Emily, BBC, and Me Ch. 01

WARNING: This is an interracial cuckolding story, with plenty of humiliation and gay cuckold behavior. If these themes make you squeamish in any way, then PLEASE do not read my story. Just skip it. For folks who enjoy interracial cuckolding with humiliation and gay cuckold behavior, I hope you do enjoy it. Let me know!

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In life overall, I'm a very lucky guy. I have had the good fortune to be born into a well-educated, well-off American family. Admittedly, it doesn't hurt that we're white. I'm pretty tall, at 5'11". Most people seem to think I'm handsome, to boot, with a good-looking face, thick brown hair, and broad shoulders. I always wished I had more chiseled features rather than softer ones, as I do--but who gets all the luck, right? Further, I'm smart and hard-working, and I've managed to become a successful young attorney at a solid law firm, after going to top schools.

My love life has been no exception to my food fortune, either, as five years ago, at 28, I became happily married to my freshman-year sweetheart, and my first love, Emily. My name is Jeff. Now, I'm 33, and Emily is just a few months younger.

For me, Emily is and always has been what people call "the whole package." Sweet, kind, cute, soft-spoken, intelligent--brilliant even--and with an introverted shyness that compliments my own out-going personality--and, to me, very sexy. We met and fell in love in the spring of freshman year at college together.

Of course, since I'm sharing on Literotica, I should take a moment to describe Emily physically, too. You should start by imagining the cutest, most adorable, petite nerdy girl with whom you went to high school or college. The one that you thought is sexy as hell and would love to fuck for the rest of your life, even though she doesn't look like a model. She's of average height, with a petite frame. Her face is cute and adorable rather than gorgeous, longer rather than rounder--a pretty oval shape--with an almost perfect little nose. Her mouth is petite and kissable, with regular lips, not even extra pouty or anything. Her bright blue-gray eyes are usually hidden a little by glasses, though occasionally she wears contacts. She has small ears that are great to nibble on. Her hair is straight, dark blond, and long--roughly to her shoulder blades when worn back and down. Her breasts are a modest b-cup but perky. Under her usually loose clothes, Emily, at 5'5" has very sexy, petite curves, with a cute bottom and nice hips. Her thin legs look perfect for her slender frame. Her sweet, demure, and shy personality are what make her sexy as much as her looks. All of Emily's male friends-- including all of my pals--would love to fuck her. My best friend, Gary, even admitted it to me once while drunk, that he would love to fuck her. To top it off, Emily doesn't seem to realize how attractive she is overall and still carries herself modestly. That's Emily.

I fell in love with Emily almost instantly when we started dating at age 18, fifteen years ago now. Emily took a little longer to develop an attachment to me. We lost our virginity to each other. But as happens so often when you're young, our relationship had its ups and downs--including a long stretch where schooling took us far away from each other, and we dated other people.

But five years ago, when Emily had just started on her doctoral degree in molecular biology, and I had just finished law school, both in our hometown, we rekindled our romance and soon were married. We were married two years when the events I am about to describe began--about three years ago.

Things were going along generally well for Emily and me. She was finding school challenging but doable. I was more comfortable at my first law firm than I expected to be, and enjoying working on fast-moving deals. We were also, it seemed, doing well with each other. We were enjoying each other's company. Sex was delightful.

And, yet, after a couple of years of married life I developed a sense that something was a little off. Emily seemed to be enjoying sex. I didn't think she was faking it with me. But somehow it seemed that she was a little less enthusiastic and excited than when we were first involved. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just that we had been together longer or we were a little older and a bit jaded. Maybe it was only an insecurity in my head--because Emily had gotten even more beautiful with age. Maybe I was anxious because we had started to talk more seriously about trying to have a baby soon.

Still, it nagged at me for several weeks. Once the thought occurred to me, it never left. I couldn't shake the feeling that things were off between us.

Finally, I worked up the courage to ask Emily about it. I waited until a peaceful Sunday afternoon while we were catching up on some news shows together, as we frequently enjoyed doing. I asked Emily if we could pause for a few minutes to chat. We were on the sofa next to each other.

