White Bitches with Black Itches

Brian Levine no longer considered himself to be an average American husband. Sure, he had the prerequisite wife, good job, home in the suburbs, two cars and a television for every room. But how many husbands let their wives meet with a black man to fuck every two weeks? Despite what the slutwife porn sites would have you believe, Brian guessed that the figure was incredibly low.

Just three months ago he'd returned home early one day to find his wife Debbi spreading her legs for a huge black man. She admitted later that she had always loved long, thick cocks, and that Brian's just didn't hold the same appeal. She'd selected a black man simply to add an exotic element to her adventure. Rather than have a conniption fit, or destroy their marriage, Brian had devised a very unusual deal. She could feed her addiction twice a month. In exchange, Brian could enjoy any sexual proclivity he wanted, with her or without her. So far, he'd stayed true to her, including her in his experiments with bondage, domination, exhibitionism and more. Debbi had been an apt and enthusiastic student, and their sex life had greatly improved. It had all seemed like a good idea at the time. But now Brian was having his doubts. Because it looked like Debbi was cheating on the deal.

At the center of his suspicions stood the flyer guys. While crafting their deal, Brian had wondered how such a raw, ferocious-looking black man could walk into his lily-white neighborhood, and then his home, without drawing the neighbor's interest. According to Debbi's explanation, he posed as a flyer guy, one of the down-and-out men who delivered advertising flyers throughout the subdivision. He'd deliver his route, slip inside the unlocked front door, give Debbi what she wanted, and then finish his route. Sometimes she'd tip him, but never pay him outright. Her body was his reward.

It sounded plausible enough. Then one day Brian had returned from work early to find that several flyer guys were working the neighborhood. And by following each trail of flyers to the end, he noticed many stopped in the middle of the block. Obviously there were other wives receiving flyer guy service! A knot growing in his stomach, he'd slowly wheeled into his driveway, knowing that Debbi had gotten "serviced" the week before. It was too early for the next visit! Fortunately, he saw flyers on both neighbors' porches. But did that mean the flyer guy had already been there and gone? He'd stomped inside, prepared to make a scene, only to discover that Debbi wasn't even home. Though she'd dodged a bullet on that one, his suspicions remained.

Which explained why Brian now sat slouched in his car, surreptitiously watching the sub's only entrance for the arrival of the flyer guys. His instincts had sounded a warning that morning. Debbi had rushed him out of the house faster than usual. She'd laid out a much sexier outfit than usual. And her explanation that she'd be attending a card party at the Winslow's that day rang a little hollow. Who would go to a card party dressed like that? She'd be a laughingstock. So he'd called in sick, taken up a post at the sub entrance, and hunkered down for a long stakeout.

The flyer guy vans were easy to spot: blue, battered and barely running. It made sense. Two nice vehicles filled with tough-looking black guys would draw more attention in his neighborhood than these vans would. It was what you would expect to see. Given the athletic build of the man he'd caught Debbi with, Brian had wondered if the man was a professional male prostitute. But prostitutes fucked for money. So he guessed that they were all just a bunch of black guys who liked putting it to white women.

He followed the vans into the sub at a discreet distance. But to his surprise, they didn't stop at any of the usual corners. Instead, they continued straight to the back of the sub, pulling into the driveway of a home he knew fairly well. It belonged to Kate and Paul Winslow, two of the first residents in the sub. Actually, Paul was one of the first residents. Kate was his new trophy wife, a raven-haired beauty with big breasts and the kind of eyes that could eat you alive. They owned the biggest home in the sub, a long Colonial set far back from the street and surrounded by woods on three sides. Even the front had a full complement of trees, revealing just enough of the house to set off the jealousy meters in the neighbors.

Brian silently counted as the men, laughing and smiling, left the vans and trooped into the house. Eight blacks and three whites. Eleven in all. Brian doubted that Kate could handle all eleven by herself, even given her youth and rumored sexual stamina. That left a couple of obvious, but bizarre, conclusions. But he didn't want to follow that train of thought just yet.

