Mark had never planned on getting fucked by a black cock that night, but the second Jamal's thick dick slapped against his ass he knew there was no turning back. The bar had been loud, the drinks strong, and when Jamal leaned in close and growled, "I can smell how bad your white ass wants this," Mark's dick had jumped in his pants like it was answering for him.
They barely made it to Jamal's apartment before clothes started hitting the floor. Mark's wife was out of town, and the guilt only made his cock harder. Jamal shoved him face-down over the arm of the couch, yanked his jeans down to his knees, and spat right on his hole. "Look at that pretty pink pussy," Jamal said, voice low and filthy. "Bet your wife never stretched it like I'm about to."
Two thick fingers pushed in without warning, twisting and scissoring until Mark was panting and pushing back. "Fuck, you're tight," Jamal muttered, adding a third finger. The burn turned into a deep ache that had Mark's balls drawing up tight. He reached down and stroked his own cock, but Jamal slapped his hand away.
"No touching. You come when this black dick says you do."
The blunt head of Jamal's cock pressed against his hole next. It felt enormous, way bigger than anything Mark had ever taken. Jamal didn't ease in; he drove forward in one long, steady thrust that forced a broken moan out of Mark's throat. The stretch was brutal. Mark's hole clenched and fluttered around the thick shaft, trying to adjust while Jamal bottomed out and held still, balls pressed tight against Mark's ass.
"Goddamn, this white hole is sucking me in," Jamal said, voice rough. He pulled back until just the head remained inside, then slammed forward again. The couch creaked under the force. Mark's forehead pressed into the cushions as Jamal started fucking him in hard, deep strokes that knocked the breath out of him every time.
Sweat slicked Mark's back. Every thrust dragged over his prostate and sent sparks shooting up his spine. His cock leaked steadily onto the couch, untouched. Jamal grabbed his hips hard enough to bruise and picked up the pace, pounding into him with wet, slapping sounds that filled the room. "Take it," Jamal grunted. "Take every inch of this black cock. Your ass was made for it."
Mark's legs shook. He tried to push back to meet the thrusts but Jamal held him pinned, using his body like a toy. The dirty talk kept coming: how tight Mark was, how hungry his hole looked swallowing that dark dick, how much better it was than anything his wife could give him. Each filthy word made Mark's cock twitch and drip more.
Jamal pulled out suddenly, flipped Mark onto his back, and shoved his legs up and apart. The new angle let him drive even deeper. Mark watched the thick shaft disappear into his own stretched hole, the contrast of skin colors obscene and hot. Jamal wrapped a hand around Mark's throat, not squeezing hard, just holding him in place while he fucked him with short, brutal jabs that nailed his prostate every time.
"Gonna breed this married ass," Jamal warned, eyes locked on Mark's face. "You want that load, don't you?" Mark could only nod, mouth open, too far gone to form words. Jamal's rhythm stuttered. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a low groan, cock pulsing thick and hot inside Mark's guts. The feeling of being filled pushed Mark over the edge too. His untouched cock jerked and sprayed cum across his stomach and chest in long, messy ropes.
Jamal stayed inside him until he softened, then pulled out slow. Thick white cum leaked from Mark's red, used hole. Jamal scooped some up with two fingers and pushed it back in. "Keep that in there," he said. "Remind you who owns this ass now."
Mark lay there panting, hole still twitching, already wondering how soon he could get that black cock back inside him again. The guilt would hit later, but right now all he felt was the deep, satisfied ache of being thoroughly fucked. Jamal grinned down at him. "Round two in ten minutes. Don't move."
