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Grinning back I said, "Well maybe this guy is good in bed, too—you never know by looking. Why don't you dance...do a striptease for him...see how it goes from there, babe? Maybe it'll get you all hot and bothered letting him check out your goodies, hmm?"
Blondie smiled tentatively and said, "Hell, I'm already hot and bothered. I've been horny all week thinkin' about gettin' some strange cock this afternoon...really been countin' on it."
She looked up at me and brightened, "One thing might be in his favor...does he look kinda Negro-ish to you? I mean his features...somethin' about that broad nose and those full lips, kinda makes me wonder, you know?"
She purred devilishly, "Now that could definitely improve my attitude, cher."
I joked, "Hell, you guys may be cousins; he could be part of that local South Alabama Cajun group that call themselves Cajans...live up north of Mobile around Citronelle. I read something about them in the Register a few years ago. Unlike your Louisiana Cajuns, the Alabama variety are part white, part black and part Choctaw Indian, from what I've read. Actually they're not related to your brand of Cajuns at all although some of them did interbreed with the French who settled South Alabama."
That brought a randy smile to her lovely face. Blondie loved to seriously and serially violate that old Southern taboo she'd been brought up with: white women absolutely do not, under any circumstances, have intercourse with black men. By this point in our sexual exploits, she'd been with several blacks and they ranked right up there on her sexual turn-on scale with lazy-eyed cowboys. Who knew where a lazy-eyed, partially black lounge lizard might rank?
My naughty Dixie Pixie almost growled, "Well guess what you smooth talker? Hearin' that and rememberin' that cowboy just made my pussy wet...so get your butt out there and keep him company. I'll be out in a second and we'll see if we can't get this little party goin', d'accord (okay)? I really do need...an' I do mean need...to get some strange cock this afternoon."
Tilting her head thoughtfully, she purred, "And I've got a big one right in there in the livin' room just waitin' for me, don't I?"
A few minutes later, Blondie's return to the party was heralded by a sudden increase in the stereo volume and her bobbing figure prancing around the corner of our L-shaped living area, to stand provocatively jinking to the beat, smiling invitingly at Jeff.
"Whyn't you come sit on the couch an' let me put on a sexy little show for you, sugar?"
Again I was taken by how stunningly gorgeous she was, standing there in her black lingerie, blond hair and glossy red lipstick, rhythmically thrusting her pelvis to the pulsing beat of the extended version of Creedence's "I Heard it through the Grapevine." We moved to the couch where Blondie could use our large, square, glass-topped coffee table as her stage. Jeff held her hand, steadying her, as she stepped up onto the black mirrored surface, then took his seat in the middle of one wing of the sectional while I took the other.
I relit the joint and handed it to Blondie who passed it down to her enthralled guest after taking a series of deep tokes, holding the last one in her lungs a long time. This dope was that good weed we saved for sexy situations and I saw her close her eyes and visibly mellow down when it hit her just a couple of minutes later. Marijuana invariably made her even more sensual and uninhibited, especially this stuff. As proof of that, she blew Jeff a pouty air kiss as she untied her peignoir and pulled it open, giving him a full view of her nipples, while rhythmically pumping her pelvis at him in time to the heavy beat.
I relaxed, too, seeing that this was going to go very well in spite of the rocky start. Blondie may have had some initial misgivings...but she also wanted badly to get fucked by a stranger this afternoon...and here sat a stranger right in front of her...so I knew her howling hormones would win this round. I also knew from long experience that my wanton wife wouldn't have opened that peignoir so quickly if she hadn't just made up her mind to let this guy fuck her. I took my hard cock out and began to slowly stroke it, saying to Jeff, "Go ahead, man, she likes guys to play with themselves while they watch her dance, dontcha, babe?"
Blondie smiled at him and said, "Mmm, hmm, sure do, baby; go ahead and jackoff for me."
He quickly proceeded to do just that, unlimbering an impressive, uncircumcised penis, probably nine inches long and exceptionally thick. It was very dark brown, almost black, and again I weighed the growing likelihood of some African genes in this guy.
