To Whom it May Concern

To Whom it May Concern

Husband's TMI email exposes naughty wife & friend.

Author's note: I've always enjoyed stories about well-hung houseguests overstaying their welcome and cuckolding a nice-guy hubby, so I decided to pen my own version.

The story is written and told in the form of an email. You are a recipient of the message. After reading, please take a second to vote, and your comments and feedback are always welcome.

To Whom it May Concern,

Hey there. In case you don't recognize my g-mail name in this email, it's Gene Harris. Yes, Grace's husband. I hope all is well with you. This email is going out to about 30 people, friends and family, who I think deserve some information or explanation. I don't want to talk to anyone right now and I'm not ready to answer questions, so please don't ask. I'll try to cover everything that really matters in this email. Cut me some slack if I ramble a little or jump around some. Writing this is not easy.

I'm sure that you've seen Grace's Facebook and Instagram posts by now, so you know that she gave birth three days ago. Grace is fine and so is the baby. Her name is Keisha. It's African and it means "great joy". Grace picked it out. Judge all the baby pictures for yourself, but I think you'll agree that Keisha has Grace's dimpled chin. Otherwise, she doesn't really take after her mother very much and she doesn't resemble me at all. LOL!

I think just about all of you came to our wedding. It's hard to believe that Grace and I have been married four years now and we're both pushing 25 years old! We weren't really planning to start a family quite yet but sometimes things happen, right?

The chain of events that led to little Keisha actually started about a year ago. I remember because Grace and I were celebrating our third anniversary. I don't have to tell any of you that Grace is about the most beautiful girl in the world. She was pretty back in high school, when we started going out, and she has grown more gorgeous with time. I take credit for her long blonde hair, which used to be brown before I convinced her to change it. Her luscious breasts have gotten a whole lot bigger and are practically bursting with milk right now, but I'm sure that Grace will recover her shape quickly after little Keisha is weaned. I'm almost jealous now because Keisha is getting to suck Grace's puffy pink nipples as much as she wants while I'm cut off! But, truth be told, I've been cut off for a while.

BTW, if I'm going to explain how my lily-white wife was brought home from the hospital today by her lily-white husband (yours truly), cradling a newborn black baby in her arms, I'm not going to sugarcoat the story or leave out the sordid details. It's going to get a little down and dirty here and there. If it's "too much information" for you, that's okay. It's TMI for me too, but you can just stop reading anytime you want. I have live with it.

Incidentally, Grace is also receiving this email, so she is seeing our story spelled out in black and white (nice play on words) the same way that you are.

In the beginning

As I was saying, it all started about this time last year. Grace and I were happy in our marriage, and we had a good sex life going, or I thought so at least. It was a Friday night. Grace and I always had sex on Friday nights, no matter what. It was a rule that we made when we got married. That Friday was no different. We ate supper at home instead of going out. She was as happy as I've ever seen her. After dinner, we watched TV for a few minutes before Grace gave me a smile and reached over to rub her hand on the zipper of my jeans. I was relaxed and limp as a wet noodle when she first touched my pants.

"It's Friday night and I don't believe you're ready for it," Grace said with an adorable expression that combined sweetness, innocence, and naughtiness.

I smiled when I told her, "Give me a break! You can't just reach over and expect me to have a boner ready for you!"

"Why not?" she asked between giggles. "I'm horny as shit and I need you to give me some fucking relief!" Grace hardly ever used profanity during normal conversation, but she knows that I just absolutely love it when she talks dirty, so she cusses a lot when we're ready for sex, mainly to turn me on.

Without budging from the spot where I was lounging on the living room sofa, I pulled down my zipper and fished out my penis. I'm an average sized guy, but my dick always looks a little small when it's limp, as it was then.

"Get me hard, Grace, if you want to get fucked so bad!" I growled for effect.

"Yes Sir! Right away sir!" Grace responded in mock subservience as she wrapped her hand around my dick, causing it to quickly become more rigid. Once in a while Grace would let me act like I was "top dog" in our house, but in reality, I pretty much always let her have her way, and she wears the pants in our little family.

I could tell that Grace was "horny as shit", just as she said, by the way that she yanked my pants off and dove, face-first, into my hairy crotch. After she sucked my dick into her mouth, she began a slow jacking motion with her right hand.

