24-12-2015, 03:37 PM (This post was last modified: 24-12-2015, 03:37 PM by mech007.)
I’d never really been obsessed with black men, the way some white women are. Sure, Nitin and I watched a lot of inter-racial porn on the internet, usually on a Saturday night when the kids were at Nitin’s Mom’s, but there is just so much of it, it was hard to avoid. We could pass a very pleasant evening in front of the monitor, sipping drinks, with his hand down my panties and my hand stroking his meat. It reminded us of our courting days and it would usually end up with a very nice fuck when we finally hit the sack. By that time he’d be hard as a rock and I’d be dripping.
I wasn’t infatuated with big cocks for one thing. Those monsters that hung halfway down a guy’s thigh and looked as if they’d need a crane to get erect actually scared me. They looked so uncomfortable, despite the yelps of pleasure the actresses gave as they were forced into their tight little twats. I should have noticed that Nitin kept navigating to the IR sites but, as I’ve said, I just wasn’t interested in the color or size of the appendages on offer, I just liked seeing pretty people fucking. What I did notice, if anything, was that many of these inter-racial encounters were between married women and their black lovers, and often with the encouragement and approval of their husbands. I don’t know if that’s what put the thought into Nitin’s head, because we didn’t really talk a lot about sex, we just did it. Something to do with our upbringing I suppose. Not exactly repressed, just that we kept our fantasies, if we had any, strictly inside our own heads.
Anyway, Nitin’s boss at the plant where he worked was a black guy called Byron. Byron was about ten years older than Nitin with a little grey at the temples and maybe a couple of inches taller. He was a good-looking guy with a wide smile that could light up a room. Always, smiling, always laughing, always joking, I liked him, but not in that way, for no other reason than I didn’t think about other men. Not real other men anyway, just the usual movie stars and stuff. I’d been faithful to Nitin since we married twelve years ago and had no intention of cheating on him.
Hell, I’m telling you all this stuff and I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Varsha, though everybody calls me Vishu. I’m 34 years old and have two kids, I have short blonde hair, I’m five six and weigh around one twenty pounds. I have a fairly average body, not fat and not too busty or too hippy. Basically, I’m as average as they come. Nitin tells me he likes me the way I am and how sexy I am, so he’s not interested in other women. He follows Paul Newman’s adage of ‘why go out for hamburger when you’ve got steak at home’, sensible man. It’s good for a woman’s ego to know she’s regarded as steak. Unless her husband’s a vegetarian, of course!
Anyway, one evening Byron had been over for dinner as he and his wife had split up and Nitin was trying to curry favour with him as there was a promotion in the offing. It wasn’t sneaky or anything, everybody was doing it and Byron was well aware of what was going on. The general feeling was that Byron would give the promotion to the guy whose wife fed him best. That meant that my Nitin had no chance, as I was an average cook at best.
After he’d left Nitin said, “I bet Byron’s lonely in that big house now Marion’s gone.”
“Well he would be,” I agreed, “They were together a long time. Just lucky they didn’t have any kids and had a clean break.”
“He was looking at you, all through dinner.”
“No.”
“I’m telling you. His eyes were travelling all over you, undressing you.”
“You’re nuts!”
“He was trying to imagine what you’d look like naked.”
“Nitin!” I squealed.
I was washing the dishes and he came up behind me, put his arms around my waist and pressed against me. I could feel his hardness against my ass.
“I think he’d like to fuck you.”
I tried to spin round but he held me fast and started pumping his crotch against my butt. “Fuck you with that big, black, cock of his.”
“Have you taken leave of your senses? The kids are right next door.”
“They won’t hear, they’re too busy with that game Byron brought them.”
I finally managed to push him off me and turned to face him. “Have you gone out of your mind? What’s brought all this on?”
“I’ve always fantasised about seeing you with a black guy.”
“Since when?” I asked.
“Since a long time, but seeing Byron eyeing you really brought it home.”
I looked down at his groin and just talking about it had given him an incredible boner.
