Melissa Strays Below Deck

Why did I have to fight with her? Of all the times to pick a fight, why now? Tonight was the first night of a 9-day cruise we were taking, from Miami to the Caribbean. It was supposed to be romantic and wonderful, not a freaking battlefield. But, we had got onto the topic of her quitting work to go back to school, which I didn't want her to do, and we were in a downward spiral of harsh words and accusations. Great way to start a vacation.

Melissa had just turned 30, which wasn't an easy milestone for her, mentally. She was aware of her waning youth, and didn't like it. A former soccer player at her small college, she still had an athlete's tight frame, although age and motherhood had added just the right amount of fat on her hips and on her small breasts to make her that much more voluptuous than she was in her teens and early 20's. The small pads of fat on the back of her thighs were especially inviting, signifying the onset of MILF-dom. She wasn't overly athletic anymore, but she was still recognizable as a blue-eyed blonde-haired beach-loving California babe. Just looking at her made most normal men think about how fun it would be to breed her, and they were right!

But damn was she pissed off at me right now. And that meant that she would be drinking over the next couple of days. It was how she coped with stress. But Melissa was an absolute lightweight when it came to alcohol, she never could hold it very well at all. When sober, she was a shameless flirt who enjoyed teasing men and often put herself in positions where she could get chatted up and hit on hard, then back out at the last minute. But even two glasses of wine would cloud her judgment enough to cause problems. So I wasn't looking forward to the first few days of this trip.

We had picked a pretty classy ship for our cruise. It was smallish, at just a little over 500 feet, so it wasn't one of those super liners. More like an enormous yacht, although it had room for about 60 passengers. It didn't have all the activities of one of the huge liners, but the setting was more intimate, and it made quite a few stops in the islands.

We spent the first day getting to know the ship and some of our fellow passengers, but we were quickly isolated from them, due to Melissa's cold anger. She wasn't in the mood to socialize, and was pissed off that she was more or less forced to be around me all day. By the time supper ended, she was fairly well drunk, and so we took a pass on the evening's meet and greet. Well, she took a pass on it. She didn't want to leave the cabin, but made it quite clear that I wasn't welcome there myself, so I went to the party alone. That was fine by me, because she wasn't the most pleasant woman to be around just then, to be honest.

I had a blast at the party. There were all kinds of free booze flowing, and the band was amazing. I chatted with some interesting people, danced a little bit, and ate and drank to my heart's content. When I got back to the cabin it was nearly 1:30. Melissa woke up when I crawled into bed, went to the bathroom, and turned on the cabin light. She wanted to talk. But, me being a little bit tipsy, and her being very emotional at the time, we chose to fight instead of talking. Before long, she told me to get out of the cabin and find somewhere else to sleep.

"Like hell," I said. "If you want to be away from me, you find somewhere else to sleep. Good night."

With that, she swore up a storm at me, and to my shock, walked out of the room, wearing nothing more than her flimsy satin teddy with a bum-length, tiny see-through satin wrap over top of it. What a fool I was, my beautiful wife had put on some of her sexiest negligee, in a clear invitation for us to make up and fuck the night away, and instead of taking her up on it, I got into a fight with her and threw her out the door. Damn.

I lay on the bed thinking through the argument, thinking about Melissa, our life together, the kids, the cruise, everything. Before long, I noticed that she had been gone nearly an hour. I was worried, where on earth would a half naked woman go on a boat like this. So I got up, got dressed and went out the door in search of my wife.

The ship was pretty deserted this time of night. I didn't even see any crew around, let alone passengers. One of the perks of so small a ship – privacy. I didn't have to look very far to find Melissa though, she was leaning on a railing on the front starboard of the ship, just looking out at the water and the moon, shivering cold in the crisp night air.

From the deck above her, I stopped and looked at my wife's amazing silhouette, backlit by the full moon. She was wonderful, her long legs, creamy white and just a little bit soft and chubby up top, her thighs starting to flatten and spread with age. Her full hips, signaling her fertility and womanhood, contrasted her narrow waist ever so nicely. I could even see the smooth sheen of her upper arms, round and tight, but no longer muscular. All this topped off with her shiny blonde hair, straight and silky. I was married to one hot piece of ass.

