My Neighbor- Ch. 10
A month had passed since I had told my husband, Steve, about my being ***** and impregnated by a Nigerian General at a social event held at a posh and very upscale resort, celebrating the success and achievements of our neighbor. Politically, the General, as he is known to me since I can’t pronounce his last name, is too powerful to touch, and as a Nigerian national, and military commander of some sort, the United States Government isn’t very interested in the plight of a white wife and a night of forced infidelity, even if it did result in an unwanted pregnancy.
Akoni had invented a medical device that would save lives world-wide and had been donating significant sums of money and expertise to the Nigerian national health program. For his good works, Nigerian dignitaries had gathered with others in the United States to celebrate him, as well as allow his ****** to benefit politically from this. Akoni’s son Juwon had his future set, if his potential NFL career didn’t pan-out, though he was already being scouted by several pro teams. Akoni’s wife, Akanni, had revealed to me the fact she was actually a mid-ranking Nigerian Princess of her tribe. What that meant was still a mystery, but then, right now my sole focus was on my husband and my marriage.
But I still had Juwon to contend with. Before I was black-***** and bred, I had been seeing him on the down low, giving myself to him two or three times per week, and often those were twice or even three times that dalliance. He had some serious testosterone, not to mention virility and stamina. The only man I had ever been with that could out-do him was the General. But that guy was a foot-long beast, with testicles the size of eggs. Nonetheless, now that I was pregnant, I let Juwon have me, while keeping him in the dark. But at night, especially the nights when I had not been with Juwon, my husband wasn’t being left out. I would speak dirty to him, telling him tales of my being plundered by black men. I would even name names. Juwon, Akoni, or even a co-worker of my husband’s. It never failed to increase my husband’s levels of intensity and arousal, even if the co-worker was a man he personally and professionally despised. Somehow the thought of Steve’s wife being desecrated by black men just sent him into orbit.
Per my husband’s direction, he had me begin the proper pre-natal care for the fetus growing inside me. All was well, until one morning this week, I woke up and had to run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. It was mostly dry-puking, but it was full, body-wracking attempts by my stomach to dispel whatever was in my stomach. A call to the doctor’s office confirmed that I was suffering from morning sickness. It was well-named. Gawd it was awful, and I felt nauseous most of the day. The next was an appointment with the doctor, and a blood test. But I had taken to bringing a bucket with me, so when the mood struck, I could just let it out. The doctor had some startling news.
“Believe it or not, Mrs. Recreant, I have always considered such a symptom to be an indicator that you are having a boy. Of course it will be some weeks before we can take an ultrasound to verify this, but we’ll know soon enough. Assuming that you want to, that is.”
I had to look at her squarely.
“Doctor, we are not entirely sure we are keeping the baby. The child is unwanted and is not from my husband. We are still deciding, though both of us are pro-life.”
The doctor leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms.
“I am glad to hear that. But since you have mentioned the possibility of terminating your pregnancy, I am obligated to provide you the following information.”
She then went on with a litany of information related to the positives and negatives of an abortion, the risks to my health, deadlines, and the like. She then dropped a bomb on me, telling me that if I chose that route, I would have to find another physician. She refused to do that kind of work, asking me to relate the circumstances of the pregnancy, and who the father was, if I knew.
When I told her, she frowned thoughtfully and looked at me directly.
“Mrs. Recreant, I am going to forget that we ever had this conversation. I am not going to report your being ***** by a black man, and I am not going to do anything to help you abort a black child. If you do decide to carry the child to term, then of course I would be only too happy to assist you. Now, I will be on my way. You may get dressed and see the nurse on the way out for your next appointment.”
As she left, it was then I put two and two together. She was probably pro-life like myself, but it was then I realized something that should have been a warning sign. My doctor is black. No wonder she wouldn’t help me by aborting a black child!
When I got home, my day got worse. Sitting down, there was a soft knock on the door. When I opened it, there was a young white man, looking well-kept in business-casual attire.
“Mrs. Recreant?”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Suzi Recreant?” he asked in affirmation.
