Cheryl's Trip

I awoke with a start and looked at the clock on the night stand. I was very surprised to see the bright red numbers display 9:00. I had been sleeping for four hours that meant it was midnight in Charlotte. The phone hadn't rung once or, if it had, I hadn't heard it. Four hours had vanished. What had Cheryl been doing during that time? Of course, she had been with Thomas. Her first "date" would have arrived hours ago. I had no idea how far apart they were scheduled. I had no idea who the faceless strangers were. How many men had been with her since then? I would have to wait until tomorrow to learn the answers to these questions.

I won't bore you with the details of how I spent my time. I will tell you, however, that the garage has never been cleaner. My side of the closet and the drawers of my dresser never better organized. I actually completed my monthly call and expense reports before they were due, probably cause my boss to have a heart attack.

But never far from my consciousness were my thoughts of Cheryl. I visualized her laying on her back stark naked with her legs spread wide and between them the back of a black man. I imagined her enthusiastic movements and sighs, moans and urging. I was certain that the vein on the side of her neck would be swollen and her toes curled as she climaxed which she did with me almost constantly when we made love. I could only imagine the intensity with bigger cocks and men with much greater endurance and then fresh inventory of rock-hard cocks, not a spent one which she invariably tried to resurrect when we made love. I could almost see her hands grip the black ass of her date with her wedding band sparkling in the dim light. During the night I awoke when I felt something sticky on my stomach and realized that I had a wet dream for the first time since we married.

I waited anxiously for the call from Cheryl the next day. Thomas had said noon. I didn't ask if he meant noon there, which would be only nine here, or noon here. When nine o'clock came and went I thought he must have meant noon in Phoenix. But, when the phone rang a little before ten I was surprised to hear his voice, not Cheryl's on the other end.

He spoke so softly I could hardly understand him, "Hey Danny boy, I told ya I'd have er call but I don't want to wake her, she really needs er rest."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Right here in bed, dead to the world been sleeping like an angel for a few hours."

"Well tell me what happened."

"That's not for me to say man, she's the one gotta tell ya. I will say I ain't never seen nothin, nothin like it before. She's just the very best. You're the luckiest guy on the fuckin planet man. But I can see why ya wanted her to do it, she's gotta be the hottest babe, by far, I've ever fucked or even heard about. She broke the teachers record and that was on a Friday night not a Saturday. Saturday's always much bigger n Friday. I better be quiet so she can get er sleep, she's sure gonna need it. You better rest up yerself for her return."

With that the line went dead. The reality of what he just said hit me like a truck. "She broke the record!" That meant that Cheryl, sweet innocent Cheryl, wife, mom, PTA, Churchgoing Cheryl had fucked more than twenty-three men, more than twenty-three black men, more than twenty-three black men for money. There was so much I wanted to know. But I would have to wait the rest of today, tonight, tomorrow and then she would be back. I could hardly wait. It seemed clear to me that Thomas had no intention of calling me again and I assumed, for some reason, that Cheryl wouldn't either.

The reverse of what happened two days ago brought me back to the same concourse at Sky Harbor Airport. I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to be in position at the window near her arrival gate. I saw the plane touch down and a puff of smoke as the wheels of the jet connected with the concrete runway. I was nervous as I moved over to a position where I could watch the passengers leave the jet way and enter the concourse. I knew she was seated in row nineteen and that it would be a few minutes before I would see her.

I was oblivious to the meetings of others, waiting only for my Cheryl. Then she was there. More than two days had elapsed since I saw her. I couldn't believe my eyes. Gone was the stylish suit. Gone were the black pantyhose, gone were the patent leather pumps. They were replaced with: a skimpy black dress that fell to mid-thigh, with straps over each bare shoulder—it looked more like a slip than a dress and more suitable for the evening than for traveling. Her beautiful long legs were bare, on her feet were a pair of high heel sandals with just heel and toe straps. The stiletto heels must have been five inches tall. Around her right ankle was a thin gold bracelet. Over her bare shoulder was a black leather tote bag. It was obvious to me and anyone else who looked—and I observed that included everyone—that she was naked under her dress. Her nipples, never very prominent before poked at the thin fabric, even the tuft above her mound was detectable if you looked closely and this dress was designed to encourage a close examination. Gone was the businesswoman's conservative hairdo. Now, it was more like a wild mane that framed her face which was more heavily made up than I had ever seen it before. I heard a sailor who was standing behind me catch his breath when he saw her.

