Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 01bySpectator1©
Author's Note: This is purely a work of fiction based on the Interracial theme. Past experience has taught me that many don't understand this category, especially the inner struggles of a cuckold husband. The struggle is this: The husband wants his wife to be a slut for other men and he doesn't want his wife to be a slut for other men. That's the basis of almost every Interracial cuckold story. The writer Shooter explains it very well in some of his submissions. Thanks -- and remember it's a story.
The birth of a fantasy
It was only a fantasy, really. And though it played a bit of a role in our fuck sessions, it was never something I expected, or even wanted to actually happen. I'd make an offhand comment while we were fucking about how she'd feel with a hard Black cock in her. Initially she didn't respond or make any comment. She knew the thought got me off.
Gradually over a few years I'd elaborate on Black guys fucking her and eventually would describe to her whole weekends of her being rammed in every hole by four or five Black cocks.
"Just imagine you in a hotel room with five Black guys," I'd say. "You arrive Friday night and just fuck until I pick you up Monday. Five cocks using every hole, no condoms."
This didn't at first bring much response, and I'd describe how each Black cock would stretch her out, pound mercilessly into her dripping pussy, and explode with cupfuls of cum that would fill her white body with millions of Black man's sperm. I'd describe how that one sperm would beat all odds and plunge into her vulnerable egg to start a Black baby inside her womb.
But these descriptions of interracial sex must have been building up, because I did begin to notice that she was more responsive to these verbalizations of my fantasy, and the mere mention would immediately increase the flow of her juices and the heat of her pussy.
I'd describe the hotel gangbangs in detail, and once asked her how many times she thought each guy would fuck her in the course of three nights. To my surprise she answered as she thrust her hips up and my cock slurped deep into her soaked cunt.
"Eleven," she said seconds after I'd blown my cum into her.
"You mean you'd be fucked 55 times over the weekend," I asked as her small white body lay exhausted from fucking. She was wet and hot, spread like a whore, and my cum ouzed out of her in big globs.
She smiled coyly up at me and said I was good at math.
This was great for me. Susan's horny as hell on a bad day, but with this increased stimulation she could get wild. But even then, I never expected anything more than talk.
It got hotter and hotter over the next few weeks, and it was my wife bringing up the subject as our fuck sessions became more frequent and her animal rutting became more fevered.
Soon the fantasy blossomed into full form with her spending weekends (and then weeks) in the 'hood' where her tiny white body was used by all manner of 'thugs,' 'gangsters,' 'gangbangers,' and other stereotypical versions of Black men. She would be their 'white ho bitch,' servicing entire Black gangs or whole Black neighbourhoods.
I know it was over the top, but it was just a fantasy, and she too seemed to be really getting into it.
There were scenes of her dressed like a slut being led into Black bars and pool halls where she'd be taken to back rooms, or spread out on pool tables for the enjoyment of all.
Even in the daytime if we were driving through city streets she'd point out a bar and say something like: "What do you think? Maybe that's the place."
We even stopped and had supper at one. We covertly looked around at all the Black guys, but it was nothing like the visions in my stories. It was just like any other bar with the exception that there were few white people. We were basically left alone, although I got a few scowls and Susan got a few appreciative stares.
But I guess it sparked something in my wife. It was the point where fantasy and reality began to blend. From then on I guess it had become an inevitable downhill snowball.
For instance, one day we went to rent a movie. She liked the gushy romances and that's what I expected she'd look at. And she did, and picked out one of those Pretty in Pink type movies. But we kept looking and it was she who suggested we go through the curtain to the 'adult' section.
"You pick out one and I'll pick out one," she said.
She had never been in such a place, and I think it was kind of overwhelming for her – all the covers with cocks, cunts, gaping asses, and cum-covered tits. But she started at one end and worked her way around. I went right to the interracial section and picked out something called "Interracial Creampie VI.' She eventually picked out a Blacks on Blonds compilation.
The movies blew her mind – to say the least. We fucked during, between, after. She was wild and wet and her being so wild and wet just drove me to hard-on after hard-on. I think I came in her four times in three hours. And she seemed to be cuming constantly.
