Blondie gets Black Bred

Blondie gets Black Bred

Our flight landed at Miami International at 11:00 am where we had a planned five hour layover before continuing on to Barbados--a layover planned because I had decided to make our trip a just a wee bit more exciting than the usual Caribbean vacation. I had booked a room for the afternoon at the on-site hotel in the main terminal. As we proceeded down the corridor from our gate, both Blondie, my lovely 32 year-old wife, and I were a bit wobbly from the steady supply of drinks we'd been served in first class by a pair of really fun and attentive flight attendants.

After starting off with Mimosas on the flight up to Atlanta from Mobile, we'd connected to our flight down to Miami where they had suggested switching to a vodka concoction we'd never tried, the Screaming Orgasm, a mixture of vodka, Bailey's Irish Cream and Kahlua. Now, with our balance and stability a bit in question, we exchanged knowing smirks, agreeing that we had consumed too many of those wickedly delicious concoctions between Atlanta and Miami.

Those knowing smirks also came from our amusement at wondering what our flight attendants would have thought if they had known about our plans for our layover--and in view of that, how very appropriate their drink suggestion had been. As we proceeded toward the central terminal area, my sexy little spouse was drawing her usual surreptitious appraisals from other males, those sly, lustful glances which I relished but she ostensibly ignored. Of course if we were in a bar and some nice-looking guy was giving her the eye, she might give me a sideways glance and a sly,

"That cutie over there's checkin' me out--want me to pick him up an' have us a little party?"

We were still being silly when we got to what can only be called a micro-room, typical in size of most short-stay, in-terminal hotels. Everything about the room was small, much smaller than your usual hotel room, but the bed, that took up most of the space, was a queen, providing more than ample room for our needs on this layover.

I called Luis to give him our room number. He said he'd be there in less than an hour. An eager Blondie unpacked her things from our wheeled carry-on bag then jumped in the tiny shower in the teeny bathroom to rinse off and freshen up for her impending adventure.

As I perused the room-service menu, Blondie emerged from the shower, drying off quickly, then sitting on the bed while putting on a black shelf bra that cupped her soft, conical breasts, leaving her pink nipples exposed. Next came a black, stretch-lace garterbelt over which she pulled on a pair of sheer lace, black bikini panties through which her neatly trimmed, dark vee of a bush was invitingly visible.

I called room service and ordered Cuban sandwiches and a bottle of wine, while Blondie pulled on her sheer, black, high-topped hose and fastened them to the eight garters on an expensive, high-fetish garterbelt. Her outfit was completed with a pair of open-heeled, black patent, "come-fuck-me" stilettoes. Even though married more than a decade, this thirty-plus blonde was a ravishing little sexpot even before performing her hair and makeup repairs.

Watching her, I found myself musing at how this had all gotten started several years earlier when I married this lovely, sexually precocious, young Cajun girl in Baton Rouge. If the reader is interested in learning more about that, it is all recounted in my stories, How Blondie Became a Hotwife and Blondie Finally Begins Her Hotwife Life.

Blondie was standing in the minuscule bathroom putting the finishing touches on her heavy makeup, applying bright red, wet-look lip gloss to her full, luscious lips when our order arrived. The room service waiter was a rather distinguished looking, older, very dark, black man with salt and pepper sprinkled liberally through his tight cap of hair and thin, neatly trimmed moustache. Still tipsy from the drinks on the plane, I decided to have a little extra fun by letting the old guy get an eyeful of Blondie in her lingerie, instructing him to take the tray off the cart and bring it into the room. Looking around the small room at the sparsity of flat surfaces, he muttered, "Where you want me to set dis tray down, suh?" Knowing there was no spare surface space, not even a big enough dresser top, I told him to set it on the countertop in the bathroom, the only place available in the miniature room. He said, "Yessuh," and carried the tray over to the open bathroom door. The stunned look on his face when he stepped into the doorway was priceless.

