Amara Kane

For several days you kept coming back to the strange online ad: “Extreme Sex Salon of Black Amara.” In the end curiosity won. You got in your car and drove.

The salon turned out to be in an industrial part of the city. From the outside it looked like an ordinary single-story building with tinted windows and a small black sign without any extra words. Only a modest plaque by the door.

You step inside. The reception area is almost empty: dark walls, a leather sofa, dim lighting. No one is there. You walk up to the counter and press the small bell.

A few seconds later the inner door opens and she comes out.

Amara is tall — nearly two meters — with a powerful, muscular build, broad shoulders and strong hips. She has short black curly hair, dark skin and full lips. She is wearing a black-and-emerald latex corset that tightly cinches her waist and lifts her large breasts. A short flared latex skirt of the same colors barely covers her hips. Black leather straps with a waist belt sit on her thighs, like a garter harness. On her hands are long black gloves reaching to the elbows. On her feet she wears black-and-emerald high-heeled shoes with open toes and delicate cut-out details that cover the ankles.

She stops a couple of steps away from you, slowly looks you up and down, and gives a slight smile.

“Well, well… my little pet. Did you come here because you wanted to sit on my huge black cock?”