She stopped a few feet from me. It seemed to me as if she saw herself as the prodigal wife uncertain if she would be welcomed home by her husband or rejected by him for what she had done. I smiled and held out the single red rose that had been hidden behind my back. She smiled in return and quickly closed the space that separated us. Her breasts were crushed against my chest. Our lips met but hers somehow felt different as her saliva mingled with mine. Her perfume was different and much bolder and sexier than the subtle fragrance she wore when she departed.

"Welcome home Cheryl, I missed you more than you will ever know," was my feeble greeting.

She looked into my eyes and said, "I love you Danny, I missed you too."

I took her tote bag, then we laced our fingers together and squeezed tightly as we headed for the parking garage. During this trip home her beautiful bottom was sitting on the seat that had been vacant on Friday. She was careless with her dress and it rode up almost to her crotch. She noticed me staring at her thighs and just gave me a knowing smile but she didn't say a word.

Before we turned down our street I said, "Thomas predicted that when you returned you would be sore but smiling."

"I'm smiling, but not sore," she teased.

Then, we were home. The time while we had been apart was plodding, now that we were together, for me at least, it was racing. We were in our bedroom kissing again. She was lifting my shirt off and trying to undo my belt at the same time. I was naked except for my socks and soon she was too. I don't know what I expected, marks, welts, hickey's, bruises other telltale signs of her activities on her body. If there were any, I didn't see them. What was noticeably different were her nipples and the pebbly areola that surrounded them. They were hard and twice the size that they had ever been. Also, her skin seemed to have a glow about it that I didn't remember. Then, without a word, we were on our bed. I always loved to eat her before entering her warm wet pussy but today I didn't and then I was in her to the hilt. There was a change in her body other than her nipples but it wasn't detectable from the outside. Her pussy, however, felt very different. It was wetter, hotter and actually seemed tighter, I expected it to feel looser. I assumed that it was swollen.

"Oh baby, fuck me, fuck my cunt," was her plea.

I didn't want to cum so soon but I couldn't help it. Even though I had masturbated several times while she was away, in a matter of seconds I felt myself on the edge and realized I was too far gone to stop. I shot a blast of come deep inside her clasping vagina that was by far the most intense climax of my life. "I'm sorry," I apologized when I could speak.

"Oh baby, don't be sorry."

For a few minutes neither of us said anything. It seemed to me as if we were sharing a common heart and breathing as one. My flaccid cock was still inside her but just barely. Then, something that never happens, or at least hadn't in many years, caught me by surprise, I was getting hard again. I realized that I had been thinking about Cheryl doing the same thing with other men while she was gone and it reignited my ardor. She grabbed the cheek of my ass with one hand and the index finger on her other hand played with my asshole. She scooped up some of my cum that was oozing from her pussy and moistened her finger and began to worm it past the sphincter. This was something she had never done to me before and had obviously learned during her visit to Charlotte. Then she kissed me while at the same time she began to move slowly. This time I lasted longer, much longer. She stopped kissing and put her wet lips to my ear and said, "does all this turn you on? Are you glad your wife is a whore? Do you want to know how many other cocks have plunged this pussy since you were in here last?"

"Oh, God yes!" I screamed as I shuddered and emptied inside her for the second time in less than a half hour.

As I came so did she. I thought her orgasm, which was always intense, was even more so. We were both covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair was actually wet. After resting for a few minutes with her head on my shoulder she giggled and asked, "wow, what's gotten into you?"

"No the question's what's gotten into you?"

She reached over me and turned on the lamp at my side of the bed. Propped herself up on one elbow starred at me for a long time before asking. "Are you ready to hear about my trip now?" Then she looked away and asked so softly I could hardly hear, "Do you think you can take it?"

"Yes and yes."

