Irene's Blossoming

"So big..." Irene whispered. Despite the uncomfortable position, Irene's warm words forced me to stare at her boyfriend's manhood. From this perspective, it looked even thicker and more impressive, one proud piece of cockmeat. The skin was dark brown, with the exception of the pinkish tone of his huge glans peeking from the inside of his foreskin, and his pubic hair was trimmed short.

"A real man's cock," Irene whispered in my ear. The apparent harshness of her words clashed with the warm and caring tone of her voice. Then, her lips brushed my ear and she added, "But I still love you." Irene was still my wife, both on paper and in her heart. A wave of excitement and happiness lifted my spirit. Soon, that big black cock would be inside of my wife but I would still know that she hadn't forgotten our love.

My heart beat fast. I was drunk from so much happiness and arousal, and from so much pain and jealousy. Irene licked her lips and I wished her to handle her boyfriend's cock as soon as possible. The situation was overwhelming, much more intense than I had anticipated in my wildest fantasies. However, my wife wasn't content and she wished to feed the insanity even more.

With clear shock, I heard Irene whispering to me, "Touch it." I knew perfectly well what she meant with those two words, but I chose to disregard it as a vain challenge from a teaser. However, Irene didn't stop there. "Touch it, please," she insisted. How could she be asking me to do this?

My wife had to know that I would never do such a thing of my own volition. She had to know I didn't want to touch his cock. Anyway, Irene gently took my hand with the clear purpose to lead it to her intended destination.

"Feel it, like I felt it once... The touch of a real man's cock for the first time," she whispered though. I could have stopped her... However, at that moment, confused by the sensual voice of that gorgeous woman, I truthfully desired to know how it felt like to touch that giant piece of cockmeat. I wanted to know what Irene had felt that evening in the parking lot, when she touched her lover's manhood for the first time.

So, I let my hand be guided to the soft dark skin. My fingers enveloped his shaft and I instantly felt it getting stiffer. Then, Irene's palm covered mine and instructed my hand to move. "Pump my boyfriend's cock stiff and hard for me," my wife encouraged softly. As the foreskin of that uncut cock was being pulled, slowly, his giant and shining glans became exposed. Then, Irene released my hand and I continued the intended motion on my own. She reached for his huge ball sac, too big and full for her small hand to envelop, and caressed her lover.

My hand had a will of its own, but the rest of my body was tense. The last thing I desired was to face Irene or the man whose cock I was stimulating. He had already taken so much from me in the past. At that moment, my submission was empowering him even more, enhancing his masculinity before Irene's eyes. Through my action, I was admitting my inferiority to my wife's boyfriend. He was the man there. Only he was good enough to please a woman like Irene.

18.

My head was down but my eyes were set on the big tool I was holding. Under those circumstances it seemed like the only place fit for me to look. With each stroke of my hand, the hard-on became greater and greater, forcing the member to become proudly erect. I couldn't help admiring and envying that powerful piece of black meat.

"I'm so horny... I can't wait to take that big cock deep inside of me," Irene softly said to me.

Finally, I overcame my embarrassment and looked at my wife. Irene smiled at me and I felt her love and excitement. Somehow, that moment seemed only ours, as if we were the only people present in the room. All of a sudden, just by looking at my wife's beautiful and tender face, holding another man's cock didn't seem so dramatic.

After a few seconds, Irene's smile opened wider and it seemed to carry some encrypted message. My wife left the bed. When she knelt on the floor before her black lover, I felt a strong arousing discharge in my body. I desperately anticipated the moment Irene would take over the action and become the star of the show. However, I can't deny that, after what had happened before, I feared my wife's plans. When Irene asked me to join her and kneel on the floor, I knew that my fears were justified.

Still, despite my concealed distress, I did as my wife asked of me. Once again, I was submitting to Irene's hung lover when I knelt before his erection.

"I want to see you touch him... with your lips," Irene whispered. I looked at her in shock. My eyes were saying no but Irene insisted, "I promise... it feels great."

I didn't want to feel great. I didn't want to do it. All I wanted was to be with my wife again. For a moment, I felt a rebellion taking form inside of me. Wasn't it enough that he could take my wife whenever he wished? Hadn't it been enough to see my wife pregnant with his child? He already had so much. How could Irene love me and use me like this?

