Tammy Ch. 02

Some comments on my past stories suggest that there should have been some warning about the theme. This is an erotic story involving interracial play and married women straying from their husband. If the idea of a black man fucking a married white woman bothers you, you should move on to another story.

As an Introduction, I'm Devon, a 32 year-old black man now living in Chicago, the city where I was born and raised. I work for a mid-sized investment bank and travel a fair amount. I'm 6' 4" and a good athlete, all city in high school basketball and all state in football. I received a scholarship to play college football on the west coast, where I was an all conference tight end freshman year, but a severe off the field injury curtailed my career. So I hit the books got a degree in economics, and then an MBA, and I now have a pretty good life.

My weakness, or at least my kink, is married women. Specifically, white married women. No use psychoanalyzing the motives, but there are aspects, which I will over time describe, that just make married white women much more of a sexual turn on than more "normal" relationships. My other kink is I'm a dominant man -- not that I enjoy inflicting pain or wearing weird attire, but I know what I enjoy and clearly communicate my desires and expectations. Typically, my playmates are older than me, but not always. Sometimes I meet them on line (which I prefer) before we meet in person, but sometimes the original meeting is in person. Most of these experiences have been during the past five years, although there are some exceptions. I'm not telling these experiences in chronological order -- just the order of what's in my head when I'm writing.

To get more background on Tammy, you can read the Tammy -- Chapter 1 story.

About an hour after Tammy left, she texted me.

She said, "I got home alright."

"Thank you for coming, and cumming."

"I really enjoyed the night."

"I did too. I'll be traveling next week, but I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

The upcoming weekend was typical for me. I play in a basketball league every Saturday morning, I worked out a bit after, and spent a lot of time with my parents and four siblings (I'm the second oldest). I texted with Tammy a bit, and we started to make plans for our next meeting, which we decided would be a week from the next Monday.

She asked, "Is everything still good about our last meeting?"

"It was great. In fact, better than great."

I could tell she needed reassurance. She pressed the issue,

She said, "I felt so out of practice. It's been almost 20 years since I've been with a man other than my husband. Part of the reason I was hesitant was because I was worried you'd be disappointed."

"Did I seem disappointed?"

"No. Not at all."

"So there's your answer. You were perfect. But of course, every relationship can get better over time. We'll both learn more."

"How can I get better?"

"Not sure that's possible."

"There has to be something."

"I seldom watch porn, but you could watch a few scenes and get some ideas."

"Do you have any specific recommendations."

"Like I said, I don't watch a lot of stuff, but you can search for scenes with 'BBC' combined with words such as 'MILF,' 'married,' and 'cuckold.'"

"What does cuckold mean? I've never heard that term before."

I explained. I liked her naivete. In between chatting, I did check out her on line profile. There were a lot of photos, but she was always conservatively dressed. In some photos you could tell she had a sexy curvy body, but she typically wore loose clothing and never showed much cleavage.

On Sunday night I left on my work trip to the west coast -- Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco. I typically only travel for three days at a time, but I had some key meetings and would be gone until Friday. On Monday Tammy and I texted a lot. I suggested she call -- texting took a long time. She said she would go to the store and call me in a few minutes.

She asked about my weekend. When I told her about my regular basketball game, she seemed interested.

She asked, "Are you good?"

"I think so. I'm still in good shape."

"That I know."

"I was all city in high school. I got some scholarship offers for college, but I was better in football."

"My husband played high school basketball in the suburbs. He has several awards and trophies."

"That's good."

Meanwhile, I was thinking "lame ass suburban basketball." I changed the subject.

I asked, "How's your research going?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your porn research."

She laughed. "Oh, that. I've found it ... enlightening."

"Tell me your thoughts."

"I'm surprised how much focus there is on married women and black men."

"It mirrors real life."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Many married women have an attraction to black men. I know you think I'm aggressive, but you'd be surprised by how up front some women can be."

"When they're away from their husbands, of course."

"Not always. Some are encouraged by their husbands."

"Have you had many experiences?"

"I've met a few women who were in some type of open marriage."

"Has the husband ever been present?"

"A couple of times. Just watching, not participating. I'm not bi"

"I didn't think so."

"It can be a powerful experience for all three people."

"I'm sure my husband would never be up for that."

"It's not for everyone. Speaking of husbands, won't yours' be wondering where you are?"

"You're right. I better get back. I lose track of time talking to you."

The next few days were really busy -- either business dinners or evening flights, and with the time difference we didn't have time to chat. I flew home on Friday, and began my typical weekend routine. While I was visiting my parents on Saturday, I got a message from Tammy asking if I could talk. I stepped out to take her call.

She said, "I'm getting cold feet about Monday."

"I can arrange for a footwarmer."

