The Gymnasium

In The Gymnasium

1.

My husband Clifton is a Baptist minister and since we've been married his career has gone from being an assistant in a small town church to later taking over the growing parish in his own right. His involvement increased when he started coaching the under-age soccer team and taking a 'Religious Instruction' class at the local high school as well as conducting weddings and funerals.

There were occasions when I would take the R.I. classes on the Fridays if Clifton had other commitments. After one of these occasions, as I was dismissing the class and tidying up the desks and mess made by the students, there was polite a knock on the open classroom door. A short very slim black man with a pleasant smile stood there wearing a flannel shirt, overalls and work boots with a toolbox in his hands.

I looked up from my desk and said 'Yes?'

'Hello. I'm Vernon. I'm supposed to set up The Gym for a documentary showing tonight. I'll need about 25 minutes to get a screen and a projector in the Gym with 60 chairs. Will you be here to lock up after I leave?'

'Yes, I'll finish up here, then come over and let you out in about 30 minutes. Will that be alright?'

'Sure. Could you show me where the gym is please?'

'Yes'. I offered my hand and he took it in a firm handshake. 'Follow me. My name's Eve'.

He picked up his projector and I offered to carry the screen by its carry handle and he followed me through the school corridors to the school gymnasium. I was dressed modestly as usual, but I'm told I have a very pleasing walk. When I was young, I was proficient at sports and have remained interested in fitness and yoga and keep my body in good condition. Your body is a gift and I think it is a gesture of thanks to look after your gifts. I had the feeling Vernon was enjoying the view as he followed me along the corridor.

I opened the door and held it wide and invited him in. He caught my eye with half a smile on his face as he slowly moved through the doorway very close to me, careful not to knock the projector on the door frame. I'm sure he could smell my faint perfume as he passed by and I had the distinct feeling he wasn't wearing anything under his overalls. The slit on the side that gives the wearer access to pockets worn underneath gaped open.

I felt my face flush as I could see his black skin at the top of his leg in contrast to his khaki overalls. This would have been perfectly modest in most circumstances and I would not be aware had he not passed by so closely. But now I was fighting off the arousal that felt very unseemly for the wife of a Baptist minister.

I excused myself as I left him abruptly and returned to my classroom to try and recover my composure.

I told myself it was only a series of coincidences that affected my senses. Had he not passed so closely a half smile would just be friendly, and I would not have seen his bare leg gape in the side of his overalls.

After a few minutes, I composed myself and had returned to 'normal'.

2.

I began to think, 'What harm is done? I caught a glimpse of perfectly modest bare skin. If it thrilled me a little, it means I'm normal. If I see anything like that again, I will enjoy it for what it is and remain as chaste as I ever was. It is part of creation in the end anyway'.

Later, when I'd finished my after class chores, I returned to the gym to let Vernon out and lock up after him. He was trying to loop an electric cord over a vacant picture hook on the gymnasium wall and he couldn't reach.

'Hi Eve. I'll be ready to leave in a moment. I need something to reach this lead up'.

Before I could think I said, 'You could lift me and I can loop it over if you like.'

'Thank you! That would make it easier.'

He stood leaning back against the wall and handed me the loop. He placed his hand on his thigh. I tried to lift my foot up to his hand. My skirt was too tight to lift my knee, so I hitched it up to my thighs to give me more movement. With my hands on his shoulders, he steadied me with his other hand at the top of my thigh and I felt very secure in his strength.

But there was something else. His hands touching my legs, was a huge flirt. It was giving me all these dizzy feelings. I decided to just enjoy it. The light pressure from his thumb found the crease between my leg and the edge of my genital area and I was aroused to another degree as he lowered me back to the floor.

I found myself wanting to touch him, desperate to find an excuse to thank him for his work, anything. I was also hoping I would not get the chance because I would not like my husband to be thinking the way I was. I was in a state of feverish lust and was ready to do anything Vernon could think of. I could feel a sticky wetness spreading between my legs and I absently undid buttons on my cardigan until the lace at the top of my bra was visible. It took all my resolve to stop myself from pleading desperately to be ravished.

Vernon appeared to be as shy as me.

'There's one more to lift it up to; the opening at the last ventilator. I'll need to carefully lift it above the cover,' he explained. I followed him the end of the wall where the vent was and he stood on the edge of the stage, reaching up to place the cord over the vent. The cord wouldn't remain on the sloping cover so he would need his adhesive gaffer tape.

'It's in my tool box I think,' he explained, inclining his head towards the door, hinting I could retrieve it for him.

I obediently returned to the door where his toolbox was but I couldn't see it. Both of his hands were busy as he was balancing himself while holding the cord in place. 'I don't think it's here,' I called across the room.

'Oh! I think have it here. Can you get it out of my pocket for me please?'

3.

