Teri Weigel

Me and my boy, we run a loan racket for broke white dudes the banks won't touch. Today's mark flopped on repaying his debt. Interest was steep and we needed our cash. We dragged him home so he could kiss his mama goodbye before we turned him into dog food. Inside, Teri Weigel tore into him—pissed he crawled to ex-cons who eat soft white boys alive. She dropped to her knees begging for her baby boy, but our empty pockets said fuck his life, somebody gotta pay. Only thing this cougar had worth redeeming was a set of thick titties and that thirsty grin. The second she looked at us like she needed two meaty black cocks, we knew it was game on. She stripped while her son watched, spat on our dicks, and shoved both of them down her throat like a desperate whore. Every time she gagged, we slammed harder. When she bent over the couch, I buried mine first—wet, warm, and deep in the same pussy that birthed her kid. My boy took turns, wrecking it until it was raw, swollen, and bright red. She howled loud enough to shake the walls, screaming and squirming until she whimpered, "Give me that black nut." We glazed her face, ropes dripping off her chin, kid crying in the corner. White folks are twisted as hell.