“Oh my fucking God. Paul, you’ve got to see this.”

I looked through the arch from the kitchen to the living room to see what had caught Sarah’s eye. 

She was leaning well back on the sofa. Her mini skirt had ridden up around her hips to give a glimpse of light blue panties.

Her hands were up her crop top, and I could tell she was twisting her nipples in the way she loved to do.

I leaned further forward to see what she was watching. It was the Olympics, the build-up to the men’s 100 metres final.

I wandered through, a swelling already building in my balls.

“I mean seriously? Can that even be real?”

I looked at the screen. The camera had zoomed in on one of the sprinters.

It was startlingly obvious what Sarah was referring to.

“I mean, it literally looks like he has an aubergine in there,” she continued, and she was right; it did. 

My mouth was dry; I swallowed hard, unable to reply. He wore a skin-tight green spandex bodysuit through which, lying sideways and pointing slightly upwards, the outline of his giant penis was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the length of it; the girth was quite astonishing.

"Wow", my voice was just a little whisper.

The camera panned across to the next lane, and Sarah yelped in delight. This guy wore the red of Ghana, and he’d stowed his enormous organ down the left leg of his suit.

“Fuck me, Paul! Is that one even bigger? And look. You can see the outline of his, you know, what do you call that end bit?”

She was right again; at the end of what must have been a good 8 inches of his shaft, the outline of his bulbous cockhead was clear as day, bulging through the thin material.

“His glans, babe, or some people say the helmet. And I must say he does seem to have a large one.

“Large one? Fuck me, it’s huge. I doubt I could even get that in my mouth.”

The image of my once-demure beloved stretching her pretty mouth around that Black man’s giant crown made my erection rise up with a volcanic intensity.

The picture zoomed out to show the entire field of eight. Their bodysuits were in a range of vivid colours, but their skin tones were always shades of black.

The camera zoomed in once more, this time focused on a very dark-skinned guy who wore a pale yellow unitard that was pretty much completely see-through. At least he'd had the decency to wear a jockstrap, and his cock and balls were coiled into a massive bulging package.

He turned to walk back the blocks. His outfit had a rear seam that had pulled deep into his butt cleft, defining and accentuating the two round orbs of muscle that were straining the material. 

“That is the most beautiful bottom I’ve ever seen." Sarah’s voice was soft, her tone was that of reverence. 

“Er, Paul?”

"Mmmm?" I mumbled my reply, my eyes glued to the man's large buttocks as they moved from side to side in perfect rhythm with his stride. 

She didn’t answer.

Eventually, I managed to drag my gaze away from the screen to see what it was she wanted.

“Yes babe?”

She was looking at my crotch. “Would you care to explain that?”

I wore loose white nylon basketball shorts with nothing underneath. I looked down and saw that they were tented. 

“Well, er, I…”

“No, in fact, don’t bother trying; let me do it for you. You’re horny ogling all these horse-hung Black kings, and you’re imagining them nude,” she paused. “Just like I am."

“You’re dreaming of being on your knees, going from one to another, sucking on their big Black cocks. Just like I am.”

"Sarah…” My protest was half-hearted.

“Imagine us in the locker room together, babe, as they all strip off those skin-tight suits to reveal themselves in all their glory.”

I didn’t dare confess that I already had that vivid picture painted in my mind. 

She leaned forward and yanked down my shorts, and my rock-hard cock sprang free.

“Well, well, well! What have we got here?”

Sarah wrapped her hand around my shaft.

“You’re harder than you’ve ever been, Paul. Why didn’t you tell me that you’re bi?”

“No, well, er… it's not like that, babe.”

“It is like that, Paul. Don’t be so silly. Come on now, what’s the bigger turn-on for you?”

“Sorry?”

Which will make you more horny? You sucking one of those thick, hard 10-inch cocks,” she paused for a second to study my face, “or watching one of them stretch out my white girl pussy?”

“Sarah!”

“It’s the latter, isn't it? You’re a cockhold? Is that what they call it?”

“Cuckold.”

"Oh, so you know the right word. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

She released my cock and sat back on the sofa with her legs splayed wide apart and started to trace circles round her clitty with her fingers through her thong. 

