Casandra was on sensory overload; she heard the moans of a whore, her moans.  And Tyrone, her chauffeur was grunting each time he rammed his long thick cock into her forty-five-year-old pussy.

Henry’s Café, she read on the lighted sign as she looked out the back window of the limousine.

Tyrone wore only his chauffeur’s hat, and his tie; the only clothes remaining on him at her request were also in her vision.

She was on the back seat of the limousine, bent fully in half with her naked ass hanging off the edge of the seat and her legs being held up by her massive black stud.

Her legs and stomach were quivering, her pussy throbbing as her third orgasm began to form.

“Oh my God, Tye, your cock, your amazing cock is going to rip me apart!” she moaned.

Her jacket and skirt were on the floor, her shirt open exposing her silicon bolt-on tits, and the bra that he ripped off her lay on the floor next to her red silk panties that were useless now as well.

“You complaining? You sure changed your tune, didn’t you?” he replied, his breath ragged as he continued to fuck his white boss’ wife; using her like a common whore.

“Oh, oh my god!” Casandra screeched; the most powerful orgasm of her life washed over her causing her to grunt and bear down, showering Tyrone and the carpet with a huge squirt of piss and cum.

“Damn, you sure know how to cum now, don’t you,” Tyrone chuckled.

“Fuck, what have you done to me?” Casandra moaned. “I’ve never, ever done anything like that. Your cock goes so deep inside me there is nowhere else to go. Nobody has fucked me, used me so good, ever,” she told him.

“I’m gonna cum, want it on your tits again?” Tyrone asked.

“Oh, don’t you fucking dare, you fill this married white pussy up with that; I want every last drop inside me!” she sharply replied; her hands on his ass pulling him into her.

“There’s that slut coming out; I figured she’d show up sooner or later,” he told her before he grunted and began to pump her pussy full of his thick seed.

Tyrone pulled out and a cream pie of his cum plopped onto the carpet. “Sorry, too much, I guess." He smiled.

“Well, we’ll have to clean that up, this car smells like sex!” Casandra replied as Tyrone opened the car door and grabbed his trousers, pulling them on.

While he was dressing outside, Casandra buttoned up her shirt, pulled her skirt on zipped it, then pulled her jacket on.

“Guess you got some souvenirs,” she laughed as she threw the useless bra and panties out the door.

“Ha, you told me to be rough,” he replied.

“You make me feel like such a whore, I love it!” Casandra told him.

********

“So, what’s this place, anyway?  Both times we’ve been together this week, it’s been in this parking lot,” Casandra said.

“This is my cousin’s place; he’ll make sure nobody mentions the limousine at a café in the poor part of town.”

“Ah, I see, good thinking,” Casandra replied.

Casandra went silent for the rest of the drive; she was replaying the last week in her mind, trying to get her head around what had happened just because she flirted with Tyrone.

“Don’t you tease me, little rich white girl. You want some Tyrone loving, I’ll give you more than you can handle,” he had told her when she slapped his muscular ass while getting in the car.

“Who says I’m teasing?” she had replied without thinking.

That night, after her meeting, she’d found herself at Henry’s Café, in the parking lot alone with Tyrone, and for the first time, she’d been with another man from her husband.

He used her so hard that her belly hurt from the orgasms, and of course, his thick cock. 

Now, it had happened again, and she had no intention of stopping it.

She was pulled out of her daze when the limousine pulled into the driveway of the estate.

The car stopped and Tyrone jumped out, moving quickly around the car to open her door and help her out.

“Thank you, Tyrone,” she said softly as the door slammed.

“You’re most welcome, Mrs. Kennedy,” he replied professionally.

“You are running down my thigh, I hope you’re proud.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” he smiled.

“Next time, bring a friend, I think I’m ready,” she told him.

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Kennedy, I will get right on that.”

“You do that, and shampoo this rug tonight, smells like what I suppose a whore house smells. And enjoy those panties, I bet they smell divine,” she added as she walked to the house, leaving him stunned.

“A BBC slut is born,” he said to himself.