A Change Of ColourbyEnglish Bob©
Mixed marriages don't work. That was the anthem drummed into me growing up in 60's suburbia. It did happen of course, even in the leafy avenues of the middle class. Several white girls married black men - a few of my friends in fact - but, probably due to the pressures of the times, not many of these unions lasted and those that did the couples usually ended up moving away to more hospitable or understanding areas.
It was tough too; there weren't many black girls of my age to choose from and those that there were didn't seem very interested. And so, as I reached adolescence, I started dating white girls. I think I always knew that I would never marry against my parents' wishes or against what seemed to be the accepted norm, but dating was a different thing as far as I was concerned. I adored the way that my dark skin contrasted with their soft feminine white skin and, probably because of the largely inaccurate rumours concerning the size of a black male's endowment; I was rarely short of casual girlfriends. I guess I thought it was probably little more than a rite of passage.
My academic education was more comprehensive. Completion of university saw me slide gracefully into medical school and yet more studying. My family had always wanted and expected me to join the medical profession and my first day as a bewildered intern on the wards of the city hospital in a starched white coat and polished shoes was an immensely proud one; for them as well as me.
When I first saw Miranda she was tending to the results of a road accident. Her standard issue generic green scrubs gave no clue as to her responsibility within the hospital and it was only a quick glance at her ID that confirmed her position as a staff nurse.
I was immediately captivated. Her slender beauty was accentuated by the dark skin of her West African ancestry. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she smiled - probably more with exasperation than anything else - at the tall, newly qualified doctor that was clearly unable to keep his eyes off her.
"You going stand around all day, or you shall we try and save this guy's life?"
These were the first words that she ever spoke to me and I'll probably remember them for the rest of my life.
Obviously I'd fallen for Miranda in a big way. It took me three times of asking before she agreed to come out on a date with me but, when she eventually did let me take her to dinner, it was clear that the spark between us was intense. I knew immediately that this was never going to be just a one-night deal and I was right. Three months later, and in an explosion of family and friends from two continents, Miranda and I were married.
We were happy; of course. Both our working weeks were long and arduous and conflicting shift patterns often kept us apart but we made time for each other.
Sex between us was also good. I knew that Miranda had not been a virgin when we married - how could I have expected her to be? - But she was still inexperienced. We talked about our previous lovers and I learned that her family had been even stricter about mixing than mine had; the three men that made up my wife's sexual education had all been black.
"You know, all the girls at work are so jealous!" Miranda said one night.
We had just finished making love and were curled up together in bed, our bodies inseparable.
"Of me, dummy! Being married to you!" I got a playful poke in the ribs for my lack of immediate insight.
"They all think just because you're black you must be hung like a horse!"
I laughed but I could see that Miranda was thinking.
"Have you ever been with a white girl?"
The question took me by surprise. She had never really shown much interest in my past girlfriends. I wondered what was on her mind.
"One or two." I answered "Why?"
There was an awkward silence that seemed to hang in the air. Suddenly this didn't seem all that playful anymore.
"I sometimes wonder what a white guy would be like in bed!"
Miranda had her back to me. I couldn't see the expression on her face but I knew from the tone of her voice that she wasn't joking. Several times I tried to speak but the words just wouldn't come. I lapsed into a hurt, thoughtful silence until my wife turned to look at me.
"It's not that I don't want you, baby!" she whispered. "Oh, I don't know! It's just something I'm feeling."
I saw her eyes lower demurely and her voice dropped so that her whisper was barely audible.
"Doctor Jameson - you know, in Orthopaedics - he's been hitting on me for weeks. I know this sort of thing happens a lot and it doesn't normally bother me, but..."
"But?" I interrupted.
"It's just sexual. He looks good and every time I look at him it makes me tingle. You know...down here!"
I felt my hand being guided down between my wife's open legs. She was wet - that was no surprise - but the heat that was emanating from her slit was intense. She was very obviously highly aroused by what she was saying.
Over the following two weeks our shift patterns were evil. When Miranda was working days I was on nights and vice versa. We hadn't mentioned the discussion but that hadn't stopped me thinking about it. I wanted so much to make my wife happy and found myself wondering if it would actually be so bad. It was just sex after all, wasn't it? I trusted my wife, didn't I? There more I thought about it, the more I slowly came to realise that, to keep Miranda happy, this was something that I must do.
The planning was easy. My wife had already told me the man she liked and doctor Jameson was well known to me. I was starting to feel a little strange. The more I seemed to think and plan, the more excited at the prospect I seemed to become!
Saturday was shift-change day and, after two weeks, Miranda and I were finally scheduled to be off at the same time. Jameson worked at a more senior grade and was therefore outside the usual shift pattern. It would be no trouble to ask him round to our house on the pretext of gaining some advice from him.
My initial plan was just to stay out of the way and hope that, left alone with my wife, Jameson would make a pass and one thing would lead to another. But I was curious and, as so often happens, that curiosity got the better of me!