"No," I murmured in a desperate tone. My eyes were begging her to drop the outrageous idea.

"It's too late to be ashamed," Irene teased me. I realized that I shouldn't have gone so far to please my wife. Irene approached her mouth to my ear and softly said, "You already pumped him hard... This will be our secret." As if her words weren't enough, her hand held my penis and she slowly began to stroke it. "Do it for me. I want to watch... Suck his hard cock for me," she insisted in the same tone. "You will love the feeling... like I do."

I was desperately looking for a way out of that situation. The sound of her voice on my ear was both enchanting and torturous. I had to make a stand, didn't I? But what if I stopped fighting? What if I just gave up? All I had to do was stop worrying and take comfort that I was only doing as my wife desired.

I looked at Irene one more time. This time, I was begging her for help to overcome the last barrier of reluctance, so that all the pain could stop. Instead, Irene caressed the hair in the back of my head and gently encouraged me to take that fateful, unfathomable action; there, on my knees, she urged me towards her lover's erect cock.

"Lick your lips," my wife instructed. "Feel how smooth he feels."

My right hand secured the black cock and I licked my lips. A strong manly scent invaded my nostrils when I purposely avoided his glans and touched the hard shaft with my mouth. Just like Irene had said, the skin was soft, almost silky. I had never realized before how smooth a hard cock could be.

"Feel his big head..." Irene encouraged.

I obeyed my wife and turned my attention to the huge glans. It was impressive how sensitive such a powerful and muscled tool could feel against my own lips. Moved by some curiosity, I dared to touch the silky head with the tip of my tongue. Irene reacted with visible pleasure, "That's it... Don't think, just let yourself go..."

I could feel the weight of Irene's eyes upon me and the approval in her words and excited breath. After the initial impact, the manly scent didn't feel as strong and strange anymore and, somehow, it was adding an arousing new dimension to the situation.

Irene put in words what I didn't dare to think, "It tastes like man..."

My tongue left my mouth, increasing the contact with his cockhead and I timidly explored the sensitive area. Now that my resistance had been conquered, my wife's requests seemed oddly easy to accomplish.

"Go on... Open your mouth," Irene continued.

As commanded, I opened my mouth and let the huge glans slid inside slowly. The black man released a pleased moan. This unexpected sound broke my spell, and I remembered that my actions were being done to a man.

Irene also reacted to the moment and she softly teased me, "How does it feel to have your mouth full?"

The huge cock slid backwards and I hesitated to proceed. I couldn't believe I had a black cock in my mouth. I couldn't believe I was willingly giving head to another man. How did my wife lead me to this?

"It's overwhelming, isn't it?" Irene continued in the same tone, as her hand in my crotch regained life and stimulated me. "You know what you have to do. Please him... make my black stud feel good. Do it with pride."

I shockingly realized that I wanted to proceed. I wanted to keep sucking on that big black piece of cockmeat. But I wanted to do it for my wife and not for another man's pleasure. I desperately desired there could be a way of doing it without his presence...

"I'm so horny," Irene whispered, "Suck Dwayne's big cock."

I never imagined myself giving a blowjob... But the damage had already been done and Irene's presence and evident excitement was enough to conquer all my doubts and distress. So I embraced my destiny as a cocksucker. I took Dwayne's manhood inside of me and I used my hand and all my mouth to worship it. My lips, my tongue, the inside of my mouth and my saliva all became tools in the service of that big black cock for a while.

Irene's warm whispers kept encouraging me to continue. The gentle stroking of her hand in my crotch felt great and kept reassuring me of her intents. But this enjoyment also carried a good volume of guilt. It felt wrong to feel good when I was pleasuring another man.

Suddenly, I felt a salty fluid unexpectedly coming from the big cock into my mouth. The limited portion of pre-cum first touched my tongue, but then its taste spread to every corner, until all my mouth was tainted by this manly fluid.

At this point, Irene stopped me. I don't know if she had read it in my expression, but when her lips touched mine I realized that she already knew how I would taste. Then, my wife's tongue invaded my mouth and she kissed me with eagerness. When contact was finally broken, Irene whispered in my ear, "I'll never forget this moment. From now on, whenever I kiss you, I'll always remember Dwayne's cock."