My thrilled little tart threw me a knowing look and groaned, "Ooh putain ouais bébé (Ooh fuck yeah, baby), look at that big ol' thing, would you? Look what a big, beautiful cock you got me."
She cast me a sly, sideways glance and grinned, "Cette chose me semble certainement noire (That thing sure looks black to me), non?"
She leered at Jeff, "I just told my husband your cock looks black...is it? You part black, baby?" And when he just smiled inscrutably, confessing nothing, she crooned soothingly, "Well it's fine an' dandy with me if you are 'cause this is one little ol' white wife who's gotta good case of jungle fever...one who just loves fuckin' black guys, sugar."
He just smiled, volunteering nothing more about his genetic bonafides. As the song ended, Blondie shucked off the open peignoir and playfully tossed it in Jeff's face while instructing me,
"Play that again, Rick—that's the perfect beat for the way I feel like movin' right now, nice and sexy and horny, an' it's ten minutes without any interruption."
I gladly complied then sat back and watched my nearly-nude cutie, up on her small, glass-topped stage, slowly hunching and writhing to CCR's heavy beat for a young man who'd come to our door less than an hour ago, and now sat there stroking his big, nearly-black penis.
About half way through the song Blondie paused and slipped her bikini panties down her thighs and off over her high heels, kicking them in Jeff's smiling face. He made a show of holding them over his nose and inhaling deeply before wrapping them around his erection. I was thrilled, knowing my socially proper, business-professional spouse had now fully transitioned into total slut mode. She was going to fuck this guy's eyeballs out, even the wayward one—particularly that wayward one—I thought with a smile.
From his vantage point on the sofa, below her, Jeff was looking up at Blondie's hairy vulva with its tumescent pink lips peeking out through the brown hair, a sight that stimulated him even further, causing him to jack off even faster with her panties clutched tightly around his cock until she wagged an index finger back and forth at him, admonishing,
"Don't you go gettin' your nuts off, stud-muffin." She tapped her lower belly with a lacquered nail and teased, "I want all that nice hot stuff in here, not all over my couch cushions, okay?"
He grinned agreeably, nodding and slowing his pumping hand—his penis was so erect the foreskin was pulled completely back with the shiny, purple glans fully exposed. The head was slightly bigger around than the shaft and I knew my wife was going to enjoy the sensations that big glans would produce deep in her snug vaginal canal. She was calculating that as well, glancing over at me and pursing her bright red lips in a lewd, delighted "Oooh!" expression.
Next up was Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights" and Blondie really rocked out to that, her black and gold platform heels clacking down so hard on the glass table top I was afraid she'd break it. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen her rocking like this in a while—she was totally into it, putting on one hell of a show for a guy with an off-center eye. I assumed that deformity had something to do with her excitement as I'd long suspected it had with her Wyoming cowboy.
As Seger's "Night Moves" ended, she was breathing hard from her frantic exertions and with Jeff's assistance, stepped down from her stage. Sitting next to him on the sectional, she took a long pull off her drink, motioning for me to fire up the doobie again. She took a couple of hits and passed it to Jeff who did the same before putting it in the ashtray.
Blondie turned to Jeff, put her hand on his cheek and began to kiss him lightly. Suddenly she moaned, pulled him to her and mashed those luscious red lips into that gunslinger moustache as her hand went to his groin, her small, white, ring-covered fingers wrapping around that fat, black phallus. Jeff first thumbed her taut nipple then dropped his hand between her spread legs. She groaned as he slid a finger inside her, fingering her tight vaginal opening, while her own hand increased the tempo of its rising and falling movement on his ebony member.
Any reservations Blondie had earlier about fucking this guy were assuredly gone now as she intensified her impassioned kissing with various accompanying moans and gasps. I reflected that this was indeed very much a replay of the "Cowboy" incident and realized it surely had to have something to do with their shared ocular abnormalities.
