A Billiard's Ball

For many women, such as my wife Terry, there is a very fine line between a man’s adoration for them, and being treated like a sweet piece of prime meat. Which is perhaps often the reason for women’s pretentious behavior towards men in general. That’s not to say that women don’t enjoy getting dressed up even to the point of looking slutty just for us, but I’m sure that it’s an ingrained exhibitionist trait handed down from the stone age when only the best of the best could expect to be chosen by the chieftains as a mate. Not that I’m a chieftain in any sense of the word, but being a husband does give one delusions of grandeur, or at least in my marriage bed it did. I mean being married to a blond goddess like Terry would give any husband those delusions.

Delusion number one being that as we had exchanged marriage vows seven years ago, I just took it for granted that I was the only man having any sexual contact with Terry. Delusion number two, I thought that Terry was well satisfied in our marriage bed. And worst of all, delusion number three, was that my cock was the best thing in her life since puberty. All three of which were sand bagged the day I came home unexpectedly for lunch, and found Terry on our bed down on all fours dressed in her smuttiest garter belt, sheer black nylons, and matching nitey as the biggest blackest cock in the world shoveled in and out of Terry’s enviously stressed bung hole.

The postal uniform puddled on the floor next to my bed quickly identified the stranger, and I wanted to scream in outrage immediately, but my dick suddenly talked me out of it. The tent poking out of the front of my trousers speaking volumes about what I really thought of this raunchy display as I backed up leaving the bedroom door ajar enough to facilitate my new voyeuristic taste. In all of our time together, even before getting married, Terry had shown her complete adversity to being taken anally.

“I’m not letting you put something in, where shit comes out, that you also happen to put in my pussy, or mouth!” The ice in her tone then leaving no doubt in my mind that she had been serious in every syllable.

So was it any wonder that my cock was as hard as tinseled steel seeing that little pooper stretched out around that beer can thick 10-inch long pile driving black prick of a common US Postal worker? That Terry was cheating on me now only seemed secondary after having my best personal fantasy granted to me, albeit unknowingly so. I held off coming until the man pulled his black cock out of Terry, leaving her asshole gapping wide open with his jism welling out to drip down along her slit before falling to the bedspread below. I hurried quietly out of the house, and drove back to work.

It’s funny how when something that momentous happens that your brain locks up, and in effect takes the perfect video pictures of the event. Not that you appreciate it at the moment, but later, when you have time to think about it, you remember things like how she cooed like a pigeon with each inward thrust, and exhaled like a deflating balloon each time that cock pulled out of her. How the nap of her neck was slick with a fine sheen of perspiration as the honey blond tresses where bunched up out of the way in the black man’s left fist as she cried out; “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my ass with your big black nigger dick!”

The rest of my day was spent trying to keep my mind on business as those brain videos ran through it. And I vowed to have a little talk about fantasies with Terry later that night in bed. But as the day grew on, and my workload lightened, a plan formed in my head that would make everything work out fine.

Back when I was courting Terry, nothing I tried could get her out of her panties until one day at a mutual friends cocktail party, after two sloe gin fizzes, Terry became a flaming she tigress in total heat. Nearly raping me on the way back to my place before I could respond. In fact she made me eat her soaking wet pussy twice in the front seat of my Dodge before letting me take her on the couch in my pad. After that she spread her legs any time I wanted to tear off a piece. Beautiful she may have been but a drinker, never. Which was probably why she seldom ever lifted even a glass of wine to her lips. But once she’d given up her pussy to a man, she’d never turn him down again, even when sober, or at least that’s how it happened for me. And if it could happen for me that way, why not for some other man that I chose?

Just the thought of pimping for my own wife gave me an instant hard on. Making it impossible for me to get up from my desk at work for a good hour, or more. Thankfully it helped make my workload dwindle to where I was actually able to leave earlier than normal. And I had just the dude in mind to talk to about adding more men to my wife’s bed.

“Johnny!” My brother Mark shouted as I entered the Golden Nipple, his favorite after work pub. “Sit down and have a couple with us.”

I had no idea who the US was as there was only him and me, other than the bartender, in the whole damn place. But since he looked half shit faced I figured he must have included the bartender.