Ten minutes later a white Explorer pulled up and a beautiful blond got out. Michele Corvath. And dressed for a night out dancing, with a short black leather skirt, white blouse, white stockings and high heel shoes. She wouldn't be any more obvious if you'd painted "Come Fuck Me" on her forehead. A few minutes later two more wives from the subdivision showed up, also dressed to party. It looked like the card party had much higher stakes than Deb had mentioned.

Just the thought of what might be happening inside set Brian's dick to throbbing. He had to see for himself. He had to at least get a look inside, and if possible, actually go inside. The latter would take some doing. But getting a peek inside would be easy. But how to get up to the house without being spotted? In the end he took the back way in, parking on the other side of the woods and crossing a few backyards to approach the house from the rear. To his dismay, no one was in any of the back rooms. All the action appeared to be centered in the living room, which lay at the front of the house. Aided by the heavy shrubbery, he worked his way forward, finally able to look into the front room while still being near the front porch.

Several more women had arrived, and they all sat somewhat nervously at the near end of the living room. The men had gathered in the kitchen, sharing in the drinks and food Kate Winslow had set out. Brian hadn't spotted his wife yet, and still wasn't sure whether he wanted to or not. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because just then he heard the familiar "chirp, cheep, chirp, chroo," of her car alarm setting. An unexpected thrill shot through him. She was his ticket into the house. He just had to play it right.

"Looks like it's going to be some party," he said roughly as he pulled Deb from the porch and into the bushes. "Is Lord Boa your date for the day again?"

The shocked expression on her face revealed that his guesses had hit the nail on the head. This was to be no card party; it was going to be a sex party! He pressed his advantage, "You slut. The only way I'm going to let you go in there is if I go with you. So you better think of a way to get me in the front door, and then give me free reign to wander wherever I want. And you better think fast, or I'll put an end to this whole flyer guy thing with a few well-placed phone calls!"

"But, but I can't!" she whined. "The other women...no one's allowed..."

"You will!" Brian said harshly. "The other women understand the stakes and what will happen to them if their husbands find out. I doubt there's not one other husband who'll be as liberal and understanding as I've been. Hell, Michele's husband is such a bigot he'd probably divorce her on the spot. So you better find a reason for me to 'observe.' And make it a good one. Or else..." He left the threat dangling, not ready to share how far he'd go. Besides, he hadn't thought that far ahead.

Giving his wife a slap on the ass, he sent her into the house, then moved onto the porch. Now he'd see how good she was at improvising to save her skin. He knew he'd taken a risk. He had enough leverage to convince the women to let him in. The men, however, could just come out and beat the shit out of him. At eleven to one, it wouldn't take them long.

Two minutes later the door opened and his wife let him in. He allowed her to push him into the adjoining library; she obviously had some warnings for him. "They say you can come in. They say you can watch. The men all agreed too. But they all say that everything you see and hear today stays in here. The women know they can't enforce that rule. But the men say that if you screw up their good thing, they'll find you and kill you." She pushed close to him and repeated it with worry in her voice, "They said it just like that. They'll kill you."

He laughed, though a small flutter of fear tightened his heart. He'd expected the threat, and actually hadn't expected to be allowed inside. The very thought of seeing so many white women being screwed by so many big cocks immediately stiffened his own. Feigning more confidence than he felt, he reached under Deb's skirt and squeezed her pussy. "I'll be sure to stop by and see you," he promised, not surprised at all to find her sopping wet. "Now get back to your party. I can take care of myself."

He was in! And most of all, he had the chance to make the best of a bad situation. He thought about the women he'd seen in the living room. Many were from their own social circle, and he'd often fantasized about what they looked like under their expensive designer clothes. Which had fake boobs? Which dyed their hair? Which were wild women in bed, and which were submissive? Now he'd find out all that and more. Too bad there hadn't been a reason to bring a camera. He'd just have to commit it all to memory.

After stepping into the nearby bathroom for a little relief and underwear adjustment, Brian set off to take a tour of the home. He wasn't surprised to find that everyone had cleared out of the living room. These women weren't quite the type to go in for the group orgy thing, and the house certainly had enough rooms to accommodate everyone. He started in the smallest of the four bedrooms, where a blond woman he didn't recognize was dancing seductively for the black man laying on the bed. The man already had his cock out, lightly stroking it as the woman slowly removed her clothes. Brian saw that underneath her conservative dress she'd worn a come-fuck-me bustier and stocking set, complete with little buttons along the crotch for easier access. Though both glanced in his direction, they promptly ignored him. Obviously they were pre-occupied with other matters.