"Emily," I started. "This isn't easy for me to ask, and I'm sorry that there isn't really a good way to do it, but this is something I just can't carry around by myself any longer."

I held her hand and paused. She looked at me sweetly and concerned. "What is it, Sweetheart? You know you can talk to me about anything," she offered.

"Well," I continued. "This could just be in my head, but something feels not quite right between us in the bedroom... Don't get me wrong, I am fabulously turned on to you, and you are a sweet and generous lover..."

I was hoping she might jump in to say something. But she didn't. She just waited for me to continue.

"But I have this weird feeling that I'm not satisfying you the way I did when we first fell in love... Maybe this is inevitable with the loss of novelty and the passing in time... I don't know, but it seemed if I brought it up, maybe I could learn something that I could *do* differently to help you be more satisfied, to help you have a better time."

It was my turn to stop and wait.

Emily paused. She looked down. She fidgeted with the hand I wasn't holding, flicking her fingers nervously. Finally, after a few moments she spoke.

"Darling," Emily began. "I'm so sorry. Honestly I was hoping you simply would never notice. I'm so, so sorry!" Then she broke into a giant, whaling sob.

I tried my best to comfort her, while wondering what could be so awful. At last she explained more. "I guess I had better explain,," Emily began, now that she had composed herself. "You see, just before we got back together, I had fallen in love with someone else. An attractive but egotistical guy named Izaak or 'Ice' as a nickname... I really was mad for him, but eventually I realized that the relationship wouldn't make for a happy long-term future, and I managed to break it off... I started losing myself in the relationship in a way that I didn't like, and it wasn't emotionally well-balanced, and so I ended it."

"Yeah, okay," I said. "And so? I've had other relationships, too, when we were in different cities. Some of them also with intense feelings, Em."

"Well, that's the thing, Darling," Emily continued. "These were not just intense feelings... I was hoping to avoid telling you, but I guess I can't... I was in love with Ice. Truly head over heels. But it wasn't only that. Also sex with him was amazing... more amazing than I had ever imagined sex could be..."

Although Emily tried to leave it at that, I pressed her to tell me more. Maybe I was being a masochist. Or maybe on some level I knew it would turn me on. Or maybe I just knew it was important for me to better understand the situation.

Emily resisted, and we argued for several minutes. Finally she gave in when I explained that she couldn't just make such a shocking statement and expect to leave it at that. Finally, she had to agree.

"Ok, Jeff!! Alright! That's fair! If you really want to hear more, you deserve to hear more. But I warn you that you might not like hearing it!" she yelled at me. "It's on you now if you regret hearing it! So here it is... Ice is a really huge black guy, a former football player, as it happens. I had never really thought a guy like him would be an interesting possibility for me until we met at a party, and he started flirting with me... I learned later that he likes more academic type girls like me the best, almost always... Soon, we were making out in a corner, and things progressed from there... He was so sexy to me, I even went home with them that very first night that I met him, and we just really clicked from there... With Ice, I can tell you the stereotype about big black guys is true... Ice has a huge dick, and he really knows how to use it... I was hoping the memory of sex with him would just fade away... And for a time it did... For a while it was overwhelmed by the excitement of being newlyweds... But now it's back... The memories of fucking Ice are back, and back powerfully... Honey, I really miss his big black cock!! I'm so, so, so sorry... But I think about Ice's cock and him almost every day. Sometimes multiple times a day and often right in the middle of our lovemaking, even! Sex with Ice was a million times more intense than sex with you! It was on a whole other level! Like in a different galaxy!! He fucked me deeper and better than I ever though anyone could. And he also brought out my wild side! Ice even shared me with friends sometimes--and I loved getting fucked by their huge black cocks, too! Oh... I'm so, so sorry!!!" And she burst into tears again.

Meanwhile, I realized that my dick had gotten steel-hard in my pants from hearing that my petite sweet wife had been in love with a big black guy and had *loved* getting owned by his giant cock! And by his friends, to boot!