“One and the same. What can I do for you?”
He then pulled out a small packet of papers and handed them to me. My fingers reached out to take them, and he spoke.
“You have been served with court papers to be in Superior court!”
Without another word, he spun on his heel and simply walked purposely away. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was obviously a process-server!
Reading the documents, I fell against the wall. I had to re-read them to be sure. Then I called my husband, and was forced to leave him a voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. You need to call me. Now!”
Then I texted Akanni.
“Need you ASAP!”
“B rt there.”
So less than 3 minutes after being served, I was sitting on the back patio of my home, and I had her reading the summons. She gasped.
“My Dear, is this for real?”
I nodded somberly.
“Yep. Somehow the General knows I am pregnant, and has now filed suit to force me to keep his child to term. On top of that, he has also been granted a temporary injunction effective immediately, to prevent me from having an abortion.”
She sighed and shook her head.
“Akoni is not home just yet. But when he returns, I shall see what I can find out for you. I know this is not much help, at least right now, but let me get to the bottom of this. But for now, try not to worry too much, Suzi. It is not good for you. Or the baby.”
She then rose and smiled thinly. She knew I was having a sudden rush of shit to the heart. This was going to affect me for the rest of my life, and we both knew it.
“Yeah, easy for you to say. What else should I do?”
She looked over her shoulder as she started away.
“Get an attorney.”
My husband almost exploded when he called. The fury in his voice was palpable, and I had to choose my wording carefully. But his directions to his wife were clear. Find the best damn attorney! So I spent the next three days making calls and searching the internet, among violent puking intervals, until I found an attorney who not only sounded like she knew what was going on, but also how to handle it. She gave me some reassurances, and gave me an appointment. I was early, to make sure, and we conversed for almost an hour. After signing a retainer agreement, giving a copy of the summons, and handing over a check for $5000, I had an attorney. I left there feeling the best I had in days. Until I puked on the sidewalk. I had left my bucket in the car. Shit.
So until the court hearing, I simply had to endure. The knowledge of having a black baby, my husband and Juwon still fucking me like crazy, and the agony of morning sickness. But one night soon after, while my husband was atop me, thrusting his dick in and out of me, I was licking his ear and breathing hotly, complimenting his prowess and how good he felt in me, when he spoke.
“I wanna’ watch.”
I looked at him, astonished as he never broke stride.
“I wanna’ watch.”
“Wait, what?”
“You. With a black cock.”
His pace was starting to pick up, as was his energy.
“You want to watch a black man fuck me? Plunge his big, hot, hard, thick black cock claim your wife’s pussy?”
“Yessss..” he hissed out.
“You want to watch him cum in me? Cum in me with his hot, virile, potent cum. Flooding my vagina with his black seed? My body shivering as he makes me cum on his cock?”
“YESSSSS!!!!” and he bellowed out as he slammed into me so hard that he jolted me into the headboard.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed, rubbing the top of my head.
He looked sheepish, with that stupid grin on his face as he was being sated, the tensions of his day being given to me in the form of his semen.
“Sorry, you just made it so much hotter.”
I said nothing and just held him, meanwhile my mind was going a thousand miles an hour. Was he serious? Could he handle it? Could I handle it? I mean, anymore than I was already handling it. What would happen to our marriage once it happened? Would my husband not want me anymore? Would he be humiliated when he realized his dick didn’t measure up to every black cock I knew personally? Did he want it to be a one-time thing? What if he didn’t? While I had feelings for Juwon, how would he feel about some other black man fucking me? Finally, my husband rose and fell to the bed on his side, looking at me as he caressed my body, a post-coitus ritual we both enjoyed.
“Honey? Are you… serious? I mean, was that just heat of the moment pillow-talk? I mean, I know my words make you all hot and bothered…”
He snorted.
“Yeah, just a bit. But... yeah, I think so. I want to watch you as a black man inserts his cock into you. I love how you react to me, but I want to watch it more to see all of you. To watch you respond. You are my absolute pride and joy, and I love you so very much.”