“Well, it’s not going to happen,” I told him sternly, “so you can put that little fantasy back in your locker.”
“Why?” he asked, grabbing my crutch and squeezing my pudenda.
“Because I’m a married woman and I’m faithful to my husband,” I answered.
“I’ll bet you’re wet,” he said, “I’ll bet you’re wet just thinking about it.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“If you’re wet down there, you want it.”
I tried to fight him off, but he pushed me against the draining board and holding me with one hand, popped the button and unzipped my jeans with the other.
“Get off me, Nitin!” I protested, but to no avail.
His free hand went under the waistband of my panties, over my pubic mound and down between my legs. I tried to keep my thighs tight shut but he managed to wriggle a finger between my lips and finally into my pussy. When he pulled it out and held it in front of my face it was slick with my juice and Nitin just smiled at me.
He never said any more, just licked his finger and left me there, blushing to my roots, leaning against the worktop, with my jeans unzipped.
That night he fucked me very roughly, pounding into me as if I’d done something wrong and he wanted to extract revenge by battering my pussy. In truth his vigour excited me and I felt I deserved to be punished, if only because my juicy hole had betrayed me. I hadn’t consciously thought about being fucked by Byron, but obviously my pussy had. I came several times as Nitin rammed into me, and each time I gave out a loud groan of pleasure and dug my fingernails into my husband’s back.
As we reclined afterwards, sheathed in sweat, he asked, “Do you want me to try and get Bryon for you?”
“No,” I insisted.
“Pity,” he said, “because I’m never going to get that promotion with your pot roast.”
So, I thought to myself, that’s what this is all about. My husband wants me to trade my pussy for his job. Well, I wasn’t putting out for that. We could do with the extra money, but I was a married woman and I wasn’t going to become a slut and sell my body for Nitin’s advancement. I drifted off on that thought.
A few days later, as he was getting ready to go off to work, he asked if he could invite Byron over for dinner again.
“Hey, honey,” I replied, packing his lunch-time sandwiches, “I know you want that job, but there’s no need to be blatant about it.”
“Screw the promotion. Byron being over for dinner meant I got the best fuck for ages from you.”
I blushed again. “Well, what do you expect, you were going at me like a jack-hammer, like it was the first time you’d ever had me.”
It was his turn to look embarrassed. “You got me going, getting all wet like that.”
“It’s not a faucet I can turn on and off. I had no idea I’d been so aroused.”
“Well, you were and .. it was good.”
I gave him a peck on the cheek. “It was good for me too, but we can’t base our sex life round inviting Byron round for dinner.”
“Why not?”
“Because for one thing he’ll think we’re crazy and for another his guts probably can’t handle me feeding him too often.”
“You’re not that bad,” he consoled, pulling me to him and hugging me.
“You sweet-talker,” I giggled.
“So, I can invite him?”
“No, not so soon. In a couple of weeks maybe. Or is that too late for your promotion?”
“I told you, it’s got nothing to do with the job. Just, he turns you on and I get the benefits.”
“Which is a bit unfair on Byron,” I said, pushing him out of the door. “Nitin and Vishu get good sex and all he gets is indigestion.”
A few hours later he called me on his cell-phone and said, “Byron’s coming over for dinner tonight.”
“Nitin!” I complained.
“No, I didn’t ask him, he asked me. Said he’d like to see my cute little wife again.”
There was a sharp intake of breath and I took a moment to realise it was mine. “Cute?” I asked breathily.
“That’s what he said.”
“What does he mean?” I asked, noticing that I had sat down without even realising it.
“What do you think he means? He thinks you’re cute.”
“What have you told him?” I hissed, suddenly suspicious.
“Nothing, I swear, he just came out with it from nowhere.”
It seemed unlikely but I was mollified enough to deal with practicalities. “I don’t have anything in.”
“I saw salmon in the freezer. Make that thing in the pastry you do. He’ll like that.”