I loved interracial porn--it had gotten me through several lonely stretches in life--and imagining Emily getting black fucked was a long-time fantasy of mine. Wow!!! To think it had happened in real life?!! And Emily liked it so much that she really missed it as well!! She missed it all the time! Wow!!

My wife had just confessed to me, essentially, that she was a BBC addict on the inside! What a turn on!

I comforted her quietly as we cuddled, and thought over what to say next. I didn't have much choice, I realized. Not if I wanted a happy and fulfilling marriage. I needed to be honest.

"Emily," I began again. "I really appreciate your opening up to me. I love you so much. I couldn't bear it if you felt you had to keep that from me forever. I'm man enough. I don't measure myself only by my abilities as a lover. I know my penis isn't the biggest and that there are more masculine, 'hotter' men out there than me. I can understand your being in love with someone like Ice..."

I paused and then continued. "This next bit is a little embarrassing... But I'm sure you're uncomfortable also so I might as well get this out there, too."

"You can tell me anything, Boo," Emily said sweetly.

"Well," I said. "It turns out your interests are, shall we say, perhaps 'compatible' with my own... You see, I've long enjoyed interracial sex as a fantasy." I decided not to tell her about the porn, specifically. "I've even fantasized about watching you get fucked by a big black cock, or several... And--this is hard for me to admit--I've even dreamed of helping you in servicing your imaginary black lovers in my mind! Look, us talking about this has me rock hard even!" And I put her hand lightly on my crotch.

"Wow! You really are turned on!" Emily said. Then she paused before giving me a sly smile and continuing. "You really are excited that I might rather fuck big black cocks than you?! You really *do* like that I find black men with giant cocks more exciting??! You like that they give me bigger... better... longer... and *much* more frequent--orgasms than you have or ever could?? You even like that I find it more *emotionally* fulfilling on some level to fuck a super-masculine black guy than you?!? It turns you on that I might like to be gangbanged by alpha black men with giant cocks again?!? You like the idea that I might come home to you from a night of black sex and have you clean me out with your tongue?? How about that I might have you clean the cock of my black lover or even suck him to hardness before we fuck?? Would you meet up with and suck off my BBC lover when I am traveling to keep him from being lonely??"

Emily really poured it on, as she made similar statements for what seemed like a full minute. I nodded at every scenario, as all of them played into my fantasies of being her interracial bi cuckold. And Emily seemed to enjoy testing me.

"Yes... As unlikely as it may be, that is all true. Everything you just said. One-hundred and ten percent," I responded. "So, now the question is, what do we do with this information?"

We talked a little bit more before agreeing to table it until we had each had a chance to process our discussion and mull on it. After all, this was a lot of new information we had each shared!

That night--while we didn't discuss it--we both knew why our sex was hotter than usual. Our fantasies were in the air and connecting us. We were closer. I think we were both relieved and more relaxed. For the next several days, we had sex every night, and each night with the same benefit. We were smiling and winking at each other more, and playing around more as we moved about during our evenings at home.

The following weekend was when we talked about Ice and black cocks again. As you're probably imagining, it wasn't hard for us to come to an understanding. We agreed it would be too risky to our marriage for Emily to hook up with Ice--who had moved away in any event--and instead we decided to try adding new big black cocks into our married life.

Emily was giddy with excitement and enthusiasm. Her excitement only fueled my own to another level. Wow, this seemed like it was going to be astounding and hot!

We made only a few ground rules. First, Emily agreed to tell me everything, for those times that I wasn't around to watch. Second, we would be careful in selecting partners, especially since she intended usually to fuck bareback. Emily really disliked the feeling of condoms during sex. Third, she would continue to take the pill so this new lifestyle wouldn't lead to an unexpected black baby. Fourth, if I were to watch in person, I would have to promise to follow her lead and suck on any BBC if she so commanded.

We realized Emily had some chance of getting knocked up or catching something, and we decided to do our best to minimize that and deal with it if it happened. We both were too turned on to our now-shared BBC ambitions to let worries stop us.

I knew Emily didn't believe in abortion, and I was secretly turned on also to think she might end up black 'bred' by accident.

I didn't talk about it, but I was excited that Emily might well end up "black only," and I would be relegated to being her subservient celibate cuckold.

