The Black Cowboy

Stacy and I had talked about going for years. She was a country music fan and we lived relatively close to Nashville but we'd never been there to visit. We'd gone other places to celebrate our anniversary in March. We'd been to New Orleans twice. We'd been to Charleston, Savanah and even Dallas/Fort Worth but we'd worried about the hit or miss weather in Tennessee in March.

I finished backing our 26 foot camper trailer into the site and then used blocks to level it side to side. I unhooked it from my Ford F150, leveled it front to back and then started to set up camp while my beautiful wife organized inside the trailer. We had our routine and it worked well for us. Once I had the electric and water hooked up Stacy put out the slides, made the bed and put away any food or supplies we'd brought from home. While she was doing that I hooked up the black and grey water tanks and put our outdoor rug, camp chairs and our Blackstone griddle where they belonged around the fire pit. We usually traveled with our two dogs Ollie and Sadie but knowing we'd be gone sightseeing all day and drinking all night we had left them both with our daughter back home in Kentucky.

Once we were set up both inside and out Stacy and I changed into some nicer clothes and freshened up before she summoned an Uber to take us to Downtown Nashville. My wife was the planner and she had our first night mapped out. We had a nice steak dinner at a good local steakhouse before we hit the bars to listen to some live music and drink.

We were at the second bar of our impromptu pub crawl when I saw him standing with a small group of similarly dressed men. It was large relatively crowded venue with an abundance of tongue and groove yellow pine on the walls and high top tables surrounding a horseshoe shaped bar on the right. A four piece country band was playing on a decent sized stage at the back of the room with a spacious dance floor in front of it. Several more high top tables flanked the dance floor on both sides and he was on the right near the stage with a hallway to the restrooms behind him.

He was a tall, powerfully built black man in faded jeans, a tight black tee shirt, cowboy boots and a black cowboy hat. He was standing beside a table with a group of guys drinking a draft beer and listening to a pretty good country band. I saw him give my wife the once over and I grinned.

Stacy was a good looking woman with a curvaceous body and warm bedroom eyes. She was a conservative and reserved woman by nature but she had recently lost a good amount of weight and she was dressed sexier than usual in a short and low cut dress that hugged her feminine curves, a pair of cowboy boots and a cowboy hat, both of which she had picked up when we had visited friends in Texas the previous year. I was dressed more casually in my favorite Grunt Style tee shirt, dark blue jeans, a trucker hat and a pair of gray Hey Dudes shoes.

The black cowboy's eyes met mine and he nodded at me. Then he smiled and brazenly checked out my wife again. His confidence and devil may care attitude made me shiver for a moment though I wasn't sure why. Stacy and I were a pretty traditional couple. We certainly weren't swingers but we weren't exactly vanilla either. We had some kinks and fetishes. We dabbled in bondage and dominance. We occasionally watched porn together but we were monogamous and while we had, on occasion, used toys to role-play and simulate a threesome she was pretty resolute that she could never do anything like that in real life. Stacy had been raised in a catholic home. She'd gone to an all girls catholic high school and she took her wedding vows seriously but she was far from a prude or a complete square.

"That guy over there was checking you out," I teased as we waited for our beers at the bar.

"Which one," Stacy giggled playfully. She flipped her long auburn hair behind her left ear and her pretty golden brown eyes followed my sight line to the black cowboy.

"He was," I said with a subtle flutter in my voice. Her self confidence had returned after her recent weight loss and there was something in the tone of her voice that excited me, though I couldn't pinpoint it.

"Ooh, he's cute. He reminds me of a more muscular Darius Rucker," my wife said as she looked him up and down while I watched. I was not usually a jealous person largely because she hadn't give me a reason to be. She had been a bit of a flirt when we were young but we'd been married for 25 years that month and together for almost 30. We had met during high school and we'd started dating halfway through our senior year. We'd remained faithful throughout college and married soon after graduation. When we were college she would occasionally flirt with guys to try to get a rise out of me but it never worked and once we were married that had ended. She was a loving and faithful wife and while our marriage was far from perfect I loved her and she loved me.