“Nitin,” I said hesitantly, “You haven’t set me up for anything, have you?”
“Honey, on my life. Anyway, what could I set you up for, with the kids in the house and everything?”
“Okay,” I said finally, “ but take him for a beer first, I’ll need some time to get things fixed.”
“Sure, sure, just make sure to look extra cute, huh,” he ordered.
“And how am I expected to do that?”
“Wear a skirt, show off those great legs.”
“How much is this promotion worth? A hundred bucks a week?”
He didn’t snap back at me but said wearily, “I told you, it’s not about the job. It’s about me and you.”
“And Byron,” I added.
“I told you he liked you.”
“Liking me is one thing. But if you’ve got in mind what I think you’ve got in mind it’s a whole different ball game.”
24-12-2015, 03:37 PM (This post was last modified: 24-12-2015, 03:38 PM by mech007.)
“I’ll never ask you to do anything you’re not completely happy with, that’s a promise.”
It was in my hands, which pleased me. Maybe I did want Byron. Maybe I could make my husband extra happy by having sex with a black man. “How short a skirt?” I asked.
In the end run I wore a blue corduroy which came to mid-thigh and this time I noticed Byron’s eyes never leaving me. Nitin hadn’t been exaggerating, this guy really did have the hots for me. The thought was both thrilling and dangerous.
After dinner we sat in the lounge drinking wine while the boys played X-Box in their room.
“Thing is,” Byron said, “that I’m a highly sexed man, but I’m not ready to get into a deep relationship again so soon.”
Nitin and I both nodded in agreement.
“At the same time,” the older man continued, “I’m not really into one-night stands, specially with some young bimbo I pick up in a bar.”
“There’s plenty of older women out there, Byron, divorcées and that sort,” Nitin said, but Byron shook his head.
“It’s my experience that these older women are actually looking for long-term relationships and are only offering sex as a lure. If I take them up on it I’m cheating them, cause like I say, I’m not in the market for settling down again for a while.”
“Well,” I said, refilling his glass, “it seems to me like you’ve boxed yourself into a corner with your honesty.”
“Yeah, maybe so, but all I’m looking for is nice, friendly, comfortable sex with no complications.”
“I’m sure you could get that,” I encouraged him, “a good looking guy like you.”
“Are you offering?” he asked with that dazzling smile.
“Byron!” I scolded, “I’m a married woman, not a slut.” I looked despairingly over at Nitin, whose face was a blank.
“Sluts sell it, Vishu, and I’m not buying. Never have paid for pussy in my life and never will.”
“If you’re looking for comfortable sex with no complications maybe you should,” I said waspishly.
“Should I have to, when there’s hot ladies like you around?”
“But I’m married,” I repeated, “and there sits my husband. Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, propositioning me while he’s sitting there?”
He sipped his wine, very casually. “Either one of you can say no and I’ll never mention it again.”
“I don’t cheat on my husband,” I said emphatically, the colour high in my cheeks.
“Which makes you a good woman, but it’s not cheating if he knows about it.”
I looked pleadingly over at hubby and he seemed to sense my disquiet.
“Give us time to think about it, Byron,” he said gravely. “This is a big step for both of us and we don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Sure,” Byron replied, toasting us with his glass, “I don’t want to be forcing you into anything you don’t want to do.”
It was the same promise that Nitin had made to me over the phone and I realised that in the end the decision would have to be mine. Would my curiosity and my lust for novelty win, or my need to remain as a respectable housewife? At that moment I just didn’t know. That night, with matters a little clearer, I was even wetter than before and Nitin was very forceful with me again. It was wonderful and for some reason I asked Nitin, as he plunged in and out of me, “Have you cheated on me, hon?”
“No, why do you ask?”
“I just thought maybe this was your way of repaying me. By allowing me to have sex with another man.”