“Let me think on it. But in the meantime, just in case I decide to go through with it, start thinking about who. I also want to have a say in who he is. That is, if it happens.”
He nodded.
“Fair enough.”
We then spent the remainder of the night kissing and cuddling, until he fell asleep. For myself, I spent the next couple of hours playing different scenarios in my head, until I, too, passed into dreamland.
My husband and I had not talked about his watching me in bed with another man, a black one, for several days. In fact, I kind of thought that maybe it was the heat of the moment that spurred his thinking. Having given the matter some deep thought, I had considered the risks, and realized that I was already fucking a black man, my husband just didn’t know about it. If I could steer him towards liking the idea of Juwon having me in front of him, so much the better. I also had to admit to myself that the General’s words of warning were indeed quite true. I could not get the memory of his black cock in me, even if he was ****** me and making me black-pregnant in the process. He truly was the absolutely best fuck of my life.
When he came home from work, he set his computer case and coat on the table and smiled, collecting me in his arms as we kissed and generally said hello. At one point, his arms wrapped about me, he leaned back and said to me very plainly.
“It’s going to happen.”
“What is, Honey?”
“You and a black man. I talked with a friend of mine at work, and he said he has had his wife do it, and now it is a regular part of their marriage. Evidently she has a couple of guys she likes, and he brings in new ones from time to time. He said it brought them closer together. It has gotten them so deeply in love that he even agreed to have her stop all forms of birth control. So it is just a race, now, to see who gets her pregnant. But like us, they have decided that she will carry the baby to term, no matter what.”
I leaned back, myself, and looked up to him.
“Ummm… alright, I guess. I mean, if you really want it, I would do it to please you. But I need you to reassure me that you understand that this will forever change our marriage. I hope for the better, but no matter what, there will be a change.”
He looked at me, somberly, and nodded.
“I understand, and I still want you to do this. Maybe once, and then we will see. But it could become a regular thing. I trust you so very much, and love you even more. I think we will be able to not only survive this, but become a stronger couple.”
“What about the baby?”
I asked him, with a nod towards my barf-bucket, as we both now called it. Of course I was asking about the child growing inside me. I just didn’t know what or how to feel about that. I just wanted some form of assurance. I don’t think he understood how a man’s cock, especially a larger one, could control a woman. Or control me, at least. The General was never far from my mind. Well, his big, black cock at least.
“Well, right now, we don’t have a choice. Until the hearing, you must follow the restraining order. I talked with the attorney today and she said she had run out of maneuvers and ideas. So until the hearing, you are going to care for the unborn child. After that, when we will decide.”
I nodded to him. I could see he understood I was trapped, and through me, so was he.
“So back to this mystery date. Did you have a plan? Are you doing this? Or am I supposed to find some black guy and seduce him?”
“Well, I don’t want it to be someone we know. That could cause complications, so I want it to be a complete stranger. Somehow that makes it hotter. I was thinking maybe we go out to dinner and a club and see who we find?”
I had to admit, he had evidently thought this through. I was already juggling one black boyfriend, and definitely didn’t need another.
“Alright. So... when? What will be the ground rules for this?”
“I was thinking Saturday night. We’ll get dinner around 8:00, and then clubbing after. And if we strike out, well, we can see how each other feels about another try.”
Yep, he had definitely put some thought into this.
“And the rules?”
“Well, I would like to ask you don’t kiss him, but I know how hot you get in bed. So I will only ask that you try not to. Also, a condom, and he stays out of your ass. That is exclusively my territory.”
I winced in memory of the last time. I relished anyone’s cock up my ass like I relished mixing horseradish and grapes. I had no problem with the second rule, but the first? Well, we both knew it wasn’t likely to happen. Especially if I lose the ability to control my reactions, as I did with the General.
“Anything else?”
“No. I am going to stay out of the selection process. I want you to be comfortable with the guy, and I trust your instincts on this more than mine. Just know that I will be with you. He doesn’t get you alone. That rule is etched in stone. I am going to keep you safe, no matter what.”