The black cowboy looked over at Stacy and they both smiled. It was rather surreal. I could immediately see the mutual attraction between them. Stacy bit lightly on her bottom lip as he unabashedly undressed her with his dark glimmering eyes. It only lasted a few moments before she realized what she was doing and looked away almost demurely.

"That was interesting," I joked as I reached out and touched Stacy's arm. Her cheeks were flushed and she seemed more than a little flustered. It was a side of my wife that I had never seen before and it was rather exciting to witness.

"Sorry," Stacy replied meekly. She still seemed a bit out of sorts and I was feeling uncharacteristically insecure. I reached for her hand and looked at her with love in my eyes as I gave it a squeeze.

"I love you," I said softly as I held her gaze. We'd had our ups and down but unlike most of our friends we had stood the test of time. We'd raised two children through adulthood and we were just beginning the empty nest phase of our life. We'd been in a bit of a rut sexually of late but my love for her and our friendship was unwavering.

"I love you too Baby. Sorry about that. That was a little weird and very rude."

"It was kinda weird but it was kind of hot," I mused. "I have never seen you like that."

Stacy smiled and we made our way to an empty high top table closer to the stage and sat down to enjoy the music. I deliberately sat with my back mostly towards the black cowboy which forced Stacy to look towards him if she looked at the stage and for the next hour we sat there drinking and listening to the music but I was also watching Stacy. I could tell when she was looking at him by the way she grinned and I was getting a perverse thrill knowing that they were still making eye contact and flirting from opposite ends of the stage. I'd had a few fantasies over the years that involved sharing my wife with another man or woman but I'd had no delusions that she'd ever do anything like that because of her upbringing. She hadn't been to church in years except on Christmas and Easter but she was still a spiritual person.

After an hour I told Stacy that I was going to the bathroom and to get us another round of drinks since it was clear the wait staff was overwhelmed. I had to walk past the black cowboy's table but he wasn't there and I figured he had moved on. I returned to my table several minutes later with two beers and an empty bladder but Stacy was no longer alone. The black cowboy was standing beside her chatting her up as if she was a single woman in town to pick up a man. He seemed unfazed as I approached and I was surprised to see two empty shot glasses on the table in front of them.

"Oh, hey Baby," Stacy said with a warm smile as her eyes met mine. "This is Shawn from Texas. He's in town for a show. He brought me a shot of Tequila." It seemed like an overstep but I wasn't upset. I was however curious to see what he would do with me at the table.

I reached out and shook his hand as I introduced myself. I'm a big guy. I stand 6'3" tall and weigh 220lbs but he made me feel small. He was at least 6'5" and likely weighed more than 250lbs of what looked like pure muscle. His hand was enormous and dwarfed mine and he spoke in a deep baritone that sounded commanding and authoritative.

"Pleased to meet you," he said confidently with a firm handshake. He looked at the logo on the arm of my shirt and nodded. "Did you serve?"

"For 23 years. US Navy retired. How about you?"

"I did four years in the Marine Corp out of Camp Pendleton," Shawn said proudly and I invited him to join us.

Shawn sat down and the three of us started talk. I could tell Stacy was a little buzzed after consuming a few glasses of wine at dinner followed by several beers and a shot at the two bars we'd been to. She was being much more outgoing and flirtatious than usual, both with me and with our new friend Shawn. She laughed heartily at his jokes and her gaze repeatedly lingered on him for a few extra moments, sending an unspoken message that she was into him. It was rather surreal to watch but for some reason I was okay with it. I was enjoying sharing war stories with a fellow serviceman and oddly enough I was having fun watching Stacy interact with him as well.

It was after midnight and the band had just ended their last set. The beers and shots had flowed steadily and Shawn and I had shared most of our war stories. He had done two tours in Iraq in the early 2000s and I'd done two in Iraq and two in Afghanistan during my 23 years with the SeaBees. Stacy's flirting with both he and I had increased beyond the innocent. During her more animated moments she would touch our hands and there were several times that she and Shawn shared knowing, lingering looks. I had this weird feeling something monumental was going to happen.

"Let's find another bar," my wife giggled. I could see by the look in her eyes that Stacy was a bit drunk and I knew from experience that could go one of two ways. She would either hit a wall and want sleep or she would get loud and want to party all night and I had a hunch it was the latter.