Having heard my instruction to him, Blondie picked up on what I was doing and went along with the game, momentarily continuing her preparations as if the old guy wasn't even there, brushing her blond hair with her arms raised and her lovely jiggling breasts and pink nipples on full display, nestled enticingly in the shelf bra, her nipples quickly and fully erect, protruding invitingly. He just stood there gawking for a few seconds at this beautiful, nearly-nude, short, sexy, white woman, easily young enough to be his daughter. I stepped into the doorway, hemming him into the tight space, not three steps from my nearly naked wife, who finally smiled at him in the mirror, glanced at his name tag and purred seductively,

"Well hello there, Toussaint--my, aren't you just the handsomest ol' coquin (rascal) hmm?"

The old dude recovered his aplomb quickly, saying with a broad, toothy grin,

"Why thank you, missy--you a mighty fine lookin' creature yourself, ma cher."

From his name, which she pronounced Too-sain, in the French manner and the "ma cher," a French endearment my little Louisiana belle also used frequently, I gathered he was from one of the Caribbean islands and at least thirty years older than the nearly naked woman standing before him. Taking the room service bill, I said, "It's okay, Toussaint, go ahead and take a good long look at her while I calculate your tip, dude. She likes to show it off, don't you, babe?"

Blondie gave him a dazzling smile with that sexy red mouth and perfect white teeth, purring, "Specially when it's a handsome ol' black devil checkin' out my goodies." She put her hairbrush down and turned to face him, murmuring, "I bet you're old as my daddy but you're still a real cutie--wish we were gonna be here longer--I'd give you a lot more 'n just a quick look, honeychile."

Stepping up to him, she grasped the lapels of his crisp white tunic and brushed her lips against his, her tongue flicking across his lips. To his credit, handsome old Toussaint, who'd likely been sexually accosted by more than a few horny white female guests, wasn't intimidated in the least. Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her in for an extended, open-mouthed, tongue swapping kiss. She groaned approvingly, pressing her nakedness up against him. I glanced at my watch, cautioning her,

"Blondie, we don't have time for this. You already have a date, hotpants, or have you forgotten?"

She pulled back, glanced past Toussaint at the door to the hallway and smirked confidently, "What I have in mind won't take but a couple of minutes, babe. How much time do we have?"

I conceded that we could spare a few minutes so she stepped back and sat on the toilet seat, beckoning Toussaint to come to her. Reaching up under his tunic she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his trousers and pulled them and his undershorts to his knees. I couldn't see around him but the entire erotic tableau was visible in the mirror, where I watched the reflected image of my cock-crazy Cajun cutie take his long, semi-erect penis in her luscious mouth and initiate what could only be described as an absolutely ferocious blowjob.

With her lovely blond head moving like that of a starving woodpecker, Blondie was moaning, growling and groaning with pent-up lust as she fellated this black room service waiter. It could not have been much more than five minutes since he walked into the room and here we were with my audacious wife already sucking his black dick. He stood before her, legs splayed, leaning back with his hands on his hips, grinning at me in the mirror with that smug satisfaction I'd seen on black men's faces many times before, conveying the definitely racial message:

"Look how much your pretty little white bitch loves her some big ol' black dick, white boy."

And he was entirely right, but then, so was my pretty little white bitch--it didn't take her long, under five minutes, actually, to get him off. With a low growl, Toussaint moaned,

"Yeah, lil' missy, here it come girl, you get it girl, you foxy lil' cocksucker, you take all ol' Toussaint's jizz in dat sexy mouth you hot lil' mutha! Here it come, baby, here it come! Aaaaagh!"

She had snatched a hand towel from the counter and was now holding it beneath her chin to catch the semen flowing from her mouth, keeping it from dripping on her nylons and lingerie. As his ejaculations continued, a surprisingly large load from such an old guy, she kept letting it escape around his cock, out over that full, ripe, lower lip and down her chin knowing I loved to see her do it this much more erotic, but also much messier, way, rather than simply swallowing.

A still aroused Blondie pulled back and kept stroking his cock until Toussaint shuddered out his last dribble which she licked away. Smiling up at him as she wiped at her mouth, she teased,

"I'd much rather have gotten all that in my pussy, cher--maybe on another trip, hmm, baby?"

I clapped him on the back and told him, "Sorry, man, but you have to get out of here--she has a date on his way over here and we still have to eat."

Moments later, as the door closed behind the departing waiter, my insatiable spouse said,

"Lordy, I wish we'd had time for me to screw that old man instead of just blowin' him." She grinned, "He's a good kisser an' somethin' just tells me he's probably a real good fuck, too."

