Once Annette was heavy with a k**, one of the band’s, who knows which, Wesley would abandon her. It was the norm. She was used, fini. That was what ... white bitch was for.I started to suck his cock. It was easy. It was so much bigger, so much harder and so proud compared with mine. Crazed, in my head, without a tab of shit smoked, I hoped that the k** would be his. Yeah….I said that. I hoped that the k** would be his! I imagined that master mamba squirting the spunk inside Annette, the thick goo. "There's always next season." That's what I hoped you'd say," Marcos said. He patted my shoulder and gave me a wink. I used to love that wink when Marcos and I had first started dating. He's a very handsome black man with amazing taste in clothes, food, and music, but he's also very forgetful of birthdays, special occasions, and important dates with girlfriends. It's not that he didn't care about me, he just didn't care about me more than he cared about work. To Marcos, his best girl will. More oil was gathered and pressed into my anus by that finger rubbing it gently but firmly until I felt slick and open. I tried to hold still, even when I could feel it deep inside of me, plunging and wriggling where I had never allowed another to go. But it was almost impossible. My muscles squeezed, trying to repel this invader, my hips jerked and tried to pull away. As punishment, I received another hard slap to my bottom.It was a relief and sheer torture when I heard that male voice again. So it was with sweaty palms and a tremulous smile that she parted the flaps on the tent he’d given up for her. He followed her inside, his warm breath on her neck giving her goosebumps. The last light of dusk was fading, so the shadowy interior of the tent was difficult to see. She sighed; she’d have preferred to have more light, not only to allow her to admire his lean, archer’s body, but also to be able to watch his face for reactions – to her, to what they were doing – and any indication how.