I returned to where he was balanced on the edge of the stage and reached into his pocket for the adhesive tape. I felt a cucumber like shape in his pocket that seemed to be inflating. Somehow, I had slid my hand through the opening that gave him access to clothes worn underneath his overalls, where this time, I had forgotten, he wasn't wearing any. I realised with a rude shock, I was holding his thing in my hand. I could feel my face burning as if it had caught fire and in my petrified shock I forgot to release my grasp on his obscene rigid swollen cock.

I vaguely heard an amused voice talking about a socket or something. Spluttering as I recovered my presence of mind, Vernon was saying 'I think you're looking in the wrong pocket.'

'Oh my almighty God. What did I do? I'm really sorry. I, I . . . I thought it was a cucumber or something. I'm so embarrassed'.

'No harm done'. He gave me a long slow look as if acknowledging a 'moment'. 'The pocket is in the overalls', he said. When I reached into his overalls to retrieve the tape, I could feel his hard cock and my rising lust made concentrating on the task at hand almost impossible.

He quickly attached the cord to the ventilation cover and plugged the end of the cord into the power outlet with the illuminated tester on the other end. 'There's plenty of power there,' he said, turning his back to me.

'Are you aroused too?' I heard someone asking. It must have been me as I was the only other person present.

He turned and looked at me, 'Very,' he said looking intently into my eyes. 'I have been since I met you at the classroom door. It seems to me you're watching me. Could it be that you would like this to go a little further Eve?' He began unfastening the buttons holding his overalls in place. 'Would you mind if I touch you?' Two more buttons. He continued, 'I would love to touch you but if you stop me nothing will happen.'

His overalls were open to the last stud and I could see his curly pubic hair decorating the base of a very thick black prick. It was suspended sideways inside his overalls, but it was hardening again and fighting for space. I had never seen another man's penis beside the five inches long member Clifton routinely slid into me once a week by arrangement on Tuesday mornings since we were married, four and a half years ago. The sight of a black one was like an exotic taboo shock to me.

The primal part of me wanted him to touch me everywhere preferably without my permission. I was stuck, speechless and caught between fear and desire. The black man was moving towards me and I was hypnotised, unable to move. He stepped up close and unfastened one button on my cardigan. I covered the next button with my hands. It seemed like nothing else would happen if I left my hands there.

4.

He put his hands gently on mine without pressure. Then he gradually but lightly grasped my hands and removed them and, button by button, my resistance evaporated. My cardigan was in his hand. I stood before him in my sensible bra and long woollen skirt. He continued slowly disrobing me, removing my skirt. I was now displaying my modest thigh length underpants.

He removed his shirt and overalls in one movement and placed them carefully on the floor with my skirt and top partly obscuring his overalls. Apart from his boots, he was naked in front of me. He was standing there without any clothes on in front of the minister's wife with the gymnasium door wide open.

His slim frame, although very toned looked vulnerable. But his rigid, very thick seven inch long penis was like a menacing truncheon, standing vertical, pulsing in time to his heart beating as if threatening me, demanding satisfaction.

I stared at it in awe.

With all of our clothes draped over his arm, he laid them down forming a mat on the floor. In his shaking smoky voice, he instructed me to take off my bra and underpants., and stood back and watched me. I felt he was making me responsible for what ever happened next.

I stood still for a full minute before slowly removing my bra and I held my shoulders back. Had I had made a deliberate gesture to prompt him I was available? . . . . And for what?

He smiled an encouraging smile at me. I've always thought my body was too skinny and now Vernon could see my small round breasts, but he seemed to like what he saw. Now my hips and my pubic area were all there was left to his imagination. Do I allow myself to be naked with this black stranger?

'Are you afraid of me Eve?'

'Yes I am. I'm afraid of what a thick monstrous club like yours could do to me. It's too big. . . . . And I'm afraid of me'.

He smiled a reassuring smile and he said, 'I'm going to take your pants down.' Pants down means totally naked and vulnerable with my vagina visible. Does it also mean my vagina is available? That question shocked me like a slap in the face. The phrase, 'take your pants down ' carried a new degree of familiarity I was not used to.

I seemed to be crossing one threshold after another. I couldn't answer. He wanted verbal consent. As if I was disembodied, I removed myself from the situation but still heard my voice respond, shocking me with a surprising, 'Yes please. Take my pants down'.

What was I doing? My body reclaimed my soul and I was faced with a man able to see my bare pubic area, and with all but tacit permission to fuck me.

He removed my underpants and we were both more than ready to fuck, but at odds weather to or not. He took my hand and he laid down next to his overalls holding his throbbing swollen prick at the base positioning it vertically. Then he closed his eyes and removed his hand and laced his fingers behind his head. He totally trusted himself to accept whatever I wanted to do to him.

I was mesmerised by his thick 5½" circumference cock and straddled him looking down at its pulsing urgency. I bent down and held it in my hand. It was so hard, so thick, so BLACK. I noted the complete contrast of my small pink hand and the menacing virile black man's fucking instrument. I wondered what it would be like to bite the end off and keep it in my mouth forever.

I lowered myself closer and closer to it. I was caught between the wicked adultery of receiving another penis inside me, and the pure blameless fidelity of my commitment and the sacred love I had for my devoted husband.