Standing before the mirror again, she was making quick repairs to the minor damages to her appearance she'd just inflicted. She'd bought an expensive "kiss-proof" lipstick at the Galleria Nieman-Marcus in Houston that resisted removal except with the most torrid and prolonged kissing so the damages from her exertions were minimal, limited mainly to her hair. Blowing me a puckered air kiss, she crooked a finger at me and teased,

"C'mere, babe, an' let mama give you a little taste of the action."

Putting a hand behind my neck, she pulled me down for a hot, wet kiss with lots of tongue, then backed away looking into my eyes, evaluating my response, and mocked,

"You like kissin' your wife knowin' some black guy just came her mouth, don't you, cher?"

When I just grinned, she taunted, "Hey, you can admit it--your little secret's safe with me."

I laughed, knowing how serious she was, and said, "Yeah, I do like it and I loved watching you do it, hotpants, but right now we gotta eat these sandwiches before Luis gets here."

While we ate, we reminisced about our first encounter with Luis at an on-premises swinger's club in Cutler Ridge in Southwest Miami several months earlier. It was a nice club, with a very stiff door charge, a hundred bucks per couple. The clientele was primarily prosperous young Cubans, with numerous attractive couples, a few of them Anglos like us, but management also allowed several unaccompanied males for those wives seeking to service multiple young studs.

Some of the Cuban women were darkly gorgeous, but it was the rubias (blonds) like Blondie that drew the most attention, their fair hair glowing softly in the club's low, indirect lighting. There was a large bar area filled with sofas and oversized chairs and a dance floor where customers could recover between their exertions in the several adjoining "playrooms" which were furnished with a few sofas for observers but mostly mattresses scattered about the floors for active participants.

Due to some serious ganja we were offered soon after entering, we quickly lost track of time, entranced by the sexual activity going on everywhere one looked. Eventually, as I was paired off with one of those beautiful Cuban wives, I glanced over and saw Blondie next to us, naked and on her back, being attended to by three young Cuban studs, one fucking her, one with his cock in her mouth and one sucking her breasts. The one fucking her was a couple of shades darker than the other two, with kinky/curly hair rather than the straight black of most Hispanic males.

At the end of the evening Blondie couldn't remember if she'd actually had intercourse with all three of them, but she most definitely remembered Luis, the handsome, solidly built, heavily endowed, 20 year old Afro-Cubano who she said had given her the most memorable fuck of the night. Before we left, she had me seek him out in the crowd and get his phone number; now here we were, in the Miami airport hotel, waiting for Luis to come to our room and give my beautiful wife, more than a decade his senior, a chance to rob that cradle one more time.

When I'd first called the kid to set up this erotic layover, he hadn't remembered us; he and his young buddies had been to that club many times, whenever they wanted to spring for the hefty $100 cover charge. He initially seemed wary and suspicious of my intent, that perhaps I was a maricón (homosexual). When I described the very attractive, thirtyish, blonde woman whom he'd serviced so well she'd had her husband get his phone number, he responded with a tentative, "Yah, I t'ink I 'member, puede ser (perhaps).

I told him we'd like for him to meet us in the hotel in the main airport terminal during our layover and said I'd send him a picture of Blondie and our phone numbers. I sent a pic of her looking drop-dead gorgeous in the same sexy outfit she was wearing to meet him today. It didn't take long for that to generate a most eager return call,

"Yah, now I 'member dat lady, she's una dama maravillasa...muy pera (a gorgeous lady...very classy)." He paused then chuckled, "She got una chocha muy estrecha (a very tight pussy).

I laughed and replied, "Yeah, I've had a lot of guys tell me that--it's the main thing they all tend to remember about my little sweetie--that and her sexy mouth."

When Luis finally knocked, Blondie jumped up to let him in. His eyes were wide in youthful appreciation of her beauty and her erotic attire as she closed the door behind him. she said "Hi, handsome," and put her arms around him, kissing him open-mouthed sucking his tongue between her glossy red lips. With her mouth locked on his she back-walked the few steps to the bed then pivoted, pushing him onto it. She straddled him and with a happy grin began grinding the creamy crotch of her black lace panties into the large lump in his slacks.

