Jamaica Mistaka

"Great, now that you're here," Amy said saucily, her eyes shining brightly. She ran her foot up my ankle as her eyes teased me. We had just been discussing how we both felt about the intimate moment the black stud and my wife had shared. Amy was a bit scared that I would be jealous or angry, but I did my best to assure her that was far from the truth. I liked it. I loved it. I loved watching his firm, black hands slide across her body, touching her where no man but I had touched her in years...

She was happy, I was happy. No harm no foul.

"Is that so?" James said, giving me a funny look, like he expected me to blow up on him. Perhaps he figured Amy would've told me about what had transpired... or maybe he was just waiting for me to give him the green light? After all, isn't that what he had said? As soon as your husband says its okay, I'll eat you whole..

Amy and James made small-talk while these thoughts ran through my mind, clouding my judgment. Blood flowed to my cock as my mind drifted back to that morning, to the way their skin contrasted so erotically, as his hands explored her body. Amy ran her foot up my thighs, pressed her heel into my crotch, and found my cock hard and throbbing. She winked at me, her eyes burning with fire. What a vacation this was turning out to be!

"So, what do you think?" She asked me.

"W-what now?" I stammered. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts I had paid no attention to their conversation.

"James asked us if we wanted to go to a proper Jamaican joint."

"It's real nice, trust me," James interjected. "This place is okay, but it's not the real Jamaica, ya know what I mean? I can show you around."

He had his arm casually draped around my wife's shoulder as he asked me this. I wasn't quite sure what to do. I was eager to find out what James had in store for us, and what a proper Jamaican night entailed... but I was also a little apprehensive. Worried.

Amy pushed her heel into my cock, her eyes pleading me to say yes. I couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes.

"Sure," I said. "Let's do that."

Unknowingly, I had given control of the night, and my wife, to James, and from that point on I'd be a passenger, watching from the backseat as he seduced my wife, one step at a time.

We walked down main street. James had his arm wrapped around my wife's waist, and I followed a few feet behind. I felt a little excluded, but the two were chatting happily, so I sucked it up.

He took us down a few dark alleys we wouldn't have walked down without him before we arrived at a local dance club. The tall, muscled bouncer at the door greeted James with an air of familiarity, and it was quite clear that everyone here knew who he was.

Amy and I, however, stuck out like two sore, very white thumbs. The place was packed to the brim with black bodies, and we were obviously out of our element.

I began to get second thoughts.

"Are you sure about this?" I whispered in Amy's ear, grabbing her arm.

She patted my hand, smiling up at me. "It'll be fine. What can happen?"

I could imagine quite a few things happening with my blonde wife in a dance club full of strong, dark men!

Suddenly, my skin prickled with fire, sweat slicked my palms and slid down my back, my shirt feeling cramped and two sizes too tight. Amy was wearing a sun-dress, with only a thong and a bra underneath. I had suggested it myself, thinking we'd be sipping cocktails by the waterfront all night, but was it proper attire for an all-black dance club?

I feared that every time she twirled around, or bent over, the small garment would ride up and expose her pink cheeks to the club full of horny, ebony men...

"Come on, let's go, slowpoke," Amy said as she dragged me into the club. The bouncer gave me a smug smile, and I feared he knew exactly what James had in store for us. Why else would he take my white wife to such an establishment?

The dancehall-music was blasting so loud you could feel it reverberate inside your chest. It started to dawn on me just how bad of an idea this had been. Amy, however, was smiling broadly, marveling at this place.

"Isn't this so cool? Without James, we'd never go to a place like this!"

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat as I noticed just about every single guy in the place was checking out my naive, clueless wife. I tried to stare them down, but they simply ignored me.

"There's a table over there," James said as he guided us through the crowd. Now that the other men had seen that we were with James, they all turned away, as if they knew wife my wife was his for the night.

I wasn't sure if that thought was comforting or disturbing.

James bought us drinks and we made small-talk, and bit-by-bit I started to feel a little more at ease. The entourage was very intimidating to me, but everyone went back to ignoring us now that we were in a booth.

"What do you think of the music?" James asked.

"It's not my scene, that's for sure," I said.

"I love it!" Amy piped in.

