Wife Turns Slut For Husband

byDirty Slut©

“You’ve never been with a Nig… er… that is black man, have you?” Jamul’s question coming out more like a statement after closing the door behind me helped ease away some of my anxiety.

“Never had the opportunity,” I replied. “All the guys in my high school were white. And Billy proposed to me before I could go off to college.”

“And Billy, what about him? You told me online that this was all his idea. Is that true?”

“Well, not entirely all of his idea. He said that he wanted to watch me getting screwed by other men. I assumed he meant other white men. That is until I found him online at the web site you and I met at. From that point I took over.”

“Curiosity?” He inquired, and that’s when there was a knocking at the door by room service, the drinks had arrived.

He paid for the drinks, and that gave me the time I needed to make my decision.

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes?” He asked putting down the tray, then holding out my drink.

“To your question,” I giggled, taking my drink, and gulping half of it straight down. “It was curiosity that made me contact you. Curiosity that made me agree to this date. And it’s still curiosity that’s got me wondering what that bulge of yours really looks like out in the open, and in person.

“You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?” He inquired, and I knew that this was in the form of a question this time.

“Okay,” I said. Then I took a moment to set my drink down as he hung up his suit coat, and untied his tie.

Once he was settled on the edge at the foot of his bed, sitting up, and facing me, I simply reached down, and lifted the hem of my dress. His eyes didn’t bulge out of their sockets, but his gaze was the most intense I’d ever felt as he looked at my bare, bald pussy from less than three feet away, and let out a low rumbling wolf whistle.

“Damn baby!” His voice was filled with respect, and adoration, but hardly raised above a whisper. “That’s what I call eaten pussy.”

“I’ve heard it called that before,” I giggled, and not bothering to lower the hem of my dress added; “now your turn.”

Jamul wasted no time getting out of his shirt, and pants shucking his shoes in the process. When he was down to his silk black boxers I was already panting. Then turning away he lowered his shorts letting them puddle to the floor before turning to give me more than an eye full of his equipment. I stared open mouthed, and I’m sure I had the stupidest expression on my face as drool formed around my lips at the sight of his onyx monolith. And it was only at half-mast at that.

“You… you’ve got… to be kidding!” I stammered. “That belongs on a horse, not a human!”

In retrospect I suppose it was just the shock of seeing my first uncircumcised penis that made it look so huge, but the damn thing was bigger than any cock I’d ever seen in my life, and lived up to the legend, and then some. Not quite as long as my forearm, or as thick as my wrist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was damn near three times bigger than Billy’s noodle, and twice the cock of most men I’d ever known.

“Damn! What do you need me, or any woman for that matter? It looks big enough for you to suck on all by yourself.”
“I’m not gay,” and he chuckled at his own joke. “Besides, I like women, remember? Wanna touch it?”

“I don’t know Jamul,” but I reached out anyway, and in so doing let go of the hem of my dress so that it fell back into place. It felt soft, like crushed velvet, and though not hard, it was getting stiff, and very heavy like a whole bunch of bananas clustered together to make one.

“Go ahead, play with it, jerk me off if you like,” he suggested.

It was so weird the way his foreskin reacted when I pulled down along the length of his shaft as if I were peeling it away from the deep purple/black headed treasure knob underneath. My eyes already wide as I held him went wider still, I’m sure. My face drew closer, and closer with each passing second. It was as if I held the entire night in my two hands, and all of the stars had winked out of sight displacing time and space forever.

My tongue came out, and I took a swipe at the uncovered head to taste it, then pulled back sharply after realizing what I had just done. All of my sensibilities exploding into nova dots that flashed before my eyes. And suddenly I had the whole head of his cock in my mouth, and headed half way down my throat before I realized that I was down on my knees sucking lustily on a mere total stranger’s big black prick.

I had to use both of my hands around the shaft as I sucked on it to keep from gagging, but by then Jamul had lifted me up, and turned me inverted so that I was squatting over his face. Just the touch of his tongue rasping against my clit set off another explosion, this time multiple mini orgasms that shorted out every grating nerve ending in my body. I could hardly scream rape now what with his cock in my mouth, and his tongue drilling up my sweltering slit, now could I? Nor was I inclined to at that moment. But just the same I felt like the married white slut Billy had wanted me to turn into right then. And the feeling just kept growing deep inside of me as I followed Jamul’s lead, and stuck my tongue up his black ass, and screamed through the tidal wave of convulsions that overwhelmed me right then. Making me mash my pussy down hard on Jamul’s face for all I was worth, and wriggling my butt like a real bitch in heat.

I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember is I was flat on my back looking up at Jamul’s soiled face, and feeling as though I’d skydived cunt first onto a telephone pole.

“Oh GOD! NO MORE!” I cried out.

