Erotic Stories and True Confessions


I Watched My Wife Fuck A Black Man
Now she wants to do it again. - By Walt

I finished my third beer and rubbed my eyes. I was a little p.o.'d with myself that I hadn't been able to figure out what to do. This whole mess was really beginning to bug the crap out of me. A couple hours and a couple beers and I could usually nail just about any problem I ever had. But damn ! I didn't know what to do about this one. And the worst part of it was that I'd caused the entire thing myself. Pandora's box was open and I couldn't get it shut again.

Jean and I have been married a couple of years now. Second try for both of us. She's a totally amazing woman. My first marriage ended when I caught my wife in bed with my boss - I swore after that, I'd never be able to trust another woman enough to love her. Jean changed my mind. She opened my heart up and made me care about her. She'd been hurt, too - she caught her husband in bed with a friend of hers. How's that for low-down ?

Our sex life was incredible. We made love nearly every night. She's got wonderful round curves. I loved touching her and making her cum. But after awhile, I realized I had this fantasy I just couldn't ignore any longer . . . I wanted to watch her do the dirty with another guy. More precisely, I wanted to watch a big black cock disappear into her cunt over and over again. Just the thought if it gave me a boner the size of a Louisville Slugger.

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One night we were laying in bed drinking wine, fooling around and watching a porn flick - a handsome, well-muscled black policeman stopped a bottle blonde slut in a speeding red convertible and demanded a blow job in lieu of giving her a ticket. Of course she willingly complied. The bottle blonde looked a lot like Jean. I couldn't help myself - I blurted out my fantasy to her and asked if she might be interested in helping me make it come true. She freaked out; it seems like her first husband had really wanted to try swinging and swapping, and she hadn't been into it. He kept pushing her to try these things "to make him happy", he said - but she kept refusing. Finally, he just struck out on his own - ending up screwing around with a good friend of hers. She let me know in no uncertain terms that she wanted absolutely no part of such shenanigans.

OK - I admit it - I was relentless. I really wanted this to happen, and I mentioned it to her at least once daily. I could see the whole scenario playing out in my head - at least a million different ways. It made my dick hard as a rock to envision my gorgeous wife getting slammed by a big black man. So I didn't let up. I begged her to let it happen.

In those days, we'd been having a little cash flow problem, to put it bluntly. We decided to cut back on everything that wasn't a necessity. If we were careful, in a few months, we'd have it all under control and could resume a normal life again. Her birthday came - and so did she - over and over. In addition to plenty of sex - just the way she liked it - I was her adoring slave, pampering her with a pedicure and a bubblebath and a romantic candlelit, cooked-by-me dinner. She loved it.

My birthday was the week after hers. When I came home from work, she met me at the door - naked. And laughing and dancing, she'd pulled me inside by my tie. She took my briefcase and danced me over to the computer. She sat down and pulled up a few websites and told me to look through them and choose someone I'd like to see have sex with her. I thought she was joking. But then she told me this was the coolest birthday present she could think of - and the best thing was that it wouldn't cost her a penny.

It was an excellent birthday - probably the best one of my life. We spent the next few hours alternately looking at the webpages, having some of the most incredible sex we'd had in ages, and trying to choose which attractive black stranger would soon be rolling around in the sack with her. I had a constant hard-on. She decided after awhile that her favorite was a massive black man named Andre. He was extremely well-built, had a completely shaved head and was covered with tattoos.

We sent him an email, including a photo of Jean (a naked one) - and he answered almost immediately saying he was definitely interested. He included a photograph of his enormously fat cock. He also said he hoped we were available to meet the next night because he was going to be going out of town for the next week or so. I think Jean was hoping to have a little more time to wrap her head around the idea - but I reminded her it was my birthday present, and she agreed.

He arrived a little early, bringing with him a couple bottles of mid-priced champagne (which was a nice touch, I thought) He didn't waste any time; I noticed how he grabbed Jean's ass when he kissed her hello. I also noticed how she pushed herself into him - a little too eagerly, in my opinion. . .

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But we popped the cork on one of the bottles of champagne and took it upstairs to the bedroom with us. The deal was that I'd sit in an armchair in the corner of the room and watch - just watch - as Andre porked my wife. Jean put on some of the music from her belly-dancing classes. She danced over to Andre and started slowly and sensuosly undressing him. I felt my pecker rising. When he was totally naked, she eased him down on our bed on his back and slowly did a strip tease for him. It wasn't long before his big fat dick was standing at attention, too.

My naked wife sashayed over to the bed and climbed up on it. When she leaned over and wrapped her lips around his big black cock, I shot my wad for the first time that night. She feasted on his cock for quite awhile.

She was sucking greedily. Andre was laying back with his eyes shut, just enjoying Jean's lips and tongue working on his penis. I sat there, drinking champagne and watched. I felt my dick getting hard again. When Andre abruptly pulled his cock out of her mouth and blew a wad in my surprised wife's face, I shot again, too.

Then he sat up and we all had another glass of champagne. He told her he thought she'd probably been a really bad girl and needed a little spanking to straighten her out. She giggled. He pulled her across his lap and began reddening her ass. She was squirming, but I could tell she was enjoying it. Jean always appreciated a good spanking. When her pussy was good and wet, he rolled her off his lap onto her back. He spread her legs open and shoved his incredibly thick dick up her cunt. I could tell by the way she moaned that she was nearly ready to cum. She threw her legs around him and was fucking him hard and mashing her clit against him when she came intensely, breathing loudly and screaming his name. But he didn't stop fucking her - in fact, he began fucking her faster and harder. She came again before I saw the muscles of his ass tighten and his back arch. I could tell he was squirting her cunt full of cum.

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A few minutes later, he hopped up and grabbed his clothes and said he had to hit the road. He said he needed to get up early the next morning because he had to get ready to leave town. He thanked us both for a fine evening and left Jean laying there - totally spent - with her legs spread wide open. What a sight ! I couldn't help myself. I finished my glass of champagne and crossed the room to the bed. I climbed up and put my face between her legs and began to lick the cum - his mixed with hers - from her cream-filled cunt until we both came again. We both fell asleep when I was through and woke the next morning in pretty much the same position with the smell of their cum mixed and smeared across my face.

I was a pretty happy guy that day - until I got home that night and Jean told me she hoped I'd enjoyed my birthday as much as she had. Then she told me she couldn't stop thinking about Andre. She was as happy as a schoolgirl when she received an email from him that evening saying what a good time he'd had with her the night before - and how he hoped they could play again when he got back to town. She agreed to it without even asking me - saying she thought it'd be ok with me since it had been my idea. It looks like he'll be here again tomorrow night.

So . . . here I sit, nursing my beer and wondering what the hell to do about this thing I started and can't seem to stop . . .

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