My suspicions were confirmed moments later when Stacy slid down from her seat and grabbed both Shawn's and my hand. We'd already settled our tab and she led us out onto the street.

"There's another place down here," my wife said excitedly as she led the way to the next bar, holding both our hands in the process. We arrived at the next bar and went inside. Stacy made a bee line for the bar and ordered each of us a drink before we realized that the band there had also finished for the night.

"Fuck," my wife said in exasperation when she realized the band was packing up. "Now where? I don't want to go back to the camper yet." She pushed her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout like a spoiled child.

She looked at me and I shrugged. Then she looked at Shawn and they both smiled. I felt like I was a little out of the loop and Stacy nodded. "Where did you say you were staying?"

I couldn't recall that coming up when we were talking but I had left them alone a few times to go to the bathroom and I had no idea what they'd talked about then.

"Right up the street." Shawn replied with a devilish grin as he gestured to his left.

"Is there a bar there?" She grinned mischievously at him as she squeezed my hand. I wasn't sure where she was headed but my pulse did quicken a bit.

"There is and I have some weed back in my room too," Shawn said as he looked directly at my wife. Stacy and her friends occasionally smoked and I knew she would like that idea.

"Ooh, let's do that," she giggled. Pot wasn't really my thing and it had been years since we had smoked pot together but one thing I remembered was that weed always put Stacy in the mood.

We quickly finished our drinks and Shawn led us outside and down the sidewalk towards his hotel. Stacy was sandwiched between us holding each of our hands like we were some kind of thruple. She had a happy bounce in her step and her excitement was infectious.

We arrived at his hotel and bypassed the bar, heading straight through the spacious lobby to the elevators near the back, past the check in counter. My wife seemed especially energized as the doors closed and we rose up to his room on the 5th floor. I couldn't believe what was happening and while I was undeniably anxious I was also eager to see what would happen once we were alone. I could feel the sexual energy in the air and I had a rather insistent tingling in my groin from the theretofore unfathomable idea that we might have a threesome.

I stepped in first and surveyed his room. It was a typical upper scale 3 or 4 star hotel room. There was a bathroom immediately to the left followed by smallish closet with his suitcase on the floor. On the right wall was a dark wood dresser with a flat panel TV atop of it and past that was a matching desk and a chair. The back wall was all windows overlooking the city and in the back and to the left was a small burgundy sofa with an oval coffee table in front of it. A king sized bed was a few feet away from the sofa, facing the TV, with the bedspread turned down and a handwritten message from management on the puffy white pillows.

Shawn grabbed a vape pen from his suitcase inside the closet as soon as we entered the room and minutes later the three of us were getting stoned.

Stacy and Shawn were sitting together on the sofa with their cowboy hats side by side on the coffee table and I was sitting across from them in the terribly uncomfortable office chair. It had been a long time since I'd smoked pot and it only took a few hits to give me one hell of a buzz. Stacy took two hits as well and then cozied up to Shawn while I tried to get a handle on what was happening. Her hand was resting on his leg tracing small circles on his thigh. It was surreal. I felt like I was having an out of body experience as I watched Shawn and Stacy start to kiss and my dick was instantly hard.

My head was spinning and I couldn't believe what was happening. She brazenly climbed onto his lap and they kissed, deep and wet. Her soft moans and the squishy sounds of their lips and tongues filled my head and my heart began to race. Shawn's hand moved swiftly and confidently up my wife's silky thigh and my jaw dropped when she spread her legs wide for him, granting him access to her womanly treasures. I hadn't expected it to happen so fast but it was clear their flirting at the bar had them worked into a frenzy. He pushed her dress up and gently rubbed her pussy through her panties making her moan deep and low, like a wanton whore. The sound of their actions rattled around in my head and I began to run my fingers over my turgid, jean covered rod. Watching him fondle my wife was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen and I soon had to stop touching myself or I would have cum in my pants. It was so completely out of character for my theretofore reserved wife and I was reminded of a time a few years prior. She had just returned from her annual girls trip and told me and several of our friends at a party that she wanted to have a midlife crisis and cut loose. That had been two or three years prior but I realized that the time had come for her to do it and I was glad to be there when she did.