“Easy baby, it’s all in you now,” Jamul’s voice like a soothing balm on a boil about to pop. “Just relax, I know you feel stretched out, but babies come out of there, and I ain’t no where near that big.”

He was right of course, but it still felt like two somebody’s had shoved their hands up my pussy, and were trying to applaud while in there. However Jamul gave me plenty of time to let my body get accustomed to that awesome girth, and length of his by just laying still over top of me resting his weight on his arms for good measure. A patient lover, and one only concerned with their partner’s pleasure first always gets their way. And soon my pussy began to lubricate again as it got over the shock of being stretched out to the size of Lake Erie.

I was already perspiring profusely, my flesh a sheen of salty meltdown when Jamul eased back out of me slightly, then eased all the way back in.

“Easy stud,” I joked, “you ain’t out in the field with one of the brood mares now.”

“I’m in no rush,” and his dazzling toothy smile amongst a sea of black was a reassurance that helped me to relax even more.

My cunt was so packed full of his cock that it was making little pussy fart noises, and I’m sure I blushed every time I heard them. But it gave me the time to realize the stark contrast in coloring that the two of us most surely would represent to anyone looking on when we copulated, and I got an instant thrill rushing through me realizing that I was indeed going to fuck Jamul in front of my husband Billy in the very near future. And I began to heave my hips up to meet every downward thrust of Jamul’s then. My arms and legs snaking around my black lover like new white nylon ropes on a boat. In effect hauling him into me harder with each thrust so that I could feel the entire length of that onyx monolith skewering into me. My finger nails raking his back each time his teeth bit at one of my nipples through my thin dress causing me to explode into the next dementia of orgasms.

We fucked for hours, and hours upon eternity’s pouting lips with me orgasming every five minutes or so, and Jamul only cuming twice before dawn sprinkled day light into his room once in my pussy, and once, (I hardly believe it myself.), in my ass. Yes, he took me in the ass that very first night, just so that I could go home and tell Billy that a strange black man had fucked me in every hole that I own. Did it hurt? Don’t be silly, of course it hurt. Try sticking an eggplant up YOUR butt with a little KY, and see how it feels. Funny thing is though, I’ve never felt so completely lude, crude, raunchy and downright filthy as I did when I had that big black cock of his up my tight white ass, and that too is the truth. And it’s probably also why I climaxed so hard when he did it.

We couldn’t take our hands off of each other after that. And when I said I had to go home Jamul insisted on going with me, even knowing that we would probably end up in my marriage bed performing for my husband’s amusement. So that when we walked in the door I looked like hell burnt over, I’m sure, as I’d never bothered to take off my dress the whole time. The right strap on my dress had torn sometime during one of our tussles, and my nylons had so many runs in them that they looked like wolves had attacked me. And my hair had that wind tunnel look it was so disheveled.

“Are you oka…” Billy’s voice trailed off as Jamul followed me inside closing the door behind him as he did to keep prying eyes away, if that were possible.

“You must be Billy,” Jamul said putting out his bear claw like hand, and swallowing Billy’s in the process. My husband was actually shaking in his slippers as he stood there in his pajama bottoms, mouth gaped open, eyes wide, and about to piss all over himself.

“Uh… er… yes… I am,” was all he could stutter in reply.

“I’m Jamul. Your wife’s new Nigger lover? We thought we’d drop by and give you a little show. You know, sort of a thank you for turning this sweet tight white ass of hers over to me in the first place.” And for emphasis Jamul cupped my ass in his left hand insinuating his middle finger up my slit from behind in the process. “Is it true what she tells me? That this was all your idea?”

“Um, well, yeah, but…,” Billy was so beside himself it looked like he was about to faint.

“Well I for one am glad to meet the luckiest bastard in the world,” Jamul was almost cooing like a pigeon as he laid it on thick for my husband. “I guess you can go get into your sissy maid’s costume now while we go use the shower. I’ll have bacon and eggs for breakfast, with orange juice on the side.”

“I’ll have the same,” I said flatly, and showed Jamul the way to the bathroom leaving Billy standing awestruck there in our front room watching Jamul’s black hand fondle my naked white ass possessively until we were out of sight. I’m sure our laughter followed him all the way to our bedroom as he went to change, and prepare our breakfast.

“So, how’d I do?” Jamul asked once we were in the privacy of the bathroom.

“You nearly made him piss all over himself,” which is when we started laughing.

“Hey, he wanted this, remember? Might as well give him the royal fantasy, right?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, and shedding my clothes turned on the shower, naked for the first time if front of my black lover.

“Damn baby! If you’d of been my wife I’d have hid you in a tower, locked you in a chastity suit, and laid land mines to boot.”
“If that’s your way of saying that you like what you see, then I’ll accept that as a compliment.”

“It’s all of that,” he chuckled, then joined me in the shower, “you ain’t nothing but fine all over!” And for the first time since we’d met our bodies came together totally naked, and we kissed for the very first time.

