Elizabeth Finally Blacked

elizabeth-finally-blacked-cuckold-story

everyonesavoyeur

We had been doing this for years, my wife and I. Sipping on champagne in the back of Jim’s limousine, on our way to yet another event. This one was a certified black tie affair, cocktails in the early hours and then dinner and awards to follow. A successful career in advertisement has its perks, and a fully compensated evening at a five star resort – I would think – qualifies as one.

These galas never seemed to bother her, that was for certain. Elizabeth looked absolutely gorgeous sitting snugly next to me, her legs crossed sexily in a tight black dress. She was smiling wide amidst a phone conversation with Lindsey, a friend of hers, who was also on her way to the party. At thirty-five years of age you might think a woman would be starting to display signs of weathering, but this certainly wasn’t the case for my wife. Lizzy is a beautiful long haired brunette, curvaceous yet trim, her breasts and ass pop in any outfit she sees fit to wear. She has large natural tits that have maintained an unprecedented amount of perkiness despite their size. Her ass is plump but solid, maintained by a healthy exercise regiment. Reigning atop her feminine curves is a stunningly attractive face, a pale skinned hazel eyed beauty with luscious lips. By day my wife is a teacher at a local elementary school, but on her way into the city for an evening with socialites, she looks more a world class model.

“About fifteen minutes out, folks.” Jim’s voice crackled over the intercom. As I mentioned, my wife and I do this quite often. Four or five times a year my presence is required at an awards ceremony, a speaking event, or simply a holiday party. My company schedules and covers the travel expense, and for whatever reason Jim has been our limo driver for every one, seemingly every one for the last six or seven years. He’s an older gentleman, and has been with his company for the majority of his adult life. He’s tall, black and with a goatee that was beginning to show some strands of gray. His build is lean and somewhat lanky, but hes certainly not an unattractive man. Over the years he had become very comfortable with the two of us – especially Liz. My wife wasn’t especially flirtatious by nature, but for whatever reason she made an exception for Jim.

Her flirtations with him weren’t exactly surprising to be honest. Surviving these nights often called for the consumption of alcohol, lots of it in our case. As a result the drives home were exceedingly carefree, risque even. Couple the lowered inhibitions with my wife’s poorly hidden attraction to black men, her flirtations with Jim were all but unsurprising. Although Liz had never dated or been with a black man before, sexually, I had teased her into an admission over our years together. Whenever she mentioned a celebrity crush it would often be a black man, and when I would catch her leering in public, an admittedly rare occurrence – it was quite usually towards a man with darker complexion. For whatever reason, it didn’t bother me – on some perverse level, I almost found it arousing. It was exciting to know that I married a woman who wasn’t hung up on societal and social norms, a woman who wasn’t afraid of a little so-called taboo.

There had been a couple times when my wife and I had engaged in a bit of naughty fun in the back of Jim’s limousine. On one occasion Liz had massaged my dick through my slacks in a state of drunken arousal. Another time I couldn’t stop fondling her tits, pawing at them while kissing her furiously, eventually reaching into her panties to rub her to a small but shuddering orgasm. Both of these experiences happened in plain sight right here in the back of the limo, and on both occasions, I was nearly certain Jim had been watching. I distinctly recall his knowing smile, almost congratulatory, when we arrived back home. I would always tip him well, especially on those evenings – it never hurt to reinforce someones propensity for discretion.

As the memory faded from mind the limo came to a stop at our venue, and the door closest to Liz opened.

She put the phone in her clutch and shuffled to the edge of the seat, extending her leg to begin to take her first step exiting the back of the limo. Unfortunately as she stepped out her stiletto missed its footing, and she slipped violently. If not for Jim’s quick reflexes, her face would have met the pavement. He caught her by her waist, rescuing us from a ruined evening. As he balanced her I couldn’t help but notice his large hand cradling one of her breasts. Her skirt had hiked up, exposing a portion of her ass. Jim, reactive, grabbed the fabric and effectively shuffled it back down. Once I saw that she was safe on her footing I quickly exited the limo through the other door. Elizabeth’s face was flushed red with embarrassment, but she turned and gave Jim a relieved hug.

“Thanks Jimmy, that was almost really bad.”

“Just glad I caught you in time.” He was smiling, but breathing heavily, sighing in relief.

I walked around the rear of the limo in a hurry, but she was already fully recovered. “You alright?” I asked, rather uselessly. I looked around, a couple onlookers were staring but for the most part people were entering the venue without having noticed the spill.

She nodded, still flushed, and took my arm. She turned one last time to Jim and thanked him again as we headed up the porte cochere towards the hotel entrance.

The evening inside of the hotel started off like so many before it, some intermingling, some drinks, some laughing – most of it harmless. My wife and I were well liked by most people at my company. I don’t have an ultra outgoing personality, which may be an odd thing to hear about a marketing manager, but the caliber of my work was certainly loud enough to speak for itself. Elizabeth, in all her beauty and class, did nothing but help reinforce the image that I liked to portray for our family. It also didn’t hurt that for what I lacked in social energy and exuberance, she made up for with an incredibly attractive personality.

We had nearly finished making our usual cocktail hour rounds, exchanging pleasantries with my secretary and her husband, a number of my close colleagues and their spouses, and my direct boss and his lovely wife. We chatted for awhile before heading to our respective tables for dinner.