He paused in his exertions. “No, nothing like that. This is something that gives me a buzz and I know it turns you on. I want us both to enjoy ourselves and be happy, as long as it doesn’t threaten our marriage.” That would be the crucial thing, I thought, whenever extra-marital sex reared its beautiful head, that it didn’t threaten the core relationship. But I was solid with Nitin. We had history, we had kids, nothing could threaten that.
What I had deliciously in prospect was not only extra-marital sex, but extra-marital sex with a Big Black Cock.
Nitin had settled into a smooth rhythm atop me.
“Will you want to watch?” I asked him.
“No, but you can tell me about it later.”
That was a disappointment, I’d quite looked forward to ‘performing’ for hubby, to be his own personal porn star. But something else worried me. “Do you know how big Byron is? You know what they say.” “About black guys? Sure, but Marion took him for 20 years and she was *****.”
It was true, Marion was petite, and if she could manage whatever Byron had in his pants, surely I could.
“Keep talking about it,” he urged.
So, after years of silent fucking, he’d wanted me to be more vocal all the time.
I was happy to oblige.
“Will you want sloppy seconds? You know, with his cum still inside me?”
“Maybe,” he grunted and I could tell the thought excited him.
“You don’t mind me giving him it bareback?”
“Well, I know you hate condoms.”
It was true, I thought of them as passion killers, barriers to true pleasure.
“Will it affect your relationship with him at work?”
“Don’t talk about work, talk about him fucking you.”
“Can I take him in my ass?”
“Hey, you don’t even let me up there!”
“I know,” I giggled, “I’m only teasing. But I might let him if his cock’s half the size of yours.”
“I doubt that.”
“He could be. All black men can’t be huge.”
“Don’t know about that, but I don’t think Byron’s got a small one.”
“Do you really want me to be a slut for black cock?”
He was speeding up. “Just this one, for now. Later, we’ll see.”
I felt myself beginning to come, that little under-current that built up to a wave. I dug my fingernails into his ass and he started pumping me harder and harder. I was gasping, unable to talk any more and bit into Nitins shoulder as we both came. I, just perfectly, slightly before him.
We both knew, without me ever saying anything, that I was going to go through with it. The only thing still to organise was the time and place of my introduction to a BBC. Finally we decided that I’d feel more comfortable in my own home, though this left us with the problem of the kids. As I’ve already said they were in the habit of going over to Nitin’s Mom on a Saturday night which solved that, and left my husband a night in their room while I and my lover would occupy the marital bed. Nitin especially liked the idea of slipping into a still-warm bed in the morning and screwing me directly my visitor had left.
I wanted it to be special, not just a sordid, casual, adulterous, fuck. I’d slept with other men, but it had been a long time ago, before Nitin. This was a new departure for me and I wanted to mark it out in my life. So, I suggested to Nitin that we should throw in a little role play to make the occasion extra spicy. He was a bit unsure, but my enthusiasm for the idea eventually over-whelmed him. What I suggested was that the two men should play poker for the right to bed me, with Nitin obviously losing if he still wanted me to have sex with Byron. This would still give him the opportunity, if he changed his mind, to play like the devil and win. I would head off to bed before they finished their game and I could lie there, unsure of who I was getting for a lover that night. The thought intrigued Nitin but he pointed out an obvious flaw. What if he changed his mind and still couldn’t win? I. never having played poker didn’t understand and Nitin had to explain that sometimes, no matter how good a player you were, the cards just didn’t fall right for you. I solved that by phoning Byron and telling him about my plan. Luckily he liked it and said that if he saw Nitin really trying to win he’d just let him, because he wasn’t interested in having me if Nitin didn’t approve.
With that resolved all I had to was wait, with trepidation and damp panties, for the approaching weekend. Nitin, bless him, was all nerves as well and I dreaded the fact that he might change his mind before we even got to Saturday. I spent a considerable time, therefore, in reassuring him with love, kisses and lots of sex. Every time the kids were out of the room I had my tongue down his throat and was clawing at his groin. The poor dear didn’t know what had hit him! I’d gone from being a very quiet little housewife to a raving sex-maniac. Of course, all my assaults on him were just foreplay, but I guaranteed him a good session when we finally made it to bed at night.
