Lena slammed the door on her old life the day the papers were signed. Thirty-eight, fit from years of yoga, and tired of her limp-dick ex who never knew how to use what little he had. She hit the bar downtown that same night, short black dress hugging her curves, no panties underneath, ready for something real.
She spotted him right away. Marcus. Tall, broad shoulders, dark skin that gleamed under the lights, and the kind of confident smile that said he knew exactly what women wanted. They locked eyes. Ten minutes later his hand was on her thigh, fingers sliding higher while he whispered how wet he could already smell her.
They barely made it to his place. The second the door shut, Marcus pushed her against the wall and yanked her dress up. "Fuck, look at that shaved white pussy," he growled, dropping to his knees. His tongue dragged through her folds, thick and hot, licking her like he owned her. Lena moaned loud, grabbing his head as two of his fingers pushed inside her, stretching her open fast.
She came on his tongue in under a minute, legs shaking, juices dripping down his chin. "Get that cock out," she begged, voice raw. Marcus stood, unzipped, and pulled out the thickest, longest dick she'd ever seen. Veiny, dark, and already leaking. She dropped to her knees and wrapped both hands around it, sucking the head like a starving slut. He tasted salty and masculine. She gagged trying to take more, spit running down his shaft while he fucked her mouth slow and deep.
Marcus pulled her up, bent her over the couch, and slammed into her in one thrust. Lena screamed. The stretch burned so good. His heavy balls slapped her clit with every stroke. "Take that black cock, divorcee," he grunted, pounding her harder. "This pussy's mine now." She pushed back, meeting every thrust, tits swinging, pussy creaming all over his thick shaft.
They moved to the bedroom. He flipped her onto her back, legs over his shoulders, and drilled her deep. The wet sounds of her cunt taking him filled the room. Lena came again, clenching hard around him, squirting a little when he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Marcus didn't stop. He flipped her onto all fours, spread her ass, and drove back in. "Gonna fill this married pussy," he snarled, though she wasn't married anymore. That only made it hotter.
He came with a roar, flooding her with hot, thick loads that leaked out around his cock. But he stayed hard. Round two had her riding him, grinding her clit on his pelvis while she bounced on that massive dick. She told him how her ex never made her feel this used, this full. Marcus slapped her ass and told her she was a black-cock slut now. She agreed, begging for more.
By the third round she was on her back again, knees to her chest, taking every inch while he choked her lightly and called her his white fucktoy. She came so hard she saw stars, pussy pulsing and milking him until he pumped another load deep inside.
They lay there panting, his cum dripping from her well-fucked hole. Lena smiled, satisfied and sore in the best way. No more pretending. She was divorced, free, and already craving her next taste of black cock. Marcus pulled her close and said the night wasn't over yet. She spread her legs again without a word.