“Heyyy you guys!” Lindsey was already seated at our table next to Mike, her husband and one of my close work associates.

“Hey lady!” Elizabeth replied, taking the chair next to her friend. Mike stood, and he and I exchanged an unnecessarily formal handshake. After some more conversation it wasn’t long before the four of us were seated and enjoying a lovely meal. The cocktails and wine flowed in abundance and, seemingly before it started, the presentation was over. The rest of the night was to be casual drinks and dancing – the latter of which I loathed.

“So hows that Tucker job coming along?” Mike asked.

“Not bad, we should have the presentation ready by end of next week, but you know how QC is with that particular client – everything has to be perfect.”

Mike and I had been, as usual, discussing work – we always found it hard to break away from the subject, both of us being natural workaholics. It actually didn’t immediately dawn on us that our wives had already headed to the dance floor. We both looked up in unison to see them laughing and shaking around with wine glasses in hand.

“They didn’t even ask us to join them.” Mike said, somehow surprised.

I gave him a knowing look, “I think by now, they know what the answer would be.” It was kind of an inside joke between the two of us. We both hated dancing, it was admittedly lame of us to not partake, but just something about the activity – I could never let loose and enjoy it. Mike clearly shared in my distaste.

Our wives however, not quite so much. I quickly noticed that they had already made some gentlemanly company. Two larger black men were occupying space behind them, joining in on their fun but from a respectful distance. A notable percentage of the demographic of the guests tonight were black, as it often was. It was a natural byproduct of the fact that many of our larger contracts were for the local Denver professional sports teams, and it was clear that these two men were athletes.

“I think that guy dancing with Lindsey is with Trenton’s group, that son of a bitch hit on her at the last event.” Mike seemed agitated by the realization, but made no move to remedy it. Trenton was a local sports agent, and he often utilized our firms services for branding with some of his biggest clients. I looked at the man dancing with Elizabeth, he was very tall, and built, but I didn’t recognize him. He might have had half a foot on me, at least, myself standing at 5′-10″. I looked on as he grew slightly more brazen, approaching from behind her and resting a hand on her hip. She turned and looked back at him, blushing, but she made no move to remove it. I saw him whisper something in her ear, and they both shared a laugh. He seemed to take that as approval to swoop in even nearer to her backside, grabbing her waist.

My heart quickened at the sight of it, it wasn’t the first time another man had taken the opportunity to dance with her, but his size and complexion seemed to make this particular instance stand out from the others. Elizabeth’s eyes widened as the man seemed to plant his crotch against her ass, cozying up to her body. She looked in my direction with mild worry in her eyes. Her face contorted from worried to relieved when she noticed me smirking in bemusement, instead of flush with anger. I wasn’t particularly jealous, unlike my buddy Mike.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”, he offered, and then stood in a frustrated hurry.

“Alright man, see you in a bit.” I quickly glanced at Lindsey to see her eyes closed, unabashedly enjoying the attention from her dark stranger as he ground himself into her rear. The song selections had recently upped the tempo.

But my gaze quickly returned to my wife, the two of them were now dancing with relative familiarity, and I noticed that the wine glass was somehow no longer in her possession. I felt a strange stirring as this man’s hands roamed my wife’s body. He was unafraid as he grazed her breasts and ass, seemingly mashing his crotch powerfully into her rear. Perverse thoughts crept through my mind, mere thin layers of fabric separated the heat of their bodies. He was essentially rubbing his clothed manhood against my wife, and she made no move to stop him. Suddenly his left hand reached up and made a subtle move to grope one her breasts, squeezing quickly but with confidence. My wife’s eyes closed to his touch, enjoying the sensation.

Elizabeth’s face shaded bright red, face flush, and just as it looked as he would reach up with both hands to really get a hold of her tits, the song ended. She seemed to come to her senses, shuffling her dress back into an appropriate position. The man pulled out his cellphone and exchanged a couple more words with her as she made an attempt to head back to our table. I saw her smile wide, and point to her wedding ring. The look on his face didn’t change though, and he grabbed her arm gently, pulling her back close to his chest. He whispered a couple more sentences to her, smiling wide. My wife’s blush deepened, and she seemed to spit out a few more words in a hurry, her hand lingering on his chest before she turned to leave.

She finally returned to me, beaming, a hint of guilt on her face. I noticed that Lindsey remained on the floor. My wife sat back down next to me, breathing heavily.

“Who’s your friend?” I offered with a wry smile, sipping on my cocktail and pretending to glance at my watch.

“I didn’t catch his name.” she blushed, “But he’s on the practice squad for the Broncos.”

I laughed, “So he didn’t bother to give you his name, but he made sure you knew he played for the Broncos. Got it.” I paused, continuing “You know, that’s the second guy tonight who’s groped your tits, and neither of them have been me… Strange.”

She continued to blush, and took a sip of wine, avoiding my observation with nothing but a playful shrug. “I actually had to give him my number, he wouldn’t take no for an answer babe.”

My jaw fell agape for a moment, but I recovered. “Oh wow! So he groped you and you gave him your number, anything else you want to tell me?”

I immediately realized that we both had too much to drink, again.

She giggled, replying with devilish tone, “I told you, if you keep refusing to dance with me I’m going to keep rewarding the men who do.”