Jameson had agreed willingly and 7.30pm on Saturday evening found me telling Miranda that a situation had developed at work, which necessitated me driving down to the hospital. She complained at first, moaning that this was the first day that she had got to see me for ages, but didn't try and stop me. She was well aware that, if called out, I had no choice but to go. I felt guilty lying to her, but I was sure our future happiness was at stake. A devious mind was the only thing that was going to help, I thought.
Of course, I went nowhere near the hospital. I parked my car a few streets away and made my way furtively back to the house on foot. The light was fading now as I slipped quietly in through the back door. I could hear my wife in the shower. The den was being redecorated. Miranda hates mess and I knew that this would be the last room she would go in to. I was fairly certain that I would be able to keep an eye on her in relative safety.
Jameson arrived right on time and I watched through the crack in the doorframe as Miranda led him into our home. I could hear her voice clearly as they walked towards the kitchen.
"Sorry, Jack but Carl has been called back to the hospital. You know what it's like!"
I watched Jameson smile and follow Miranda's jean-clad backside into the other room. I was pleased; my position offered a good view of the kitchen.
Both Miranda and Jameson stood drinking coffee for several minutes. They were laughing and joking easily and I was suddenly concerned that he might not be interested. But, looking at the lithe form of my wife as she stood against the counter and laughed at his jokes, I thought: How could he NOT be interested?
And then the inevitable happened. Was it an accidental brush of his fingers against hers? Maybe it was their close proximity? Maybe it was the fact that they were two people mutually attracted that suddenly found themselves alone together? Whatever the reason was, Jameson and Miranda suddenly stopped laughing and looked deep into each others' eyes.
I watched from my secreted position as his head slowly lowered towards hers. Two sets of lips parted simultaneously as they kissed passionately, Miranda's arms reaching up to encircle the senior doctor's neck whilst his slithered around her waist.
Things began to move quickly. Whether it was their undeniable lust for each other or the concern that I may come home early, I don't know, but, as I looked on, doctor Jack Jameson was currently watching as my wife started to take her clothes off. Miranda's arms lifted as she peeled the white t-shirt over her head. I noticed that she was bra-less. The jeans were next, hastily pulled down over slender, tapered legs and then discarded haphazardly on the floor. And as she stood, naked but for her panties and breathing hard, Jameson started undressing as well. Actually undressing is the wrong work. The doctor literally tore his clothes off and in a matter of a few seconds was naked and displaying an impressive erection.
"Oh God, let me touch it!" Miranda breathed as the two tumbled to the tiled floor of the kitchen; a tangle of white and black limbs.
Jameson was happy to oblige and, grinning widely, lay back on the floor with his legs spread. His erection jutted out proudly from his body and I watched my wife lick her lips as she kneeled beside the man and guided the thick appendage towards her open mouth.
As my wife took another man's penis deep into her mouth, I watched fascinated. Apart from the occasional sex film, I had never experienced the joys of voyeurism before. Frankly, I was finding the whole situation extremely stimulating.
Jameson's hand found the back of Miranda's head and twisted his fingers into the short dark tresses urging her downward and encouraging her to take more of his cock into her mouth. I could see that his eyes were closed tightly as he revelled in the sensations of her oral caress and his lips moved as mumbled groans of ecstasy issued forth.
Miranda's fingers tenderly cupped the doctor's balls as she raised and lowered her head slowly, bobbing gently up and down as she fellated him. Jameson's groans were becoming more pronounced now and his hips began to jerk involuntarily. It was clear that he was already close to climax and that if Miranda didn't withdraw soon she was very soon going to make him cum.
The sudden force of the doctor's ejaculation took me as much by surprise as it did my wife. She gagged as the full velocity of the release burst into her mouth. She attempted to swallow as fast as she could but, inevitably, dribbles of thick, creamy sperm leaked from the corners of her mouth and dripped onto her dark coloured breasts.
For a long moment, Miranda and the doctor lay side by side on the floor. His wet cock twitched against his leg but I was surprised to see that it showed no signs of going completely limp. Jameson was idly playing with my wife's breasts as he recovered. His hands cupped the hot, black flesh and rolled the hardened points of her nipples between his fingers. Slowly he began to caress down her body. His fingers traced invisible patterns over her flat stomach and down to the waistband of her panties. I could see the obvious damp patch that had formed at the crotch of the flimsy garment and was not at all surprised when she lifted her bottom from the floor and allowed Jameson to pull the briefs completely off.
I heard Miranda moan as she felt Jameson's fingers enter her vagina. She was already very wet and two digits slipped easily inside as his thumb rotated with a gaining speed over her clit. Her legs tensed and spread further open. Her head fell back in a silent gasp. I saw her legs begin to tremble and her back arch deeply. She moaned; a low wail that increased in pitch until it became a lustful cry of ecstasy as she came hard on his hand.
"I want you inside me." I heard Miranda whisper in a shaky voice.
It was a statement rather than a question and I would have defied any man to deny her.
Miranda stood first. Her legs were still trembling slightly as she propped herself against the counter. I think she intended to sit on the edge of the surface but, as her lover rose, his erection returned once again to full attention, I could see that he wasn't going to wait a moment longer.
