Between the Lines: The Return

To preface this particular story line, as I have in the past: THIS IS ENTIRELY FICTION AND IS NO WAY A REFLECTION OF ANYONE, CERTAINLY NOT I, THE WRITER. It's also not the same sort of erotic fiction I normally produce, so this story may not be for you. If you're looking for over the top supremacist content, this one isn't it. I'll have more on the way soon though.

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-Sam I Am-

I'm not sure that people care, and I suppose it's more for me than it is for them, but I have a story to tell, and that's what writers do... make others suffer through their terrible stories. So let me start by saying this... I am black man married to a white woman, and I'm a serial cheater. I've put my own pleasure ahead of my marriage, and even to the potential detriment of my children, because I'm selfish, and apparently, a bit of sex addict. This has lead me to have affairs with over half a dozen women during my marriage, including Lindsey, Laura, Sarah, Peggy, Linh, Lindsey again, and most recently, Shannon. I'll be honest, I don't know if or when I'll ever stop... sometimes I suspect I'll only stop when I get caught, by which point it will already be too late, but I suppose we're all due our karmic retribution eventually.

Before I proceed, let me quickly explain what caused me to vanish like a black man who just found out he's about to be a father (haha sorry, not sorry). Lindsey had been struggling, having gotten out of a long relationship before returning to our old affair out of a need for closeness, even going so far as to ask me to get her pregnant, swearing she would raise it herself, as she just wanted something beautiful to come from what we had shared. I genuinely considered it, but as someone who operates very carefully, I wasn't about to leave a ticking DNA time-bomb waiting to explode someday to ruin my marriage AND my life. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't live knowing I had a child out there whose life I wasn't part of (so, joke aside, we're not all like that). She didn't take it well, and accused me of never really valuing our relationship, saying that she was just a big secret footnote in my life, and that when our affair ended, it would be like we were never anything at all. I made the mistake of telling her I kept every picture of her, and that I still looked at them from time to time, and I could see the look on her face.

She didn't mind that I had the pictures, she had been the one who either sent them, or agreed to let me take them, but it was evidence, and it could potentially be used to bring me down. I'm not sure if she knew about the other girls I had naked pictures of, the dozens of sex shots chronicling my time as a unrepentant cheater, but it didn't matter... hers were enough. Women can be very dangerous when they want something, and I wasn't going to assume she wouldn't, even if only in her darkest moments, purposely sabotage my marriage with that information. I couldn't risk keeping it anymore. I'm very careful, securing my keepsakes in a hidden file that normally can't be seen inside of another series of inconspicuous folders, and named a technical jargon term that might make a casual viewer who ever even got that far assume it was just routine computer stuff. That included my writing, and my saved logins and passwords. I decided it was time for a purge and eliminated any trace of it. While it may not seem like it, I love my wife, and I didn't want her to have to suffer through knowing any of it. So, gone were the photos, the stories, even my online profiles, one last fond look, and away they went.

Lindsey never did try and sabotage me (at least not yet), and she left, back into trying to move forward with her life again. I had already ceased my affair with Linh as she wanted something more serious, and took to actual dating instead of pressuring me for more. She dated around some, but settled on a fit, lighted skinned black guy who was more her age, and while I'm jealous of being traded in for a younger model, it also pleases me that she went black. Hopefully for good and even more hopefully, because of me. But, enough back story, let's get to the latest part of this particular saga.

-Shannon-

Shannon is... she's something else. She's very alternative, something I haven't really had since Sarah, and is clearly a bi-product of modern college education and the black lives matter movement. She has gauges in her ears, short bleached blonde hair that she keeps in a near pixie cut, thick black plastic glasses, and a series of supposedly meaningful tattoos which range from her arms, to her thighs, shoulders, chest, lower back, and ankles. I know this, because I've cum on more than a few of them. She's thin and fit, maybe even a little lanky, but she has perky white tits with metal rods piercing her nipples, her ass is soft and smooth, and while she isn't down with the idea of me sucking her toes, she's okay with me cumming all over her feet; so, I'm good. She's only 22, making the age difference between us notable, but I'm more than capable of dealing with daddy issues if it means having my dick sucked and fucked by a girl nearly half my age. She's also a big believer in birth control, which allows me to not only go bareback, but cum in her with some frequency, which I also love. She's firmly against ever having kids, so the idea of mistakes don't bother as much either. But, let me give you an idea how it all started.