Later that same night I burned both CDs and showed her how to download porn from the Internet.
"You can get anything you want," I explained. "Interracial, gay, lesbian, dildo, machine, animal – you name it. Lots of incest, taboo, rape."
Needless to say the computer was going 24 hours a day and disc after disc of interracial porn piled up beside the computer. Of course it was all basically the same, and Susan became so used to it that it just became her normal TV-watching fare. No more Oprah or Dr. Phil. Just 'Black Dicks in White Chicks,' or 'Monsters of Cock,' or "Dogfart.'
And she was always wet and ready. In fact after work or on weekends she was now just wearing a short robe.
"For easy access," I asked once.
In reply her hand went down to her swollen pussy as her eyes were glued to a scene of a mammoth Black cock delivering a load of jism into the similarly swollen cunt of some small, blonde porn star.
"Right now anybody could have access," she replied. "Anybody at all."
Her fingers were making a circular motion on her engorged clit, and pussy juice glistened from between her soaked lips.
This was getting too good. She was begging for sex almost every night, and would pretty much fuck on demand.
Then one night as we fucked (the TV screen showing close-ups of the most improbably large Black cock stuffing a petite white woman's cunt) she asked why I wasn't finding her these Black cocks. I brushed it off with a bit of a laugh. She stopped her thrusting.
"No, I'm serious," she said, sweat glistening on her firm tits and stomach. "You've been talking about it for years. If you're serious, start looking."
I was floored because she was dead serious.
"Remember all your talk about me being Black-owned? And getting pregnant by Black men? Well, I've been waiting," she said, locking my eyes with an unflinching stare.
I was too shocked to say anything. All those nights of fucking and I thought I was the one fantasizing.
"Well, is it just talk," she asked. "Just a fantasy for you to get your rocks off? Maybe you really couldn't handle it."
I knew what she was talking about. I had told her many times that if/when she started fucking Black cock on a regular basis, that eventually she would become the exclusive property of whoever the dominant Black bull was – Black owned. He, and his friends, would probably forbid her to have any more white cock.
While it was just fantasy when I told it, I knew in my heart that if it ever did happen, that's exactly the way things would progress. And when she had asked me what I would do, I had always told her I would just have to jerk off.
Now I was faced with that very real possibility. But even then I didn't think it would go that far. I took a chance.
"You know I can handle it," I said bravely. "Remember the first time you sucked a guy off and swallowed? It was Dave, and I didn't get jealous even though you had never even sucked my cock at all. And when Mike taught you anal? And to this day I've never cum in your mouth or had my cock in your ass – and plenty of other guys have used both many, many times."
"Yes, but you still get to use my pussy," she said. "If I start fucking Black guys, you wouldn't even get that."
She was right, and I had a brief flash of my future sex life -- Susan spread wide and Black cock after Black cock stretching her out and depositing big loads of cum into her while I stood at the doorway, cock in hand, jerking off.
"It's not that I wouldn't want your cock," she said. "It's just the way it would have to be. And if it went like you always said, I'd be fucking a Black guy, or two, or three, at least a couple of nights a week. Do you honestly think I'd even feel your cock in me?"
I had to admit she was probably right. I could picture her lying there looking at her fingernails patiently waiting for me to cum.
I was thinking of the consequences of this fantasy coming true and suddenly it was becoming less and less emotionally appealing though my cock was telling me exactly the opposite. I was rock hard inside her sopping wet cunt, and from the way she was gently moving her hips, I knew she knew.
And of course my gaze just had to fall on her dresser where her birth control pills were nestled between a jewelry box and a vibrator. I knew those could eventually end up in the trash bin. It was part of the fantasy. She was 42 but completely capable of getting pregnant.
Finally I looked down at her again. Our eyes locked.
"You're serious," I asked. "You would really want me to start looking?"
"It was your fantasy," she said evenly. "You told it so well, now it's mine. I guess it proves that you should be careful of what you wish for. And I want it now – not next month or next year."
That basically settled it. I knew Susan, and there was no room for debate. And if it happened, there would be no halfway. With her it would be all or nothing.
