tagInterracial LoveI Call Him Mr. Tibbs

I Call Him Mr. Tibbs


There came a rustling sound followed by my wife's moaning voice. The sound of that voice whenever it moaned was much too familiar to me; it always got me going anytime I listened to it. The room was dark and I lay there on my back beside the bed trying to adjust my eyes to the bedroom's darkness. Beside me the bed was shaking. I heard what sounded like kisses. It was followed by a loud smack, then the sound of my wife bursting into giggles.

It was late in the night. The glowing dial of my watch stated the time as 02:27 a.m. My wife was in bed with her lover, Mr. Tibbs. He was a black man in his mid-thirties, tall and with an impressive athletic stature like that of an NBA player, and bore an uncanny resemblance to that famous Black actor Sidney Portier—I guess that's why he gave himself that name. I was lying on my back on a camp bed I had laid out beside the bed, wearing nothing but my boxer shorts. I lay there and went on listening to them, to the sounds they were making. My breathing was growing heavy with excitement, and I could feel my 'little man' starting to grow hard inside my shorts.

"You want me again, babe," came Tibbs' bedroom-like tenor voice.

"Ohhh yeah," answered Hailey, my wife. It was followed by the sound of more kisses. I lay there and tried imaging which part of his body her tongue and lips were wetting. "I want you all the time." Her voice was low and sultry. "I hope you've got more juice for me. 'Cause I ain't ready to call it a night yet."

"I've got all the juices in the world for you, babe."

My 'little man' stood within my shorts like a tent pole that would never fall and I wrapped my hand around it and started stroking it. My video camera lay on the floor beside my pillow. I'd filmed their fuck session earlier on and now they were playing with themselves, it seemed they were going to have another go at each other. I got the camera and stood up from where I lay and turned the camera on, flicking the night-vision switch.

There was my Hailey, sweeping locks of her short blonde hair off her face when her head bobbed down between her lover's open legs. I moved in closer and watched as her mouth sucked on his huge cock while her other hand cradled his balls. He had two huge set of balls, bigger than any of my golf balls, and a cock that just seemed to super-size my wife's pert lips. She forced her mouth down to swallow him, muttering a groan each time she did. She pulled back her lips and gave his prick a kiss before swallowing it once again. I came around to the other side of the bed to get a glimpse of Tibbs' reaction. He looked at the camera and flashed me a winning grin.

"Your wife's got a nice pair of mouth, white boy," he said to me. "She sure knows what to use it for."

"Yes sir, she does," I replied.

I had one hand holding the camera while my other kept stroking my pecker. This wasn't Tibbs' first night with us, though for every time he stayed in our home, something different seemed to happen. The home that I'd always known since Hailey and I got married five years ago seemed to undergo a different outlook—a different presence—whenever Tibbs was in it. The first time I'd seen that massive tool of his, my jaw had practically fallen to the floor. Every time he whipped it out to use on my wife, I kept imagining how much punishment her pussy would be undergoing ... but the moments I love most is watching him shoot every drop of cum he had in that hole and then letting me to lick it clean. His cum always tasted delicious in my mouth.

I return to the end of the bed filming my wife still working that black cock with all the love in the world. I listened to her moan as she licked her tongue from the bulbous head all the way down to the base, and when she was done, took his balls into her mouth and rolled them over her tongue. She gazed at me, into my camera's eye, fluttered her eye lashes at me then smiled. She looked so beautiful the way she did.

Tibbs sat up and pulled her towards him. Their lips found each other and they kissed fervently, passionately. His hand slipped between her legs and fingered her pussy and she squirmed in his grasp while she kept on stroking his big meat. He lay back on the bed and she straddled him. I stood behind her, still stroking myself, holding back my breath and listening to her groan softly as the head of his prick found the entrance to her pussy and drove inside it.

"Oooohhhh ...Oooohhhhh," she moaned deeply as his cock went in halfway while she lowered her ass down on him. Tibbs held her ass cheeks aside, pulled his cock halfway out, then drove it back inside her. This elicited further moans from Hailey; she was starting to enjoy herself already. She rested on Tibbs' chest and I watched as she surrendered her body to him. Tibbs took the controls like any brave captain would and proceeded to bang the hotness out of my wife's cunt.