Pushing up against my wife's back, the doctor guided his tool straight into her wet pussy. The two lovers groaned in unison as they felt the initial penetration and, as Jack slammed himself brutally in to the hilt, Miranda seemed to push back onto him.
Jameson's hands gripped Miranda's waist as he twisted himself, thrusting and forcing his cock into her body. The room echoed with the sounds of their combined lust and I could feel the straining of my own arousal deep in the confines of my underwear.
My wife was wailing again - a sure sign that she was cumming. Her legs were spread wide open and her hands gripped the edge of the counter as her body was invaded so lustfully.
"Ohhhhhh...God...I'm cumming again!" She cried
I watched Jameson smile wickedly; a sort of lopsided grin as he continued to pound his lover through another orgasm.
"Time for a quick change!" He laughed, suddenly picking my wife up and sitting her on the edge of the counter.
Now it was Miranda's turn to grin. This was obviously the position that she had had in mind earlier and once again opened her legs wide to expose her very wet vagina.
In a second, Jack was back inside her, his throbbing tool buried deep in her body. His hands gripped her ankles and lifted her legs up onto his shoulders, twisting himself forward until he had found the position that afforded him maximum penetration.
"Damn you feel so fucking hot, baby!" He grunted as he thrust back and forward over and over again.
Jameson's words were punctuated by each powerful drive making them sound disjointed and almost incomprehensible. Almost. It was very clear from the expression of pure animal lust on my wife's face that she understood every word that her lover uttered.
By this time, my own erection was fiercely inflexible and almost bursting out of my zipper. I decided to relieve some of the pressure. My fly opened with a struggle but pushing my underwear out of the way I was soon able to haul my cock out and give it a nice long squeeze. The scene before me was frenetic now to say the least and, as I looked on, I began to slowly masturbate.
Jameson was well in control now. I guessed that his earlier, rather speedy, climax had slowed him down a little so that he could give my wife what she so obviously needed.
With his cock still buried deep inside her, the doctor picked my wife up and kissed her passionately. Slowly they sank to the floor their mouths and groins locked together inseparably. Miranda wriggled into position on her side and Jameson picked up her ankle again and lifted one long leg into the air.
"Ohhhh...so deep...so good....mmmmmmmm!" My wife moaned as, once again, the lucky doctor ploughed her furrow long and hard.
Jameson's hips were almost a blur now as he rammed himself in and out of his lovers dripping pussy.
"Damn, you got a hot cunt, baby! I'm gonna cum soon...gonna cum in your hot, wet cunt!"
Hearing such language from a distinguished and professional doctor was a little disconcerting but Miranda's reaction was immediate.
"Not in me, Jack! Let me see it, please? Cum on my face!"
I felt my cock throb wildly as my wife played whore to another man. I was on the point of cumming myself but wanted to wait just a little longer. I wanted to see. I wanted to watch as the leading medic pumped his seed onto my wife's face.
It seemed a bit of a struggle, but doctor Jack Jameson was quickly on his feet with his slut lover kneeling expectantly in front of him. His hand pumped his foreskin back and forth and I could see the veins in his neck bulge and throb as he neared his climax.
A sheen of perspiration covered my wife's body as she wriggled closer to her lover on her knees. Her breasts looked hot and pert; the chocolate coloured nipples hard and up-tilted. Her mouth opened wide; she was ready to accept her gift and her tongue extended eagerly.
And then suddenly it happened. With a deep groan of satisfaction Jameson squeezed the end of his cock and forced out a great torrent of semen. My own climax quickly followed and, as I watched my wife's face awash with another man's cum, I silently unloaded my balls onto the den carpet.
A little later, after doctor Jameson had left, I heard the shower start up again. I knew this was my chance to get back into the main part of the house and, as the bathroom door closed, I slipped off my shoes and padded up the stairs. Steam clouded the small bathroom but I could still see the lithe figure of my wife as the water cascaded over her body through the frosted glass partition. On instinct I quickly stripped my clothes off and slipped into the cubicle next to her. My penis was already beginning to rise when she noticed my presence.
"Carl! I thought you were at the hospital."
"Got off early!" I replied as my hands began to wander.
I closed in behind her, my erection pressing urgently against her bottom.
"So, what have you been doing this evening?" I asked as my lips nibbled at the wet skin of her neck. "Did you enjoy your "chat" with Jack Jameson?"
The loaded question didn't escape her attention.
"Oh Carl! I couldn't help it." She whispered. "I just wanted him. Right then, right there!"
My hands cupped her breasts and I heard her groan.
"Seem's like you still want something." I laughed.
"You're not angry are you, Carl?"
"Do I seem angry?"
As I asked, I pushed the head of my cock deep into Miranda's hot pussy.
"Mmmmmm....that feels good, baby! And I promise. I won't be doing it again. I think it's out of my system now."
As I began to thrust my cock in and out of Miranda's slit I felt strangely disappointed by her decision. My thoughts were of one thing only: How could I now get her to change her mind back?