+++++++++++

She climbed out of bed and padded barefoot over to the tote bag. She bent over at the waist rather than crouching—giving me a perfect view of her wet pussy and little asshole—as she picked up the bag. When she turned around, she gave me a little smile brought the bag to the side of our bed hopped on the bed, got comfortable sitting cross-legged like an Indian squaw, facing me. Then she asked, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"You know Cher. How many, how big, how long did they last, were they all black and how did you feel about it?" I blurted out.

"Well, let's see, fifty-two, huge, until they came—usually fifteen minutes to half an hour—and yes everyone was black. The statistics are the easy part. How I felt and feel about it, well, that can't be answered so easily."

My God! She broke the teacher's record on Friday and then her own on Saturday. She sure made up for all of those lost years of fidelity which, in some perverse way, was one of my goals.

"I learned over the past two days Danny that you knew me far better than I knew myself. At least, a part of me that I didn't even know existed before. Oh, I guess for the last few months I had an inkling that there was a side of me that I had repressed. Let's see, where should I start? Oh, wait a minute." She leaned over, reached in the tote bag, took out a bundle and tossed it to me.

What landed on my stomach was a stack of bills with a rubber band around it. I saw that the top bill was $100. I fanned the stack and saw that all of the bills were $100's.

"Almost three thousand dollars." Was her answer to the question that I hadn't asked but wanted to.

It was only then that the enormity of what had happened sunk in. I hadn't been there. I was detached from it. What I was holding in my hand, however, was the irrefutable evidence that it had actually happened. I didn't know what else was in the bag but I was quite sure I would soon find out.

Cheryl interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Danny we both know that the beginning wasn't when I got on the plane or even when you asked me to chat with Thomas. No, it was earlier than that. After all, I'm only human and you had been pestering me for years no matter how firmly I resisted. Then, that night—I'll never forget that night—when you said I didn't have the guts to do it! Well, that was the final straw. Had you not connected with Thomas on the Internet in that gross chat room, something else would have happened. I was ready! Ready for what I asked myself?

She paused bit her lower lip and continued, "let's see? Thomas asked me to describe myself when I logged on the computer that night. My God! It's hard to believe that was less than a week ago." She exclaimed in amazement. "Well . . . anyway, I told him how tall I was, how much I weighed, stuff like that. I wasn't surprised when he wanted to know my measurements. But, then he asked for my: dress size, shoe size and ring size. I didn't even know my ring size but I told him 6 for dresses, 8A for most of my shoes. He surprised me when he asked what size pantyhose do you wear? I told him "B" tall. Then I asked him why in the world did he want to know that?"

"He typed LOL, which he said was laughing-out-loud, then explained it assured him I was a woman. He said lot's of men pretend to be a woman on the Internet. Also, the size of the pantyhose confirmed my other measurements. I realized he was smarter than I expected him to be and that, obviously, it wasn't the first time he had done something like this. Then he asked me how I felt about flying to Charlotte for the weekend. I explained that this was so sudden I'd have to get used to the idea. He asked a lot of questions about our sex life. A lot of questions about me and my preferences. How old was I when I first french kissed, 15. How old was I when I got felt up outside my clothes, also 15. Bare breasts, 16. Had my pussy touched, outside my clothes, 17. Had my pussy touched bare, 18. First intercourse, 18. First orgasm, 18. First time eaten, 18. First blow job, 19. First anal, 30. Did I use vibrators? Yes! Did I like them? Oh, Yes! Well we chatted and then he said he wanted me to call him on the telephone. I told him we had agreed that we wouldn't do that. He sweet-talked me for a while and I finally agreed to call him. I copied down his number, logged off the computer and went back into the bedroom and called him from the telephone on your side of the bed.

Within in a few minutes of him answering the phone on the first ring, he was telling me that my voice was beautiful and sexy and that he had a hard-on. Stuff like that. He asked me what I was wearing and I told him a T-shirt and panties. He said, "take them off." Dan I really didn't think about it for a second, I just stripped off the Shirt and whisked down my beige panties. He asked me to touch myself. My breasts, my nipples my tummy, that's what he said, and then my hair. After a few minutes he asked me to use my vibrator. Again, I didn't think twice, I just rolled over to my side of the bed reached under my pillow and turned it on. I placed it down on the outside of my lips because you know how sensitive I am down there and had to wait for a minute or two before I put it near my clitty. "Let me hear it," was Thomas' next request. I placed the receiver on my tummy, like I had for you before, and knew that he could hear the sounds of the vibrator and even my own "squishiness" because I was sooo wet.