“How long have you been in here?” I asked as the bartender put a draft in front of me. “No thanks, just coffee for me,” and I slid the draft towards Mark, and put a twenty down on the bar top to pay for my brother’s tab.

I waited until the bartender had to take care of the next man to enter the bar before broaching the subject with Mark in private. Of course he didn’t believe me at first, even though he seemed to sober up a great deal once he caught on to what I was suggesting. But three beers later he made me promise to take him home so that we could discuss it over coffee at his apartment.

The hard part was going to be how to get Terry to drink a couple of beers with Mark, and me. And then Mark had an epiphany.

“Hey! You’ve still got that classy old fashioned pool table, right?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“Then here’s what we do…”

************

“A billiards tournament?” Terry replied over dinner to my question of if she would mind acting as our hostess. “And just how many of your friends are coming over for this billiards tournament?”

“Not many. Just Mark, and a couple of guys who have challenged us to a match game. You know, a couple of buddies from the old neighborhood. They don’t believe I have my own billiard parlor class pool table.”

“Okay, but conditionally,” Terry agreed then, “I mean it’s not like this is going to be a once a week thing, right?”

“It could become that,” I replied reluctantly, “but I wouldn’t expect you to be the hostess every week if it does become a regular thing.”

“I guess I’ll do it then,” she committed after a moments thought, “I don’t have anything scheduled for this Saturday anyway. What supplies should I purchase?”

“Nothing fancy, just chips and dips,” I replied, “oh, and plenty of imported beer.”

“I think I can manage that,” she chuckled. “Anything else?”

“Dress sexy,” I said, “it’ll keep the oppositions mind off of their game. Nothing elaborate mind you, and casual enough not to be suspicious.”

“Casual slutty,” she giggled, “that I can do.”

“Casual tease,” I corrected her, but she hardly heard it over her giggling.

************

There was a sexual undercurrent of electrical tension permeating the air around my wife by the time Saturday arrived. And I was amazed at how she was taking my every suggestion to heart as I stopped in our bedroom after she had just showered, and took note of what she had lying on our bed to wear as the billiards tournament hostess. The silk white peasant blouse that buttoned up the front with ties down both sides that was both open, and made it impossible for her to wear a bra. That would ensure that her bare nipples would poke out through the material, and give a constant flash of flesh on each side of her from ribcage to hips. Worn outside of the extremely short pleated beige tennis skirt, that when she bent over to retrieve drinks, or put out more food would ride up in back and show her lacey white thong panties was an excellent choice for her casual tease. And the pair of white ankle strapped four-inch stiletto high heels would give her legs all the way up to her heart shaped dimpled ass.

I also took note that she did her hair up in a bun in back, and put on a modest amount of make-up, as well as polishing her nails to a fire engine red to match her lipstick. Not exactly slutty, but certainly accenting her natural beauty in every way possible without being overly obvious about it. The perfumed musk that she used though had me panting, and wishing we had a little time to ourselves just before the doorbell rang.

In short order Terry and I were in the living room being introduced to two huge granite built colossus carrying their own stick cases. Both black men having shining black shaved heads looked like matching bookends.

“Terry, this is Jamal, and Shamoo Washington,” Mark introduced the one on the left first, he was the twin wearing a mustache, the other man sported a goatee.

“How do you do, gentlemen,” Terry put out her right hand in a friendly greeting, and as each in turn shook her hand with both paws at a time, “I’ve agreed to be your tournament hostess, so if you need anything just ask.”

Shamoo, always the lady’s man, bent down and kissed her fingers before replying, “I’m certain that everything will be fine, with you in charge of the refreshments, ma’am.” Then turning towards me, “Lead the way Johnny boy.”

“Follow me sports fans,” I said, “and bring everybody a nice cold beer, hon.”

“On the way,” Terry called out after me, then scurried into the kitchen.

We were deciding who had the honors when Terry clattered into the recreation room carrying a tray with four Heinies, and four glasses. Her body like an undulating snake as she sashayed from one man to the next serving drinks had every eye pulled her way, and as luck would have it put Shamoo’s shot off the mark gave me the honor of breaking.

“Aren’t you going to have a beer with us?” Jamal inquired.

“Well, I don’t usually drink…” Terry started.

“Please,” Shamoo insisted, “join us. I’d much rather look, and talk with you than these two losers,” and his sweeping left hand took in both my brother, Mark and me.

