As the clock ticked its steady relentless way to 3 in the morning I tossed and turned another few times in our large bed.
I glanced again at the clock and saw that just two minutes had passed since my last look.
No point in asking myself where she was – I knew exactly where she was and who she was with.
I had arranged it after all. And now I had some serious doubts and angst as I lay there, alone.
Earlier I had been full of bravado, lust and vigour as I had watched her prepare her body and clothes for her date. The date I had arranged. The date she had agreed to at my insistence and had pleaded with me not to pursue and eventually had bowed to my relentless pressure for her to date another guy; someone known to both of us. Not a friend, but a work colleague of hers. A guy who had pursued her for a while as I had discovered only recently and the guy she had chosen once I had convinced her to go ahead.
It started many years before whilst my bedroom sex talk had almost always been around her taking other lovers, having boyfriends and sharing herself with a select few, lucky, horny and always well hung guys. Well hung black guys.
Throughout our marriage it had been a recurring fantasy and theme of mine for her to abandon herself to lust and desire and do whatever she felt and to take a lover and allow him the pleasures I experienced with her. I described her practicing her perfect wanking technique just so she could give her boyfriend the perfect wank – at my expense. I reveled in the thought of the angst and pain I would feel knowing that my dear wife was stroking a large black cock to orgasm and that the lucky guy was receiving the pleasure of my darling wife who had perfected her stroke on me. Don’t ask me to explain the reasons behind these thoughts – I couldn't’t begin to explore or explain them- perhaps any psychologists reading this might care to comment via my contact details.
Suffice to say that over the many years of our marriage this and more lurid tales were exchanged between us but always instigated by me. Never once did she initiate fantasy talk or role play into our sex or lovemaking. I accepted that this was her way and that she felt uncomfortable both initiating and in even continuing stories during sex. She did however respond positively to much of the talk and became noticeably wetter and more turned on during many of the sessions. Clearly, I surmised she was enjoying the dirty talk and was using it to help her to orgasm on many occasions.
The change came one night when I didn't’t initiate any fantasy into our caressing and mutual masturbation. We had, much to my enjoyment and surprise been able to watch adult movies and some porn, that of the higher quality, plot-based type which she seemed more satisfied watching. I tried to obtain movies where there were interracial scenes involving white women, married preferably and black men.
So, whilst watching a film in bed one evening whilst I fondled Alison’s tits and stroked her between her legs and she gently wanked my lubricated cock, she turned to me and asked if I was imagining her in the movie. At that moment in time there was a mature woman slowly undressing a much younger black guy whose hands were cupping the woman’s ample breasts. Whist she didn't’t look exactly like my wife there was certainly a similarity in their age, boob size and general curviness. And yes, as always, I was thinking of my wife in just that situation.
“Of course,” I replied.
When she uttered the words “So am I,” my heart missed a beat and my cock and loins lurched in her hand.
I turned to look at her and she was smiling at me. She continued stroking my now bursting erection and I slipped my hand back between her splayed legs. When I felt her shaved, smooth pussy she was absolutely soaked. I slipped two fingers into her and gently stroked in and out. I was almost coming and it was all a result of those three words, “so am I.”
“Fuck, Alison”, I moaned. “Just imagine you being with that guy and him holding your lovely tits in his big black hands”
“I’d love to seduce him,” she murmured. “He looks sooooo sexy and fit and I would like to teach him a lesson or two” she continued. I was stunned. This was completely out of the blue. Extremely welcome, but so new and unexpected. “It’s a pity he isn’t here right now then, “ I ventured. “Perhaps I could get in touch with him for you?” I continued. “Would you like that?”
I wasn’t sure if her next words were part of the fantasy she had entered into or more but, she replied “How would you find him?”
“Not sure I could,” I said “but I’m sure I could find someone as hot for you. After all, what sex hungry red blooded man wouldn't’t jump at the chance to take you to bed?” I teased.
“You think so?” she cooed back at me. “Christ, Alison I can just imagine his feeling of hitting the jackpot a young black guy would get if, he thought he had a chance of bedding a gorgeous, married, slightly older white woman, like you.”
“Oooh you make it sound so hot when you put it like that darling” she breathed into my ear. “Do you think that’s why Joel from work seems to follow me around and fawns all over me then?”
“Does he?” I quizzed. “God yes, all the other girls make fun of him and tease all the time. Marcia reckons he is in love with me and fantasies over me at nights.”
“And what do you think?” I asked her, my poor cock at the point of losing control during this sexy talk and continued stroking.