"You do?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah! It's very... sensual."

You could say that again. Out on the dance floor there were a few dark skinned girls shaking their asses to the beat, dropping it all the way to the floor. I couldn't help but stare as their black booties jiggled rhythmically. I just hoped Amy wouldn't get mad — or worse, try to compete!

"It's called twerking," James told me when he saw my surprised expression. "Look it up," he added with a wink.

"You haven't seen nothing, though. Check out this next song!"

Like clockwork, a new song started playing the moment James finished his sentence. This was obviously a crowd favorite, because everyone started cheering and moving to the dance floor.

"Come on, let's dance!" James said as he got up.

"No no no," I insisted. "I'm too white for that shit," I said self-depreciatingly. "You go ahead though."

"Do you mind if I go?" Amy said, completely blindsiding me. She wanted to dance... in this all-black club?

"I, uhm," I stammered. I didn't want to forbid it and act like a jealous and controlling husband, but... it's clear this was not something I was entirely comfortable with. I stammered, hoping that Amy would pick up on my vibe, but James seized his chance.

"I'll have her right back, don't you worry," he said with a wink as he took Amy's hand and led her to the dance floor.

All I could do was shift uncomfortably in my seat, sip on my drink and wait. Great.

The beat dropped, and the crowd started going absolutely mental. I had never seen anything like it in all my years. The women were dancing lewdly, rubbing their hands all over their bodies, caressing and emphasizing all their curves. The men, meanwhile, were rubbing up against them, and some even went as far as to simply thrust their crotches against the women's big, round asses!

Rather than move away, the women returned the favor, dry humping the men, bouncing their booty on their crotches. It was lewd, extremely sexual, and making me very uncomfortable.

I would have enjoyed the show, don't get me wrong, but I had lost Amy in the crowd. She ought to stick out — as white as she was — but the club was so packed I lost all sight of her.

I nursed my drink, my worry growing by the minute, as I awaited Amy's return. The seconds crawled by, and I was drenched in sweat by this point. Where in earth was she?!

The up-beat dancehall song ended, and the DJ switched to a smoother, RnB type sound. The crowd dispersed somewhat, and I finally caught a glimpse of my wife through the crowd. The relief I felt was only momentarily, however, because she was dancing awfully intimate with James.

Amy had her arms wrapped around his neck as her head rested on his broad shoulders. James' hands were placed firmly on her lower back as he slowly moved to the beat, their bodies grinding together rhythmically. He had his back towards me so I couldn't see what they were doing very well, but I couldn't help but notice the other men in the room had her eyes glued to my wife's backside.

What in earth was he doing?! My blood started rushing through my veins once again, my stomach in a tight knot. The jealous part of me wanted to get up, tear her away from him and head on home, but the rational part of me didn't want to create a scene... and the perverted side of me was eager to find out how far Amy would go.

These feelings fought for control as I remained in place, my fingers fidgeting with a coaster as my eyes were glued to their bodies. Finally, James turned her towards me, and what I saw was every bit as lewd as I expected it would be.

James had his strong, black hands resting firmly on my wife's naked, round ass. His hands had moved her dress up, and the globes of her ass were visible to all. His hands roamed up and down her soft, pink flesh, and Amy seemed completely oblivious. She was resting her head on his shoulders, her eyes closed, a blissful smile on her lips.

James saw me looking, and he just winked back at me, giving my wife's butt a playful squeeze. I swore I heard stifled laughter all around me, but I couldn't quite tell over the loud music. What I did see was that all the men in the club were looking at my wife's white butt with hunger in their eyes, some even licking their lips. When I made eye-contact with them, they just grinned menacingly at me.

To say this was humiliating would be an understatement. I had to adjust my cock in my pants, my firm member pressing painfully against my zipper. This was all getting out of hand so fast... yet, I still couldn't bring myself to interfere.

James turned my wife again, now to the side, so I could see both their frames, and if seeing her butt wasn't enough of a shock, I could now see what Amy was smiling about! James had positioned his cock so that it was standing straight up, pressing against his belly — and that big, black cock of his reached all the way up to his naval!

From the side I could clearly see the big, bulbous head of his dick, pressing firmly against my wife's stomach. He was grinding against her, rubbing the purple head of his prick against her, no doubt smearing pre-cum all over her pretty dress...

