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.