By the end of her dance the woman had pushed down the bustier straps to reveal a very shapely set of boobs, with puffy nipples already fully erect. Pulling the woman down to him, the man latched onto one tit and then the other, stretching her soft flesh as he pulled and sucked on her hard nubs. Lust burning in his eyes, he pushed her head down and forced his thick cock into her mouth. Nearly as thick as a beer bottle, his ebony rod stretched her mouth to the limit, stifling any sounds she might be making. Heedless of her distress, he pushed even more of his fuck stick past her lips, purposely bouncing his hips to make her head snap back and forth. Finally he released her enough that she could get his cock out of her mouth, before smashing her face into his balls, demanding that she lick him until he came. Lapping madly at his sack, shaft and head, soon her face glistened with spit, sweat and pre-cum. Shifting her body to put her tongue in a better position, she wound up twisted so that Brian could watch her pussy lips flexing as she bent to her task. He longed to see that fat black cock pierce her slit. Soon, though, it became obvious that the man wanted nothing more than a blowjob, and that without being able to properly suck his cock, the climax would be a long time coming.

Feigning patience, Brian stepped down to the next bedroom. This proved much more exciting as Steph Kinney lay on the bed taking it from behind from a thin black dude. Her face a rictus of pleasure and pain, Steph managed to cast a glare his way before shutting her eyes and tensing her body against the man banging away behind her. Stretched out in this position her already small breasts were barely recognizable as tits at all, save for the hard nubs of her nipples poking out. But Brian already knew she was small-breasted, having clearly seen the outlines of her tits through her wet t-shirt at a raucous barbecue. What he really wanted to see was her ass. And he couldn't do that from the doorway.

Watching the man carefully, Brian made his way into the room.

"You the husband that done found out?" the man asked him, not breaking his rhythm in the least.

"Yeah," Brian answered, coming around the bed until he could watch the black stick sliding in and out of Steph's big red pussy.

"You remember what we tole you. Don't fuck this up for us, or you a dead man. Don't take much to do it. Ain't no big thing, either. I'd do it myself, if they want. So you can creep around lookin' and watchin'. Fuck, you can even join in. Sloppy seconds, you know? The homes don't care. But jes don't fuck this up. I like my white meat too much for that."

Brian nodded, then turned his attention to the thin, long cock ramming deep into her fuck socket. Suddenly the man pulled out, raising startled protestations. "Shut up, bitch," he snapped at her, "before I go find someone else. "Now I gotta whip your ass before I fuck your brains out." With that he raised his hand high and brought it down hard on the fat part of her ass, her cry echoing the sound of the slap. Below the wicked hand imprint on her ass Brian could see the folds of her cunt spasming wildly. She was having an orgasm! Brian smiled as he noted the fullness of her cunt mound and the length of her slit. He'd guessed that tiny tit Steph would have a big fat gash. Brian watched as she received several more bone rattling swats before flipping over and spreading her legs for her chocolate lover. He moved enough to see the man's thin cock penetrate her pussy lips before disappearing deep in her hot slot. He guessed the guy would be about eight inches long. Respectable. But not as impressive as Lord Boa.

Heading toward the third bedroom he glanced into the bathroom on his right, then did a double-take. Inside, his wife Debbi frantically sucked the blood-fattened cock of a stocky, red-haired white guy, while simultaneously fucking herself with a toilet brush handle. He could barely hear her slurps and gasps, so much did the man's thick cock fill her mouth. Again and again the angry red flesh disappeared between her lips, only to reappear slimy and wet, covered in small red scores made by her teeth. As she bobbed her head and crammed as much of him into her mouth as possible, she did the same with the brush handle, shoving it deep inside her and twisting it back and forth. Slick with her juices well up the shaft, it nonetheless looked like a painful tool to use on herself. But when Brian checked her eyes for some plea for help, he instead saw a mixture of shame and lust. Obviously he'd have to pick up a toilet brush on the way home.