“I’m old enough to be his mother.”
“You just don’t get it do you sweetheart – that’s the fatal attraction for younger guys. An experienced, motherly, sexy, mature, curvy woman is every young guy’s fantasy. Add to the mix the fact that he is black and has the ultimate dream of screwing a white, sexy mature, experienced woman and you get close. If she is married, and married to a white guy then the thought of sinking into her white married pussy is the ultimate for them. It is the ultimate turn on for a young black guy.”
“Jesus, I had no idea,” she uttered, genuinely enlightened.
“Think about it honey. It’s the same as a white woman’s deepest fantasy of being taken by a well endowed black. Deep, deep down it lurks in every woman. It’s the “What would it be like, sixty four thousand dollar, carnal question.”
“Therefore, if you get the situation of a mature, married, white woman in the company of a young, hung black guy you can expect fireworks in the lust departments.”
Since that conversation a couple of months ago things pretty much returned to normal until one night over dinner when Alison asked me if I remembered the conversation “that night in bed.”
Clearly referring to Joel, I told her of course I did and that I had thought a lot about it since then.
“So have I,” she replied, much to my surprise.
“What if we discussed it with Joel?” she then asked me.
“Discussed what?” I returned.
“Him fucking me.”
“Holy shit Alison”
“Don’t you want him to?”
“Do you want him to?”
“Actually Steve I think I do, I really think I do. But only if you want me to and you really want him to. Do you?”
“I think I do, I just never had the need to have to answer for real before. Up until now it’s been a fantasy and given your reluctance to discuss it in the past I never expected to be having to answer the question for real.”
“Well could you let me know by next Friday please?”
“Why next Friday?”
“Because Joel has asked me on a date.”
“Yes, a date. You do remember those don’t you Steve?”
“Joel has asked you out on a date? Barely eight weeks ago Joel would scarcely say boo to a goose and now he is asking married women out on dates! How did this come about?”
“Are we a little jealous Steve?”
“No I’m just taken aback by the speed and the change of things.”
“Nothing has changed that much honey. Nothing has happened. Yet.”
“If nothing has happened then how come I am being asked if I want to let my wife and a young black man fuck each other?”
“Maybe, because you have actually been asking about it for ages, Steve? All those years asking me if I would like to feel a big black cock in me, what would I like to do with him, how would I like it if you helped me spread my legs for another man to enjoy me? Well, all that’s happened Steve is that I have been thinking seriously about all of those things over a long period of time and I came to realise that if you obviously wanted it to happen so much then I might just as well experience what exactly it is you have envisioned all these years, what it might actually be like” I talked it over with a couple of my friends at work Steve and they were sure that I should go for it."
“You talked it over with some friends?” I said, stunned “What exactly did you tell them for goodness sake?”
“I told them we we’re thinking of an open relationship and that we had agreed that Joel would make a perfect choice – given that they already knew he fancied me and that I had taken a bit of a shine to him too it seemed the ideal way of protecting what we had discussed.” Alison continued, “One of the girls in Finance had dated Joel a while back and he is apparently not a shy as he likes to make out. She had told some of the girls at the time that he was just too big for her and had been a little too eager to get his big cock inside her. The girls don’t think I would have such a problem being a bit older and more experienced. Plus, as they put it, I would be properly prepared for him seeing as I would obviously be looking for him to get such a big cock into me.”
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn't’t I be for Christ’s sake? You want it, I want it and from what you say Joel as sure as hell wants it, so what’s the problem?”
“It’s not a problem honey, just sudden and I wasn’t prepared for this conversation, that’s all.”
“Good, then let me know soon as I will need to let Joel know and I’ll need a few items if I am going out on a date.”
“Something new to wear, get my hair done and of course some new lingerie for Joel and I’d like you to help me choose them please....”
Alison spotted my thumping erection immediately. Despite my shock and initial alarm at the developments, I was as hard as a rock.
“Do I really have to wait for an answer Steve?”
It was now almost 3.30 in the morning and Alison still had not returned home. She had left at 7.30 the previous evening and had promised to call me at some point and let me know how things were going. I was going off my head now with a mixture of concerns for her welfare, annoyance and utter lust. Why had she not called; what was she up to right now; was she safe; was she at that moment lying in her new boyfriend’s arms; had she gone through with her desire to allow Joel to fuck her?
I was hard again and the mix of emotions was difficult to comprehend. Here was the very scenario I had fantasized and wanked over a thousand times, actually playing out for real and I couldn't’t establish whether I was happy or sad. Or both? Or neither?
