Lois' Story

I was getting ready for work when I found the few printed pages on the kitchen table obviously left earlier by my husband John before he left for work. I took a few minutes to read the story of a wife being lured into an interracial sexual encounter by her husband. The similarities with me were too close to be accidental. While not expected, I wasn't totally surprised. He had broached the subject before. I wasn't thrilled with the idea before and I wasn't then.

Over dinner that evening I brought up the subject, "I found the story you left this morning. I don't get it. Help me to understand why you want me to have sex with another man. If a man loves his wife, I wouldn't think he would ever want to share her."

John put down his fork, "Lois, its not that I don't love you. In fact I believe our love is so strong that it goes beyond sex and can't be threatened by anyone. If I had any doubts about that, I'd be jealous and protective. It's just that I find the idea of you having sex with a black man to be incredibly erotic. For me it's a huge turn on, and I think you would enjoy the experience of a different lover as long as he was the right person for you."

John continued, "All I'm suggesting is that you consider it. I can do all the work of finding someone you'll like. It will be entirely up to you what if anything happens, or if you even meet him."

"Are you doing this because you feel guilty for cheating on me? Or, maybe you're looking for an excuse to have your own affair?" I asked.

"No I haven't cheated on you, and no, I don't want an affair," he responded. "It's just that I get excited by the idea of a black man with a large cock making love to you."

"This better not be about you having another lover," I continued. "I am the jealous type. I think a marriage is a committed relationship between two people, and I don't understand why you feel this need."

John thought for a bit before he responded, "I believe we have a committed relationship, and I think our commitment is so strong that it doesn't matter if you have sex with someone else. I also know you don't feel the same way, and I understand and respect that. It's just a fetish of mine; I guess I could be called a voyeur. I also don't know why I feel this need, but I do," he added.

We let the subject drop after that.

Several days later, I reluctantly agreed that John could take the lead and that I would meet whomever he selected, but I was firm that all I was agreeing to was a meeting and he and who ever he came up with should be prepared for me to refuse to go any farther, because that was exactly what I expected to do. In the 20 years we had been together, I never felt the need to take another lover.

John's effort took months. He knew it was his one and only chance to make his fantasy come true. Using the internet, he had no problem finding hundreds of interested guys. The ads he posted went something like this: "MWF 46, 5'6" 135 lbs., reddish blonde hair, hazel eyes 38D-26-37 seeking black lover with husband's permission. No drugs or STD." He exchanged e-mails, received photos, followed up with phone calls and met with the most promising. I had to admit he was putting a hell of a lot of effort into the endeavor which helped me realize just how important it was to him.

Finally he announced that he had someone he wanted me to meet. With all the energy he put into it, it was inevitable that he would find some body; however, I dreaded the thought of having dinner with a complete stranger who would be there under the assumption he would be fucking me following desert.

To say I was not enthused about the evening would have been an understatement. I dressed informally for the evening: slacks and a blouse, a gold chain, dangly earrings and a little lipstick. Our destination was a hotel restaurant far enough from home that we weren't likely to encounter anybody we knew.

We arrived first and were seated. Feeling the need for some help in getting through the evening, I ordered a Bloody Mary. Before long George arrived. John and George greeted each other like long lost buddies since they had met twice before. "George, my wife Lois," John introduced me. George smiled and looked me in the eyes as he took my hand. I was nervous and hoped he couldn't feel me shaking.

I had seen George's picture and physical description before. He was good looking with typical African features, 35 years old, 6'2" with fairly short hair. What his picture didn't do justice to was how muscular he was, which the polo shirt he was wearing revealed. He wasn't over developed; it was more the physique that comes from honest work. He owned his own landscaping business, and I assumed he did a lot of the work himself.

I loved to garden, and George quickly brought the conversation to some of the projects he had worked on soliciting my thoughts. It was clear he was well briefed and was trying very hard to both involve and please me. Perhaps it was the drinks, but I gradually began to relax and found myself enjoying both dinner and George's company. He was a good conversationalist with a dry sense of humor that I found charming.