Her brazen flirtations, her carefree nature, it aroused me despite giving my ego a slight bruise. I leaned in and kissed her, feeling no pain from all the cocktails I had consumed. “You ready to get out of here?” I offered.

She smiled, sex in her eyes. “Definitely.”

We both stood to leave, and I made a mental note that Mike hadn’t yet returned. Lindsey was still dancing furiously with her newfound friend. Liz gave her a long distance wave. “Well she seems to be enjoying herself.” I said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Yep. You guys never give us any attention on the dance floor, so who can blame her?” my wife replied, defending her friends honor – and her own in the process.

I couldn’t help but sigh in resignation.

Jim already had the doors open when we found the limo outside, “Evening folks, hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

“Great time Jim, and thanks again for the save earlier.” I replied, realizing I hadn’t thanked him when it happened.

He smiled graciously, gently escorting Elizabeth into the limo, seemingly trying to protect her from another slip and fall. She smiled at him as she took her seat, turning to me once the doors closed. She attacked me with her beautiful lips, kissing me passionately. She didn’t even stop when Jim opened the driver door. I noticed him glance back, momentarily distracted by my wife’s vigor. He quickly averted his eyes however, igniting the engine and pulling out of the venue to start our drive back home.

She eventually came to her senses, pulling away and sitting down front facing, still breathing heavily. The Broncos player had clearly gotten her motor running. After a minute of silence Jim asked about our evening, “Y’all had fun? Anything entertaining happen in there?” He glanced up at us in the rear view mirror as he spoke.

I chuckled, figuring I’d have a bit of fun by causing my wife some mild embarrassment. “Nothing too exciting Jim, just Liz dancing up a storm with every guy in the place.”

She smacked my arm, laughing and giving me a knowing look. “If by every guy he means one guy, and only because he refused to dance with me.”

Jim chuckled and shook his head, it wasn’t the first time he had heard her complaints about my refusals to dance.

“Might has well been even guy, this dude got enough action.” I retorted.

She shrugged, smiling. “Serves you right, maybe next time you’ll dance with me.”

Jim chuckled from up front, “Y’all are too much.”

Elizabeth egged me on, continuing, “He’s a football player Jim, plays for the Broncos. Tall and muscular and handsome.” Liz added with more exaggeration and a naughty look in her eyes.

“He’s on the practice squad.” I interjected, laughing. “And he wasn’t that handsome.”

“Well he wasn’t as handsome as Jim, but he was still really handsome.”, she added, playfully winking towards the front of the limo.

I shook my head smiling, and Jim replied with a laugh, “Well thank you, thank you. We can’t all be this gifted though.”

The alcohol allowed the sentence to break through my word filter, and I blurted, “I think I just need to accept the fact that my wife desperately wants to take a black man to bed.”

Elizabeth looked at me wide eyed and red faced, and Jim burst into laughter. The comment seemed to really tickle him. “No worries Steve, in my experience all white women want that. Most just choose to hide it.”

The return home limo conversation had officially entered the realm of risque, as it had many times before.

Liz turned to me, taunting look in her eye, “Well.” she paused, “Guilty as charged.” raising her hands in the air jokingly, as if she had been caught. I laughed, but felt a strange pang of arousal.

“I pains me to have to tell you this, but your husband is white.” I dryly added.

She rested her hand on my thigh, “Oh that doesn’t bother me baby, there’s always porn.” she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

Jim burst out into deeper laughter, and I couldn’t help but chuckle again at just how many shots she was getting in. I also felt a horny stirring in my pants, and I couldn’t wait to get home to fuck my wife proper.

I had thought back to the many times I had noticed an interracial porn in our computers browsing history, knowing full well that it wasn’t me who watched it – at least not initially. I always clicked on her leftover links, fascinated to see what she had gotten off too while I was out of town, or working late. It always stiffened me right up to know my wife was playing with herself to the sight of a massive black appendage pumping in and out of a white woman. I wondered many times if she was imagining herself in the actresses position, naked on her back, sexy legs writhing in the air, taking a huge black shaft.

It wasn’t just her preference in porn, either. Liz had told me stories about her college years. Both her and her roommate had steady boyfriends through most of it. While Liz behaved and focused on school, her roommate was constantly partying and sleeping around. Jessica and her boyfriend Brian apparently had an open relationship, but the way I heard it Jessica was definitely the one to take advantage of it. She would often invite guys from the basketball team over to cuckold Brian. Liz told me a number of stories where she’d have come home and her roommate would be in her room getting a pounding while her boyfriend was in the living room, studying. Liz admitted that she had masturbated to the sounds of those occurrences more than a couple times. She also said that her roommate was relentless in trying to get her to do the same, but she supposedly never caved. I couldn’t help but wonder how much those experiences influenced her wants and desires, her sexual development through those formative college years. Surely those memories left an unscratched itch, and I shuddered at the thought.

“Alright folks, you’re home.”

I had to fix my throbbing erection before exiting the limousine. I walked up to Jim to thank him, handing him a folded hundred as tip in the process.

“Have a good night Jimmy, see you in a few months.” Liz blew him a kiss as she scurried inside of our home.

He shook his head as he watched her escape into the house, round ass bouncing back in forth in her dress as the door closed behind her.

“She’s quite a handful Steve, but you’re a damn lucky man.”