Within minutes her moans became wanton cries as their fucking went on. Her ass cheeks bounced and shook from each slamming Tibbs gave to her. She hurled dirty words at him in-between calling his name. Her words seemed to drive him wild, inducing him towards punishing her cunt further and further.

"Ohh yes! Oh God ... Tibbs! You're fucking me so good!"

"Oh yeah," Tibbs responded amidst groans from himself and the bed suffering under their weight. He spoke to her with a school master's stern voice. "That's it, bitch! Take that dick! Tell daddy how much you love his dick!"

"Ohh daddy!" Hailey growled amidst moans. "Ohh daddy ... I love your fucking dick that's fucking me so very fucking much!"

My hand too was quickening its stroking and I barely knew I too was gasping in time with their fucking. I ran my tongue through my lips every few seconds, not willing to take my camera's eye off from the amateur movie I was filming. I was caught up in the ecstatic work-out I was doing.

At the last minute, Tibbs pushed my wife off him and had her lay on the bed with her face resting on the pillow. I caught a glimpse of his cock, massive and sturdy and wet with my wife's pussy juice. Tibbs never wore a rubber with my wife, though we both knew he was clean. Hailey lay there gasping, still recuperating from the pounding she'd just gotten when Tibbs returned for a second round. He came on top of her and Hailey bit down on the pillow and gave a loud groan. Her hands squeezed the bed sheets and her feet beat a drum-roll on the bed as Tibbs plunged the head of his cock into her second hole.

I listened to my wife groan louder with each gasp of breath she exhaled while Tibbs, unmindful of the hurt he was giving her, went on tearing her asshole. He too was grunting heavy, but it was nothing compared to the sight my video camera had of watching that shaft of his disappear halfway into my wife's anal hole and then pull back out. He went on fucking Hailey like that for the next couple of minutes until his grunts grew louder and more forced and Hailey too gave a lengthy cry as her lover emptied his load of jism inside her ass. I was stroking myself like mad, watching unflinchingly as he stroked the last traced of dripping cum over my wife's butt and then turned his snarling face towards me.

"Gimme that camera, white boy, and come get to work here," he said.

He wrenched the video camera off my hands before I even got a chance to say something. Though whenever he was around, it wasn't my place to say anything or make any decision-like words; my only rule was listen and obey, and obey I did. I dove for the bed where my lovely Hailey with her ass sticking up in the air, gasping from the bout of ass-fucking she'd just been given. Tibbs brought the camera's light on her ass for me to see clearly and I held her ass cheeks wide apart and drove my tongue as deep into her asshole that I could, slurping my tongue on her lover's juice. Hailey's ass shook in response to my actions and she reached a hand behind her ass and caressed my hair while I burrowed my face and cleaned up every drop of cum that was there.

"Uuhhh ... honey, that feels so good!" Hailey panted in between gasps.

I cleaned every trace of cum that littered her ass cheeks and when I was done slid my tongue downward to get at her pussy flesh. Hailey had climaxed while being ass-fucked by her lover, and now, with my tongue going to work on her, her body jittered and bounced till she exploded with a second orgasm. This was the way she loved me getting her off. She never ceased to praise my tongue and the way I used it on her. When I concluded my purpose, I left them and rushed into the bathroom and resumed my jerking off. I came in less than a minute, shooting my wad of cum into the toilet bowl; goose bumps made the hairs on my arms and back of my neck stand to attention while I did this. I washed my face in the sink and flushed the toilet before returning to the bedroom.

Tibbs was having Hailey suck his cock clean when I came to join them. He threw my camera back at me and slumped on the other side of the bed, falling asleep minutes later, while I returned to where I'd woken up by the foot of the bed. Hailey rubbed her fingers on my chest, asked me how my cumming had been.

"It was fun," I said, and really it always was for me.

"Did you enjoy watching him cum in my ass?"

"Yes, I very much did."