The scene: A coffee shop, but surprisingly, not a Starbucks.

"Good morning sir, what can I get you today?" Shannon said, lightly wiping her hands on her deep red apron.

"What sounds good to you?" I said, giving her a lightly raised eyebrow.

"Well, we have a new omelette sandwich that comes with..." she started, but I raised a hand to pause her.

"You don't need to give me the sales pitch, what sounds good to YOU?" I said again, smiling slightly.

She paused, a smile breaking out on her own face before glancing over her shoulder to make sure her boss or coworkers, or whoever might dime her out, wasn't present and then turned back to me.

"Honestly, I wouldn't eat or drink anything here. It's not dirty or anything, but the owner is such a knob, and he definitely doesn't promote the kind of workplace worth staying at. You know we don't even get an employee discount?" she said, seeming to love being able to gush her true feelings.

"Sounds like bullshit to me." I said with a grin, "But you know if we all don't buy anything, you won't have a place to work for much longer."

"Hey, whatever, I'm planning on leaving here anyway." she said, shrugging.

"Nice. Where you planning on going? I'd hate to think this was my first and only time seeing you." I said, deciding to lay on some of that old charm.

She laughed at it, but I could tell it landed.

She is an English major and she's thinking about getting into teaching. Color me shocked. You might notice in a few of my stories, the older ones anyway, they feature teachers and nurses, well, there's a reason for that... they're usually pretty slutty. I can't tell you how much I wanted to fuck one of the teachers at my youngest daughter's school, but that sort of pursuit is WAY too close to home. Tangents aside, I asked her what her favorite place to eat was around here, and she told me. I casually asked the last time she was there. She told me it had been a while, as she didn't make a lot of money, and I decided to go ahead and make a casual offer.

"You free on Wednesday? I'm going to check it out either way, but I'd be happy to comp you for the sound advice. Unless its terrible, in which case you can listen to me complain." I said, turning as someone else finally came in.

She glanced at the newcomer, then back at me, bit the corner of her lip for a moment and said,

"Sure, why not."

Maybe the pressure of having another customer pushed her into having to answer, or gave her no time to make an excuse, but I slipped her one of my cards, and watched her eyes widen slightly when she realized where I worked, and what my title was. I wasn't trying to impress her, but it happens like that sometimes. She jotted her own number down on some receipt tape, and that was that. I texted her on the morning of to make sure she hadn't changed her mind, but no, she said she'd see me there.

-Dinner and a Movie-

It was actually a late lunch, and we didn't see a movie, I just couldn't help but remember the old line:

"How about I take you to dinner and a movie? By dinner, I mean sex, and by movie, I mean I'll be video taping it." - The Ladies Man

Haha, we didn't have sex the first night out, but we definitely had a sexually charged moment. You have to imagine, she was pretty passionate about social issues, and asked me a lot about my opinions on the subject. I'm fairly conservative in my views (yes, black people can be conservative), and I didn't mince words, but I also wasn't obnoxious about it. It made for a lively talk, and we found some common ground. She liked that I was older and wiser, and I liked that she was young and passionate. It wasn't until we went to leave that we made real contact, as I offered a hand to help her out of our shockingly snug booth, and she bumped into me, her hands landing on my chest, making her pause for a moment and smile at me. Small, but you can tell a lot from a touch. We texted a lot back and forth after that, and when I found another open spot in my schedule, I made plans with her again. For the record, I made her aware I was married, but she made a point of explaining how antiquated marriage was as an institution, and about how women were considered property to be traded. I didn't feel the need to explain to her that I still think women should be second class citizens to men, which is more about me being a womanizing dirt-bag, and less to do with my politics.