How could she say such things to me? Irene's words were outrageous but also a powerful aphrodisiac. After overcoming the initial shock, I just smiled. I smiled at my wife, because her words had betrayed that she intended to kiss me many more times in the future.

"Now, finish off your man," my wife commanded.

Despite her provoking words, I focused my attention back on the big cock and resumed the blowjob. This time, Irene's hand joined mine and she increased the stimulating pace on the black cock.

"You're so good at it," she said, an embarrassing encouragement. "Look at your lover's face."

Irene wanted me to look upwards at the black man. A new wave of reluctance prevented me from doing as she wished. Despite what I had already done that night, this seemed to take these outrageous acts one step further than I could voluntarily proceed.

"Look at his eyes while you have his cock in your mouth," Irene insisted. Despite my reluctance, I once again succumbed to my wife's wishes. With his black cock buried in my mouth, I awkwardly looked upwards and rediscovered the face of the man I was giving head to. "You're his now," Irene added.

By looking at him, I was acknowledging his presence. His name sounded inside of my mind: Dwayne

When my eyes met his, I saw in him an undisputed superiority. In that moment, I didn't felt like a man. In his mind, my wife and I were two promiscuous white sluts who couldn't get enough of black cock. And in that moment I had to agree with his conclusion. I realized that this was how I would feel in the future, if I ever met him again.

"Oh yeah... that feels good..." the black man said as he focused his stare on my wife.

I closed my eyes and my attention went back exclusively to the huge member. Just like Irene had asked of me earlier, I felt myself proud, a guilty pride, for being able to handle such an amazing cock; a remarkable specimen, worthy of my submission.

"I don't have to see Dwayne alone anymore. Now, we can both pleasure him... together... as a couple," Irene said, this time out loud, maybe sensing my ultimate surrender.

Dwayne moaned again and I knew he was almost cumming. His hand secured my head in place, assuring his cock wouldn't slip out of my mouth at the moment of his release. I guess I could have freed myself, but I hesitated.

Irene encouraged me, "Let him cum in your mouth."

Again I felt myself wronged. It wasn't fair. I had never lived the experience of having my wife taking my cum in her mouth, yet she desired me to do it for her black lover.

Anyway, my hand's pace increased and I waited with my eyes closed.

"Oh fuck..." the manly voice said along with an intense moan.

A powerful shot of sperm hit the back of my throat, forcing me to open my eyes wide. I couldn't believe a man was ejaculating in my mouth. How could I ever live with it?

"Swallow," Irene whispered in my ear, long before he had finished.

Shot after shot, his massive balls filled me with their thick semen. When I felt it was over, I released the powerful member and swallowed the sperm as my wife suggested. While sliding off my mouth, his huge glans brushed in my lips and chin, leaving one last trace of his sperm. Irene didn't seem to hesitate. She leaned over me and licked the remnants of his semen from my face. At the same time, the speed of her hand in my crotch increased insanely, driving me to orgasm in a matter of seconds. Her boyfriend was already in the bed, enjoying the lasting effects of his climax, when my cum fell wasted on the floor where he had been standing. On the other hand, the black man's fluids were in my mouth, in my throat, in my stomach and soon would reach my blood and spread all over my body, changing me and becoming part of me.

"It's my turn," my wife said.

19.

All my excitement emptied me after the orgasm. My wife had aroused me to do the unthinkable and only now I felt capable of understanding the obvious consequences. How could she ever love and respect her husband, after witnessing me sucking another man's cock and swallowing his seed? I was only a sex toy, a means to an end. When Irene climbed on top of her black lover, she didn't seem to know that I existed anymore.

I grabbed my pants and underwear. Maybe it was best for me to leave. My presence there seemed pointless. Embarrassed, I couldn't even look at them. While I was composing myself, I imagined myself leaving that room, that apartment, without them even noticing my absence. I imagined myself having to face the people outside, too ashamed and afraid that someone could read in my sore jaw or in my sperm-breath the signs of my humiliation. It would be my personal walk of shame. Then I imagined myself sleeping in my bed, alone, once again.

Fortunately, Irene had other plans for me. When my wife noticed me getting dressed, she asked, "What are you doing?" I didn't answer. Instead, I approached her and she invited me to be in the bed next to her, "Come here."

