He was roughly her height 5ft 6inches. With shoulder length light brown hair; and smiling light brown eyes. But what struck Safia was the sight of his...white legs. She had never seen a man’s legs in her life; well not above the knees, at least. Yet here was this man, calmly sitting on the railings of the patio in a vest and the shortest shorts she had ever seen.His muscular white thighs were exposed right up to the hip, and when he casually raised a leg and rested it on the back of a nearby. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, homo?” His punch landed square with a powerful thud to my chest.We never spoke of it afterward. He knew. I knew. But, the internal back and forth we both seemed to struggle with always landed on the side of invisibility.That football career landed me a full-ride scholarship to a mainstream college. This school was not Catholic. However, the threat of jeopardizing a free higher education over some perceived locker room scandal forced Princess further. She tries to grasp for air as the head of my cock enters her. I pull it back out and rub it a little on her clit. I can see the anticipation in her eyes as she waits for me. I decide to end her punishment by thrusting as hard and as deep as I can. Once again I find myself waiting at her depths to adjust to her tightness. Even though her pussy is wet I can feel myself struggling as I thrust slowly in and out of her. She adjusts more and more to my size and the trusting becomes easier. As soon. It was about 5cm long and very visible. I was shocked as this was an internationally recognised symbol in swinging that meant she was black cock friendly. I had nothing against her playing with black cocks but not this permanent mark. She said Cuckman had joined her at the parlour and paid for it, and enjoyed telling the tattooist that this was a reminder of her first black cock that she had fucked a week ago.  We went back to the ‘normal’ life of just cuckman at weekends for the next month..