I was so hot that it didn't take long for me to reach my first climax. I know that he must have heard my moaning and gasps for air. I don't remember saying anything. Anyway, after I calmed down we talked some more and he got really intimate. "Are you nips swollen?" Yes. "Is your little clit hard?" It is. "Is it sensitive?" Yes. "Are you wet?" Very. "Do you want to fuck my big black dick?" That question didn't get the instant response that the others did. I actually was caught off-guard by the question and tried to be coy by answering, "I don't know." He laughed and said, "sure you want to fuck me and all my friends, too."

"Look Cheryl, your voice is wonderful if you look anything like Dan and you described the bros will go crazy for you. Will you promise me that you'll at least fly here and give it a try?" The smooth talker went on, "if Dan can get you a ticket on points, whata got to lose. It's a chance for you to get away for a weekend, see a part of the country you've never seen before and do some things that you've never done before. Nobody but us will ever know about it. I'll make all the arrangements, all you have to do is get on the airplane, stay here for a couple of days and get back on the airplane for home on Sunday." There was a long silence then he asked, "how about it, I really want to meet you?"

He didn't wait for me to answer but said, "we don't even know if you can get a reservation for this weekend. I know a site on the Internet that I can check and see if there's something available. Dan said his points are on Delta, is that right?"

This was certainly moving faster than I thought it would but I acknowledged and confirmed, "yes, Delta."

"Hang on for a sec honey." It didn't seem like much time had passed when he was back on the line. "Delta has a flight leaving Phoenix Friday morning at 9:15. You'd have a connection in Atlanta and arrive here at 4:57 that evening. They also have a return Sunday afternoon that will get you home that evening. Should I make the reservations?"

I guess with all major decisions there are moments of truth, not just one. After you told me I didn't have the guts to do what those other women did I was determined to prove to you that I did. And then at the airport the morning before you flew to Denver when you asked me if you should set something up, that was also a moment of the truth. Then when Thomas asked if he should make a reservation that was the real moment of truth, or so I thought at the time. My feeble answer was the same one I gave you at the airport when you asked if you should set something up, "okay."

"Okay baby, I need your last name and then Dan will have to work out the stuff with the points, what's yer last name hon?"

"Williams." Now I knew we weren't anonymous any longer. Thomas knew we lived in Phoenix that we were Dan and Cheryl Williams and that he had just been given permission to make a reservation for me to fly to Charlotte on Friday. I wondered if I should have checked with you first but of course I didn't.

"Okay, I'll take care of it, hang on again honey." This time it seemed to take a little longer but soon he was back and said, "It's all done Cheryl, take this down. You depart on Delta flight 308 and change planes in Atlanta to flight 455. I'll meet your flight in Charlotte. You okay with this?"

"I guess so,"

"Look Cheryl, seems like you ain't so sure. I told Dan about this gal that works for me, a school teacher from Raleigh. She can't work right now, some kind a female thing but why doncha give her a call. She's married, real pretty, her husband's like Dan, it was his idea. They both just love it. Write down this number and call her tomorrow. Too late now." He gave me a number and I wrote on the pad below his.

"So honey, have Dan give me a call.

You know the rest. The next day, I didn't call the school teacher in Raleigh but I did paint my nails and went through nearly everything in my closet trying to decide what to wear. I settled on the suit that I wore at my sister's wedding. It seemed appropriate if he wanted me to look like a professional woman. I guess that has two meanings now. When I took my bath before I got dressed to pick you up at the airport, I carefully shaved the hair around my vagina and shaved the hair off my pussy lips. To keep my skin smooth, I rubbed lotion on the area that was now hairless. Anyway, the day was busy. That night I was soooo hot I really wanted to make love to you but I agreed that I wouldn't and I knew we could both wait for a couple of more days.