"I'll start looking," I said. I don't know if I said it reluctantly or enthusiastically.
The next day we discussed it again, and I asked her to give me some idea of the types of Black men, their ages, personalities etc.
"I don't care who they are," she said. "It has to be real. It's not like picking something out of a catalogue. It has to be spontaneous – from the hip, so to speak."
Our friend Dave was a starting point. He'd been fucking my wife off and on for about five or six years. He knew lots of people and was online all the time. So we invited him over and during an evening of unbridled fucking I filled him in on my wife's wishes.
As the interracial videos flitted across the screen, and he and Susan fucked in all manner of positions, I was aware that the fantasy/reality blend was into a new stage. She was on her hands and knees, Dave's large cock to the hilt in her ass, and his balls pumping his cum into her bowels. She screamed as his hot jism splashed into her bowels, but her eyes never left the TV.
Later Dave got on our computer, called up his own MSN Messenger, and copied half a dozen of his contacts for me.
"Don't contact them until I've had a chance to talk to them," he said. "I'll fill them in and tell them to expect contact in the next few days."
I looked at their nicknames: Stallion, Shaft, Blackdog, Bull, AmanCalledHorse, and Eugene.
Susan looked at them too, and immediately pulled up profiles on them all. Some had head and shoulder pictures, others cock pictures. They all lived in a 20-minute radius. And Susan was horny again.
It was Susan who contacted them. I never had a chance. And she set up coffee meets with each one and over the next week we met them all at different times at a local cafe. And Susan being direct, there was no beating around the bush. She wanted Black cock and if they could provide it, they were in, so to speak.
Needless to say, all six were willing. They were all different, and from different backgrounds.
Shaft (Jonah) was an instructor at the local community college. He was tall and athletic in his late 30s. Married and with a good sense of humour.
Stallion (James) was in his early 20s and worked as a cook in a small restaurant. He was of medium height, but muscular with a bit of a chip on his shoulder. It was like he deserved my wife's cunt.
Blackdog (William) was mid-30s, claimed he worked as a bouncer, was well over six feet tall, and was loud, and uncompromising. During the coffee meet he squeezed Susan into the booth and from across the table I knew his hands were all over her. (She later confirmed.) He had a steel glint in his eyes and I pegged him as the head bull in my wife's future sex life. After the meeting, she agreed he was the most likely to succeed.
Bull (Harold) was a gym teacher in his early 40s, a family man, in good shape, and claimed to be every white woman's dream cum true. He was good-natured but a follower, not a leader.
Horse (Blair) turned out to live up to his name. He was late teens, and as we eventually found out was hung like a horse. I figured he would be William's deputy. He didn't seem to do anything – no school, no job.
Eugene was the odd man out. He was 45. Never married. And had been a practicing doctor for 20 years. He had a bland personality, but was nice enough. He was the guy who would eventually provide HIV testing, and was a pro at fertility. Even after that first meeting Susan said he would be a good person to have around. And indeed he was.
She told each guy that she was meeting five other guys and the plan was that each would fuck her regularly, with me present. They all agreed to the sharing of her cunt, and none had problems with cameras or videos as long as their faces weren't seen.
Susan set up sessions with all of them for Friday and Saturday evenings over the next three weeks, starting with William and then Blair. I don't know if they were good choices for the first time, but their actions certainly cut to the chase and set the tone and pace of things to come.
Susan and I were no strangers to MFM threesomes. We had done plenty over the years. We both noticed certain patterns with the men. The first fuck session could be awkward with me there, and many times she would do a guy solo two or three times before a session was set up that included me. They were always nice, polite, considerate. But as the sessions continued, some became more possessive and others had had their fun and eventually disappeared – or found girlfriends or other sluts like my wife.
But some did try to manipulate things and would end up persuading her for more solo fucking, leaving me out. Or showing up with friends during solo sessions. But she usually ended up tapering it off with guys like that.
I knew right away William would start off charming. But he would whisper to her, convince her, manipulate her more and more with each session. He's a great guy, but he didn't disappoint in the persuasion category. His quest for control started the very first night.