I sat down on the deck above her, my legs hanging over the edge, and just looked at her. I thought again about our fight, and how foolish it was of me to be so stubborn. Time for me to get up and apologize.

But before I could stand up, a tall black man approached my wife from behind, his eyes glued to her shapely bum as he walked up to her. He looked to be about 25 or so, maybe six foot one, a bit taller than me, and quite fit. I recalled noticing him as I got on the boat, he was one of the crewmen, a deckhand or something. I froze in my seat and my stomach dropped a little bit, me being the jealous type. I had to know what this was all about. I could hear their voices quite clearly, in the night air, but the breeze broke them up, so I only caught snippets of their conversation.

"Great night out, ain't it ma'am?" he asked. "You ok or what? It's pretty cold out here."

Melissa was in no mood for small talk, apparently, because she got philosophical right away. Looking up at him, she started "Why can men be such jerks?" She had been thinking about me, about us, all night, I guess. Same as me. "He's an asshole" she said. "He hates me, I know it."

The wind picked up, so I lost some of the conversation, but from the bits and pieces I could hear, it was clear that she was filling him in on our story, about our ongoing fight. The black guy was smooth. He listened attentively, and offered all kinds of supporting words.

"He IS an asshole." I heard him say. "What a jerk." The wind blew on in gusts. "A woman like you should be treated like a princess." More wind, as she continued telling him the story.

"But you're so beautiful and friendly. What kind of man would fight with someone as special as you?"

He was feeding her all the right lines that an angry, hurt, drunk woman wanted to hear, to make herself think she was special, that she was right. He was feeding her all the right lines to get between her legs, is what he was doing. And from my wife's constant glances up at him, from the way she kept brushing her shiny hair out of her face as she talked to him, from the way she turned her sultry legs inwards, subconsciously signally submission to his strength, he was having quite a bit of success with my pretty white wife, with the mother of my children.

This guy had had a job that probably gave him lots of experience in seducing married white women, so recognizing the possibilities offered by a drunk, lonely female passenger on a romantic ship in the middle of the night, the deck hand made his move, and he made it ever so smoothly. Melissa shivered in the cold night air, and rubbed her arms vigorously. The guy took off his track jacket and put it around her glistening, porcelain white shoulders, leaving his arm around her and pulling her tiny frame closer to his large, warm, black body. My cock sprung to life, even as my heart raced in fear of what was happening right in front of my eyes. My wife was being seduced by a black man right in front of my very eyes.

"You ok Melissa? I mean really, are you ok?" I heard him ask.

"No, I'm cold and tired, is what I am," she replied.

His muscular black arm still around her shoulders, the deck hand turned to face my wife. Melissa, still drunk, still angry and now good and horny thanks to the deck hand's words of support, instinctively turned towards him as well, looking for affirmation, warmth, and protection. They kissed. My heart sank even deeper. I should do something, call out, but I was frozen. That was my wife kissing that black man, but it was her decision to do this, I had to face that. I had to give her the chance to make her own decision to stay faithful to me.

They broke their kiss, pulled back and looked at each other. It was an erotic contrast, my small, voluptuous blonde wife in her skimpy negligee, looking up at a tall muscular black man, holding him as he held her. With the full moon you could see the glimmer of our wedding ring on her tiny hand, as she rubbed it tenderly against the guy's strong forearm.

"Do you really think I'm smart?" she pathetically baited him.

"Smart, strong, beautiful, desirable," he replied, perfectly.

They kissed hard, their hands frantically exploring each other's shoulder's and backs as he pulled her small body closer to him. I could see her spread her creamy thighs ever so slightly as he inserted his right leg between her legs, prodding his package against her pelvis. Drunk and overwhelmed by the attention, my wife ground her loins against his erection as their tongues swirled in each others' mouths.

