tagLoving WivesA Craving For Colour

A Craving For Colour

byEnglish Bob©

I live rather a charmed life.

My name is Tony. I'm thirty four years old, tall and, I'm told, still fit looking. By trade I'm a diamond merchant with a nice, comfortable office in one of the best parts of town. I don't have to work too hard which leaves me time to enjoy my home life with my wife, Tracy and our three boys. Tracy is a wonderful woman; at twenty eight her flowing blonde hair frames a pretty face and regular exercise has returned her body to an attractive and very sexy size six. I love the way her deep brown eyes twinkle when she smiles - in fact I just love all of her. Most men I know would be happy to just be with her, so why is it that I want to watch her have sex with another man! Of course, this is not something that I could talk to Tracy about - she's an understanding woman, but I would doubt that she's THAT understanding! No, my secret fantasy must stay well hidden. My family saw me as a loyal husband and father and a good provider - this was not something that my wife would ever find out about - or so I thought!

It had been a warm, humid day. Lunch with a valued client had included two bottles of an extremely good Chablis and, as I sat behind my large mahogany desk, I could feel the warm sleep-inducing effects of lunch-time drinking. I glanced out into the main office through my glass panelled door and could see the two teenaged clerks, Heidi and Sonya, as ever busy scampering about from desk to desk, office to office delivering cups of coffee and collecting messages. As usual, the two young girls wore as little as propriety would allow and seemed gigglingly appreciative of the comments their attire exacted from the more mature male members of my staff. Too short skirts strained to conceal tight, teenaged buttocks and deep necklines gave the hint of warm, secretive cleavage without ever actually delivering. I felt the stirring's of an erection from within my suit pants - I may be a good family man but I'm also human!

The shrill tones of my desk-top intercom broke my pleasant daydream and brought me back to reality.

"It's you wife on line one, Tony."

I shook my head dispersing the image of a semi-clad Heidi and tried to turn my thoughts back to those of the diligent husband.

"Thanks Pam, I got it!" I hit the button for line one. "Hello darling."

"We gonna get to know each other real well, Tony boy - but I aint your fuckin' darlin'!"

The course, male voice on the other end of the line confused me. I was about to tell my secretary, Pam that she had mixed up the calls, when the stranger continued.

"Just be cool, Tony boy! We got your pretty little wife right here with us. If you want to see her again, you better listen good. Get your ass back home quick, man! Come home, Tony boy, your wife needs you here! Come home now."

In my business, the threat of blackmail or ransom demands are always present. I was immediately awake and sober and trying to detect some form of accent to help with later identification. The caller was trying to heavily disguise his voice, but I could definitely pick out an Afro-Caribbean dialect. I decided to obey my instructions and listen.

"We want you to bring us a little present, Tony boy. Take it from your safe and bring it home now - we'll be waiting."

The line went dead. It's strange how, when faced with risk or danger, the mind and body can react so well. I hardly had to think. I knew exactly what to do. The small, soft velvet bag was right at the back of my wall safe and as I withdrew it I didn't need to look inside, I knew the bag to contain a dozen of the highest quality un-cut diamonds. I stuffed the bag into my jacket pocket and almost ran past my surprised secretary and out of the building.

I remember very little about the drive home, in fact the first thing I can clearly recall is standing in the centre of the room and looking at my pretty wife sat on the sofa. She was flanked on both sides by two large coloured men. An odd thought popped into my head as I remembered my earlier speculation regarding their country of origin and realised that I had been correct.

"Did you bring the stuff, Tony boy?" the first man asked.

I nodded dumbly and withdrew the velvet bag from my pocket. I threw it towards to second man who caught it easily, hefting the weight in his hand. While his friend stood watching, the large man tipped the contents into his hand and began the long process of counting to twelve.

"We expected more, Tony boy!" He said at last, "this aint enough, man."

"That's all I could get. There wasn't anything else to bring."

The two men looked at me and then back at Tracy still sitting, head bowed on the sofa.

"It's okay sweetheart," I tried to comfort her, "everything will be alright."