Luckily the song ended, and my worries were over, or so I thought. In fact, they were still just beginning...

***

"I'm going to fuck your wife, you know," James said matter-of-factly as he sat down across me. Amy was headed to the ladies room, and we were all alone for a minute.

I was stunned. Did I hear him right? The music was so loud, maybe I was just hearing things.

"W-what now?"

"I said, I'm going to fuck your wife."

James looked me dead in the face, waiting for my reaction. I looked away, his gaze burning into me, while my cock strained against the fabric of my jeans. How did he I know I wanted him to? Did Amy tell him... or were we just so obvious? Yeah, sure, we had both fantasized about inviting James into our bedroom, but to actually do it is something else entirely...

"If you want me to," James added.

I looked up, and he was smiling broadly at me. That same disarming, welcoming smile he showed me the day I first met him at the beach.

"Don't look so surprised, mon. You think you're the first white couple looking to get blacked here?"

I shrugged, trying to think of something witty to say, and failing miserably.

"I'm no fool. I've seen the way you two look at me... you want some of this," he said as he grabbed his crotch for emphasis. "I'm more than happy to show your wife a good time, and if you didn't want to see your wife taste some of this dark meat, you would have stepped in hours ago. Nah mon, you want to see your wifey get fucked, I get it. See, when she comes back from the bathroom, you go and leave us alone for a minute, iight?"

It wasn't so much a question as a demand. Before I had chance to respond, Amy was back, looking as hot as ever. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled, and she had a happy, sloppy grin on her face.

"Scoot over," she told me.

Instead, I got up and excused myself, leaving the two alone together.

I splashed some cold water in my face in the men's room. What was I doing? Why was I following James' commands? I wasn't ready to admit it to myself quite yet, but I was eager to find out how far James could take it. He was right, after all. If I didn't want James to fuck her... I would have stopped him sooner. I wouldn't have let him take us to a club, I wouldn't have let him wrap his arm around her, and I surely wouldn't have let him grope my wife's ass on the dancefloor and let him flash her buns to countless men!

However, I wasn't sure how Amy felt about all this. If I didn't interfere, would Amy really let the black stud fuck her? Would she go that far? A part of me wanted her to ask me for permission at the very least, but another part of me, a stronger, hornier part, wanted her to just give in to her wildest passion.

I walked back, trying to appear cool and collected, while my pulse was actually racing. Amy and James were sitting next to each other, huddled close together, whispering. I sat across from them, but they were so into one another they didn't even notice me.

Amy had her eyes closed, a silly smile on her lips, while James whispered into her ear. I coughed to draw their attention, and James smiled at me. He motioned for me to look under the table.

I bent down, and what I saw was unbelievable.

Amy had her legs spread wide, and James was two fingers deep inside her soaking wet cunt. Her thong was pulled to the side, and his index and middle finger were inside of her — all the way to the knuckle. In return, Amy had her hand wrapped firmly around James' thick black cock. His pants were unbuttoned, and his cock was hanging out. I guess that answered my question on how Amy felt!

His black cock was even bigger than it looked out on the dance floor. It was as thick as a can, and as long as my forearm. It was gigantic. Amy could barely wrap her fingers around the damn thing.

I came up from the table as white as a ghost. Amy was smiling drunkenly at me, a wanton smile plastered all over her face. She mouthed 'he's so big' at me, and all I could do was stare back in amazement. James was right. He was going to fuck her tonight. And to my surprise, I wanted him to.

"Go pay the bill," James directed me.

I didn't want to leave the two together, not wanting to miss a single thing, but a quick glare from James got me out of my seat. Unfortunately, the bar was quite crowded, and as a pale white guy, serving me wasn't a top priority for the waiters here. Finally, after ten minutes, I managed to pay the bill. I rushed back to our table as fast as I could — and found our table empty.

Where had they gone?! I looked around, but I couldn't see a thing in the dimly-lit bar. I made a quick tour around the room, but my wife was nowhere to be found. All I saw where knowing smirks as people shook their heads at me.

"Have you seen a blonde, white woman leave?" I asked the tall, built bouncer at the front door. If she had left, he'd know.