After desert, John asked, "Any one care to go to a night club?" That was the first of two decision points of the evening. John and I had previously agreed that I could end the evening right after dinner If I so chose.

There were butterflies in my stomach. I could either say I was tired and ready to go home, or consent and the evening would continue at least a little longer. I saw no harm in spending a little more time with George since so much had gone into getting us where we were by then.

I could see both of them waiting almost desperately for my answer, fearing I might call it a night as I responded, "That sounds fine to me." It was cute to see how both their faces lit up.

John drove and I sat in front with him with George in the back seat. The club was one I had never heard of before, and once inside I was struck by the predominance of black men and white women.

"What kind of place is this," I asked.

John replied, "This club is rented for the weekend by a group that caters to white women who like being with black men. I felt you would feel more comfortable here where we wouldn't stand out."

I remember thinking, "what makes us stand out is the middle-aged white male."

We found a table and John had just returned with a fresh round of drinks when George asked, "care to dance?"

I loved to dance and answered, Sure" or something like that as I got up. It was nice not being the only interracial couple as we walked onto the dance floor.

The dancing was great. I needed the opportunity to release nervous energy and George was a great dancer. I smiled to my self as I thought that one myth was true, black men are better dancers.

Particularly in the beginning most of the dances were fast numbers. When a slow dance played, George was careful not to hold me too closely, even though almost every other couple around were acting as if they were in heat. I was beginning to feel comfortable around him. By the time the band took a break, I was having a really good time.

Back at the table, John had drinks waiting. I realized I was drinking more than I usually did in an evening, but it was warm and the alcohol helped me relax.

I felt no pressure to try and be anyone other than who I was, and when I reached for a cigarette, George was ready with a light. It was then that I realized I was feeling ambivalent about how the evening would end.

The bands next set had more slow dances, and I felt comfortable dancing close to George, even having him place both hands around my waist as I lay my head on his shoulder. During the last dance of the set, I could feel hardness pressed against my thigh. It was nice to feel George excited just by being close to me. It was also getting late and I knew the final decision point would soon be at hand.

Back at the table, John had another round of drinks waiting. That was his way of encouraging me to make the decision he wanted. My stomach was churning again. The sexual tension could be cut with a knife.

That the time had come was reinforced by John saying, "Guess its time we head back to the hotel after we finish these."

By that point, I had already made a series of decisions that had lead me to where I was. There was just the last decision to make. Back at the hotel, would we drop George off at his car, or would John go in and get a room? As we got up to leave, I didn't know if I could trust my legs, not from having too much to drink, but from my nervousness. My mouth was dry, my heart was racing, and I was scared.

Perhaps it was the drinks, perhaps it was the pressure I was feeling from John, or maybe it was that George seamed to be a genuinely nice guy with a bulge in his pants, when we reached the car and George opened the back door, I got in the back seat, sliding over so he could be next to me. My decision was made; a rush of relief overwhelmed me.

George put his arm around me, pulling me close to him. I turned toward him and our lips met in our first, brief kiss. He kissed me lightly, almost teasingly at first, but each kiss lingered a little longer than the last. Then my lips parted and his tongue found its way into my mouth. I found myself placing my arms around his neck and kissing back. Our tongues sought each other out in a ritual well known to lovers.

Before long we were at the hotel. John, aware of what was going on in the back seat, never bothered to ask what he should do. After registering, he drove us to a side entrance and gave us the key and a small bag he had packed for me without my knowledge. The butterflies were gone as I kissed John good night and waked into the hotel with George.

We didn't speak until the door of the room closed behind us. Then George put my bag down and turned to face me and said, "I'm sure glad you decided to spend more time with me. You won't regret it; I have a lot to offer a beautiful woman like yourself"

As I put my purse down I responded, "I guess it was meant to be."

I could feel the excitement building again as he pulled us together. We stood there for a while, in each other's arms, locked in a passionate kiss. We broke off and I turned my head to the side, inviting George to kiss my neck. His kisses followed to my shoulder. I threw my head back as he began unbuttoning my blouse, kissing the newly exposed flesh as he went.