Come the Saturday we finally got the boys off to their Gran’s after lunch and, when Nitin returned after dropping them off, there was a curious distance between us. We still had a good few hours till Byron arrived and there seemed no reason why we shouldn’t have a little fuck by way of an aperitif, so I took my husband by the hand and led him to the bedroom. There was something I’d never let him do and which he desperately desired, and I thought that as he was being so kind to me, I should loosen my stays a little and give him what he wanted. Consequently, I pulled his jeans down and dropping to my knees took him in my mouth after telling him he could come in my mouth. It was neither as wonderful as the porn girls promised nor as disgusting as I imagined. Excited, he came quite copiously, his spunk bubbling from my lips even as I tried to swallow it down.
“Are you going to do that for him?” he asked, his hands still holding my head.
I popped his cock out of my mouth and said, “No, darling that was just for you, and I think I’ll keep it for special occasions.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing dinner, trying not to think of what was to come, but every time I went to the bathroom and checked, my panties were soaked, meaning I had to change them. If Byron hadn’t been invited for seven I’d have run out of underwear and had to sit through dinner commando.
As it was it went very well with everybody on their best behaviour and civilised. Byron had brought beer and I stuck to gin which meant that we were all quite merry by the time we retired to the lounge. We played some music and I danced with both men, even allowing Byron a quick feel of my ass as he turned me away from Nitin. He tried to pull me into a clinch but I pushed him away, “Not here, you know how we’re playing this,” I hissed into his ear.
He seemed disappointed but carried on with the charade as Nitin cleared the table and they started playing cards for me.
By this time I was pretty drunk and unsure of when I should head for bed and leave them to it. I wanted to be sober enough to enjoy the occasion however, so I quit the gin and had a black coffee instead, while the men switched to Nitin’s Scotch.
“I’m off to bed,” I announced eventually and both men just nodded, intent on their game. I had no idea of who was winning or losing and just hoped that I would get the right result.
In the bedroom I wondered whether I should sleep naked, as I normally did, or wear a nightdress. I finally decided on a rarely-used long, satin, nightdress, to make the event different to what I was used to. I also switched the bedside lamp off, really without thinking, because surely half of the joy of a BBC is the visual stimulation.
I’d drunk too much, I’m afraid, and before too long I was out of it. I must have slept for about an hour because when I woke I realised there was somebody lying beside me and I didn’t know who it was. Had it happened already and I’d been such a stupid drunken bitch that I’d missed it? No, it didn’t seem so, my nightgown hadn’t been pushed up and a quick check of my pussy confirmed that though it was wet, it didn’t seem to contain anybody’s calling card.
I let my hand steal over to my bed-partner and the firm leg I encountered wasn’t my husband’s. My heart raced. I ran the palm of my hand up and down the muscular thigh a few times before letting it go to where it really desired. He was long and thick, not porn star big but almost half again the size of Nitin. I squeezed it and my attentions must have woken him from his nap.
“You were sleeping,” he whispered in his deep voice, “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I’m awake now,” I said, turning towards him.
He took me in his arms and pulled me towards him. “Oh, Vishu, I’ve wanted you so long.”
His cock had stood up magically in my hand and was now poking me in the belly. Byron’s thick tongue invaded my mouth and I sucked on it voraciously. I could smell him now, an earthy, musky smell which was very arousing as he found when he reached between my legs and his finger slipped easily inside me.
“Wow,” he said and I had to agree, wriggling on his finger and trying to rub my clit against his palm.
He fingered me like this for a while, still tongue fucking my mouth before releasing my pussy and moving his hand to play with my titties. My nipples were standing firm and erect, demanding attention and my black lover squeezed and pinched at them, making me moan.
He disengaged from my mouth and kissed his way down to take one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting at it gently. Squashed as it was between us I didn’t have much room to jerk his cock, but just held onto it desperately, as if letting it go would make it disappear.