His thicker lips felt as if they could have swallowed my face whole in their billowy embrace, and his talented tongue tickled the roof of my mouth like butterfly wings driving me insane with unfettered sensual heat all over. My hands going to that great truncheon like battering ram of his, as his hands alternated back and forth from fondling my ass, to playing with my breasts, tweaking my nipples.

Now that I knew for certain that I could take him in every hole that I owned I wanted him like I never had wanted any other man in my life. But to be fair to Billy we mostly just teased each other as we washed each other there in the shower. Jamul even shampooing my long hair for me, while I held his cock between my thighs, and felt it throb wildly against my seething slit from behind was a delightfully raunchy experience that I thoroughly suggest trying at least once for any married white wife turned slut. And oh yes, by then I considered myself no better than the perfect married white slut in Jamul’s black hands.

By the time we entered the adjoining bedroom Billy was gone, and the smell of bacon on a skittle frying permeated the house. But neither Jamul, nor I were hungry for anything other than each other by then, and he lifted me straight up, and carried me over to my marriage bed. Then laid me down gently before trailing his lips down along my body all the way to my curled up toes. When he returned northward, I spread my legs wide in open greeting, and held his shaved head tightly to the opening of my womb as his tongue once again entered my sanctuary, and tasted of my drooling lower lips. No man I’d ever been with had ever eaten my pussy with such simpatico as Jamul, and I was soon writhing, wriggling my hips, and shaking my ass in his face as my whole body swooned in the gathering storm of pre-coital orgasmic bliss.

As before in his hotel room he entered me with a total concern for my well being, and my pleasure. However, now that I had been stretched out to accommodate his massive manhood earlier, the going went much smoother this time. To the point where I was actually begging him:

“Oh yeah, ram it all the way in,” I sighed, my arms and legs wrapping around him again to help pull him into me.

The feeling of yet again having a long freight train entering my tunnel of lust had me panting like the bitch in heat I’d become with Jamul’s big black cock. Forgotten were my words to Billy that size didn’t really matter. With an experienced compassionate lover like Jamul his size was an added blockbuster bonus that no lottery prize could ever match. And it was at that point, as I realized that we had company, that I knew what the words; “Nigger Lover,” really meant, even if the “N” word left a brackish taste in my mouth. Because I could see the look on Billy’s face as he stood in the doorway in his sissy maid’s costume staring in at his white wife as a black man’s big black cock stretched out my pussy like his never would. It wasn’t that Jamul’s dick overwhelmed me so much as it consumed me with a fiery passion, a wanton lust the likes of which, well, I’d never known existed in me before.

All of those stories that I’d read on that interracial site, and thought how completely ridiculous they had seemed all came flooding down along the full length of my fuck funnel now. And seeing Billy put down our tray of food before he started jerking off under his petty coats made it all the more real to me. Billy really did look quite feminine, and pretty in that French Maid’s outfit. All he needed was some boobs, and a pussy, some makeup, and longer hair, but otherwise he could have passed for a woman if you didn’t know better.

“We’ve got company,” I finally whispered, and nodded towards my husband.

“Isn’t she cute,” Jamul stated loud enough for Billy to hear. Then louder added; “Hey faggot, come on over here, I want you to put that tongue of yours where it will do the most good.”

I could only barely believe it when Billy did Jamul’s bidding without hesitating. The feel of my husband’s tongue, and lips at our connection spiraled me into the next universe, then off into the next dimension. There was no doubt in my mind that he was doing the same thing to Jamul’s cock as it sawed in and out of my honey dew like a ragging bull out of control. And knowing that my husbands face was plastered to Jamul’s black ass as I was being fucked tickled me like nothing else could have at that moment. I actually couldn’t wait to see what Billy thought of me taking that huge black cock up my ass, but then there was plenty of time for that. After all, we had the rest of the weekend to degrade Billy, and put him where he belonged from now on, down on his hands and knees serving us.

I came even harder, if you can believe that, with Billy participating, and quickly turned into the true hard nosed wanton slut that my husband had begged for. In fact I no longer thought of him as anything more than my maid servant from that moment on. And I vowed to have him get breast implants, and a full feminine make over at his own expense as soon as possible.

“Can I gather that you’ve never been gang banged either?” Jamul asked then interrupting my train of thought.

“No, not really,” I replied.

“Want to be?”

It was refreshing to be asked first what I wanted, and I was thankful that Jamul had been my first visit to the world of intimate interracial relationships. His gentle giant demeanor, educated tongue, and fascinating manhood was exactly the thing I needed to become what my husband had lusted after. And what I had only dared to dream of before now. So that when I finally did answer his question it was with all of my heart.

“Yes, I’d love to try that. As long as Billy can watch, of course.”

“Of course,” and he actually giggled right along with me.

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