Although it was dark and I couldn't make out her face, I could tell she was smiling. "I'm glad you liked it, darling. I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered to her before she turned away from me and went to rest her head on her lover's torso. As for me, I turned to sleep on my shoulder. In my dreams I replayed the sight of Tibbs cumming inside my wife's anal hole and wished it had been my mouth he had cum inside instead. Come later tomorrow, I would transfer the video recording into my computer and download it into the archives of a cuckold forum I'm a member of. Other husbands there will go crazy once they set their eyes on this tape. Other black brothers too will be sending me messages, wanting to be next in line to screw Hailey. She loved the attention as much as I do, though for now I know she'll be sticking with Tibbs till otherwise.

All of these on my mind, I too soon fell asleep.


Misty Danbridge had her morning cut out for her the minute she woke up: she would go wake the kids up, Tommy and Paul, listen to them grumble as she coaxed them towards heading into the bathroom to shower up before returning to the bedroom to whisper to her husband to wake up. This was the typical way he preferred being woken since he usually spent his evenings consuming glasses of bourbon and sometimes plain Coors with his work buddies down at the Sandpit bar. Having done that, she hurried out of her night gown and beat her husband to the shower. She had little time to put on her clothes, which she usually did while hurrying down the passage to see how well her little boys were going with theirs. A quarter of an hour would have gone by when they'd be in the kitchen with her making breakfast. Her husband, Fred, who when done with his scrambled eggs and bacons usually picked up his cup of coffee and headed to their patio outside to observe the neighbourhood while he sipped from his mug.

Fred Dandrige was a thickset man in his forties with brooding features and a distrustful sense of the word. His cynical nature so ingrained in him, he kept his temper on a short leash and he had a sarcastic word for just about every man, woman, and child on the planet than he could think of nicer ones. He would gladly have preferred some drops of whisky in his coffee but knew that would alarm Misty if she found out. There he stood leaning against the balcony of his patio, sipping his coffee while watching the world go by, when he looked across at his neighbour's home.

There was Kevin Bundlit standing by the front door of his home, looking like the smug tax lawyer that he was, kissing that fine-looking wifey of his (what was her name again? Hailey, I think), saying something to her then leaving her and walking towards his Toyota. Kevin must have noticed someone watching him as he turned to face Fred and waved a hand at him before sliding into his car. Fred had his wave at half mast then feeling stupid, lowered it down and watched his neighbourhood friend reverse out of his driveway then drove off from view. His eyes followed the trail of his car then he returned it to his wife who still stood by the open door ... except this time she wasn't standing there alone.

"No fucking way," Fred muttered to himself, agog, nearly spilling his coffee on his shirt.

There was his neighbour's wife, Hailey by her front doorstep ... and who was that tall, black man standing behind her, snuggling against her hair? Yes, he was black, Fred was sure of it ... and yes, they were snuggling against each other. The picture lasted only a few seconds before Hailey returned into her home with whomever it was Fred had seen. He was still standing there staring at their front door as if willing it to open once again and for the two of them to pop out, at least reveal to himself that he wasn't actually seeing things, when the front door opened and there was Misty, dressed and ready for work, leading her children out of the house. She noticed the surprised look on her husband's face and tapped his arm.

"Honey, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think I have," was all Fred could say as he turned to face her. "I seriously think I have."

She waited, thinking he was going to say something else while her kids were tugging at her handbag, grumbling that they would soon be late for school.

"Oh well ...I'll be back by my usual time. Will see you later." She kissed his cheek then turning to her kids led them towards her grey Subaru. She would drop them at their school before driving to her place of work at the State Municipal building.


Fran stood in her night gown with her house coat over it resting her back against the kitchen counter as she struck a match and introduced the flame to her cigarette. She sucked on her cigarette and flipped the match away while she waited for her kettle to heat up on the stove. She was a tall, angular woman in her early-thirties. Her hair was platinum-blonde and cut in the shape of a pageboy's.

The fury of the sun was heating her backside from the windows, so she left the counter and went to sit at the kitchen table and picked up the newspaper she'd brought into the kitchen with her. She drew an ashtray towards her elbow and crossed one long pair of lovely leg over the other while she opened the newspaper and scanned its headlines insouciantly while sucking on her cigarette. Bored with the headlines, she flipped towards the pages that contained adverts and job searches. Three months ago she had worked as an assistant curator in the city museum, but that due to the city's budgetary cuts, that job was over for her. Her husband, Cleo, didn't seem to be complaining though. He preferred her being at home doing nothing except thinking of getting fat than having her out there earning something. She grew annoyed with him whenever he brought up such patronising type of talk to her, and she knew it was no use arguing the subject with him ...not when he was partly the reason for her wanting to be out of the home often during the day.