I knew what I had to do. I knew Vernon wouldn't hold it against me if I withdrew and dressed and left him to lock up the high school gymnasium. That thought was the way out of this situation. I was relieved and proud of my presence of mind.

But I thought I would at least like to see what it would be like to feel the end of a stiff black penis to touch my nether region. The feel of it in my hand felt like I was holding the power of the universe. I lowered my body closer, squatting, hovering above Vernon's big throbbing prick, feeling it pulsing in my hand. As I touched his organ to the sopping lips of my craving sex, a shock of desire coursed through me. Suspended above his throbbing black instrument, I wondered at the contrast to my pale skin and the pink flesh of my exposed sex.

5.

Maybe an orgasm could relieve my morbid desire. What if I just rubbed the head of his cock over my clitoris for a climax, then walk away still not fucked and relatively innocent. I ploughed the lips of my drenched vagina with the engorged tip of his soaked member. My legs were turning to jelly, but a climax seemed to be infuriatingly, just beyond my reach. My head stopped functioning and my wicked conduct reared up and dealt me a harsh reminder of who I was.

At the same time I was becoming overwhelmed with a new and frightening lust to be fucked. But that grotesquely swollen cock would have to force it's way into me, and that looked very unlikely.

I wanted to leave. I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was. But I was consumed with carnal desire. I lowered myself onto that menacing stick. I knew I was about to be stretched between my legs wider than I had ever been before. I couldn't stop myself. I was giving in to unadulterated lust that could cost me my reputation, my wonderful husband and every thing in my life that was important to me. I put that thought aside and tried to deal with my demanding hunger, the adulterous impulse hovering at the edge of my consciousness.

I added a little weight to the rigid hardness probing for an opening and felt my vagina lips begin to give way. The throbbing end of his hard instrument did not yield to my weight. I pushed down further wishing that this was not a deliberate act. I had still not been penetrated and was technically still only a one-man woman. My head seemed to be disoriented as I began to feel faint, but the stretched lips of my tortured cunt stretched even further. I watched fascinated as the swollen head of his throbbing cock slowly disappeared in my body. I heard Vernon's voice begin to whimper like a hungry puppy.

I felt that menacing cock slowly fill me with shame and flesh, but also a distorted commitment to my own gratification. I hovered above him with the tip of that big black thing inside me. I felt it slowly start reaming in and out of my core as I squatted over it. I had gone too far. As Vernon penetrated my vagina, he began taking his pleasure as he wished. My reassuring innocence vanished. A gate slammed shut behind me and I could never be the same person again.

He slowly slid his tool further inside me and I watched it disappear until it was inside me to the hilt. Our genitals were jammed hard to each other. I could see the hunger of my body devouring a big black cock into my wanton cunt. I couldn't get enough of it. My desire for it triggered a build up of arousal, which I finally began to surrender myself to. Vernon was fucking me and I was accepting it. We were at it like 2 rutting bush pigs. He was grunting while I was squealing.

He abruptly rolled on top of me groaning and grunting. He hugged me as if I was his true love, but he fucked me like an animal in the wild. My climax hit me hard and racked my lower body. I had totally abandoned myself to him. He sounded as if he had been shot. He ejaculated several gushes of semen into me for nearly a minute before he slowly withdrew his still hard, over sized black prick from my pale tortured body.

6.

My thoughts were thunderously loud in the silence.

What have I done? How would I respond to my husband's advances. I had tasted the forbidden fruit of adultery.

I suddenly felt a rush of affection for Clifton. I couldn't wait to see him. I had to be reassured he loved me. I wanted to run naked through the front door of the gym and find my husband and feel his arms around me.

I pushed Vernon away and stood up.

I collected my clothes from the floor and walked to the change room.

I could feel his semen oozing from inside me, down my legs and could feel his gaze at my back.

I stood under the shower and washed his cum away and watched it disappear down the drain with water.

But of course it would not leave my mind.

Later as I drove home, my religious sensibilities replayed the word 'Adulteress' in my mind and I became angry. I cursed my god for the flood of guilt that invaded my soul. I felt the weight of His judgement.

Under my breath, I hissed 'Well Fuck You then'.

I added, 'You're not a part of my marriage while I feel this way. My soul is no longer yours. It's mine. Just turn away and leave me to my-self.' It was the closest I came to a heartfelt prayer that I could remember.

My intent was now focused on fucking more often. I hope it can be with Clifton. One day a week seems like unnecessarily scant rations. Now I want him more than ever but I will need to change his idea that sex is a distraction from God's work. I wanted my husband and I would be careful and keep our habits the same for a few days, but I thought it time for a few changes. I resolved to give the maximum pleasure to my husband's body, however discreetly but at every chance I could find or create. Fucking once a week was insane when there is that much fun to be had. I thought 'This could turn out to be very good.'

In other moments, I thought 'Who else is there who might fuck me?' but perished that thought as it started.