I was smart enough to know that ‘You’re a lucky man.’ loosely translated into ‘I wish I could fuck your wife.’ but I smiled regardless, “Thanks for the lift Jim, see you soon.”

Our sex that night was torrid, no words were shared during our intercourse, but it was sweaty and hard, and ended with her gentle orgasm, cumming on my five inches. Bringing Elizabeth to orgasm was always a victory for me. Mere moments thereafter we both passed out into a drunken and satisfied slumber.

A week had passed and my wife and I were enjoying some Chinese food and wine in our living room, classy dinner I know. It was a long work week for the both of us, and it was just nice to have a relaxing Friday night at home.

I was channel surfing and I eventually stumbled across our local newscast. As luck would have it, the sports reporter was talking about Bronco’s training camp, the season would be starting up soon.

I glanced over at Elizabeth with what had to have been a shit eating grin. “Wonder if they’ll talk about your boyfriend, assuming he hasn’t gotten cut from the team already.”

She blushed, taking another sip of wine. “He’s actually texted me a couple times…”

The comment was a surprise to say the least, and caused me to stop chewing on my broccoli to look at her.

“Oh?”, was all I could muster with a mouthful of food.

Liz blushed deeper, “Yeah, but I haven’t replied.”

I asked the obvious question, “What did he say?”

She slowly reached for her phone, tapping the screen a few times before reading the messages in a playful tone of voice,

“What up baby? It’s Freddy from the party last weekend, just wanted to see what was good.” she smirked, and continued, “And then he sent another this morning, ‘Hey girl, hit me back, exclamation point. I know you had a good time dancing with me, another exclamation point.'” Liz chuckled, blushing.

“Well he’s right about that last part…” I smirked, somehow finding this situation both incredibly amusing and strangely arousing. I wasn’t sure what in particular excited me about it, but the fact that another man was attempting to court my wife, knowing that she was married, fascinated me. I also had a number of thoughts rush through my brain related to my wife’s desire for black men. In a fateful moment I decided to push the envelope with her, “You can reply if you want, have some fun with it. I don’t mind.”

Liz looked at me with a raised eyebrow, “Sure you don’t.”

“No I’m serious.” I gave her a sincere look to let her know it was fair game. “This is pretty hysterical actually, tease him a bit.”

She looked at me with a mix of confusion, excitement, and amusement. She shrugged and chuckled, picking up the phone she said to me, “I guess it’s rude to leave him hanging.” she began texting.

I watched intently as her fingers tapped a reply. It was only a few short moments before she received a response. I saw her smile and start again with another text. Liz was a few glasses of red deep, so she seemed to be typing her messages without a care, and before long my wife was in a full blown casual text conversation with another man. There were a number of smirks and expressions she made that made me more than a little curious as to what she was talking about with him.

“Well, what’s he saying?” I asked, finally.

She looked up at me playfully, “Now now, wait a second here, let me finish my chat with Freddy.” she stuck her tongue out in teasing fashion, and I felt another strange pang of excitement.

“Oh hell no, tell me what he’s saying.” I had to know immediately.

“Fine fine, one sec.”

She snapped some screenshots of her conversation with him, and began texting them to me. The images of her conversation flashed across my phone screen:

Elizabeth: ‘Hey Freddy, I had a really good time dancing with you, but like I said… I’m married!’

Freddy: ‘Damn girl, I’m happy you hit me back! You’re married, so what? We were just dancing. Thought you said your hubby was cool with you dancing with other guys anyway?’

Elizabeth: ‘He is… He doesn’t like to dance.’

I cleared the developing lump in my throat with a swallow, and continued reading with bizarre excitement.

Freddy: ‘Well there you go, then I’ll just have to take you dancing again.’

The images of the other night flashed through my mind, Elizabeth, hot and bothered, shaking her ass into Freddy’s crotch, his large hands exploring her body as they moved to the rhythm of the music.

Elizabeth: ‘Lol will you now? Do you go dancing often?’

Freddy: ‘Often enough baby. I’ll get us in at Llona’s, prime time Friday night. Any Friday you want.’

Llona’s was one of, if not the most exclusive night club in Denver. Elizabeth had been wanting to go there for years, but we never did.

Elizabeth: ‘Really? I have always wanted to check that place out. Don’t tempt me!’

I glanced over at Elizabeth, who was still texting him, ahead of me in the conversation, she was taking screen shots and sending me their exchange as it progressed. I noticed that her face was flush, she clearly looked excited. She spoke but didn’t take her eyes away from the screen, “This guy is relentless. He really wants to take me dancing next weekend. At least I think he does.”

I don’t know what came over me, but a vocal minority inside of me wanted her to do it, wanted her to go. I couldn’t explain it. I asked, “Why does that seem to surprise you babe?”

She looked up at me, “Really Steve? For one I’m a few years older than him, for two – I’m fucking married.” She lifted her hand flashing me the nice diamond ring I had bought her years ago, as if I needed a reminder.

“Like he said, it’s just dancing.” I glanced back down at my phone as I said it, but I knew she wouldn’t let me off that easy. She looked at me in complete surprise.

“Are you serious? You’d let me go?”

I stumbled for words, and found them, “Well I don’t know. If you promised to behave. God knows I won’t ever step foot inside that place, and you’ve been hassling me to go for years.”