"Oh fuck!" I groaned, "You really are a horny bitch, aren't you?" Grace nodded a definite yes without pausing her blow job and she continued to arouse me with her warm and wet mouth, swirling tongue, and rhythmic hand motion.

"My fucking pussy is on fire!" she moaned during a two-second pause. "You need to eat my pussy now and then fuck the shit out of me!"

I could tell that Grace meant business when my penis slipped out of her mouth as she stood up to tear off her clothes. As usual, she was wearing a bra and panties under her shorts and tee shirt, even though it was just the two of us, kicking back at home. And it was Friday night, after all. But the extra undergarments didn't slow her down any as she made herself naked in the blink of an eye.

"Take me to bed and fuck my cunt after you eat me!" Grace barked as she took my hand and tugged me from the couch to our bedroom. She never used the word "cunt" so when I heard her say it, I knew that she was extra hot to trot!

I was happy to have Grace tell me, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted me to take her to bed, perform oral sex on her, and then fuck her cunt. If there is one complaint that I have regarding our sex life, it would be the "uncertain terms". With a beautiful woman like Grace, any red-blooded man wants to please her, but she was never very vocal about exactly what it would take.

What Grace was doing to my dick was nothing short of magical, so I didn't want it to stop. To pleasure her at the same time, I swung myself around into a 69 position. As she continued to slurp and suck my dick I stuck my tongue out and started licking between her pussy lips, working my way toward her clit.

"Mhhhh Mmhhhhhhh!" she moaned, thoughtfully keeping my dick wrapped in her mouth. We drove each other crazy in the best possible way for several minutes, then Grace let me slip out of her mouth with a comical "pop" sound.

Grace's face was smeared with slobber when she swung around and demanded, "I want you to fuck me! Now!"

It took mere seconds for me to reposition myself and kiss her sloppy lips as I climbed atop her. I'll go into more detail later, but suffice it to say I'm pretty much self-taught when it comes to lovemaking. More than anything, I base my technique on an old song:

You want a man with a slow hand,

you want a lover with an easy touch,

you want somebody who will take some time,

not come and go in a heated rush.

I've always tried to be nice and gentle with Grace, and I always assumed that she appreciated it, but it was noticeable when she started cussing a little more often, moaning a little louder, and just getting a lot more frisky. It was like she wanted a man with a fast hand, or something. I didn't know yet what was going on that night, but she was ready to rattle the cage, that's for sure.

I mounted Grace in a standard missionary position. It was our usual starting place. My stiff willie easily slipped into her welcoming twat and I started my easy-going in-and-out motion.

"Oh, Gene," she said loudly, "Don't hold back! I'm fucking horny! Give me your dick, all of it!"

She had it all, but I pressed harder and twisted my hips, sort of "corkscrewing" her. It was pure instinct since I was not used to her seemingly insatiable lust. After a minute, she seemed satisfied.

"Oh yeah, Gene, that's it! Fuck me! Fuck me! Make me feel it!"

We went at it for a couple of minutes. She was more active than usual and it seemed as if she was drawing my dick deeper into her pussy. I began to slow down, trying to fall back on my usual more-relaxed rhythm, but she would not have it.

"No! Don't slow down! Keep fucking me harder!"

It took all I had to continue reaming out her pussy, but that's what I did. It was a relief when she started shrieking with an orgasm.

"Oh fuck, Gene! I'm cumming! Keep it up! Make me cum hard! Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Ahhhhhhhhhh!

I came right after her. "Oh baby, I'm cumming too! Oh, oh, oh, oh!"

As I rolled off of her, I chuckled and asked, "what on earth got into you tonight? I've never seen you so hot and horny!"

"I don't know," Grace responded, "but it felt good. I think maybe part of it was because I've been holding back a little surprise. I wanted to get our Friday fun-day out of the way before I told you!"

I looked at Grace quizzically and asked, "okay, what's the surprise?"

Grace smiled like the cat that ate the canary, then she said, "I was surprised today when I got a private message from "Leroy".

"Leroy?" I asked, shaking my head because the name was not ringing a bell. "Do we know a Leroy?