“One of those guys who enjoys watching his wife have sex with hung Black kings. Is that you, babe?”

“Babe…”

“And then clean up my pussy after?”

"Hun…"

“And then clean his cock? Suck all the juices from his massive glans.”

My penis was now bouncing gently up and down, harder than ever before. I couldn’t say a word.

“Get down here; I’m fucking molten." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers and, in one well-practised movement, pulled them down and kicked them off.

Her bare mound was glistening, almost dripping with her juices. As I knelt between her thighs, I took a moment to admire the perfection of her pussy before she wrapped her legs around my neck and pulled me in to eat her cunt. 

As I swirled my tongue around her hard, pink bean, she described the athletes in great detail, tormenting me with her shameless admiration of their superb physiques and massive cocks, and with my mouth full of her liquid sweetness, I could do nothing but grunt and splutter as my penis bounced against my belly with a hitherto unknown ferocity.

When I felt her start to quiver, and her words had turned to gasps and moans, I knew that she was close.

My head came up, my hips thrust forward, and I went to bury myself in her fleshy furnace.

Suddenly, she pushed out her hand to hold me back.

"No, Paul, I’m not going to let you fuck me.”

My cockhead was against her outer lips, and my entire body was shaking with desire. It was all I could do not to ignore her words and take her without consent. 

“What?”

“Not until you make a promise.”

“A what?”

“I’m not going to let you fuck me until you make a promise.”

"Yes, babe, anything." I could feel my orgasm building even though I wasn’t yet inside her.

“Promise me that tomorrow we’ll share a BBC.”

“A what?"

Sarah put her hands on my hips. 

“A big. Black." A second’s pause between each word. “Cock.”

She tilted her hips so that her cunt lips kissed my bellend.

“Oh Sarah.”

I looked into her eyes, then down at my swollen cockhead and her dripping wet vagina. 

I tried to push into her folds, but she held my hips to stop me.

“Prom-ise?” Her singsong voice was a teasing and with a cry of tortured anguish, I screamed out the words that would change my life forever. 

“I promise. I promise that tomorrow you’ll be fucked into oblivion by a well-endowed Black stallion and I’ll clean his juices after.”

She pulled me roughly into her. Mine was certainly no aubergine, but it had never felt bigger or harder; the 5” curving shaft was topped by a mushroom-headed crown which I hammered into Sarah’s G-spot with well-practiced precision. Within a dozen frantic strokes we both exploded in a massive mutual orgasm.

As our ecstasy subsided, she held my gaze. There was a wicked glint of mischief in her eyes, but surely she’d been only joking about a bisexual interracial threesome? 

“Paul, that was fucking hot.”

My now limp penis slipped out of her flooded cunt. My mouth was dry; I couldn’t speak.

“Roll on tomorrow.”

The following evening 

Sixty-nine was a position that we both adored. Sarah’s sweet pussy right there in my face as she took my whole penis deep in her mouth.

But tonight there was one big difference; one very big difference. 

Our new friend Rolston was kneeling behind her, one plump buttock in each of his hands.

I watched from below as he withdrew his gargantuan Black column until I could see the coronal ridge of his bulbous cockhead before he slammed it all back into her, sending splashes of her wetness down into my face.

My tongue swirled her clitty; his balls swung into my eyes.

Sarah was starting to quiver and tremble.

Rolston was thrusting with wild ferocity. 

My balls were coming to a boiling point.

We were all going to cum together in an explosion of ecstasy.

With our mouths full of each other, Sarah and I could only gurgle and grunt as our orgasms exploded, but Rolston let forth a triumphant roar as he unleashed the first jet of his semen right into Sarah’s womb.

After half a dozen frantic thrusts into her deepest recesses to make sure she was truly seeded, he pulled out his Black python and shoved it straight into my mouth. 

Astonished, but suddenly eager to please him, I swirled my toungue around his pulsing glans while gulping down the semen that was still pumping from his tip.

It was with pride and a terrible excitement that I heard Rolston’s deep bass rumble, “Damn, Sarah, this one is a perfect little cucky boy. We gonna enjoy making him our bitch.”