They continued to kiss for what felt like an eternity because I was extremely stoned but was likely just a few excruciatingly hot minutes. Then they stood up and Shawn lifted my wife's dress over her head, leaving her in just a sexy red thong, a matching Victoria Secret bra and her authentic Texas cowboy boots.

"You're gonna have to help me out of these," Stacy laughed as she flopped back on the bed and held up her boots. "I don't wear them often and I cannot get them off by myself. So unless you want to fuck me with my boots on." Stacy laughed at her own joke while I watched dumbfounded as Shawn moved into position to help my wife take off her boots.

In my impaired state I could barely grasp what was happening and my head was spinning knowing that my wife had just told a man we'd met a few hours earlier that he could fuck her. Mine was, to the best of my knowledge, the only cock that had been inside her in 30 years and the thought that she might fuck another man in front of me was blowing my mind. I had an inkling that I should join in but I was too stoned to move. That confused me because I hadn't smoked any more than Stacy had but it had been years and I evidently had no tolerance for weed mixed with a lot of alcohol.

With her boots and socks off Stacy sat on the edge of the bed facing the TV with Shawn in front of her. She looked up at him and smiled wickedly as she undid his belt and unfastened his jeans. She slid them down his thick, powerful legs and her eyes widened. She breathed deep and stared at his crotch.

"Oh my God," my wife gasped and my jaw went slack. I could see the outline of his tumescent cock in his pale blue boxer briefs and from my vantage point just seven or eight feet away it looked huge.

"You like?" Shawn teased with a knowing smile. He grabbed his shaft over his underwear and nodded at my pretty wife.

"I'm a little scared to be honest Baby," my wife confessed. She batted her long eyelashes at him and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, apparently eager to see his unclothed manhood.

"So its bigger than his?" Shawn laughed and shrugged arrogantly and my shoulders tensed. I knew I had a decidedly average sized dick but I'd never felt insecure about it until then.

"Oh my God yes. It's not even close. You are really big," Stacy giggled as his thick, dark brown cock sprung free. "How big are you?" She bit lightly on her bottom lip and gazed wantonly up at him as her golden brown eyes glimmered with desire.

"About eight or so inches. Don't worry, you're gonna love it."

Stacy grabbed his meaty shaft and stroked it slowly. He was still only semi erect and already much longer and thicker than me at my best. His huge cock curved downward under its own weight as it continued to grow. I felt woefully inadequate and terribly insecure at that moment. My cheeks were burning from the humiliation of their words but oddly my dick was still rock hard and I fumbled with my zipper with my eyes affixed to the union of my wife's small, pale hand and his big black cock. The contrasting hues between them added to the eroticism. I'd never given interracial sex much thought and it certainly wasn't one of my hot buttons but I couldn't deny they looked good together.

Stacy pointed the bulbous circumcised head of Shawn's black dick as her full, pink lips. She smiled up at him and then tentatively licked the very tip, sampling a drop of clear precum. A soft moan escaped her lips and my mind started to reel. I couldn't recall her ever liking the taste of my dick, or if she had she certainly hadn't verbalized it.

"Mmm, you taste good," my wife purred in a low, sexy voice. Then she slowly and deliberately licked the underside of his cock from his big, cum laden balls to his spongy head. Her eyes closed and a euphoric expression danced on her face. She grabbed his shaft with both hands, something I was painfully aware would be unnecessary with my dick, and guided it into her open mouth.

It was like a gut punch watching my wife of 25 years suck another man's cock. I felt like the room was spinning and I had a deep, foreboding pit in my stomach but at the same time my dick was throbbing and twitching as if it had a mind of its own.

Her head bobbed slowly but because of his girth she could only fit the first three or so inches into her mouth. Her lips were stretched thin around his fat cock and she began to moan in steady rhythm with the motion of her hands and mouth. She continued like that for several long minutes with intermittent breaks where she would lick his hairy balls, drag her tongue slowly up the underside of his shaft and then lick around the tip of his huge cock as she gazed into his eyes. It was as if she was worshipping at the alter of his big black dick and that though too was like a Mike Tyson punch to my solar plexus. It took my breath away and left me nauseous but my throbbing dick was juxtaposed to my sick feeling inside and I had to stroke it.