Whatever the cause, I was enjoying the sexy show. Watching my comely wife kissing another man in hot foreplay is almost as exciting as observing the intercourse it inevitably leads to. Blondie is a superbly sexy kisser with those full, luscious lips that just devour your own, entrapping your tongue while invading your mouth with her own sweet weaponry. Right now she was consuming Jeff's mouth while her hand continued its determined pumping up and down on his diamond-cutter erection.
What happened next totally astounded me...and this from a guy who thought he'd seen damned near everything when it comes to sex between his wife and other men. Blondie broke off the kissing, stood up, grabbed Jeff's hand and tugged, saying,
"Come on, baby—I want that thing inside me, now!"
She hadn't even sucked this guy's dick yet, something she always did for the men we invited over. As Jeff quickly stood I, too, leapt to my feet...only to be stunned with her abrupt,
"No, sugar, you need to just sit there for a while and give mama a little privacy, okay?"
This was something she had never, ever, in more than a dozen years of having sex with other men, asked me to do...and in my shocked state, all I could think of was to mumble my cuckold's acquiescence. She smiled and in a very crisp take charge manner said,
"Good, you can come in later and watch but I want this to be just Jeff and me this first time."
It was a most strange sensation watching my blonde wife's gorgeous, creamy buns flouncing from the room, sensually contrasted by her black garterbelt, nylons and heels, while leading by the hand a guy she'd recently termed sleazy, taking him into our bedroom to fuck.
Without letting me watch...
I sat there in stunned silence for a while, then drained my drink and made a fresh one. I stepped into the hall and up to the closed bedroom door—she'd completely closed the damned thing, a highly unusual move. I put my ear to the hollow interior door and heard her moans and cries.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" and "Fuck me, baby, fuck me, fuck me fuck me!" Both English and French.
I put my drink on the floor and quietly eased the door open to find Blondie on her back, her arms and legs wrapped around her new lover as he pounded that big thick, dark cock into her. And with her blonde mane whipping back and forth wildly between passionate, tongue-swapping kisses, she encouraged him to do it. "Harder, baby, harder—fuck me harder! Oh yeah, baise-moi plus fort (fuck me harder)!"
A growing suspicion was niggling at me: Blondie had a handicapped brother a couple of years older than her whose problems were due to childhood meningitis and now consisted primarily of some limitations to certain movements and some speech impairment which affected both his mobility and his ability to verbally communicate. His family had little difficulty understanding him...but in spite of his personal attractiveness and impressive intelligence he'd been generally unsuccessful in his social life as a student and young man...remaining single until finally meeting and marrying a similarly afflicted woman later in life.
I wondered if there could be some connection there to explain Blondie's strangely heightened, erotic attraction to two guys with almost identical physical deformities. Generally there was nothing wrong with her brother's eyes...but then, like a shot...it occurred to me that on a few occasions when I had seen him really angry or extremely excited...such as over an LSU or a Saints' football game...that his eyes did go out of synchrony, failing to track in unison, much like this guy Jeff and the cowboy. Could sexual excitation be the cause of such optical misalignment? My flickering suspicions were beginning to flare.
It would be several months after this sexy Saturday afternoon liaison before I discovered my brother-in-law's tell-all journal on his bedroom computer and learned exactly how accurate my stark speculation had been. But that's a story unto itself, perhaps more than one, to be found in an upcoming Blondie saga in the Taboo category.
When I later found Bert's journal, I could understand...even admire...a sister providing some form of sexual relief to a socially debilitated brother. She was understanding of...and sympathetic with...his need for occasional sexual gratification with a woman...which was highly unlikely given the socially awkward consequences of his disabilities. Moreover, in his writings, Bert revealed that the Levodopa drugs he took to control involuntary movement were known to cause hypersexuality problems in patients, making Blondie's cooperation even more sympathetic in my view. If, in taking care of her brother's sexual needs, she happened to get some physical pleasure herself...as was apparently the case from Bert's account...so what?