Soon my blouse was on the floor and my bra was released by experienced fingers. My nipples hardened at the first touch of his hand. I began running my fingers through the tight curls of his hair as he moved his kisses to my firm breasts and flicked a nipple with his tongue. Soon he was kissing and sucking from one breast to another. I loved having my breasts sucked and moaned softly enjoying how good it felt as he engulfed first one nipple and then the other with his mouth and sucked on it. I continued running my fingers over the back of his head and neck, drawing him into me, encouraging him to linger there.

Without warning, he picked me up as if I were weightless and deposited me on the bed where he continued his assault on my breasts. As he sucked, kissed and kneaded my breasts, I started becoming aroused. I could feel the heat beginning to rise in my loins and my juices began to flow in anticipation.

As if sensing the change, George moved his kisses lower. He tongued my bellybutton as he loosened my slacks. I raised my hips, aiding him in removing my pants and panties. Soon I was lying naked on the bed before him.

He stood up still fully dressed towering over me gazing down upon my pale, naked body. In spite of my reservations, he had prevailed. I was his prey to do with as he wished. I lay there awaiting the next move of this conquering black warrior.

He slowly removed his shirt revealing what I already knew was a well muscled upper body with a firm abdomen. Stripping off his pants and boxers released a cock that was already hard in anticipation of the carnal knowledge awaiting it. My husband's cock was of average length, but nicely thick. The cock before was at least as thick as John's, but definitely longer. John and I had played with dildos of that size, but nothing that big "in the flesh" had ever entered me.

Getting back on the bed, he brought his face right to my neatly trimmed pussy; however, he didn't dive right in. He started running his tongue from my inner thigh over my labia. Then he gently circled my lips just brushing my clitoris. I opened my legs to him, inviting him to explore further and deeper. Teasingly, he kept circling my lips as I raised my hips to his mouth. Gradually his tongue worked deeper and my clit started receiving the attention I craved.

"Lois, I love the taste of your pussy," he said.

Then he started to eat me like a hungry man as he began sucking and lapping my clit aggressively. I was pushing my pussy into his face to encourage him to do more; my excitement continued to grow.

Then I started to cum. Oh God, it felt so good. Waves of pleasure were washing over me. I was shaking. As he felt me cum, he said, "that's it cum for me girl." Then he sucked my clit harder prolonging my orgasm.

When he realized my orgasm had passed, George gave my pussy a final kiss as he got up. I couldn't take my eyes off his rock hard cock as he put on a condom. That was the agreement since John had a vasectomy and I wasn't using any birth control.

I lay where he left me open to him, the room smelling of sex. He took a pillow and placed it under my hips. Moving up between my legs, he guided his cock to the entrance of my pussy, stopping for a moment just as I felt its head start to separate my lips.

"Would you like my dick now?" he asked, looking me in the eyes. He didn't wait for an answer. I watched mesmerized as his black cock went full depth into me in one smooth movement, lubricated by my own previous orgasm.

George paused after he was entirely inside me; never before had I ever felt so filled. The pillow gave my hips just the right angle for every nerve in my vagina to be stimulated by the big cock that filled it. I opened my legs wider to better accommodate its size. He began with long, slow strokes, going deep, touching my cervix, and then withdrawing almost completely, teasing my labia and clitoris with his head as he reentered me. He was massaging my vagina with his cock as we settled into a slow rhythm, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. I couldn't believe how good I felt at that moment; I found myself moaning in pleasure as my next orgasm started to build.

He kept up those maddening long, slow strokes as my second orgasm started to wash over me. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to keep him inside me, as waves of pleasure radiated out from my vagina. When I relaxed, he lifted me up from the bed so I was sitting in his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my nipples brushing against his bare chest.

Sliding backward a little, he moved his feet to the floor so he was standing, holding me by the ass in his incredibly strong arms. I was still impaled on his rock hard cock, which was deeper inside me than I thought possible, touching me where my husband's cock never had. My fingernails dug into his back as he began pumping into me in short, fast strokes. I came again in a series of orgasms that just followed one another as he maintained a frenzied pace. Finally, he laid me back on the bed and collapsed beside me in exhaustion, our sweaty, naked bodies against each other.

