Blondie Walks on the Wild Side

Blondie slipped on her sexy high-heels then stood waiting as I sat on the edge of the bed and fastened her black garters. Like always, I could smell the strong musky scent her aroused vagina emitted when she was anticipating casual sex with one of her boyfriends or another new stranger, an aroma that also kept me semi-erect with anticipation.

She picked up on my disappointment about the dancing and softened, "Look, babe, I'm still gonna dance but just not as long as I usually do. After I've fucked this pretty boy once, I'll dance for you guys an' play with my little friends (her vibrators) okay?"

Grinning, she said, "Hey, we've probably got all night--after the fuckin' I'm plannin' on puttin' on him, this boy's not gonna be in any hurry to leave." She smiled confidently, "Wanna bet?"

"Now go out there and keep him occupied while I finish gettin' ready. Show him some pics of me fuckin' Victor--those are hot--especially the ones of me suckin' that big, black cock. That'll get his dick hard an' his balls pumpin' for sure. Now go!"

I did, and Blondie was right as usual; Gary was fascinated by the many pictures of my beautiful blonde wife in various sexual acts and poses with Victor and a couple of other black guys. He noted Victor's many tats and commented that he looked like a very bad dude. I agreed,

"That's part of his appeal for Blondie, that bad-boy persona, along with that big dick, of course. She has me call him and set up dates every so often."

"But since we met you this afternoon, cutie, we won't have to call him any time soon now, will we?" Blondie giggled as she danced into the room in her black panties, bra and garterbelt under a sheer black negligee, causing Gary to look up and exclaim,

"Whoa, mama! You are fuckin' hot, lady!" Looking at me he grinned, "Man, she's gorgeous!"

Blondie extended her hand and I helped her step up onto the large, low, square, glass-topped cube that was our contemporary coffee table and her long-time dancing platform. She immediately began undulating her hips to the funky beat, her eyes locked on the young bartender, her full, glossy, red lips twisted into the smile of a determined temptress.

True to her expressed intentions, her dancing was quickly curtailed and they were fucking within a half hour, their first copulation completed on the couch and subsequent matings throughout the night in our king bed. I will spare the details as it was to be the first of many such nights, similar to many others I've described in other stories. Suffice it to say that my little Dixie Pixie was thoroughly impressed. As she returned to bed late Sunday morning after walking her newest lover to the front door, she threw a bath towel over the wet spot they'd just made, sighing happily,

"Wow! Just fuckin' wow! Been a while since your little Cajun girl's been fucked that good, sugar, tu sais (you know)?"

When I just mumbled a sleepy response about his seeming kind of quirky, she responded,

"Well, you better get used to it, 'cause I invited him to come back down here next weekend."

As the previous night had worn on, young Gary had lost some of his easy affability and become somewhat haughty and contentious, especially with me, and demanding of my wife, snapping his fingers at her and calling her bitch and ho. During the course of their many sexual activities, I'd noticed him eyeing me over her bobbing blond head as she blew him, fixing me with a prolonged contemptuous smile as he held out his glass, telling, not asking, me to make him another drink. I couldn't put my finger on anything specific but I had a nagging feeling this kid was going to be trouble. Little did I know how true that would be.

The confident young devil played her, making her wait a couple of weeks, by which time she was so horny for him she didn't even object when he wanted to fuck her in the ass, something Blondie wasn't particularly fond of. Even so, she let him do it a couple of times during the course of the night until I stepped in and made him stop, seeing that she was in real pain.

It was also during his second visit that I first cleaned her up after they fucked while Gary watched me do it, something he found very sensually satisfying. I soon learned, after his third night in our home that this young man was a good bit more complex than the other black guys Blondie had been to bed with. More than just quirky, he seemed intent on imposing his will on my wife, and to a lesser extent, on me, as well. After that third weekend, I told her I was getting bad vibes off this kid and that I feared he was real trouble. She agreed but still wanted to see him because the sex was so very good and so exciting. I feared she was becoming enamored of him, as she had my black boss whom she'd long ago confessed she loved. Thankfully, he was in Chicago and they could only get together occasionally.