"Maybe," he smiled condescendingly at me. "What's it to you?"

"That's my wife," I said, trying to sound firm.

The bouncer laughed in my face, and I felt myself grow smaller by the minute.

"She's in the alley out back... but you might not like what you see," he said ominously.

Feeling sick, I ran towards the alley. I turned the corner and stopped dead in my tracks.

Amy was on her knees, her strawberry-blonde hair illuminated by the moonlight as she bobbed up and down James' thick cock. He had his hands in her hair, guiding her mouth up and down his thick pole. He was resting against the wall, letting my white wife do all the work.

I hurried over, hissing at them.

"Are you crazy?! Anyone could see out here!"

"Relax, man," James said as he smoked a blunt. He blew the marijuana smoke my way, making me cough. "Everyone knows your wife is my slut."

He pumped his hips to emphasize his word, causing Amy to make gagging noises as she slurped on his thick pole, undeterred by my presence. She was hypnotized by his large, black cock.

"They knew from the moment I came in with you two... and when I had her out on the dance floor, fondling that bubble butt for every one to see, they all knew it was a done deal. I could have fucked her on the table and no one would have batted an eye."

"Wait... is that what all those looks were about?" I asked horrified. Did everyone know my wife was about to get blacked?

"Damn straight," James said. "From the moment we walked in, they all knew what was up. You want a hit?"

I turned down the blunt as I stared mesmerized at my wife. She was still slobbering all over his thick pole, her tongue gliding up and down, damn near oblivious to the world.

"L-let's go back to our bungalow," I finally said, finding my voice.

"You sure?" James said, raising his eyebrow. "You know what that means right."

"I do."

"I need to hear you say it."

I swallowed. James was really milking me for all I was worth.

"Please come to our bungalow so you can fuck my wife," I heard myself say.

James smiled, a wide, ear-to-ear smile. "That's more like. Come on baby, let's get some of that black dick inside of you."

He pulled Amy up, and she seemed surprised to see me. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth. She had been so engrossed in sucking that black dick, I'm sure she missed our entire conversation.

"Oh hi baby," she said, slightly slurring her words. She ran her hand through her hair, her cheeks burning a fiery red. "Umm..."

"It's okay," I said as I kissed her right on the lips. The taste of James' cock lingered still, and my own cock surged with blood. "I've seen everything," I informed her.

"You're not mad?" She asked me.

"A little... but also incredibly turned-on," I quickly admitted.

"I'm sorry, the moment I felt his hardness press against me, I just... let him take control, I guess," Amy confided in me.

"It's okay, I understand."

"So what do we do now?"

"We're going back to our place and James is going to fuck you," I said matter-of-factly.

She instantly perked up, a child-like joy beaming off her face. "Are you sure?" She asked me, but I knew she wanted nothing more.

I slid my hand between her legs and found her pussy positively dripping wet. I slid two of my fingers into her with ease.

"Let's get a big black dick all in up that tiny, wet pussy of yours," I grunted into her ear as I fingered her in the middle of the alley. I was taking all my pent-up lust and anger out on her dripping wet pussy as I blasted two of my fingers into her cunt.

She held me for balance, her knees buckling. "Yesss," she hissed, biting down on her bottom lip. "Let's go baby, I'm so ready for this, you have no idea."

Amy's legs were weak and she could barely walk, so she had one arm around me and one arm around James as we walked down the boulevard to our bungalow. James was blazingly fondling her breasts, his hand inside of her dress, kneading her soft flesh.

He didn't care that anyone walking by could see — in fact, he reveled in the attention. He stopped to greet everyone we met, going as far as to 'accidentally' pull down the top of her dress so her naked titties popped right out. He acted like he didn't mean to, but I wasn't born yesterday.

Amy pretended to be so drunk she couldn't help but expose herself, but I strongly suspected she was just acting so she could show off her naked body to total strangers.

Meanwhile, I was so horny I couldn't stand it. Every second we were out on the streets my cock grew harder, the humiliation and anticipation driving me insane. I tried to hurry us back to the bungalow as fast as possible, because I was anxious to start the show.

Finally, we reached our home. James carried her inside and commanded me take a seat next to our bed.