“You did say we’d probably have to wait outside for hours before we got in, even if we did ever go.” Her facial expression turned to ponderous, she was definitely thinking about it, but her reservations were more than apparent. “You saw how he was, dancing, with me.” she put her hands up, air quoting the word ‘dancing’.

“Well that’s on you babe, I’m sure you’ll keep him in check.” No I wasn’t.

I tried to brush off that comment as to not make it a focus of the discussion, but the images of the two of them flashed through my mind nonetheless. I couldn’t believe we were in the midst of this conversation, and I certainly would have never expected to find it this exciting.

“I cant believe my husband would let me go on a date with an NFL player.” She giggled again, really looking at me, perhaps still thinking I was bluffing.

“Practice squad player.” I corrected. “And I thought it was just dancing, not a date.”

She laughed, “You’re really serious aren’t you, won’t you be jealous?”

“You know I’m not the jealous type babe, besides I’ll just consider you owing me one.”

Her voice raised at that reply, “Oh hell no, if this is just an excuse for you to take that secretary of yours out for drinks.”

I broke into laughter, “Suzie? Are you kidding me? She’s married and I’ve told you a thousand times I’m not attracted to her at all, shes a twig.” I paused, clarifying my bargain, “I was more thinking sexual favors.”

She seemed to relent for a moment, face flush and eyes full of deviant thought, she was once again seeming to weigh the options quietly to herself.

My phone vibrated and another text screen cap appeared, Lizzy still texting them to me as it progressed.

Freddy: ‘Tempting is what i do baby! So what you think, I’ll scoop you up next Friday?”

Elizabeth: ‘I don’t know! I need to ask my husband Freddy!’

Freddy: ‘Dude seems cool, ask him! Shit if he won’t take you dancing it’s the least he can do.’

I looked up at her, unsure of what came over me to find this so exciting. I was also strangely relieved to see that the other man wanted me to know about it, that he wasn’t necessarily trying to go behind my back. “Go ahead and have fun, just keep me updated.”

She looked at me long, pensive, I saw her bite her lip. “This is crazy, but fine – just this one time.”

One last message appeared on my screen.

Elizabeth: ‘Okay Freddy, next Friday at 10:00. Dancing at Llola’s.’

When the day finally arrived, I found myself feeling oddly nervous at work. I looked ahead to the night, wondering how it would feel to watch Elizabeth walk out the door to go dancing with another man, one who I didn’t even know. Worry and excitement both coursed through my veins.

When she came downstairs at 9:45, I nearly spit out my scotch. She was wearing a gorgeous dress, it was a vibrant green color, low cut and allowing her heavy cleavage full viewing. She was also wearing thin silver necklaced that draped across her chest, brunette hair cascading beautifully down her shoulders, matching fuck-me pumps on her feet. She smiled at me radiantly, and spun to show off her rear. It was low cut there as well, and her plump ass was popping, green fabric squeezing her gorgeous curves. I felt my dick stir at the possibility of what was to come.

“Wow.” was all I could manage as I choked down some burning scotch.

She sat down next to me, kissing me urgently. I immediately reciprocated. Why was this so fucking exciting?

“Steve this is pretty crazy.” She offered in a hushed whisper, mirroring my thoughts. We both knew this was a few steps over our standard naughty line – but it was clear that we were both amped about it. It was entirely bizarre.

“It’s just dancing.” I said, kissing her again, trying to calm her nerves – and my own.

Suddenly her phone buzzed, and she looked at me with some mild panic in her eyes, “He’s outside.”

I kissed her deeply again, “Have fun, and text me please – be safe.”

She walked to the door, turning as she opened it. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” and it closed behind her.

I scurried to the window after a moment had passed, glancing out as to not be seen. I saw a what looked to be a brand new Mercedes pulling out of our driveway, and quickly turning to leave the neighborhood. My stomach twisted in a strangely arousing knot.

The hours that followed were some of the most tortuous of my life. I had received one text about thirty minutes after she’d left:

Elizabeth: ‘We’re here, place is amazing!’

And nothing since. It was now 1:00 a.m. and my mind was absolutely racing over thoughts of what was happening. I tried to distract myself with television, the internet, my phone, half a bottle of scotch. Nothing worked.

Every time I allowed my mind to wander an image of her and him flashed through it. A crowded, sweaty dance floor, his large dark hands exploring her body, sexually clutching her breasts, rubbing his crotch against her rump. I felt my dick stir with arousal and it was completely inexplicable. Maybe I had one too many glasses of scotch, or maybe I was in the midst of discovering the pervert within me.

It was a few minutes away from 2:00 a.m. when I began texting her. Just as I was about to hit send the lock to our front door finally turned. My wife had returned home. She entered the house, closing the door immediately behind her. I saw the lights of his car momentarily shine through our living room window as he pulled away. She turned to me, her hair was disheveled, and her skin flush, but she looked just as beautiful as she did before she left. Elizabeth smiled at me with delight.

At first I didn’t know what to say, my heart was racing. I finally managed a, “…Well?”

She blushed in embarrassment, “Are you mad?” she offered, shyly and sweetly.

I quickly realized I wasn’t. I was just impossibly excited to hear about her evening, “I’m going to be if you don’t start spilling the beans! But no… I’m not mad baby.”

She slowly moved towards me, putting her clutch bag down on one of our end tables, taking a seat immediately next to me.