But the most interesting part of her relationship with Gary would come a few months later, during a time that would prove to be quite eventful, full of new, exciting sexual adventures for both of us. I had put in a long day in Atlanta when I finally got back to my room at the airport Marriott. I was feeling no pain after spending the evening wining and dining a couple of mortgage bankers, who, as so often happens, had wanted to go to a glitzy strip club after we left the steak house. It was most definitely a classy establishment and commensurately expensive. I was thankful that my black boss had ceased nitpicking my entertainment expenses after he and Blondie had begun their affair. The strip club had been very upscale and the young ladies quite attractive, ensuring that I was half-drunk and definitely horny when I got to my room.

I decided it wasn't too late to call Blondie down in Mobile, so after pouring myself a nightcap, I dialed the number. She didn't pick up until the sixth ring, and wondering if I had wakened her, I asked, "Hey, babe, did I wake you up?" When she tersely told me no, there was a catch in her voice, causing me to wonder if she was angry with me about something. When I asked if she was okay, there was hesitation before she said she was fine, this time with a definite strained quality to her voice. And I realized I was getting only single-word responses.

With growing concern, I said, "You don't sound fine; you sound like you're pissed off at me about something, babe."

That was met with another terse response, "No--not mad," again with the edgy voice and no attempt to explain the reason for her tension.

The clouds began to dissipate in my alcohol fogged brain as I asked, with obvious suspicion, "You in bed, babe?"

Again a single syllable response, "Yes," and it finally got through to me: she was out of breath, either from stress or physical exertion, perhaps both, accounting for the terse answers.

I asked, "Who's there with you, Blondie?

That brought yet another abrupt response, an emphatic, almost petulant denial, "No one!"

Too emphatic, I thought with the dawning realization that I had probably interrupted my beautiful wife in the act of entertaining another man while I was several hundred miles away. It came as no surprise--the woman had very strong sexual appetites and was daringly, even recklessly promiscuous, delighting in picking up and fucking total strangers. Plus my frequent absences gave her all the opportunity she needed to conduct a very active extramarital sex life. But this was the first time that I'd actually caught my gorgeous little slutwife in the act.

With the rising awareness that I was getting aroused myself, I said, "Hey, relax, Blondie, it's okay, I am not pissed. Who is it? Anybody I know, or just some guy you picked up?"

There was a long silence, so I said again, "It's okay, babe, I promise I'm not upset--in fact, I'm turned on by the idea. So tell me who it is, okay?"

Finally capitulating, she came clean, "Gary!" and it took me a moment to make the connection: the black bartender. Momentarily thunderstruck by the disclosure that my sexy, blonde wife was sleeping with a black guy while I was out of town, I had to gather myself before asking her,

"Were you fucking when I called?" After another extended pause, Blondie finally relented,

"Yeah, we were just startin' to get into it good when you called, sugar. Look, I'm sorry..."

I said, "Hey, it's okay, Blondie. He got his dick in you right now?"

She giggled nervously, sounding very stoned, "Yeah, I couldn't get him to stop when I answered the phone--he just slowed down a little, quit pumpin' so hard, but he just would not stop. That's why I couldn't get my breath back enough to talk to you. Je suis désolé (I'm sorry), cher."

She grunted and moaned, "Oh yeah, baby," then, "Sorry but he's really startin' to move again."

My dick was suddenly rock hard as I said, "That's okay babe, you go right ahead and respond to him--just let me talk to you and listen to the action. You fuck him good, baby, give it to him, give that young black stud your hot white pussy, just let go and give it to him really good, just like you were before I called and interrupted you."

After another gasped, "Oh, God yeah, baby!" she replied with a soft, throaty chuckle, "You devil, you wanna listen while I go ahead and fuck him, huh?"

As I reassured her I did, I heard a semi-muffled male voice in the background, "Tol' ya he'd like it. He a damn cuck ain't he?" I noted the disdain but that just excited me further.

My wife was moaning more loudly now as her young black stud pumped that big, thick black cock in and out of her tight pussy, but it sounded like she'd laid the phone down. I had to call out her name loudly three times before I heard a whispered, "Yeah, baby?"

I said, "Don't put the phone down. Keep talking to me, Blondie, tell me how it feels, okay?"