“Well, if nobody minds, I’d love to watch,” and she hurried out to rejoin us with her own beer in hand two minutes later. Taking a seat on one of the four high bar stools against the south wall that surround a small, tall round pub table that we have for people to observe the games from, she joined my brother, and Jamal as Shamoo, and I shot eight ball.

I took the first game from Shamoo, Jamal took the second from Mark, and Terry brought out the chips, and dip along with two more rounds of Heiny in the mean time. So that by the time I was ready to take on Jamal, Terry had at last finished her first beer, and Shamoo stopped off on the way back from peeing to set a second beer in front of my wife. Her second beer went down much faster than the first one by one game. So that by the time we were ready for our fifth beers, she brought her third along as well.

The match was tied two games a piece when I noticed our hostess warming up to Mark, and Shamoo as they each had a hand under the table on her bare thighs. Both Jamal, and I had a great view up between her legs now as she was no longer crossing, and uncrossing her legs, but sitting more like a man would with both feet planted on the stool’s stirrup. Her third beer almost gone as she flirted with both men openly now, her speech almost robotic like as she strained to maintain at least a modicum of self control. I won the match with Jamal, but we continued to play as Mark brought Terry another round, her fourth beer in less than two hours.

Jamal smiled, and winked at me when we both saw his brother Shamoo’s black left hand reach out, and casually fondle Terry’s left breast through her white silk blouse. She made no move to push it away, but simply gulped down the rest of her fourth Heiny as if trying to conceal what was taking place. It was more than obvious to everyone in the recreation room, but Terry that she was shitfaced. Still, there was no reason to spook her, and Jamal and I continued to shoot stick while watching both Mark, and Shamoo seduce my drunken wife.

“Say Terry,” Shamoo said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “how about you, and Mark give me a tour of the house while Johnny boy, and my brother play their game?”

“Otayyy,” Terry slurred, and giggled as Mark’s hand slid out from between her legs as both men helped her get to her feet.

The tour was short, and straight up to our bedroom where both men laid Terry on our bed. By the time Jamal and I got to the threshold, and peeked around the edge of the doorway, they had her skirt, and thong puddled on the floor next to the bed, and her blouse rolled up just above Terry’s naked bottle cap nippled breasts. Each man with a nipple in their mouths as they both hurried to get undressed. It was then that I noticed that Terry had shaved away all of her honey blond pubic curls, and I gasped at the moist dew surrounding her pussy lips. She must have been drunk longer than we’d thought for that to have happened.

“Wait here,” Jamal whispered, then hurried to join my brother, and his in my bedroom.

“Oooooooooooooooooo, fuck yessssssssssss!” Terry breathed huskily more than spoke as Mark and Shamoo played her flesh like a bass fiddle.

“She’s ready,” Mark spouted, and moved quickly in between my wife’s legs, and guided his raging hard on into his sister-in-law’s wet slit.

“Oooooooooooooo!” Terry cooed, and lifted her legs to scissor them around Mark’s back. “Looks like the little brother isn’t the little one in the family after all.”

It was almost as if my wife knew that I was looking on the way she said that to Mark, but I figured it just had to be the booze in her. And watching my own brother’s cock enter my wife’s cunt immediately had me on the verge of cuming anyway.

“You got that right, bitch,” Mark chuckled, adding more humiliation onto my back, as he did know that I was watching, “now let’s see just how good a fuck you really are,” and his butt lifted as he dragged his prick slowly out of Terry’s pussy slick with her juices.

“Mmmmmmmmmhmmmmm,” Terry moaned, “fuck me, baby! Fuck me!”

It was like watching one of those big oil derrick pumps as my brother’s ass rose and fell, his cock sliding in and out of my wife’s moist hot pussy. Add to that both Jamal, and Shamoo each had their black lips suckling at Terry’s lush marbled white titties, and there was no way I was going to go soft watching this.

In and out, in and out my brother’s cock went his balls slapping gently against her upturned ass, and up and down went my wife’s hips in response. Two metronomes in the time honored concert of copulation, and they hadn’t even kissed each other yet, as Jamal, and Shamoo’s heads were in the way. Up, and down, in and out the incestuous pair coupled as two sets of black hands began to slither snake like; caressing my wife’s exposed flesh in unison.

