pussy, but you? Straight for the backdoor like it's your kingdom."
"Pussy's boring," Marcus shot back, his voice low and commanding as he watched her exhale. "I want that high-mileage asshole wrecked and dripping. Bend over and show me your blown-out whore hole." She laughed, strong and unyielding, spreading herself anyway. "Demanding for a suburban whiteboy. Bet you couldn't handle a real blowjob without tapping out, let alone this ass. But pay's pay—get that hard cock ready."
Tension crackled as she got high, her body relaxing into the high while her wit stayed sharp. "Why a guy like you skips normal dates for crackwhores?" she asked, panting lightly as he stripped. "Your secret life got you hooked on nasty ebony ass?" He grinned, stroking his thick cock. "Because normal women don't let me pound for 25 minutes straight. You? You're perfect—horny, wet, and ready to take it rough."
He pushed her down, condom on, slamming into her ass with animal force. She grunted but fired back, "Harder? You think that soda-can dick impresses me? I've had trains run on this hole." Sweat beaded on their skin as he pounded deep and fast, her ass gripping him while she panted commands. "Don't you dare touch my pussy—stick to what you paid for, beast."
The session built to frenzy, her long hair whipping as he railed her ass, ignoring her occasional pleas for gentler but loving her dirty talk. She stayed strong, dripping with effort, until he ripped off the condom at the peak. "Fuck, that shit-streaked proof," he growled, erupting massive cum across her face and hair in torrents. She came down panting, sweating, but smirked through it. "Not bad for a first round, rich boy."
He watched her light another hit, intrigued by her resilience and the way she owned every filthy moment. "Round two in ten?" she teased, already hinting at more than just the transaction. "This ass might just ruin you for anyone else."
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga - or write a steamy tale starring you.