"I'm serious. My husband keeps asking me if there's anything wrong. I realize that even though I didn't see you all week, I'm constantly thinking about you, and I'm not focused on my day-to-day life. I enjoyed our evening together, but thoughts of you are causing too much distraction."

"Maybe you should do less thinking, and just be doing. You should just do what you want."

"I'm not wired that way."

"Hey Tammy, I'd like to talk more, but I have a lot of family things going on."

We exchanged a few texts throughout the weekend, but I figured either things would happen or they wouldn't, and it didn't do much good to keep talking about it.

On Monday morning, I texted her to see if we were still on for the night. She called me.

She said "I thought I was clear. I can't see you."

"Not even to say goodbye?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"We could still see each other but not be physical."

"That was what was supposed to happen the first time."

"I didn't force you. The reason we had amazing sex was because we both wanted it to happen. If you don't want to this time, it won't happen."

She was quiet.

I asked. "Do you regret meeting me?"

She was silent for a while, and then said, "No, it was amazing, but it shouldn't happen again."

"I agree -- if you don't want it to happen, it shouldn't. But we should still see each other one last time, just to make a clear closure. After all, I still owe you a glass of wine."

"You'll probably insist that wear the witch costume again."

"You can wear whatever you want. Even a burka."

She laughed, and then there was silence.

I said "Well? What do you think?"

"I'm really not sure about this."

"Good. I'm sure enough for both of us. I'll look for you at 7:00."

A long pause, and then she said, "Why not?"

I did my typical after work routine -- workout, shower, light dinner. I called down to the doorman and told him I was expecting a guest. Just after 7:00 I heard knocking at my door, and there she was, wearing a coat. I asked if I could take it and she said sure. No, she wasn't wearing the witch outfit, but she was wearing a dress, relatively tight, and unbuttoned down the front so she was showing some cleavage. It was definitely sexier than anything on her social media page. I realized this woman knew what she wanted, which was me telling her what do to. I poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. I then stepped back and slowly looked up and down her body. Her eyes followed my eyes.

I said, "Damn, you look even sexier than in the witch outfit."

I was lying, but she did look hot. She blushed.

She said, "I didn't intend on looking sexy -- just nice."

I looked her slowly up and down again.

I said " You're lying, We both know exactly why you're dressed the way you are."

"There you go again. I should probably leave."

I took her glass from her, and put it on the counter.

I said, "You can leave if you want, but we both know you don't want to."

"How do you know that?"

"If you really wanted to leave, you would just leave, instead of talking about leaving."

I then put my arms on her shoulders and pulled her towards me, and kissed her. At first she didn't respond, but after a few seconds, she started to return my kiss. After a minute I broke off the kiss and turned her around, started kissing the back of her neck, and let one hand reach down her dress and start to fondle her breast. She moaned. With my other hand I grabbed her hair somewhat loosely and moved my mouth to her ear.

In a whisper, I asked "You didn't really come here with the intent of breaking things off with me, did you?"

As I caressed her nipple, she moaned louder, but said, "Yes, that is why I came here."

I then pinched her nipple sharply and pulled her hair tightly, making her gasp.

I said, "Don't lie to me. I'll ask you again -- you didn't come here to break things off. Right?"

"No."

I pulled her hair even tighter, making her head tilt back.

"You came here to fuck me. Right?"

She didn't say anything, but moaned a bit more. I pulled even tighter.

"Right?"

She whimpered, "Uh huh."

"Tell me why you came here Tammy."

"To fuck you Devon."

I then released her hair and nipple and turned her around, and kissed her hard, she returned the kiss. We continued a passionate kiss for a couple of minutes. Then I broke it off, pulled her hair back, and looked her in her eyes.

"You also came her to suck my dick. Right?"

She mouthed the word yes. I pulled her hair tighter.

"Tell me why you came here?"

"To suck your dick."

"Good girl."

I pulled her down to her knees.

"It's time for you to stop talking about it, and start sucking it. Undo my pants and pull my dick out."

She did as she was told and started stroking me.

"Open your mouth wide."

She did, and then I guided her mouth around my dick. When I was a few inches deep, I relaxed my grip on her hair and let her suck me at her own pace. I loved the slurping sounds she made. Then after a while, I put both of my hands on her head.

"It's time to learn how to better treat a black dick."

I forced my dick deeper in her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, and fucked her mouth for a few seconds. She started gagging a little. I pulled out and she gasped for air.

I said, "There's nothing wrong with a little gagging."

I then pulled her mouth back on my dick and began to fuck her mouth a little faster.

"This is the last time you will ever lie to me about your intentions. From now on you are to freely admit that you enjoy sucking my dick. Do you understand?"

I then pulled out of her mouth and let her get some air.

I asked, "Do you understand?"

"Yes I do."

"Look me in the eye, and tell me what you love to do."

"I love to suck your dick."

I then pulled her head back on to my dick and fucked her mouth even more. This time she loosened her throat a bit and gagged a little less.