Earlier that week I had gone with Alison to her favourite store to purchase new items for her to wear. I had walked around the store for about an hour with a raging hard on, knowing that we were selecting clothes and lingerie for her illicit date. “Do you think he will like this dress?” and “should I wear stockings or not?” and “the black set or the blue set?” as she passed me two beautiful pairs of soft silk knickers. “You like the French style knickers don’t you Steve?” she asked. “I wonder if they would turn Joel on?” she quietly mused. Joel won’t last 2 minutes with her in any of these I thought to myself.
She eventually settled on a very modern set. A half cup push up bra and very modern, matching shorts style knickers, silk with lace front and trimmings. The deep pink colours were fabulous and sensual and as I watched her slip into them earlier tonight she looked absolutely stunning in them.
She had bathed and had me bring her a glass of chilled white Chardonnay as she lay in her bubble bath. I sat and watched as she delicately shaved her legs and neat pussy into the slim strip of hair she maintained and was fascinated as she made her pussy and anus completely smooth and hairless. Again, I sat with a raging erection watching my wife prepare herself for a night out without me; knowing it was all for the benefit of a very lucky young black man who, if everything went to plan would savour this delight being prepared for him. I imagined his delight as he felt her for the first time, shaved, slick and wet to his touch.
As Alison completed dressing and applying make up and jewelery she asked me which perfume she ought to wear. I was inclined to suggest either a Chanel or Gucci but before I could speak she asked me which my favourite scent was. Alison knows which scent turns me on the most so I was surprised by her question as she often wear it specifically if we intend to have fun in the bedroom.
“You know I like them all” I replied. Pointing to my favourite I said “That one”
“Perhaps Joel would like it too?” she replied. “I wonder if it will have the same effect on him as it does for you darling?” she purred suggestively. “I hope so” she finished.
I must have fallen asleep and awoke at 07.50 and was immediately aware that Alison was not in our bed. I leapt out and looked in the bathroom; empty. I called her name and listened to see if there was a reply or movement from anywhere in the house, nothing. The guest bedrooms were empty and the house was still. I rushed back to my bedside dresser and checked my mobile for messages. There were two; both from Alison.
The first was timed at 04.26 and said she was fine, heading to Joel’s apartment and had enjoyed a lovely meal and dancing. The second message was timed just a few minutes ago and before I woke up. Her message said that she would not be home until later that day, no time given, and that I should not worry about her as she was being taken care of.
My mind filled immediately of images of them together, dining, and dancing and most likely now being “taken care of” in Joel’s bed. I couldn't’t deny my hard on which immediately sprang up. My faithful, loving wife was out on a date with a black man almost half her age and had not come home yet. I desperately needed to talk to her, to discover what had gone on during their night out. But I couldn't’t call her. She had made me promise not to, as long as she kept in touch.
The agony of knowing she was fine, but knowing she was with him was such a bitter sweet emotion. I was turned on beyond belief and at the same time jealous, concerned for our relationship and worried when she would return. And Alison would know this and was prolonging my agony; and she was right - I loved it.
Around midday a taxi dropped her off at home. I watched her walk up the path and take a long look at the house before she opened the door. I was standing in the hall as she entered and she stepped in and stood looking straight at me. Neither of us said anything.
Her hair was brushed but, pretty untidy by her normal standards. Her make-up had clearly been applied on a previous day and her eyes seemed distant and tired. Her lipstick was gone and her dress was rumpled and she had no nylons on. I could see them poking out of her handbag where they had been hurriedly stuffed, no doubt.
She smiled at me slowly when she saw I had spotted them. “My knickers are in there too” she drawled.
Alison slowly lowered her bag to the floor and walked towards me. Her high heels accentuated her lovely calves and she looked a little like a hooker approaching a potential customer.
“I’m sore and tired honey; would you run me a bath, please?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me about your date?” I enquired.
“Please, run me a bath; let me get decent and I promise I will tell you all about it in bed.”
“OK,” I muttered.
“Unless you want me as I am?” she quizzed, looking deep into my eyes with a crooked smile on her gorgeous face. “As long as you don’t think I’m soiled goods now” she continued.
I took her in my arms and could immediately smell the sex on her. Mingled with her fading, erotic perfume and the heady, exotic, sexy, smell of her and her lover, I reacted to the aphrodisiac now permeating my senses and, as she rubbed my aching cock I could only mutter “the bath can wait.”
To be continued……………
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