"Yes!" Grace reacted as if I was a dunce. "His name is Leroy, and that's what showed up on my cell phone, but he always went by "Lee". Lee Jones. I don't blame him for never wanting to be called 'Leroy'. It's kind of a stereotype for black guys like him, but it is his legal name and he uses it now on social media."

"Lee?!" I exclaimed in earnest surprise. "You should have said 'Lee' in the first place! Good old Lee! I can't believe it! Lee was my best buddy growing up, from first grade through high school. I've known Lee longer than I've known you!"

I sat up and turned toward Grace as we both remained naked on our mattress. "I'm a little surprised that he contacted you instead of me! We were practically joined at the hip, on the football and basketball teams together! We both went out for sports, but Lee actually played while I warmed the bench most of the time. When Lee joined the Army, right after graduation, he wanted me to join too. Remember? But I wanted to stay here with you. The last I heard, Lee was back from Afghanistan. I wonder how he's doing."

Grace smiled and gave me a little kiss, then she said, "I remember how close you guys were. I remember the three of us hanging out all the time and doing stuff. I'll never forget when we all had the same Spanish class. The other kids called us 'tres amigos' and the name kind of stuck. Well, Honey, you're going to find out how Lee is doing because his Army enlistment is up and he's coming back here, at least for now. He's coming to our place for dinner a week from today!"

Shifting around to face me directly, Grace said eagerly, "I can't wait to see him!" "Me too!" I concurred. But at that moment, I saw a gleam in her eye that gave me pause. It just seemed slightly out of place. I had to wonder whether her happy horniness was somehow remotely related to Lee's return, but that seemed pretty unlikely so I dismissed the thought on the spot.

Grace and I spent the week preparing for Lee's arrival. I stocked up on Lee's favorite beer and Grace bought groceries for the meals she planned to cook. I texted Lee and told him to cancel the motel reservations he'd made because we had an extra bedroom, our "guest room", made up and ready for him.

Grace was as eager as I was, maybe more, to see Lee again, but she had some trepidation about him lodging with us for an extended period of time.

"Our house is not that big," Grace said when I told her that I invited Lee to stay at our home. "Maybe it would be better if he stayed at a motel. He'd have a lot more privacy. We'd all have more privacy and we could still get together with him any time we want.

"No!" I insisted. "We have plenty of room here, and if the situation was reversed, I'm sure that Lee would have no problem with us crashing at his place."

The arrival

When Lee arrived at our doorstep, I tackled him in a man-hug as if we were still teenage athletes on the high school playing field. Grace tightly embraced him as well and complimented him on his appearance. Lee had the build and the stature of a military man, different from the gangly kid that we had remembered. Grace returned Lee's compliment and told him that he looked "amazing".

Grace fixed a delicious dinner and we spent hours sitting around, drinking beer and catching up on the small-town gossip and goings-on that Lee had missed. Lee was exhausted from his travel and Grace and I were talked out and half-drunk, so it was an early night for everyone. There would be many more nights for all of us to share, although I had no idea at that time what that sharing would entail.

War stories

Two days after Lee's visit with Grace and me started, while we were getting used to having him stay with us, we sat around, the three of us, drinking and talking about the past few years. Lee had avoided talking about his time in the Army and being in Afghanistan, but Grace and I wanted to hear about it.

When I asked Lee what it was like, serving in a combat zone, he answered that it was pretty much like you'd expect, not elaborating on his answer. After another round of beers, Grace probed Lee for details. "What was the worst part of being in that part of the world?" she asked him.

"Killing people," Lee answered, looking matter-of-factly at Grace, whose mouth fell open in shock.

"Oh my God!" Grace exclaimed. "You actually had to kill people?! Oh Lee, that's horrible!" As she reacted, Grace shifted her position on the couch and wrapped one

arm around Lee's shoulder in an effort to console him.

After a minute of silence, I asked, "Does it bother you now? Do you think about it much?"

Pausing as if he was deep in thought, Lee remained still. Grace began to rub his shoulder with the hand that she had rested there. Lee seemed to appreciate the consolation and gentle touch that she was offering. He spoke again.

"Killing people at a distance is not all that bad. I was trained to do it, and when the enemy is 50 yards away and you pick him off with a rifle shot, it doesn't feel much different than target practice. It's kind of far removed, you know?"