My wife's bra and panties were gone. She was naked on top of her lover. There was an evident contrast between their bodies: his blackness against her light skin; his huge hands grabbing her small waist; her fragile body yielding to his prominent muscles. The black man's cock was hard again. Not even the lewd movements of my wife's pussy rubbing on her boyfriend's shaft seemed capable of waking my small, flaccid cock from its embarrassing slumber.

When Irene guided the hard cock to her entrance and he pushed it in, I saw the same overwhelmed expression in her face I had witnessed on the day I had spied on them from behind a door. The big black cock quickly disappeared inside my wife, with amazing ease. The black man rose to his feet, lifting my wife by her thighs in the process, without exiting her pussy, and pinned her against the nearest naked wall. Irene's body shook due to the cold surface against her back. Then, he fucked her there. The movements of his waist advertised that he was slowly driving his cock deep. At the same time, there was a peace of mind in Irene's countenance. Her stare was set on me. Dwayne's cock was buried inside of her, but I felt her eyes making love with me.

These hypnotic movements seemed to last forever. Dwayne was patient and tireless. Irene's weight was insignificant to his strong arms.

When they were both ready, my wife's lover took her back to the bed. I watched him tease her and, without shame, Irene begged for his black cock. Then, he fucked her hard, and she accepted his raw enthusiasm with delight.

The black man was using my wife's body and she was enjoying being used. The more he manhandled her, the more Irene liked the treatment. My earlier guilt and dismay vanished. I was mesmerized by the lewd excitement of my wife as she was being taken by her black stud. I felt good for her. I felt proud of her. This was the woman I had always desired Irene to become.

My wife came once. The black man diminished the intensity of his thrusts, but he didn't stop. He just kept fucking her, since her body was entirely at his disposal. New signs of pleasure began to show in Irene's countenance and, after a long while of wild pleasure, she came a second time.

As her pleasure continued, he put my wife on all fours. Irene obeyed to him gladly. But, while I was expecting him to keep pounding her, she now took control. Irene's body began to sway, forward and backwards, along the big black pole. He didn't have to do anything; it was as if she were fucking him. My wife still had the strength to guide her lover to ecstasy on her own. These soft and bewitching movements were enough to lead any man to madness. I admired her stamina. I worshipped her boldness.

Dwayne didn't even bother to take his cock out of my wife. He just shot his load inside of her, as I am sure he was used to doing. Then, he collapsed on top of my Irene and she gently embraced him. After such a display of sensuality, I envied that man. I wished I could be the one who was in her arms.

20.

After my wife and her lover were done, I feared for a moment of awkwardness. Much to my surprise, Dwayne got dressed and left. Just like that. Still, before his departure, Irene affectionately kissed him goodbye. Once again, I realized that he would never leave my wife's life.

After he was gone, Irene came back to me and we cuddled in the bed. The memories of my earlier deeds came back to haunt me but she seemed calm and peaceful. We stayed like this for a while, until my wife decided to break the silence.

First, Irene giggled and then she said, "I can't believe you sucked Dwayne's cock."

My wife seemed like one of those kids who dares us to do something stupid and, when we do it, then mocks us. I wished there could be a nearby hole into which I could crawl. My wife would never forget what I had done that night.

Irene still seemed calm, free from any drama. So I dared to ask, "Why?" I hoped she could understand what I meant, without forcing me to put into words what had happened before.

"I guess it began the day I first saw Dwayne's cock," Irene began. "I wished you were there with me... somehow. It grew. Somewhere along the path I started to imagine us sharing his big cock. This fantasy turned me on..."

I wasn't convinced.

"Why would any woman fantasize about her husband...?" I hesitated for a moment. Then I continued, "It doesn't make any sense."

"Why would any man fantasize about his wife having sex with another man?" Irene replied.

I opened my mouth to argue back, but then I realized what she meant.

"Why didn't you say anything before? Why didn't you ask me?" I insisted.

Again, Irene replied with an answer, "Would you have accepted it if I had asked you in advance?"

"You manipulated me..."

"Yes," Irene answered and, at the same time, she caressed my face. Then she caringly added, "Just like you manipulated me before."