That fun little note aside, I absolutely fucked her that night. We had gone out again, and she had asked if I wanted to see her apartment, as it was just SO small (which it was BTW). It was a crappy unit her parents paid for, something that allowed her to work, save, and go to school without going broke. But, we all know what a girl is after when she invites you to her place, and we sat and listened to music, talking a little more, until talking finally turned into making out. Honestly, I think she was just patting herself on the back for being adventurous enough to try being with a black guy, and I love fucking white girls... so, aren't we a pair. We got to a point where I was sitting back, she was nestled in next to me, our mouths locked, hands exploring each other, when she decided it was time to see what all that chit chat on tik tok was about (or not, I'm not modern, I have no idea what's on there), and slid her hand up until she was touching my groin. You know that gasp you get when women get sexually excited by something? I will never get tired of that, and she was quick to point it out.

"Holy shit, you're really... big." she said quietly, seeming a little nervous, but excited.

"You've never..?" I said, deciding not to flat out ask if she'd ever been with a guy this big before.

She simply shook her head no, her hand still sliding up and down the bulge in my pants.

"You want to?" I said, putting my hand on hers and guiding it a little.

"Is that okay?" she shot back, as if I was going to say no.

I undid my pants, but I let her reach in and take it out. I wanted to see the expression on her face when she touched it for real for the first time, and especially when she saw it for the first time. I'm not claiming to be porn star big, but I'll tell you this much, the circumference of my dick is almost 7 inches, and it's just over 8 inches long (we've all measured, don't pretend you haven't). That's not strictly a black thing, so please don't get that twisted, I've seen a lot of naked bodies in my time, and size can vary greatly.

"Wow, this is... man." she said quite eloquently, her slim white fingers tracing it up from the mid point of my balls all the way up to the tip.

"This is indeed man." I said, smiling a little.

She got more comfortable, going from just brushing it with her fingers to wrapping them around it, slowly jerking it up and down.

"Mmmm... you like that..?" she said softly, looking me in the eyes.

It was my turn to just nod, and I did, sitting back. She giggled a sort of knowing laugh, and slid down to the floor in front of me, slowly dragging her pierced tongue up the length of it, watching as I squirmed a little. This made her laugh very quietly again, so I looked up, waiting to hear it. That little smacking noise that happens when a girl opens her mouth, and there it was... beautiful. I felt her wrap her lips around the head, slowly starting to work her way up and down it, but I knew she wasn't going to take it all in, especially not at THIS angle. For maximum penetration, you really want a girl to lay in a way that really opens up the esophagus, laying her on her back, with her head craning back over the edge of a bed is perfect for this. Like CPR, except instead of clearing a hazard, you choke her on your dick. She continued sucking it in slow strokes, her breath hot, occasionally dipping down and licking my balls, sucking them a little, but not taking them into her mouth. She seemed to love making me squirm. I couldn't wait until it was her turn.

"Oh fuck yesss... just like that." I said with mellowed enthusiasm as she went back to jerking and sucking.

She started picking up the pace, and I knew she knew it was working, her hand and mouth falling into a perfectly tandem rhythm. After a while, I felt the strained rush of my seed pulsing out and into her mouth, and thrilled as she went into overtime, making sure to really get it all out, sucking and pumping fast. It was happy circumstance (for me) that she hadn't really been planning what transpired, and when she slipped her mouth free of my dick, she glanced around for something to spit it in. She didn't have anything handy, and almost stood up, but then just closed her eyes and swallowed it all. Perfect. Though, I have a rule... never kiss a girl after she sucks your dick, especially if she swallows. So, making out was over. Instead, just just stayed there between my legs, bouncing slightly with what I assume was pride, and asked,

"How was THAT?" she said, seeming pleased with herself.

"There are no words." I said, laughing lightly, which she smiled at.

While she knew when she invited me over that SOMETHING was going to happen, I don't think she thought that something was going to be sex. Maybe a little oral, or some hand stuff, but I could tell from the glint in her eye that she was needing it, and I wasn't about to let that opportunity slide.

"Seems like I owe you again." I said playfully, putting our little coffee shop exchange for advice and dinner back on the forefront, "Can't let you come out on top now, can I?" I said with a laugh, making sure to pick my words very carefully.

