What am I doing? I still don’t even know his name. I push him away.“What’s the matter darling?” he tries to kiss me again.“I thought we were...here to clean my clothes.” I whisper.“We are sugar, we are.” Before I know it he pulls my skirt down. “But then you first have to pull them off.”“Okay.” I answer. “So where can I clean them?”“Take a guess.” He says with a strange smile on his face. I walk to the door. But it won’t open. The next moment I realize he locked me up. He never wanted me to clean. I plan to store the excess there. My people will make a delivery every couple weeks to the camp - at least that is what I plan.”“There had been some thought of leaving one of our spare Blackhawks there; it is a central location and could be used from time to time as a maintenance location if we need it,” I replied.I was fishing with a big hook and opening a door. We did have spare Blackhawks; I had bought 45 and only needed 40. His response either now or later would help me understand the scope. Kent continued complimenting my looks and caressing my thighs and breast through my dress and I was melting underneath it.My husband asked Kent where was the restroom and excused himself. With him gone Kent reached around my waist and pulled me toward him and kiss me deeply. I returned the kiss and his hands made their way to my ass where he grabbed both of my cheeks and continued to kiss me while pulling me on top of him. This black god was so powerful and I just wanted him. So, I slipped. He put his hand behind the woman’s head and pulled a bit so that she took his pole deeper into her throat. She had no trouble with that and, after a few more minutes, Grant pushed his hips forward and unleashed a torrent of cum into her mouth. She swallowed and kept sucking, bobbing her head up and down as she continued to use her hand to stroke his long dick, milking out the last few drops of cum. She swallowed again, then smiled up at him as she used her tongue and lips to clean his.