The odd thing was, that as she looked up into my eyes, there seemed little, if any, sign of distress or fear. In fact she seemed almost to be smiling. I guessed that this was just Tracy's way of dealing with the situation.

"Don't make promises you can't fucking keep, man." the first guy said, almost laughing at me. "We been waiting here a long time for you, Tony boy and looking at you sweet little wife here has got us both a little hot and bothered." he held up the bag of gems, "this is too light, man, I guess we just have to take the rest out of this little slut here!"

"No! Please, not that!" I replied quickly.

But it was too late. The seed of the idea had been sown and was being rapidly cultivated.

Now, I'm not a large man - certainly not by the standards set by my two uninvited guests, anyway - but the men were not taking any chances with me. Placing the bag of gems on top of the TV, the first man pushed me roughly back into an armchair and held me down firmly. I looked over at my wife again. Tears of helplessness dampened my eyes. Odd, though. Even with thoughts of the situation turning sexual in nature, again, as I looked into Tracy's deep brown eyes, there was still no sign of fear and that smile seemed to be lingering. Was this just a defence mechanism, I wondered, or was there something more.....

Meanwhile the second intruder had taken up a position in front of the seated Tracy. The look on her face was changing from one of indifference to one of lust. It seemed now completely obvious to me that she wanted this to happen as much, if not more than the two men. His hands went to her breasts. I heard her whimper, perhaps in fear, or perhaps something else. I heard a rip. I looked back at Tracy's white, silk blouse and saw that it had been rent in two, scattering the buttons across the room and leaving her milky white breasts clearly exposed. (Tracy had obviously not bothered with a bra that morning). His hands went to her breasts and I could see the flesh of her soft mounds move as his dark fingers compressed them and played with the (hard!) nipples. The contrast in colour between Tracy's breasts and the intruders hands was almost clinical in its severity - and incredibly sexy.

Slowly, the large coloured man ceased his manipulations of my wife's breasts and turned his concentration to the rest of her clothes. He wasted no time with pleasantries or small-talk and within a few seconds, Tracy sat as naked as the day she was born. Apart from the odd sigh or whimper, she had still not spoken. I watched in a kind of furious fascination as the intruder began to lower the zipper of his pants and push the garment down to his ankles. I gasped as I saw his cock spring out. Not only was it hard and throbbing, it was probably one of the largest that I had ever seen. Not having seen too many, I'm no expert on cocks, but I knew enough to realise that what I and Tracy were currently staring at was a specimen of prime, black meat!

All thoughts of modesty now seemed to have left my wife. As the intruder held out his hard tool with one hand he entwined his hand in her blonde hair and pulled her head towards him. Tracy didn't flinch. She didn't shy away or protest in any way at all. The look of lust on her face betrayed her true feelings. Willingly she opened her mouth and took her lover eagerly inside. The man groaned out loud as her tongue slid sensuously along the underside and then swirled, time and time again over the tight head before replacing it, once again, within the confines of her mouth. The other man was still holding me down with one hand whilst lewdly rubbing the crotch of his jeans with the other and offering his friend some well chosen words of encouragement.

"Fuck the bitch's face, man! Go on, all white sluts love hard black meat! Give her what she wants, man!"

I didn't know about too many other "white sluts", but the one that I had always thought to be my own sweet wife was certainly proving him right!

Tracy's intruder/lover was now getting into his stride. He groaned and sighed contentedly as her held the back of her head with both hands and ploughed his cock in and out between her lips. I had to admit that the sight had brought on another inevitable erection and was currently straining my suite pants.

The man's gasps and grunts had begun to increase in volume now and his thrusts into my wife's mouth become fore frantic, brutal almost.

"Ohhh, baby...gonna cum...gonna cum...gonna...yes..yes....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

At the point of ejaculation, the coloured man pulled Tracy's hair back and gave one final thrust, interring his organ in her throat. She gurgled and gagged slightly as the size bulged her windpipe and tried to swallow as much of his thick issue as she could. But the man just seemed to cum and cum and, eventually, as he pulled his saliva-streaked appendage from between her abused lips the remnants of his climax began to seep obscenely from the corners of her mouth and dribble onto her chin.