She kissed me, her breath was hot, her face damp, but there was love in her eyes.

“Well, did you have fun?”, I managed.

She blushed deeper, and nodded, “Yeah, a lot of fun.”

“So what did you end up doing?” I asked, desperate for an answer.

“Well we got there, and Freddy got us right in – I think he knew the bouncer.” she paused, catching her breath before continuing. “Steve the place is so incredible, it has two beautiful bars and a massive dance floor, the music was great, the atmosphere was great. I actually think you’d like it… aside from the dancing.”

“Well, yeah – that little part about the dancing.” I paused, continuing, “Did you have a lot to drink?” I prodded, trying to keep the story moving.

She smiled, “I had a few, but Freddy only had a couple since he was driving.”

I couldn’t wait for more details, “… Did you dance a lot?”

She nodded, looking embarrassed, smiling, “He didn’t stop, we danced for hours. We only stopped and sat down a few times, when we had our drinks.”

I once again cleared a lump in my throat, asking with equal parts arousal and fear, “How was he with you?… Was he touchy feely?”

Her blush persisted, and she smiled but with guilt, “Well… yeah, but I mean we were dancing Steve, you know what goes on when people dance…” she was fumbling for the right words, “He was holding me, you know… touching me.”

My dick suddenly jutted upwards with extreme arousal, which stunned me. I immediately pressed her further, “Did you grind on each other a lot?”

Elizabeth looked embarrassed by that question, “Steve…”

I persisted, so strangely excited, “C’mon babe, I let you go knowing what might happen on the dance floor. I’m not mad, just be honest with me.”

She bit her lip, and continued, “Yeah… They were playing that kind of music… you know… Yeah, he was grinding on me plenty.” Her blush was now crimson, and she avoided eye contact for a moment.

I don’t know where it came from, but I suspected the scotch was partially to blame, I blurted, “Well… Is is cock big?”

“Steve!” she smacked my arm.

“C’mon Liz, you’ve had a thing for black men for years, I’m just curious – now that you’ve gotten up close and personal with one. Was he big?” My heart quickened in its pace, awaiting a response from my wife.

She looked at me, noticing the arousal in my eyes. She glanced down at my lap, and my tenting khakis gave me away. She reached for my dick slowly, feeling its hardness immediately. She grabbed it, squeezing me, “Oh my god Steve! This is exciting you!”

I gave nothing away, but felt the blast of embarrassment hit me like a wave.

“Answer the question babe. If he was grinding on you all night it’s pretty obvious you felt his cock.” I completely avoided acknowledging the fact that I was erect from her storytelling.

She countered me, having her own fuel of arousal and alcohol to light her fire. She straddled me, hiking her dress up as she did, rubbing her moist panties against my slacks.

“Oh I felt it alright.” She kissed me erotically, mashing her tongue down my throat. I clutched her ass instinctively, responding to her kiss with my own passion. She continued, adopting a husky voice, seared with sexuality, “It’s huge, actually.”

I let out a delirious groan in response. What the hell was this?

She bit my ear gently, whispering taboo words into my soul, “He was rubbing me with it all night baby. I even grabbed it a few times with my hands, you know – through his pants.” she paused again, kissing up and down my neck, eventually continuing, “I’m sorry baby… but I couldn’t help it. He was turning me on with it, it felt so big and heavy.”

“Oh my God… Lizzy.” I tilted my head back and I realized in that moment, I accepted it. Her naughty behavior was impossibly arousing. She was my wife and the thought of a big cocked stranger playing with her did inexplicably arousing things to my psyche.

She began fumbling for my zipper, eventually pulling my rock hard dick out of my pants. She shifted on my lap, quickly pulling her panties to the side. My dick slid into her with ease, her pussy was as wet as I had ever felt it. She immediately began to ride me, continuing to tease me with her words.

“You like it don’t you. You liked that I went on a date with a handsome black man.” she kissed me again. “You like that he was rubbing his big cock all over me.”

I was suddenly honest, unafraid, “I can’t explain it, you being naughty is so fucking hot baby.”

She bit her lip, both of us trapped in a haze of lust, alcohol, and taboo, “I could have been much naughtier you know.”

My mind went reeling even further, “What do you mean?” I ripped down her dress, causing her beautiful tits to spill out. I immediately began sucking on them, biting her nipples gently like she loved. She moaned loudly, arching her head back, riding me. I was clutching her ass, and pulled back with my right hand, giving it a hard slap. “What do you mean Liz!?” I demanded she tell me.

She looked down at me, sexual devil in her eyes, “He asked me to go home with him.”

The admission didn’t surprise me, but I nearly came all the same.

“Oh God babe. What did you tell him?” I grunted, fighting back an orgasm.

“I told him I couldn’t… but he knew a part of me wanted too.” My wife began riding me harder, grinding her pussy into me with inflamed passion. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she fucked me. “He was rubbing my thigh in his car, trying to seduce me… I told him I couldn’t fuck him. He looked into my eyes for a bit, and then pulled out his cock to tempt me some more.”

“Oh fuck Lizzy, God damnit!”

She bit her lip, seemingly weighing just how blunt she was going to be about what happened, “He asked me if I’d ever seen a cock as big as his, and I told him no. I couldn’t help myself baby…! I touched it a little bit, but I stopped! Steve his cock was so fucking big I’m sorry baby but I just had to play with it a little. You aren’t mad at me are you?”