I asked Emily what she thought about selecting her BBC partners. "Usually you're pretty shy, Em," I reminded her. "How are you thinking about getting sex partners, do you think, as a married woman?"

"Oh, Boo," she said. "I've been looking into that. You're right that usually I've been shy. So, I've been getting some advice in online chat rooms. For one thing, people are really clear that you're my cuckold now. It's your job to be a follower now, when it comes to sex, not a leader. That means I am in charge of any worries or concerns. You're my beta cucky. You can google it later if you don't know what it means. I'll be calling you 'cucky' as it suits me. For now, I don't require that you call me anything special, but I might change my mind later... You are now to be low-power and low-status to empower me towards more fulfillment. That you will enjoy being my cuckold is of secondary concern... This leads me to saying that having you find me partners is completely out of the question--it would make you much too powerful..."

Hearing all that from Emily was a big turn on for me, but I tried not to show it.

Emily continued on. "...I've also learned that I should easily be able to stay shy and find lovers... My online friends have explained that it's easy for an attractive white woman, such as myself, to get black lovers. It's especially easy for a woman like me who's married and has her beta cuckold for financial support, like I have you, Dear."

I nodded deferentially, and Emily continued. "Apparently black men are not nearly as hesitant and insecure as white guys, not so worried about getting rejected. If a cute white wife like me flirts with a black guy, he will just go for it. So I think I'll just keep my wedding rings on and flirt a little--I'm not too shy to flirt--and see how that goes!"

I was dumbfounded, but it sounded logical to me, and I said so. Things were getting all set and ready to go! I'm not sure which one of us was more excited, Emily or me!

Emily had me eat her to an orgasm after our chat, and she was incredibly wet at the start--while I was rock hard--it would be really difficult to say which of us was more excited!

After I ate her to a decent-sized orgasm--no doubt as she fantasized about a BBC, perhaps even Ice's specifically--Emily left me, with me still totally clothed, to watch TV in another room. She told me in passing that I should beat myself off by myself, if I liked. She had no interest in taking care of my little cuckold dick, she said. I then beat off to a terrific orgasm, anyway, imagining Emily with a BBC soon.

From our initial agreement, it quickly became a nearly non-stop sequence of black lovers for Emily, as life has played out over the few years since our decision.

She started with Lawrence, a younger acquaintance. Just twenty-four, he was a massive black guy and former basketball player with whom Emily enjoyed chatting at our gym. He and Emily had been flirting, and she finally gave him a more affirmative signal when he mentioned he was going for a beer after working out. She smiled a little longer at Lawrence and asked him a few small questions. He caught onto her vibe and asked her along--simple as that--is what she told me. She came home at 3am with a swollen, dripping pussy and eager to tell me about his ten-inch ramrod and their hours of bareback fucking. She lost count of his orgasms as well as her own, she said.

Happily, Emily had some hot pictures on her phone to share that Lawrence had given her from his home videography system. The reality of seeing my cute white wife fucking this BBC hunk well exceeded even my lofty expectations. To my astonishment, Emily took his huge dick balls deep in a number of positions. I had thought it would be weeks--or at least days--before her petite frame would be capable of taking a BBC balls deep, but it only took part of a night's fucking! There were also several shots of her amorously french kissing Lawrence that were extremely hot.

I couldn't believe how hard my dick got looking at her pictures. My five incher dripped precum at a rate I don't think I had felt since a teenager.

I loved cleaning Emily's sloppy and inflamed pussy with my mouth and tongue--an activity that seemed to take an hour!--while she insisted that neither of us touch my inflamed little dick. She had me keep my jeans and underwear on to help my self-discipline. After I was done cleaning her and incidentally had licked her to an additional orgasm, she had me beat off into her hands and then fed me my own cum--just like in some of my favorite pornos.

It was one of my best orgasms ever--which was a little embarrassing for me... without Emily even so much as touching my dick!

Emily saw Lawrence two or three times a week for the better part of a year, usually at his place. Each time she got home, I loved looking at her photos and video clips and cleaning her various body parts of their combined juices.