"You're becoming a good dicksucker."

I then lifted her up, and kissed her deeply. Her lips were very wet with saliva generated from having a dick in her throat. I broke off the kiss and walked her over in front of a mirror in my living room. I then stood behind her and kissed the back of her neck. I unhooked her bra from the back. I then thought of something and told her to wait there for a bit. I walked into my kitchen, came back with a small knife, walked back behind her and cut the straps of her bra so I could remove it. I then looked at her in the mirror, with her hard nipples showing through her dress. I then unbuttoned two more buttons on her dress so almost all of her breasts were showing.

"You did a good job of dressing for me, but in the future, this is a more appropriate look for you. A sexy woman like you should show off her body for her man."

She nodded acceptance. I then reached underneath her dress and removed her panties. She stepped out of them. I kissed the back of her neck, rubbed her nipples with one hand, and started to finger fuck her with the other. She closed her eyes.

"Keep your eyes open. Look at the contrast of our skin. Remember, always look me in the eyes."

She did as she was told, and her eyes became focused and moist. I found her clit and put pressure on it -- she was wet and getting wetter. In a few minutes her eyes narrowed and she began to cum for me. After she did for a while, I removed my hand from her pussy.

"Lick your juices off my fingers."

She did eagerly. I then walked her to the couch and had her kneel down on one end of it facing the mirror. I got to the side of the couch, behind her. I hiked up her dress -- it was now exposing her breasts on the top and her ass on the bottom. I grabbed her hips and started sliding my dick into her pussy. It was tight but accommodated my dick well. Just like last time she started cumming before I was even halfway in. She had more freedom to gyrate her hips, and I loved feeling her move as she came. The orgasm started to wane.

I asked, "Have you learned your lessons well tonight?

She said, casually, "Yes."

I grabbed a fistful of hair pulled her head back.

"Are you sure?"

She said, more urgently, "Yes I am."

I then slapped her hard on her ass. She yelped.

"Are you really sure?"

"I promise, I'm sure."

I continued to pull her hair back with one hand, and grabbed her jaw with the other, and started to drive my dick in and out of her pussy, while watching this in the mirror. She started to cum much harder than the other times, and was moaning in pleasure.

"You owns your pussy?"

She didn't say anything -- just moaned loudly. So I slapped her hard on the ass again.

"Who owns your pussy?"

"You do."

I fucked her even harder, with almost all of my dick disappearing in her pussy.

"Who owns your mouth?"

"You do."

"Who owns your throat?"

"You do, Devon."

She was cumming harder and I thought I'm going to have to get my sofa cleaned. She was gushing. She was moaning louder. I could tell she was near her limit, so I backed down. She seemed to pass out on the sofa. I held her there for a couple of minutes, and then eased my still hard dick out of her.

She said, slowly, "That ... was ... amazing."

"It's time to show that you learned her lessons. Get on your knees."

She did as she was told. No sense of hesitation.

"Wrap your sexy lips around my dick."

She did. I let her blow me for a while at her own pace, which was good. Slurping. Lots of spit on my dick. I told her to stop.

"You need to learn at times to lick my balls."

She did gently at first, but she started enjoying and trying to wrap her lips around them.

"Every time you give me a blowjob, you need to spend some time licking my nuts. For now that's enough. Take me into your mouth"

She did, and started sucking me again.

"Put both your hands on my ass and push me deeper into your mouth."

She did.

"Who owns your throat?"

She looked me in the eye and said, as best as she could with a dick deep in her mouth, that I did.

I then put my hands and the back of her head.

"It's time to get deeply facefucked. Your hands are not to leave my ass."

I drove my dick deeper into her throat -- she wasn't ready to take all of it, but she learned to gag less. I would give her a break every couple of minutes, but returned to facefucking her. Finally, I was ready to nut in her mouth. I'm sure she could feel my grip tighten, and I exploded my cum down her throat. She gagged a bit, and coughed up some cum, but that made it sexier. I held her there for a while, and then looked down at her. This proper married woman had her breasts and ass showing out of her dress, had her cum dripping down her legs, and my cum dripping down her cheeks. I was tempted to take a photo.

I sat her down on the sofa and sat next to her. I put my arm around her, fondling her breast, and she nuzzled into my neck.

I asked, "Do you wanted to spend some time worshiping my dick?"

She moved her head down and gently caressed my dick with her mouth and tongue.

I said, "It's a shame you have to leave tonight, but I understand."

She kept caressing and kissing my dick for a while, and then said she had to get dressed. She still looked beautiful dressed, her nipples still protruding under her dress.

"Keep your coat on when you get home. Your husband might wonder what happened to your bra."

She laughed.

"Always remember the lessons from tonight."

I promise I will."

It was time for her to go. She would never again be wishy washy with me. She knew her role.

To be continued.