Eventually he took his mouth away from my boobs and pushed me onto my back so he could kiss down my belly to my pussy. There, he lapped at my lips, parting them gently and tickling my clit with the tip of his tongue. My legs spread wide I groaned with pleasure and ran my hands through his wiry hair. Suddenly, he stabbed into my hole with his tongue and I lifted my hips with surprise. Byron let go of my boobs and took his hand down to where his mouth was and where he carefully inserted one finger into my soppy pussy and another into the tighter hole behind. His tongue returned to lapping at my pussy lips and clit. It was wonderful and I started moving my hips up and down, already feeling an orgasm building up inside me. He put his free hand flat on my belly to try and control my movements and hold me still so he could continue his ministrations but they were so good that I jerked my hips wildly against his mouth and fingers like a maniac till I exploded. I clamped my thighs tightly round the poor man’s head and shook like crazy for the longest time. When my legs finally went limp he continued fucking with his tongue but I lifted the quilt and said, “You can quit now, I can only have one that way. But thank you for it, it was very nice.”
He climbed up beside me again and in the faint moonlight that was filtering in through the blinds I could see his face slick with my juice.
“Afraid I’ve messed you up,” I confessed.
“Aint nothing,” he replied, kissing me again and letting me have a taste of my own juices.
“Would you like some oral?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t say no,” and I could just barely see that wide grin on his face as he said it.
I wriggled down the bed as I had done so often with my husband, eager to get my new lover’s cock into my mouth. I’d grabbed it immediately he’d surfaced from between my thighs but now released it so I could cup and play with his balls while I sucked him. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded as his magnificent tree trunk was swaying about like a skyscraper in an earthquake, so I had to bring my free hand up to hold it still so I could get my mouth round the head. That was about all that I could get in and any thought of him fucking my mouth was just downright impractical, so I released it and settled for using my tongue to lap at the greatly engorged head. That brought grunts of pleasure from him and it wasn’t long before a bead of pre-cum oozed from the slit at the head. That did it for me and I scooted up the bed and straddled him, easing his cock into my slick pussy carefully until he was implanted fully inside me. Despite his size it wasn’t difficult in the slightest and he slipped right inside me. The pussy is an accommodating creature and especially when it’s as excited as I was.
24-12-2015, 03:38 PM (This post was last modified: 24-12-2015, 03:38 PM by mech007.)
I rested the palms of my hands on his broad chest and bounced on his for a good long time, his hands reaching behind me to grip my ass. A few sharp thrusts brought me to my second orgasm of the encounter and when he shifted his hands to my hips and really started stabbing upwards and into me I had several more.
“Fuck me!” I screamed, “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
This vocal encouragement had him swing me off and under him. My legs flew open and now his BBC really went to work as he pounded me savagely. It put even Nitin’s best efforts to shame as he had me with my legs wide, with my legs on his shoulders, round his hips and flat down. With each position I had a different flavour of orgasm, all unbelievably good, but all seemingly arising from a different spot inside me that he was hitting. I screamed some more and he grunted and the pair of us were coated with sweat, but mostly his as he was doing most of the work. Luckily I’d already kicked the quilt away or we’d have cooked. As his orgasm eventually approached I felt him swell inside me and ripples run along that magnificent shaft. He ceased his vigorous assault on my poor hole and with three deep lunges and a loud roar erupted inside me. If I thought Nitin had been copious earlier Byron topped him considerably and his cum bubbled frothily from my cunt and gathered in a pool on the bed-sheets underneath my ass. He had me again twice that night and Nitin had me in the morning once Byron had left. I enjoyed my husband’s more relaxed approach the more because I’d now experienced the full fury of a BBC. It was nice but not for all the time, just for those special occasions when a girl really needs to take it hard, so I still see Byron for sex on the odd occasion. About once a month does me, when I’m feeling extra frisky. It suits Nitin too and he knows that when I ask him to invite Byron over for dinner he’s due to lose at poker.
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