And then there was another factor that could have more practically and less compassionately contributed to her compliance: Bert boasted in his account that he had just under eight thick inches, which could account for why any highly-sexed sister might be a more sympathetic and willing participant their forbidden activities, as well as explain how Blondie might have developed her marked preference for big dicks, especially thick ones which were her absolute favorites, regardless of length.
When Blondie had learned early in our marriage that I didn't care that she'd had an active sex life prior to me, she'd partially fessed up, revealing that she'd had her first sexual experience shortly after she turned eighteen...during the summer prior to her senior year at Baton Rouge High...and thereafter had been sexually active with multiple partners prior to meeting me. But she'd confessed nothing regarding sibling incest or the extent to which she'd been active with her boyfriends, such as the much later revelation regarding daily intercourse throughout her senior year.
Whatever the truth, I certainly didn't fault Blondie for it...hell, my own older sister had behaved seductively toward me, parading around naked in my presence when her husband wasn't off at work...having me wash her back as she sat in her bath, her ample breasts on full, soapy, and very enticing display...this when I was nineteen and she was a young married mother of twenty-four.
Had I been a bit less prudish about the incest thing, I'm certain my sister would have let me fuck her. Truth was, I wanted to—she was a cutie and obviously coming on to me—I was just too inhibited by the fact that she was my big sister and it just seemed so weird to a naïve kid. Had I known at the time how routine sibling incest actually is in our culture, I would gladly have given my sexy, horny sister what she clearly wanted when her husband was at work. So, at this point in life, I certainly had no moral authority nor any inclination to be judgmental of Blondie.
Then there was this: A few years after Blondie and I married, we had together committed a form of what I suppose could be termed semi-sibling incest when my twenty-six-year-old wife had fucked my similarly-aged, younger brother repeatedly when he came and stayed a few days with us. Years earlier I'd seen them frequently eyeballing each other appreciatively during all the events of our pre-nuptials week. By the time he called all these years later to say he'd be passing through and to ask if he could stop over for a few days, my sexy little sweetie had already been embarked on her hotwife existence for a year and was by then an experienced little slut.
When I told her Mike was coming for a visit, her first response...accompanied by a very naughty smile...was, "Mmm, he's awfully good-looking...all my girlfriends in our wedding party had hot pants for your handsome little brother."
She grinned, "He prolly coulda fucked any of 'em...even a coupla the married ones...tu sais?"
I asked, "What about you? Did you want to fuck him? I saw you two exchanging all those long, meaningful looks that whole week he was in town."
She sniggered, "Busted! I must admit the thought did cross my mind," pausing then confessing, "Several times in fact—Mike just oozes attrait sexuel (sex appeal), you know, cher?"
To which I snarked, "Never noticed that myself. Well, that was six years ago...what about now?"
Blondie smiled wolfishly and teased, "Well now, just what do you think, big brother?"
Well, she wanted to, and brother, did she ever! Although nothing happened his first night in our home...a Thursday...because he got in off the road late and dead tired. But Friday evening as soon as Blondie got home from work, she began openly flirting. Following a long dinner, much drinking and a couple of joints, she donned her lingerie, dancing for him and stripping to nothing but heels, hose and garterbelt, after which they spent most of the weekend in bed.
My wife was incredibly hot with my brother, nearly insatiable, and now, in retrospect, I wondered if the semi-incest aspects of the situation hadn't played a role in her heightened passion that memorable weekend—she might not have been fucking her own brother—but she most assuredly was fucking mine.
Another confirmation that Bert's journal was factual and not just the fantasy of a sex-deprived young male obsessing over a sexy sister: Girls who've been involved in sibling sex frequently are promiscuous as adults, open to risky, casual sex with strangers. My Blondie is exceedingly promiscuous, having had dozens upon dozens of partners, many of them total strangers casually acquired, as pickups in bars for one-night stands. Notably...while I'd been the one...early in our marriage...to broach the subject of her having sex with other men...it had been my wife who took us from fantasizing about it to actually doing it...seducing a handsome cop she'd met at work... convincing him to let me watch them fuck, thus launching us on our lifelong, hotwife-cuckold venture.
