Jamail started reading the story to her, to her pussy to be more exact, his breath warming her pussy lips with each word. Unfortunately, two pages in, he realized the story was much too long. Still resting his head on her pale thigh, he rolled the story into a tight cylinder and worked a condom down the length of it.
He always thought his stories might land him between her legs, just never imagined he'd use an actual story there. Oddly he could still see the words through the latex, smudged words, the ink bleeding in the greasy lubricant. "I never could get it right rolling these things on," he said.
"What, what was that," she replied, waking up for a moment. "It's a nice story," she continued, looking down at him before flopping her head back onto the pillow.
He watched as the word 'fuck' blurred into an odd blackness. Hearing her breathing deepen as she slipped back to sleep he grabbed a tube and poured the slippery liquid onto his story-cock. Gazing at her sensuous folds he couldn't know what she began to dream:
The man's large, black hands held her breasts, squeezing her, his palms pressing her nipples as they pressed out to him. She opened her eyes seeing the deep impressions his fingers made in her soft, white flesh. Her breasts ached from his rough hands and she wondered if it was a mistake to lure him into her bedroom.
Hands moved down from her breasts to her thighs, forcefully opening her legs. She had her answer as she reached down to guide him. Feeling his enormity she glancing down she gasped. His cock didn't curve like the men she'd seen, no, it stood straight out, so thick her fingers could barely wrap around it.
She reached one hand to her pussy to open it while her other hand led his throbbing cock to her. She wondered if he... pain shot though her as she felt him shove into her. He quickly withdrew and pressed again as she stifled a scream, biting her lip and moaning instead. Suddenly filled with him she felt tears running down her cheeks.