Jamal slithered the long middle finger of his right hand up in between Terry’s buttocks, and then pushed it right up her tight white ass. He began to finger fuck Terry’s asshole pulling out when Mark’s cock pushed in, and vice versa. In a few moments he added a second finger then a third. And when Terry didn’t object, he added a fourth, almost fist fucking her asshole as Mark fucked her pussy using the lubrication pouring out of my wife’s cunt.

I had to strangle my cock when Mark’s body suddenly began jerking as he tensed up while spilling his seed into my wife, and his sister-in-law twenty minutes after entering her. By this time there was a fine sheen of perspiration covering Terry that set off the hollows, and splendid curves of her body giving her that oil wrestler look, and I didn’t want to cum again until she had one of those black cocks in her.

When Mark pulled all of the way out I almost came again anyway. His cock left her cunt looking like a used witch’s cauldron bubbling over with innocuous milky gray/white slime. It was such a filthy display that I almost rushed in there to find out what that disgusting mixture tasted like. But that would have broken the alcoholic spell that Terry was under, and I had no intention of doing that as Shamoo’s muscular black body was moving in between her still spread white thighs at that moment.

It might be hard to imagine why I would be so turned on seeing my wife acting like a typical cathouse whore to some people. But seeing her there in our marriage bed, looking like the girl next door from a Playboy magazine centerfold on her back, taking all comers was such an over powering thing that I just couldn’t help myself. And the fact that Terry had fucked my brother, and was about to let two black brothers use her body was this voyeur’s true wet dream come to life. And I watched as my wife reached out with both hands to guide Shamoo’s monolith right up to her bald shaved bubbling cauldron. Her eyes almost crossing as her total attention zoomed in on that nine inch beer can thick black magic wand as she dipped its head into that vile mix of her seething carnal cave.

Terry’s hands began to caress, and tug at Shamoo’s prick when he refused to just push his cock straight into her. Her legs raising up to lock around his back at the waist by her ankles to then try lifting her cunt to swallow his meat without dislodging Jamal’s hand from her butt. It worked, and I gloried in how that huge slab of black meat slowly squeezed into that pussy stretching its lips tight around their connection as it caused the slime in there to ooze out around it like an over stuffed grease fitting. I came then thinking how that should have been my sloppy seconds instead of just lubrication for that mammoth black dick.

“Ooooooooooooh fuck yeah,” Terry breathed out. Her cunt beginning to slid off that cock as her ass settled back down on the bed.

Jamal scooted a bit on the bed then so that he was inverted to his brother, and Terry enough that if she turned her head to the right she could suck his cock as well. Shamoo’s hips followed her down to the mattress never dislodging his cock, and when he saw what his brother wanted turned Terry’s head in that direction, grabbed his brother’s prick, and guided it to my wife’s lips. Terry never hesitated, and with a black hand up her ass, a big black dick in her pussy, she began to suckle on the head of Jamal’s big black cock as well. The bun her hair had been in now falling apart.

“That’s it Terry,” Shamoo crooned in her ear, “you’re getting the total black experience now, baby!”

My dick refused to go limp with such a raunchy display going on in my marriage bed. And I noticed the same was true for my brother who sat in the comfortable chair next to the bed slowly jerking on his slicked up prick as he waited for another turn at my wife. Standing where I was I saw Terry now licking at Jamal’s balls, then she really freaked me out by putting her face up between his ass cheeks to lick at that black ass. Even sticking her tongue as far as she could up inside of that dark hole. And all the while Shamoo hovered over her sliding his big black dick slowly in and out of Terry’s stretched out slit. His grin as evilly wicked as any man fucking another man’s wife, possessing, and using what wasn’t legally his to have, but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh baby!” Shamoo groaned. “You certainly are one nasty married white slut, aren’t you.”

“Mmmmmmmhmmmmm,” was all she could get out from inside of Jamal’s rear end.

“She sure ain’t no Nigger virgin,” Jamal chuckled.

“Yeah, she’s known a black buck or two alright,” Shamoo agreed, and started to pick up the pace. His black ass rising, and falling faster, then faster still as Terry’s body tensed, then trembled in another orgasm. Her hips swinging up off the mattress to meet every thrust of that big black cock as I stared in awe.