Grace and I both nodded, sadly acknowledging Lee's statement. He continued.

"What was hard, and what I think about sometimes, is the time that I had to kill a Taliban fighter up close, with my bare hands."

"Oh my God!" Grace blurted for the second time in two minutes. "I feel so bad for you and what you had to go through." Grace wrapped her other arm around Lee, giving him a tight hug as she choked back tears. Oddly, I felt a twinge of jealousy watching my wife tenderly embrace my life-long black buddy.

I would have thought that Grace would have heard enough, and would have felt enough sadness for one night, but she surprised me when she leaned away from the hug she and Lee were sharing long enough to ask, "how did you kill him?"

"I snapped his neck."

"Huhhhhhhh?!" Grace gasped. "That's so awful! How do you even do that?"

"It's pretty much the same technique whether you're wringing a chicken's neck or taking out an enemy." Then Lee broke away from Grace and stood up, facing me.

"I'll show you," Lee said. "Gene, reach out and grab me like we're going to fight."

"Bullshit!" I shouted, backing away in mortal fear. "You don't need to demonstrate your death grip on me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Lee assured me. "I just wanted to show Grace."

Grace gave me a little attitude when she said, "For crying out loud, Gene, you know you don't have to be scared of Lee! Let him show you what he's talking about."

I felt a little shame that I was acting so cowardly, so I forced a small smile and said, "Okay, Lee, I guess you can show Grace your moves, then we can have another beer and switch to something more pleasant!"

As I was beginning to say, "show me where to stand," Lee moved lightning fast, slapping my left arm away, grabbing my right arm and spinning me sideways as he hooked my neck in his muscular bicep and held my head in his hand, squeezing my skull with his fingers.

"I just need to give your head a half-turn, counter-clockwise, and you're dead." That said, Lee released me and gave me a pat on the back. "Now, who else needs a beer?"

As Lee headed for the fridge, I looked at Grace. I had never seen it expressed on her pretty face before, but she was obviously awe-struck with nothing short of total admiration, and it was Lee, not me, that she was admiring.

As for me, I knew at that moment that Lee, the war hero, was more a man than I was, and I would never want to do anything to piss off my good old pal. It also occurred to me that the conversation and demonstration were possibly pivotal moments in each of our lives, changing the way that Grace saw Lee, and me.

100 women

In the days that followed Lee's moving into our home, we fell into a comfortable routine. We ate meals and watched TV together, and we talked a lot.

One thing we didn't talk about was sex. It didn't come up in everyday conversation, and we all had sort-of avoided the subject anyway, until one night. The three of us were watching an old James Bond movie on television and, of course, 007 slid between the sheets with every female in the film. Stupid me, trying to be funny, said, "Hey Lee, is this the story of your life? How many women have you managed to take down?"

Grace was laughing, but she stopped cold and gasped loudly when Lee answered, "I haven't kept count, but I'd say about a hundred."

"Oh bullshit!" I blared. "We knew you in high school, and you did your share of dating, but you were no Don Juan, Buddy. One-hundred women!" In your dreams maybe!"

Siding with me, Grace asked, "Why would you even say that, Lee? I know you're trying to impress Gene and me, but give me a break! How did you ever come up with a hundred?!"

Lee leaned forward with a confident, almost cocky, demeanor, and he answered. "Okay, I was gone in the service for four years. Twelve months in a year, times four. That's 48 months. I was pretty buff, and I did look sharp in my uniform, and out of uniform, too. You know, some girls don't like black guys, but a lot of them do, so I was hooking up with different women at least two or three times a month, easy. Usually more than that. Believe me or don't, but I'm not bullshitting when I say I've had a hundred chicks."

Grace slumped on the couch, stared at Lee, and simply said, "Wow."

Lee was kidding around when he asked me, "So how many women have you had Gene?"

"Less than a hundred!" I answered with a laugh, which got Lee and Grace laughing too.

I was still skeptical, and it probably showed when I asked, "So how's your love life since you got back? You haven't mentioned anybody or any big dates."

"I'm still trying to settle in and I'm not really trying very hard," Lee said, "but I'm glad you brought it up. I actually met someone at the Veterans Affairs office and I'm taking her out Saturday night. It wouldn't be a problem if she spent the night here, would it?"