I grunted in a haze of arousal, “No baby… I’m not mad… Fuck, when did you become such a naughty slut!?”

Her own arousal was reaching fever pitch as she continued to fuck me, and she finally admitted, “He wants to cuck you Steve.” she paused, the words not sinking in with me at first. She kissed me again, deeply, looking into my eyes with eroticism. She spoke again, retelling me what he told her in his car.

“He told me to ask you.”

“Ask me what?” my eyes were closed, my world swirling around me.

“He wants to know if you’ll let him fuck me… He wants me to cuck you.”

“Oh God Lizzy, this is too much. I’m gonna cum baby.”

She put her finger up to my lips, silencing my plea.

Her voice was laced with sexual cocaine, “You know what he means baby… just like Jess used to do to Brian in college. Back when I would play with myself and listen through the walls, when I wished it was me in her place.”

My mind as gone, my thoughts beyond depraved, beyond any semblance of lucid. I groaned, “Do you want to cuck me Liz?”

That caused her to moan, buck even harder. I opened my eyes just long enough to see her biting her lip. “Oh God baby I do! I’m sorry! I want to cuck you with Freddy’s big cock!”

It was too much, my balls contracted, and I erupted. I felt Elizabeth join me in orgasm, moaning with me as i ejaculated into her. I had never felt her pussy milk me with such ferocity, the orgasm was spectacular. I felt her body melting into mine as we exploded in delirious, taboo, pleasure – and then the night was over.

My slumber was deep, my dreams, vivid and harrowing. My wife writhing in pleasure beneath a hulking black frame. Moaning loudly, limbs flailing, dark shaft pummeling her womanhood. Black cock extracting mind numbing orgasms as she came with primal ferocity. I was nearly cumming when I finally opened my eyes.

I immediately noticed that it smelled of bacon and coffee in my bedroom. She had made me breakfast. When I glanced down to take note of the pleasurable sensation happening at my groin I was greeted by the top of my wife’s head. She had been blowing me awake. Elizabeth noticed that I was finally up, and looked up at me with a sexy wink.

“Good morning baby. I’m getting started on those favors I owe you.”

All the sights and sounds and memories of the night previous came flooding back in one mind blowing instant, and I came down her throat. She swallowed it all, which is something she rarely did.

The conversation we had that morning was sobering, and revelatory. She showed me a text that she had received earlier in the morning.

Freddy: ‘Thank your husband for me, isn’t often I get to take such a beautiful woman out for the evening. Make sure he knows what’s going down next weekend too baby, don’t want no drama.’

I didn’t exactly know how to react to last night, but by the end of the conversation we had in the morning we both basically knew she’d see him again. The excitement of the evening was undeniable, and the sex we had at the end of it was some of the best of our entire relationship. The only massive, lingering issue, was the looming reality of my cuckolding. I knew Liz had wanted to bed a black man for a very long time. I thought back on some of the amatuer porns I had caught her watching over the years, realizing that the one filming the interracial action on screen was most likely the woman’s husband, boyfriend. My dick stirred absurdly at the possibility of that harrowing reality. Could she actually take it that far? Could she actually be that impossibly naughty? More importantly, would I actually be okay with it once it happened? Why was the thought of my wife taking another man deep inside her feeling like an insane turn on, and not a disgusting betrayal?

It was only later that day when I received a few more screen caps of her text conversation with Freddy, which did nothing but solidify the reality of what was coming.

Freddy: ‘So next Friday again baby? Same time? This time I’m taking you home for a little while, show you my place.’

Elizabeth: ‘I don’t know Freddy. I think so, but I’m nervous.’

The next message sent me reeling. It was an image that Freddy sent to her, with the caption: ‘Don’t worry baby. Look what you do to me girl. Gonna give it to you this weekend.’

It was a picture of his cock, and it was rock solid, black, and impossibly big. I couldn’t exactly tell because there was no point of reference in the picture, but it had to have been at least ten inches long, and insanely thick. It was a gut punch and it sent me reeling, slumping into my couch in aroused defeat. I couldn’t believe Elizabeth was brazen enough to actually forward me the text – but I was simultaneously relieved that she seemed to be hiding nothing from me.

I waited a moment, and the another snap of their conversation came through, my mind still scrambled – trying to reconcile that this was actually happening.

Elizabeth: ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about it. It’s so sexy!’

Freddy: ‘Gonna fuck that married pussy with it baby, better let your hubby know. He’s gonna get cucked by that BBC, make sure he’s mentally ready for it. Gonna send you home to him after I fill you up with it.’

My dick immediately strained as hard as ever, and I suddenly felt light headed.

Elizabeth: ‘Fuck Freddy, you just made me so wet! I can’t stop looking at it! My hubby is downstairs, but don’t worry I’m gonna tell him.’

Just when I thought the conversation couldn’t heighten beyond the level of eroticism that it was already at, my wife texted her own image.

It was a close-up shot of her beautifully puffy pussy, her pale folds inflamed with arousal, and her delicate fingers rummaging across her sopping wet clit. It was the most erotic image I had ever seen.

Freddy: ‘Fuck yeah baby girl, get your nut to this BBC. Gonna fill that white pussy up!’