Her arms wrapped around his large shoulders as he rubbed her back, and his hand slid down to her pretty bum, rubbing it, squeezing it, then pulling her closer to him.

"Let's go below decks and get you warmed up," he finally said.

Melissa responded by sort of lightly shrieking, a huge smile coming across her face as she reveled in the glory of being desired. This wonderful man was giving her the attention and flattery that her husband had been denying her, and as a reward, she was going to give him the carnal delights that he had worked so hard to win.

They walked off arm in arm and went inside. My stomach was in knots. That was my wife, the mother of my children, drunk and pissed off at me, in a romantic setting with a handsome, muscular, comforting black man. I was in shock.

After a couple minutes, I regained control of my senses and my body. I stood up and took my bearings, then I raced around the ship looking for them. They were probably in the crew quarters, I thought, but I had no idea where those were. I raced from deck to deck, up stairs, down stairs, through doors, but I couldn't find them anywhere. The ship seemed so deserted at night, I remember thinking.

Finally, I saw a sign that said "No access. Crew only. Silent hours in effect." I'd found them. I stepped through a doorway into a long corridor with doors down each side. It was deserted and quiet.

But I had no idea what this guys name was, what his rank was, or where he lived. My wife could be in any of these rooms right now, or even on another deck. Soon it would be too late, and she will have taken that man between her legs, had his sperm sprayed deep into her precious, moist womb.

I listened at each door, terrified that someone would come into the hallway or would open the door as I pressed my ear to it. But I heard nothing, except the occasional snorer. At least that showed me that I could hear through the doors, though. I kept going from door to door.

There was a bulkhead door halfway down the corridor. I stepped through it listened at the door on the right side of the hallway, but heard nothing. Then, at the door on the left side, right past the bulkhead door, I heard my wife's voice. I'd found her.

She was talking low and slowly, in broken phrases, and I could actually hear her deep breathing. I sounded to me like they were kissing and talking, kissing and talking. My cock was hard as forged iron right then, visualizing my pretty blonde wife lying beside that large black man, stroking each other's sides and faces as they started their foreplay.

I heard the black guy's voice. "You ready for this, baby?"

Melissa giggled. I can picture her pretty face, smiling as she looks downwards towards the floor, her chin in her chest, not wanting to make a decision. She prefers men to make decisions for her. Well, the black guy made a decision for my wife all right.

I heard them kiss again, then I could hear the soft rustle of clothes falling to the floor. He complimented her body, saying how nice her tits were, how flat her stomach was, how he loved her smooth alabaster skin. Then I could make out the rustling of sheets and the creaking of a rusty bedspring. They must have be lying down on the bed, their bodies struggling for position against one another.

Low moans and hums filled the room, and I heard my wife gasp for air. Then there was silence. Finally, a slurping sound, then a low grunts from the deck hand. She was sucking his cock.

"Fuck ya," he said. "Oh god Melissa you are so beautiful, your hair is so soft, your skin so supple."

This is my wife he was talking to, my lithe white blond wife, I could picture her pretty mouth wrapped around his huge black shaft, wet with her spit, as she bobbed up and down along its length. The slurping continued for several minutes, interrupted by an occasional moan of pleasure from the black guy, then I heard the deck hand tell my wife to stop, that he was too close. I heard more rustling sheets, and the bed creaked a few times, like they were changing positions, then everything went quiet for a minute, and I wondered what was happening on the other side of the door.

Finally, Melissa cried out "Oh fuck."

"Oh shit that's tight" he immediately responded. He must have been putting his thick black shaft into her tiny pussy, entering the moist sanctuary that only my cock was supposed to have access to. My wife, the mother of my children, was giving herself to another man. I could imagine the contrast of his dark skin on top of her pasty white flesh, their cheeks touching, her small hands resting on his strong back, her wedding ring glowing in the pale light of the room as he plundered her womanhood, as he claimed my wife's womb as his own, penetrating depths beyond those that my cock had ever reached, stretching her tight cunt beyond recognition.

