“Cheers to what I overcame…
not who I left behind.”

(Smiles, amused at the elegance of it.)

A housewarming.
And a rumor retirement gala.

Not really a comeback —
more like a coronation wearing better shoes
and living at a better address.

After a year of stepping back —
rebuilding, evolving, sharpening —
I became someone even whispers couldn’t reach.
I’m ready to open the doors again,
and let the world see what growth looks like
when it isn’t done for show —
but for self.

To the loyal — you never lost your place.
To the curious — come closer, the view’s better from the front.
And to the ones who watched, whispered,
and took bets on the fall —
I saved you a seat.
Because victory tastes better
when the room remembers you.

I evolved. They gossiped.
And now… well —
I think you know
who ended up with the better address.

⸻

Saturday, December 13th
The Hepburn
1901 Connecticut Ave NW — 9PM
Until the night decides to stop.

Dress code?
Opulence without apology.
Dress like you never thought I’d make it —
but I did.

xoxo,
TAYLOR RAY
not the rumor — the revelation.


The sound was grotesque. A wet, gagging choke that should have made me sick. Instead, my cock throbbed in my hand, already slick with pre-cum. I couldn’t look away from my wife.
Nicole’s heel was digging into the rug, her other foot planted firmly on Kirsten’s back, forcing my sweet wife to bend over, presenting her face like a fucking offering. And Kirsten was taking the offering.
“Open wide, you stupid fucking cunt,” Nicole snarled, her voice a low, vicious purr. She shoved the foot-long black dildo forward, its grotesque, veined length glistening with artificial lube and Kirsten’s own spit.
Kirsten gagged, her eyes watering, a thick strand of drool escaping her stretched lips and dripping onto the rug. Oh god, her lips. Stretched so wide around that monstrous fake cock.
“Look at her,” Nicole said, not to Kirsten, but to me. Her eyes locked with mine, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “Look at your pretty fucking wife. My god, she was born for this, wasn’t she? Born to be a fuck pig for nigger bulls. This is what her pretty little mouth is really for. Not for smiling at your boring-ass friends at dinner parties. It’s for choking on black cock. Real black cock. This toy is just a fucking placeholder, a training tool for the real Mandingo dick she’s gonna suck dry someday.”
She thrust the dildo deeper. Kirsten’s body convulsed, a desperate, gurgling moan escaping her throat. Her hands were clenched into fists on the floor, but she wasn’t pushing away. She was taking it. Her hips were making little circles against the empty air, her own desperate need betraying her.
“You see that, you fucking pervert?” Nicole laughed, a harsh, beautiful sound. “She loves it. She’s getting off on choking on this big black rubber cock. She’s imagining it’s real. Imagining it’s splitting her throat open, fucking her face like the dumb bitch she is.”
My hand was a blur on my own cock, stroking hard and fast. Fuck. Fuck. The sight was the most depraved, hottest thing I had ever seen. My pristine wife, my Kirsten, being reduced to a slobbering, cock-hungry animal.
“Yeah, beat your meat, you faggot,” Nicole spat, her words hitting me like a physical blow, fueling my fucked-up arousal. “Beat your big fat cock while you watch a real woman handle a real man’s equipment. You can’t satisfy this cunt. You never could. She needs a bull. She needs to be stretched, and filled, and used. She needs to be called a nigger’s bitch while she gets her ass pounded raw.”
She pulled the dildo out with a slick, popping sound. Kirsten gasped for air, her tits heaving, spit coating her chin and neck. Her eyes were glazed over, pure lust.
“You want it back, you filthy pig?” Nicole taunted her, slapping the side of the dildo against Kirsten’s flushed cheek. “Beg for it. Beg for your nigger cock.”
“Please,” Kirsten whimpered, her voice hoarse from the abuse. “Please, Nicole. Give it to me. I need it. Shove it down my throat. Fuck my face.”
“Louder, cunt! Let your faggot husband hear what a whore you are!”
“Fuck my face!” Kirsten screamed, the words torn from her very core. “I’m a stupid slut for big nigger donkey dick! I’m your fuck pig! Please, let me suck it! I need to choke on it!”
Nicole grinned at me, a vision of wicked triumph, and shoved the dildo back into Kirsten’s waiting, pleading mouth. This time, she went deeper, hilting the entire terrifying length down my wife’s throat. Kirsten’s body went rigid, then relaxed, accepting the entire thing, her nose buried in the fake balls at the base.
The gagging was constant now, a rhythmic, wet noise that was the only sound in the room besides my own frantic breathing and the sound of my hand working my shaft. I was close. So fucking close.
“Look at her throat bulge,” Nicole whispered, her voice dropping to an intimate, filthy level meant just for me. She traced a finger along Kirsten’s neck, feeling the outline of the intruder. “She’s taking every fucking inch. This dumb cunt was built for this. She’s not your wife right now. She’s just a set of holes. A warm, wet hole for a big black monkey dick to fuck. And you’re just a pervert getting off on it. A pathetic cuck watching his woman become a nigger’s lily white whore.”
She started to move the dildo, not just holding it there, but fucking Kirsten’s throat with it. Short, brutal jabs that made Kirsten’s eyes roll back in her head. Spit flew everywhere, coating Nicole’s hand, Kirsten’s tits, the floor.
“You gonna cum, you little bitch?” Nicole asked me, her eyes boring into mine. “You gonna blow your load all over yourself while I face-fuck your wife with a black dick? Do it. Cum for me. Cum for this disgusting skank. Show me how much of a sick fuck you are.”
That was all it took. My orgasm ripped through me, a violent, shameful wave of pleasure. I groaned, my body tensing as massive ropes of cum shot from my dick onto the floor, my stomach, my hand.
Nicole laughed. She left the dildo buried in Kirsten’s throat, stood over her and pissed all over her.

So you attended The European Filmcollege in Ebeltoft back in 2011?

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