I pulled my dick out from my basketball shorts and pumped myself to an immediate orgasm. I couldn’t believe how depraved I had become in such a short span of time, and I certainly couldn’t believe how depraved she had become either. I grabbed a few paper towels and cleaned the cum I spurted, and then I quietly went upstairs. The door to our master was partially ajar, and there she was. Her sweatpants and panties were pulled down around her ankles, legs raised in the air. She was holding the phone up with her left and, gazing at the image of his massive black manhood, with her right she was diddling her pussy as vigorously as I had ever seen her, moaning softly with lust.

I couldn’t help myself. I entered the room saying nothing. She looked at me with glazed, lust-filled eyes. I knelt at the bedside, and buried my face into her pussy, lapping at her glistening cunt. It wasn’t long before she had a powerful orgasm. She screamed a harrowing truth as she erupted in bliss. “Oh my God baby! I can’t believe we’re doing actually doing this! I can’t believe I’m actually going to cuck you!” It was at that exact moment that I knew it was inevitable. Freddy was going to fuck my wife.

When the night finally arrived, it started off much like the previous one. Scotch in hand waiting for my wife to come downstairs prepared for another man. She arrived in a similar dress, albeit this one was red, and her tits were bouncing more with her movements. I quickly realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. I looked at her with longing, with worry, with lust. She walked over to me and leaned down, kissing me with love. She looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you Steve. I’ll be home later.”

“I love you too baby.” It escaped my lips in a whisper. I watched her ass as she strode confidently to our front door, giving me one last knowing look as she closed it behind her.

This time I was calm, this time I sipped quietly on my scotch in our living room. No television, no computer, nothing to distract me. I waited, and it was only an hour before it inevitably arrived. They probably didn’t even go dancing.

It was a single text from my wife, it was a text that confirmed that I was now a cuckold.

Elizabeth: ‘I love you baby, but this is what happens when you don’t dance with your wife! Freddy just cucked you baby! He just fucked your wife with his big black cock!”

The video was simultaneously the most arousing and horrifying thing I had ever seen. It was cropped below her head as if to hide her identity, but the beautifully large tits on screen clearly belonged to my wife. They were bouncing erotically atop her chest as he thrust into her. Her tight tummy was coated in a sheen of her sweat, her gorgeously feminine hips twisted and contorted with the pleasure she was experiencing. Below all of that, was the site of my cuckolding. His cock was unbelievably large as it churned in and out of my wife. It was coated in her cream, which contrasted luridly against the blackness of his shaft. It was clear that she had already cum several times from how much of her essence coated his cock. Her pussy was gripping to his organ in surreal fashion, and the moaning that was audible even through my phone speaker was something I had never heard come out of her. It was guttural. I quickly realized that she had always wanted this, and I was strangely, bizarrely, happy that I was okay with her finally getting it. My ego had never taken such a hit, but I had also never been so aroused.

It was only a ten second clip, but I came to it three times before she arrived back home.

It was nearly 4 am when the front door slammed closed, waking me from my sleep, pants still around my ankles. I quickly fixed myself while she stared from the doorway, moonlight casting a silhouette around her gorgeous frame.

She walked over to me. She looked entirely disheveled, her hair was a mess, her lipstick smeared. Her dress was ripped and there appeared to me some dried cum caked to her breasts. My dick arose as I looked upon her.

She leaned down to kiss me finally, and her breath tasted of heat and salt, there was a lingering muskiness to her scent. It was evident another man had taken her, made her his own. “Meet me in the bedroom my love.” She whispered it.

I sat in silence and darkness for a moment, listening as she gently walked up the stairs to our bedroom, and I eventually stood to follow.

When I walked in the door she was already naked, laying spread eagle on our bed. She looked a sexual goddess. I noticed all the areas of dried semen, caked to her tummy and titties. Marks all over her sides, legs, from where he had suckled on her. And then there was her pussy mound, red and inflamed like I had never seen it before. Her lightly trimmed pubic hair was matted down and mashed. She was gently massaging her pussy when I stepped towards the bed.

“It’s so sore baby. He really pounded your wife’s pussy.” She looked at me with a depth of lust in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. It was a mix of longing, of taunting, of love.

I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I slowly knelt at the bedside, bringing my face close to my wife’s sex. I looked up at her, watching as she brought both her hands up to squeeze her breasts, biting her lip as she watched me intently. Like her mouth, her womanhood smelled of the same musk, a man with a much larger cock had been here recently. He had stuffed her full of his organ, extracting powerful orgasms that she hadn’t experienced in her life before tonight.

I dove in mouth first, kissing the soft skin where her inner thigh met her pussy folds, teasing her, kissing around her engorged, swollen lips, and then i planted my mouth directly on her sex – and made love to it with my tongue.

“Mmm, Oh Goddd Steve. That’s it baby. Kiss it and make it better. Lick that pussy and make it all better.”

Her moaning was out of this world, “Oh my God Steve this is so fucking hot baby! My entire body is on fireee!!!”

It wasn’t long before she was bucking in orgasm, and it wasn’t long after that that I planted my dick inside of her. She felt hot, and messy, but amazing all the same. I came almost instantly, burying my face into her neck, groaning loudly as she clawed into my back. Once we were both done we looked at each other, it was a look we had never shared before in our years together – but it was a look of lust and love and acceptance. We kissed each other passionately, and fell off into another delirious sleep.

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