With a combined laugh and a joke about white women, the two intruders quickly switched places. I was now being restrained by a man who had just finished using my wife for his pleasure, while his partner was about to take his turn. It seemed there would be little respite for Tracy's mouth. I could feel the man's muscular, black arms holding my shoulders firmly and I could smell the masculine aroma of his sweat.

The other black man quickly dropped his jeans and underwear and took up a similar position to that of his friend. They say that "practice makes perfect" and this seemed a fairly accurate description of my wife as this time she did not wait for any instruction. Her arms went straight out to her second lover and pulled his buttocks towards her putting his large penis a fraction of an inch from her cum-stained lips. Although this man's turgid erection was no less menacing than his friend's, Tracy was able to slip at least half of it's length into her willing mouth and swallow it into her throat. With abandon, my wife started to suck the stranger off like a pro. Her second lover was even less respectful than her first and was viciously face-fucking her for all he was worth. His grunts and gasps were only interrupted to call Tracy names like "Slut-bitch" and "white-trash fuck-toy". Oddly though, looking between my wife's out stretched legs, it seemed that the worse the insults became, the wetter her pussy got - by the time her lover was about to blow his load, I could see that Tracy's pink pussy lips were beaded with evidence of her own sexual stimulation. It looked like it would take no more than a quick stroke of her hard, protruding clitoris to put her over the edge and into an upwards spiral towards an inevitable climax. I would have loved to be able to do that for her right there and then but, restrained as I was, all I could do was to watch as these two coloured men took their pleasure from my wife.

From the frantic grunts and groans that were coming from Tracy's second lover, I guessed that he was about to blow his load. I watched as the big black held his breath for a moment and screwed his eyes tight shut. Tracy could see that he was on the edge and slipped her hand between his legs gently massaging his large, hanging testicles. That was enough. With a great roar of satisfaction the man plucked his throbbing meat clear of my wife's mouth and pointing the head directly at her face, unloaded a huge stream of jism. The first thick, white jet hit her forehead and dripped down into her left eye. This was closely followed by three more white liquid ropes that practically covered her face. Combined with his friend's earlier emission, Tracy's face and hair were awash with semen.

I closed my eyes as the men completed task like some pleasurable assignment. I couldn't bear to see Tracy lying so brazenly, so wantonly on the sofa with her legs asunder and her nipples so red and hard. I choked back my guilt and humiliation. How could a man sit back and watch his wife treated so? How could he just look on as she was ravaged by two men? There was only one answer, I knew that: I wanted it to happen, and it wasn't one I particularly wanted to hear. Slowly I opened my eyes. The men had vanished as quickly as I assumed they had appeared. But Tracy was still on the sofa. Not curled up in a defensive foetal-like ball as one might have expected, but legs wide spread and masturbating furiously.

The guilt came rushing towards me like an express train. I had to help her now or not at all. Like a man that craved forgiveness, I launched myself between her outstretched thighs and began lapping and licking at the pink petals of her pussy lips. Aroused as she clearly was, she tasted divine and as I sucked gently on her engorged clitoris she started to shake and tremble. The tremors were gentle at first, but as I kept up my clitoral stimulation they increased in strength until my wife virtually exploded in a crescendo of orgasm. It seemed like several minutes before the multiple climax seemed to subside. We held each other close, neither of us prepared to break the silence. Her head was against my chest when all of a sudden I spotted something. The something was velvet and still placed on top of the TV. I looked up at the gem bag and almost cried out as I saw the twelve little sparkling stones spread out before my eyes.

"What the hell?" I asked incredulously "Why did they leave what they came for?"

Tracy's eyes were fixed firmly at the floor. Slowly the truth began to dawn on me.

"The stones weren't what they came for, were they?" I asked carefully

"I'm so sorry to mislead you darling," my wife replied, still staring at the carpet, "but I feel the same as you about other men - especially black men!"

"You mean you know about me... my... er... fantasies?"

"Oh yes, darling. I've always known. Maybe even before you knew yourself. All this has been for you, Tony....All for you!"

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