As I regained my breath, I realized that his cock was still hard and that he hadn't cum. I felt a need to make him cum, and figured the condom he was wearing reduced the sensitivity. I reached down, grasping a cock that filled my hand. After gently peeling of the condom, I began licking the precum oozing from the head. His cock tasted of salt and latex as I began taking as much of him into my mouth as I could. Soon I was bobbing up and down on his shaft which glistened black from my saliva.

"You have a talent for sucking cock, Lois," he said between groans as he clutched my hair and raised his pelvis in time with my bobbing. "I hope you're ready for a mouth full of cum."

With that, I felt his muscles tense and a blast of semen hit the back of my throat. I swallowed what I could, feeling glad to replace the taste of latex with the salty taste of semen. I sucked until I sucked him dry, feeling him tremble slightly each time I ran my mouth over the sensitive head.

I laid my head on his stomach and looked up into his dark brown eyes as he ran his fingers through my hair. "You have such soft hair," he said, "I can't get enough of your soft, fine hair. I could run my hands through it all day." We lay that way for a long while.

Feeling the need to clean up I said, "You'll have to excuse me," as I got off the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

The warm water felt wonderful cascading over my body. My thoughts were a confused mixture of feelings. Making love to George wasn't my idea and I went along with it reluctantly and actually felt trapped into it; however, George was a strong, but kind and gentle man, and a very skilled lover. I had to admit that I had just experienced some of the best sex I had ever had.

Uninvited, George stepped into the shower with me. "Here, let me get your back," he said.

As he half washed, half massaged my back he continued, "You sure know how to bring out the dog in a man. You're so beautiful and sexy. You just make me want to make you feel good."

I stood there enjoying George's touch as the hot water cascaded over my body. After a while, I backed up a little and felt a semi-hard dick pressing against my ass. I grabbed hold of it with a soapy hand and began my own massage. Soon he was rock solid again and George had moved to massaging my breasts, and I realized I was horny. A little over an hour before I was reluctantly allowing myself to be seduced, and then in the shower I found myself craving George's beautiful black cock back inside me.

"You seem to need more relief," I said to George as I wrapped my hand around his cock and squeezed to feel its firmness. "Let's dry off and see what we can do about that."

As we walked back to the bed, I directed, "It's my turn to play. Just lay down there."

He lay on his back with a wide grin across his face; his cock sticking up in the air like a black pole. I straddled his hips and slowly lowered myself so the head of his cock was barely touching my pussy's still swollen lips. I was surprised at how wet I was already. As I teased his cock head, I could see I was coating it with my own juices, creating a shining black knob. I looked into his eyes and saw them filled with desire, filled with the need to have me envelop his shaft within me. I knew that I should use a condom, but I also wanted to know that I could make him cum with my vagina, and while there were no guarantees, I knew I was at a good time in my cycle for unprotected sex.

In his eagerness, George started massaging my breasts and tweaking my nipples. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, pulling back slightly when he thrust his hips up to meet me. I savored the feeling of his cock stretching me, filling me fully and deeply.

All too soon I was buried to the hilt. I could feel his balls resting under my ass. I arched my back to feel his complete penetration. I began to milk his cock with the walls of my vagina as I massaged my self on his ebony shaft. Slowly at first, I rose up and descended, twisting ever so slightly and changing the angle to achieve total stimulation. Before long, my own needs prompted me to increase the tempo. I met his rising hips with my own thrusts as I rode his cock harder and faster.

George's hands abandoned my breasts to grasp my hips as we bucked together in an increasing frenzy of lust. I felt his muscles tighten; he stiffened with a mighty thrust and I felt his hot seed spurting into me, filling my womb. My vagina started to spasm as my own orgasm overtook me. Fire radiated out from my pussy throughout my body as my vagina clamped around his cock drawing it in, pulling the semen from it.