She replied, "Can't when he's kissin' me so hot like that. Hard to talk with that big ol' sexy tongue in my mouth, you know?"

Chuckling, I said, "Let me talk to Gary for a minute."

When he came on, I said, "Our agreement was that I'd let you fuck my wife when I was home if you wouldn't come sniffing around trying to do it when I wasn't in town, remember?"

"Yeah, well, maybe you gonna hafta take that up with your wife, dude, cause that's between you an' her. She the one always come lookin' fo' some more nigga dick, callin' me up an' hangin' round the bar when you outta town." After a pause he asked, "An' you 'spect me to turn down some fine white pussy like this when she damn near beggin' me to come over here an' fuck her? C'mon, man, that shit ain't gonna happen."

Anger flashed through me but I knew he was telling the truth, knew that my sweet little tramp simply loved the thrill of illicit sex too much to not go playing around when her husband was out of town. And a huge part of that thrill for my wife was the "forbidden fruit" aspect of it, cheating on our agreement that she'd only fuck other men when I was present. What the hell, I occasionally got laid when traveling, so I'd be a huge hypocrite to fault her for indulging her desires similarly.

It further occurred to me that young Gary had become a bit impudent in the course of making subsequent visits to our home to fuck my wife. I'd told Blondie that I thought he was a militant black, a definite racist and a probable con artist who might eventually turn into trouble for us, and she had reluctantly agreed. But she'd also made it abundantly clear to me that she wanted to continue to see him, saying that, bad boy or not, the handsome devil was still the best lover among those she considered her regulars right now. Except, of course, for Victor, who was, also of course, 150 miles away in New Orleans and not readily available when she got a sudden itch for another taste of "forbidden" interracial action.

Indistinct sounds of passion were coming from my wife through the phone, "Yeah, yeah, baby, fuck me--gimme that cock!" and suddenly, I was startled to hear her say a partially inaudible outburst that clearly contained the terms "love" and "nigga". I called out her name several times and when she came back on line panting, I asked her what the hell was going on and why she was using that term. She said somewhat breathlessly,

"It's okay, babe, it turns him on for me to tell him that I prefer nigga dick to white an' that I love his big ol' black nigga dick."

"An' he makes me say nigga cause he gets off hearin' his white woman use that word when we're foolin' around.

That possessive 'his white woman' registered on me a bit uncomfortably. As I had previously warned Blondie, it appeared this militant young black man was indeed becoming a problem.

She giggled, "He got me started doin' it a while back--gets him all excited to hear a white woman say black guys are better in bed than white guys." I heard Gary in the background and she said a muffled, "Okay, okay, you naughty boy."

Coming back to the phone, she purred sexily, "He wants you to hear us talkin' dirty, babe. Hold on, he's kissin' my neck an' tellin' me to kiss him an' talk dirty so you can hear it. I'm gonna put this on speakerphone, okay?"

I pressed the speaker button on my own phone and suddenly my hotel room was filled with the hollow disembodied, but highly erotic, faint sounds of impassioned kissing for a minute or so, then a loud gasp and my wife's panting voice,

"Oh God yes, baby, gimme that big nigga dick! Fuck my white pussy with your big ol' black cock, baby! God I love your big ol' nigga dick in my white pussy!"

There came more kissing sounds then Gary's voice, "Hey, Rick, I got my big black dick in your pretty little white wife, fuckin her slow an' easy an' deep, an' kissin' that sexy mouth, an' your hot little nigga-fuckin' wife, she be lovin it, ain't ya, bitch?"

A low moan filled the room, "Oooh, yeah, lover, I love kissin' an' fuckin' big handsome nigga studs--can't get enough of your big fat nigga dicks, sugar." Another moan of pleasure, "Oh fuck yeah! It feels so fuckin' wonderful movin' around in me nice an' slow like this. Just keep doin' that, baby, an' you're gonna have me comin' all over your nigga dick, you sexy stud. You're gonna make me come all over that big ol' thick nigga dick!"

That sounded so completely contrived he had to be coaching her, I thought, but she was certainly going along with it.