She moaned, "Omigod, baby, I've been wantin' to do this for so long."

Luis threw me a startled look and I responded with a thumbs-up and said, "Hey, go for it, stud."

He did, pulling my wife down and kissing her hotly while she twisted and ground her soft white body against his hard, mahogany muscles, her hot groin rubbing against that now huge bulge under his slacks.

I said, "Suck his dick, baby--he wants you to suck his big black cock. And so do I."

Pausing for a second, I continued, "And so do you--you know you want to suck that big dick, that big black dick--get it ready to fuck you, don't you, baby?"

She moaned, "Oh God yes I want to suck it," to which I said,

"Then get him undressed, babe--get that boy naked and suck his big black dick."

She crawled off his body and the bed, then bent and unbuckled his belt, pulling his black jeans and shorts down to his ankles. Stooping. she removed his shoes and socks then pulled his pants free. Luis had peeled his gaudy, sleeveless muscle-T over his head and now lay sprawled on the bed in all his youthful, naked muscularity, his undoubtedly fake, heavy, gold chain gleaming around his neck. His muscular arms and chest were covered in tattoos, some rather crude like jailhouse art, and I wondered at his gang affiliations and whether this might be an actual, serious criminal she was about to fuck again.

He certainly had that thug demeanor about him, but I could understand her being so hot for this kid--here she was, at 32, approaching middle age, and she was about to fuck this boyishly handsome, half-black, 20 year old Cuban kid with his shiny black, curly-kinky hair, striking green eyes and stocky, muscular body. He was probably a very bad boy, and thus every middle-aged, married, white woman's Latin-lover wet dream, the stuff of tens of millions of female masturbational fantasies.

But the kid's main asset for my white wife, of course, was that big black, uncircumcised cock now bouncing off his hard stomach--and this was no fantasy--she had just taken this young stud's proud erection between her voluptuous lips and had begun an enthusiastic, rhythmic, up and down bobbing of her head which had her youthful partner moaning,

"Oh fuck yeah, lady! Suck dat dick! Suck it mama! Suck dat pinga (cock) bebé!"

She did, and quite vigorously, even to the point of surprising me when she paused momentarily to say, "If you want to come in my mouth, chérie, I'll let you later but I really want you to come in my pussy first, just like you did last time, okay? That was so good--you really gave me a hot load and that's what I want this afternoon, just pump my pussy full again." While telling him this, she was jacking him off with all ten ring-encrusted, bright-red-nailed fingers wrapped around his long shaft.

Now Blondie rolled off him and flopped on her back, lifting her hips saying, "Rick, get my panties," which I quickly peeled down her legs and off over her high-heels. She rolled again, this time swinging a leg over Luis' hips, and, settling atop him, began rubbing her pink labia up and down that thick black shaft, lubricating it with her own creamy vaginal secretions.

For a 20 year old, the kid sure had his share of self-assurance; he had his hands folded behind his head grinning up at my nearly delirious Dixie Pixie as she rocked back and forth; he glanced over at me and winked. Young Luis apparently had full confidence in his desirability and sexual prowess. She drew up her right leg and planted a high-heel in the bedspread, balancing on it and her left knee as she reached down and guided that black cock to her vulva. She was so lubricated it went right in a couple of inches before meeting the usual resistance of her tight vaginal canal. She leaned forward with both hands on Luis' chest then rocked back slightly taking in a couple more inches, repeating that process until finally when she rocked back on his hips, the entire nine-plus inches disappeared inside her.

As Luis began a steady rhythmic thrusting up into her, she glanced over at me and smiled happily and purred, "Oh thank you, baby, for settin' this up for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I grinned and replied, "Anything to keep my beautiful bride happy--does he feel as good as he did last time?"

She gave me a positively depraved smile and moaned, "Oh God yesss, Rick! He feels so fuckin' good inside me!" She rode him like that for the next several minutes and it was obvious from his response that our young visitor was getting a very large charge out of the older white lady being so enamored of his physical attributes and sexual skills.

Luis kept up a running repartee with her, "Yah, you fuck my big pinga, lady, you fuckin' it right, bebé," and "I gonna fuck you good, too, lady, den you gonna suck my dick again, Yah?"