There was rhythmic pounding as he found his pace and started to fuck my wife in earnest, applying long deep strokes to her small frame, her pussy slowly stretching to adjust to his size. As she got used to having his larger member inside her, she started to enjoy the sex, and I heard her moans, her wails, the muffled noises coming from her mouth as he kissed her to drown out her pleas. Then more pounding, and creaking bed springs, creaking at a ridiculous rate as he rode her faster and faster.

Urgent shrieks escaped from my Melissa, he must have been tearing her apart, splitting her tiny frame in half. I could picture her creamy white thighs spread wide alongside his massive torso, her tiny feet hanging in the air above his wide back, his long dark sword piercing her greasy snatch.

"Oh yes, oh you're so fucking big. Fuck me, tear me, use me, pound me, show my husband how to treat a woman. It serves him right, show him how beautiful and fuckable I am. Ooohhaa."

Her words were broken and muffled as she stuttered out between breaths, "Cum in me, that will show him that I'm desired by other men. Fill me with your black seed, put your black baby juice deep inside me, deeper than any man's ever been. I'm yours, my body is yours, my womb is yours, fill me with your baby, put your strong black baby inside me so my tiny white belly stretches with your bastard child. I want the whole world to see your black child slide out from between my legs, so they know that a hung black stud climbed on top of my soft white stomach and used my tight white cunt for his carnal pleasure. Show them that I can have any man I want. Pump me hard pump me with your seed."

Stimulated by her words, the deckhand roared. I could visualize his back spasming as he flooded her fertile womb with his juices, spraying her hot churning innards with his cream. He grabbed her soft ass and pulled her pelvis hard against his loins, bruising her crotch as he emptied his load into her. Her pussy squeezed tight around his throbbing member, milking every last drop of his semen into her dark nether regions.

I heard my wife thank him profusely, her breathing coming back to normal as he slowed the rate of his thrusts, tenderly ending their sex act. Then things settled down. He held her ass tightly, still spurting, still trying to extend his orgasm, not wanting to vacate Melissa's warm, loving pussy. They kissed and exchanged tender words.

I was devastated, my marriage was in tatters, my wife, drunk, used and wet, was lying beneath the frame of a large black man who has just split her pussy wide open and filled her with his sperm. What a nightmare.

I went back to my room in absolute emotional turmoil, not sure what to do next, lay down on the bed and stared off into space. This was unreal. I knew that they were still lying together, kissing and stroking each other, laughing about me. His large black hands roaming freely over her damp, tender skin, her tiny hands furiously pumping his enormous cock, trying desperately to get him hard again, so she could enjoy another plundering by this massive stud that she'd stumbled across, so she could take another load of his potent juices into her fertile womb and give life to his seed.

But to my surprise, Melissa came into the cabin, only about a half an hour after I'd got there, crying.

I stood up to face her.

"You're a bastard. All men are bastards. What can I do? You're all bastards." She buried her face in my chest, crying and sobbing as I rubbed the small of her back, confused but trying to comfort her.

I then realized that once the deck hand was done using my wife, he must have told her to fuck off. He must have kicked her out. The poor woman. She turned to this guy for support and encouragement in the wake of her husband's verbal abuse, and he totally played her emotions just to get between her legs. She must have felt so stupid and useless. I felt bad for her, even though she'd just cheated on me.

She pulled away from me and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower running.

When she came out, she lay down beside me in the bed, sniffling and crying, and we embraced. I told her that I might be a bastard but that I was the bastard who loves her and will love her forever. She hugged me and buried her head in my chest, and told me that she loved me too. I couldn't imagine what was going through her head. She knew she loved me, but she had just taken a total stranger inside her, had just spread her legs and fucked him like a teenaged porn star.

Still hard from witnessing her infidelity, I rolled on top of her and we made up from our fight. We made love, the second time in a matter of about an hour that a man had climbed between her creamy white thighs and spilt his seed inside her. If she does get pregnant tonight, I hope it's a white baby that slides out from between her legs.