"Oh, I can't come out on top?" she said, clearly taking the challenge of my words.

Either that, or it's a control thing. Don't know. Don't care. But she undid her jeans and dropped them down, seeming to pause for just a moment as she continued eyeing my dick before sliding her panties down and climbing on top, straddling me. For her, sex is a sort of sport, and I'm sure the trophy is the feeling of revenge against her dad. I already knew she was on birth control (it came up during our talk about reproductive rights), but I was still willing to offer, and I did:

"Do you... should I get a condom?" I asked.

"Do you want to wear one?" she shot back, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"If you don't care, I don't care." was all I responded with, but it was enough to make her smile.

She was definitely ready to go.

She reached down, guiding it where it belonged, her natural brown hair clear in the slightly bushy landing strip she had shaved her pubic hair into, light stubble around the outside, a final indication to me that she HADN'T been planning on sex. She put her hands on the back of the couch on either side of my head, my dick slowly disappearing inside of her as she lowered herself down, letting out a slightly pained whimper as it finally sunk in. She started slow, which I understand, making sure to ease herself into a comfortable and pleasurable rhythm. I grabbed her hips, not wanting to be too rough with her at first, just helping to guide her along. It didn't take too long, her body starting to get tense, her movements more harsh and sudden, coupled along with sharper breaths and pleasure moans that were getting harder and higher in pitch. She likes to grab her own breasts when she climaxes, pinching and pulling her nipples by the metal rods that pierce them. She started leaning in towards me, which made me worry she was going in for a kiss, so I rolled her to the side and on her back, taking control, making sure to push her back up and over the edge again... and then again.

I was post blowjob, so I still had a fair amount of juice in the tank before I needed to unload again, and I put that to good use, making sure to hook her legs, and fold her up over herself slightly, feet towards the ceiling as I took my turn dominating her. She whimpered and cried out, her legs trembling, her hands shaky as she alternated between clutching at herself and grabbing for purchase on the couch. By the time I was ready again, I brought myself straight up to the point, and pulled out, shooting it up onto her tits, belly, and a nice healthy load all over her pubic area. We shared some of that post sex laughter that comes from being satisfied and relieved, both of us catching our breath. I'll be completely honest though, for me, this time was more about sex than it had ever been. Normally I have a bit of a bond or a connection with my other sexual partners, but with Shannon, it was entirely about sex, and thanks to her more modern sensibilities, she seemed perfectly okay with that. After that night, we started to meet up for fuck sessions as frequently as I was free, which isn't as often as I like, having responsibilities to both my job and home life.

-One Fish, Two Fish-

I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I got her to break like some character in my other stories, but I have been shaping her a little more and more with each encounter. She's definitely gotten more submissive, letting me be more in control of the "how" and "when" of it all. I got her to start saying things like "Big Black Cock" when we're fucking, because the dynamic seems to turn her on as much as it does me. We still text pretty regularly, and she sends me little dirty thoughts and occasionally dirty pictures of herself. Though I have a new personal policy, and now I delete them after a reasonable period of enjoyment. Never keep evidence, it's just an invitation to get caught. Speak of the devil, while it was never really my greatest thrill, I've also gotten more into online porn, which I decided to put in the file folders where all my old stuff used to be. It's by design, as I know it would be easier on her for my wife to potentially find my porn stash, and not evidence of my infidelity. Assuming she ever had the inclination to really dig for it.

Speaking of Lynn, I'm sure you might be wondering how it is I manage to have a double life that she's not aware of. The answer is... I'm not sure. Maybe she suspects me or knows, but doesn't feel it's effecting anything at home. Maybe she just knows I have a home life and an outside life, and is content to not cross the wires between the two. Or, maybe she's just really oblivious. I doubt that third option, as Lynn has always been bright and engaging in many ways, and time has barely slowed any of that down. We still have an engaging sex life of our own, and I like to try and bring some of the creative or enthusiastic moves I see and practice back home to her. We have an anniversary coming up. Life is good.