In the third bedroom he found two women teaming up on a well-muscled and scarred black stud. One he knew, Anne Marie Caswell, an auburn haired beauty with a petite build in everything except her tits. He'd often fantasized about what it'd be like to fuck those tits. Now he could watch it being done, as the black man, who he'd call Scar, pressed his huge cock between her sexy jugs. The other woman, a blond he didn't know, kept busy by licking his cock as it appeared from between her tits, keeping the whole endeavor as slick and slippery as possible. Unfortunately, the whole show lasted just a few strokes longer. That's when the man pushed the two women into position leaning side by side over the bed. First he fucked Anne Marie doggy-style for a while, and then moved over to the other woman. Back and forth he went, never staying in one cunt for longer than 10 strokes. Unlike the lesbian models found on the web, these two women studiously ignored each other, except to glance over when it was their turn to be fucked. So big and thick was he, and so tight were they, that Brian could actually hear a small pop each time the man pulled his poker out of their pussy. As with most of the other women, they appeared blissfully unaware that he was watching them. Or that his very stiff dick was threatening to burst out from his shorts at any time.

Turning into the family room he found Michele Corvath receiving the fucking of her life. Though bucking up and down and gasping desperately, she was pinned to the floor by a nine-inch, hose-thick python, wielded by an ebony body-builder equally massive and strong. Fascinated, Brian could see her pussy stretch and flex as it fought to accommodate his cock. And when he took a particularly shallow stroke, he thought he could see the head traveling just below her toned skin, like a groundhog burrowing through the soil. Even as he fucked her savagely, he kept one hand free to paw her tits and twist her nipples. With every stroke her heel-clad feet beat a sharp tattoo against the floor, and she'd arch her back in total submission to the monster within her. Just as Brian turned to go, the man withdrew from her cunt and began jacking off, assisted by Michele's fumbling fingers. A stream of cum shot from the head with fire-hose intensity, splattering her face, neck, tits and stomach. Two more shots added to the creamy glop on her body, making it look like someone had poured a pitcher of milk all over her. As she eagerly scooped it onto her fingers and then into her mouth, the man stuck his cock back inside her, fucking her some more and causing her to squirm with delight.

Desperately turned on, Brian staggered into the kitchen to find Jellese Stuart taking it doggy style on top of the kitchen table. Crouching on hands and knees, ass canted in the air, and a black python violently splitting her ass cheeks, she looked as wanton and cheap as a drunk sorority girl. Raven haired, big breasted and nicely rounded, Jellese had long been on Brian's fantasy list. Though he longer to pull his now hardened cock out and stick it between her moaning lips, he could only lean against the counters and watch someone else slam into her hot, wet pussy. With each stroke her big tits scraped along the table, her nipples bouncing against the hard surface. Her juices, sweat and cum splattered the table top, leaking from her cunt with every backstroke. Her moans grew louder and more frantic until she spasmed like she'd been branded by an iron. Weakened by the shattering orgasm, she could barely keep her balance on the table. Abruptly releasing his long, pulsing rod from her hole, the man took two steps and stuffed it in her face. Eagerly slurping and licking her cum from the slimy shaft, she gobbled at the head while squeezing and fondling his sack and balls. His orgasm filled her mouth so fast that she couldn't swallow it all, and Brian was again treated to the sight of a happy, cum-splashed face. As he left Jellese was already begging for more.

Surrounded by so much sex Brian had to relieve a little of the pressure he felt between his legs. But where could he go? What room wasn't occupied by one of his wife's friends indulging in some big cock? He didn't want to attract the attention of the men, or interrupt the women, by rubbing himself in their sight. But he needed to do something now! Leaning against a wall, he looked back into the family room, where Michele was still getting an after sex fuck. What the hell! He'd go for it. Reaching down, he unzipped his pants and freed his completely erect cock. He could feel that some pre-cum had already wet his shorts. After just a few soft strokes another glob of it welled up from his dick slit. Using the palm of his hand he rubbed it up and down his shaft. The lubrication felt exquisite! Maybe he could jack off while watching Michele get pounded? The thought of spurting his cum all over the floor felt exciting.