After another brief interval of kissing murmurs and moans, I heard a soft, "Rick, you still listenin', babe?" When I confirmed that I wasn't going anywhere, being too horny to sleep, she asked,

"You jackin' off, babe?" When I confirmed I was indeed stroking my member as I listened to them, she purred softly, "Good, I wanna get both my studs off tonight. Wish you were here to fuck me when Gary gets finished. The way I'm feelin' right this minute I sure wouldn't mind havin' another man here right now."

I thought sarcastically, well that's kind of difficult when you bring your boyfriend home while I'm out of town, but didn't say it as I heard them in a muffled exchange. I thought I heard Gary say "Lonzo" and "again" and definitely heard Blondie quickly shush him.

When I inquired, "Lonzo?" my wife, sounding trapped once again, said resignedly,

"Smart-ass was reminding me that I could've had two men if I'd let him bring Lonzo along."

I said, "And just who the hell is Lonzo?" but she was talking to her lover. I heard her moan,

"I know, baby, maybe next time, but right now if you just keep fuckin' me nice an' slow like this you're gonna make us both come."

Then to me she explained resignedly, "His cousin--Gary has some family here, the ones that didn't move up north when his folks did--so he's always after me to fuck his cousin." She paused, then explained, "But Alonzo's kind of a pain in the ass. He's a hyper kid in his early 20's, always jivin' an' testifyin' nonstop."

Noting her use of black idiom, I said quietly, "You mean 'fuck his cousin again, don't you?" and when she remained guiltily silent, I said, "Blondie, I distinctly heard Gary say 'again' so I'm willing to bet you've let young Lonzo fuck you before haven't you?"

She groaned in exasperation, hissed a sibilant, "Merde (Shit)! Gary, you damned bigmouth!" before sighing resignedly to me, "Okay, busted. Yeah, I let Gary bring him over that long weekend you were in Chicago for that conference. He's been here a coupla times since with Gary but that's it, I swear."

"Why didn't you let Gary bring him this time," I asked, and after a moment, she answered,

"Kid's a damned Energizer Bunny. I have a fairly busy schedule tomorrow an' just simply didn't feel up to takin' on two can't-get-enough young studs tonight. Last time they kept at me all damn night. Horny young devils couldn't get enough of this ol' white broad's pussy an' wouldn't let me sleep. I lost count of how many times they fucked me but I'll bet both of 'em got their nuts off at least three times."

With a tone of smugness, she cooed, "But then, so did mama." From her slowed speech and gloating tone, I began to suspect she was really stoned. I knew young Gary did some dealing as a sideline to his bartending and sometimes had some really potent weed. I just hoped she wasn't letting him give her any cocaine or pills--or worse. Blacks were the biggest dealers and users of heroin in the Mobile area. And here was my horny wife, repeatedly letting a known drug dealer stay all night, plying her with drugs. We were most definitely going to have a serious discussion regarding that when I got home tomorrow evening.

I heard her say to the young black man in my bed, "Mmm, yeah, baby, just keep hittin' that pussy nice an' slow, just like you're doin' now, okay?"

I heard Gary say something about Lonzo, then my wife's sensual giggle, "Yeah, that's for sure. I went to sleep with that baby's dick still in me an' he woke me up next mornin' with my legs spread wide tryin' to put it in again. An' you're right, sweet boy, little Blondie got herself a whole buncha nigga jizz that night, didn't she? Now just shut up an' concentrate on takin' care of business, okay?"

I heard Gary say cuck again and she laughed before taunting me, "Well, darlin', I suppose you wanna stick around an' listen to this young stud come in me, hmm?"

When I responded affirmatively, she crooned, " It won't be too much longer, cher, so just be patient. He gave me a huge load earlier this evenin' when he first got over here." Another giggle, "Said he'd been savin' it up for his favorite white pussy."

She murmured huskily, "But we'd already been fuckin' again for nearly a half hour when you called so he's gotta be gettin' close to goin' off again. He's always good for at least two good ones an' I'll get him off soon, I promise, babe, so lemme get to it, okay?"

With a tone of concern, she asked, "You still jackin' off, honey?" and when I replied that I was, she sighed, "Good. I feel kinda guilty layin' here gettin' fucked so good while you're sittin' there all by yourself in a hotel room. I hope you can get your nuts off when he comes in me."