There came a whistling sound and she turned in her seat and saw steam smoking out of the kettle's spout. She went and turned it off, then taking out a mug cup from a cabinet, poured some hot water into it to make herself some tea. She was humming to herself while she did this, and it wasn't until she took out the case where they kept the sugar cubes that her humming died in her mouth and what came out instead was: "Oh fuck!"

There wasn't a single cube of sugar in the container.

"Bloody, fucking shit!" she cursed aloud as she continued staring at the empty bowl, thinking maybe several cubes would appear in it. She turned around and inhaled a drag from her cigarette, her mind running riot at what to do.

Then it clicked in her head—her neighbour next door, Hailey, ought to be home. She would definitely have some cubes to share. Fran smoked her cigarette before extinguishing it in the ash-tray, then tied the sash of her house robe before stepping out of her house through the back door and walked to her left towards her neighbour's home.

There was cut out through the narrow bush that divided their homes and as Fran went past it and approached their kitchen back door, her footsteps slowed as she noticed a strange person in the kitchen. Still she went and knocked on the net door. There was a black man seated by the kitchen table flipping through a magazine, and Fran's first thought was that he was taking a sort of break from fixing something in her neighbour's home ... but then she thought how come he sat there with no shirt on except a pair of jeans and the way he sat looked like one who owned the house.

"The door's open, come in," the black man said.

Fran opened the door cautiously and stood there by the doorway, ready to scuttle if by chance the man happened to be an unwanted someone in their neighbourhood.

The black man sat lazily on the chair running his eyes all over her. Fran felt naked under his stare.

"Excuse me, is Hailey around?"

"Oh yeah, she is. Just went inside to grab something, she'll be here soon. Care to sit?" he kicked out one of the kitchen chairs for her.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

"Suit yourself."

Neither of them said anything. Fran's mind was jumping through hoops, asking herself who this black man was and whatever his relationship to Hailey was when seconds later, her neighbour came into the room, startled but happy to see a familiar face.

"Why Fran, hi there." She came forward and embraced her friend. "I thought you said you was going to drop by yesterday?"

"Sorry, I would have but had some cleaning-up in the house to take care of." She indicated with her eyes towards her friend's guest and Hailey immediately got what she meant and pulled her forward.

"Where are my manners, Fran, I'd like you to meet Tibbs, a friend of the family. Tibbs, this here is Fran, a friend living next door."

Tibbs rose to his feet, his height and bulk was impressive and Fran felt really intimidated by her presence. He smiled at her and gave her his hand. "Please to meet you, Fran. Hope I didn't scare you earlier."

Fran shook his hand and said, "No, you didn't. I was only curious."

Tibbs kept his smile on his lips but said nothing. Hailey then stepped into the conversation.

"What's up, Fran? You alone at home as usual?"

"You know how it is, Hailey. Anyway, I was wondering if I can get some sugar cubes from you. I've run out of mine."

"Sure, sure, no problem."

Hailey went digging in one of her cabinet drawers and soon unearthed her box of sugar and wrapped some in cellophane wrap and gave them to her friend. "There you go. Hope those will be enough."

"More than enough, thanks. I'd better be heading back home, I left something on the stove. I'll see you later." She cast a nervous eye at Tibbs before turning to head out the kitchen door.

Hailey waved at her as she crossed over to her compound before coming to join her lover. "Hey there, big boy," she sat across Tibbs' lap and entwined her hands around his neck.

"Hey you," he replied before accepting her kiss. "Who's that fine-ass friend of yours?"

"You mean Fran? She lives right next door to me."

"She seemed kind of shocked seeing me here."

"That's because she hasn't set eyes on you before. She's very warm and nice, you'd like her."

"I think I will. But first, how about us taking care of this fine booty of yours." He caressed her ass under his thigh and she giggled as he stood up from the chair, lifting her up in the air like a bride and carrying her into the house. The sound of Hailey laughing was everywhere.

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