That night I had crawled into bed and snuggled next to him, wearing a silky over-size crop-top and a lace thong, and he surprised me with a Sex DVD.. We had very occasionally watched one, when trying to spice up a ho-hum moment. This one was all interracial, all the time. Big black cocks, and tiny white girls. Soon, he was molesting me in much the same way as we saw on TV.
“So you like this, huh? Black hands all, over you? Feeling you up? Reaching under your dress and into your panties and molesting your vagina as you stood there on the dance floor, unable to stop him? His body moving against yours, his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him as you feel his hard black cock pushing against your crotch… Your thin panties growing wet as you are failing to resist him. He is seducing you right in front of me, as I stand there and watch him, the look in your eyes already gone as he takes what he wants. Bending you over in front of the crowd and exposing his big, black cock, and then feeding it into you, making you bolt upright as he tickles your insides.”
I had to admit, he was not bad at all in his narration as his fingers had delved into my panties, and my blue eyes struggled to watch the action on the screen as my mind’s eye began to take over. My petite white body, stripped in front of a hoard of black men. All of them with big cocks and hungry eyes. All of them watching me as I am taken right then and there, helpless to do anything but react naturally, the hard, hot, throbbing black cock thrusting into me, making me his slut of the moment, knowing he would be but the first as the dozens of men had me, right in front of my husband.
It was enough to make me lose control, and I shuddered on his palm, my tongue sticking out, waggling in the air.
“Black men from all over pull you onto them, shoving their black pricks into you, until they cum in you again and again, until their ejaculation just leaks onto the dance floor…”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Turn me into a black cock slut!” I cried out.
He then mounted me with some disappointment. I realized his cock was smaller than those on TV. He had to work at it, but he did manage to give me a smaller orgasm near the end, before he lost all control and tried to fuck his own baby into my black-pregnant womb. As he released himself in me, he lay upon my body, and we caressed and shared small kisses, my eyes looking in adoration at him.
“I love you, Steve.”
My voice was full of heart and sincerity. I truly loved my husband. I was just finding out that I could love more than one thing. Black cock was very high on my list, and the feelings I had for Juwon, well, they were growing. We had gone from just raw, hard fucking to making love. As I lay under my husband, I would lay under Juwon, both of us afraid to speak, knowing that those words could never come true. To say it would break our hearts.
“I love you to, Suzi.”
Soon it was the night. Saturday night. My husband wanted me to wear that same satin dress and cape outfit I had worn to the resort, but there was no way in this universe I was going to let myself get caught out like that again. While it was oh so very arousing to be left defenseless and exposed as I had been, the risks of having it happen in so public of a place was not comforting. So I had a rare opportunity to go shopping and buy something without my husband griping about how much I spent!
All-in-all, I spent less than the dress had cost Akanni. I found a great black pussy-bow satin blouse that fully covered me from the high neck to the hem that my short black satin miniskirt crossed over nicely. With flared trumpet sleeves over long buttons cuffs made sure that my blouse wasn’t coming off without my assistance. My skirt, however, was short enough that I had to use care when turning or getting in or out of Steve’s car. The hem was just an inch or two below my ass, and if I soft breeze even looked in my general direction, the thin, silky satin would lift higher than my hips as it billowed up. The curse of a high-waisted skirt lives on. My 4-inch red stilettos gave me the added height I needed to be able to see eye-to-eye, or more like eye-to-neck with most men.
Dinner was nice, and we had a great meal, though I caught my husband working hard to keep his wine glass full. He wanted to be loose for the event to come. I would have thought it would work the other way, but in his mind, the more open he was, the easier it was, I guess? Well, he was getting pretty loose! I was even considering asking to drive, despite the fact I had left my purse behind. We left dinner, with me on his arm, and I intentionally let my hips sway a little more, giving that teasing skirt flip to any of the guys looking at me. I could be such a tease!
We got to one club, and the line was clear around the block. We looked at each other and said ‘Nope’ and looked for another. Then another. Then another. Why were so many people going out tonight? The problem was the farther and farther out we searched, the worse and worse the neighborhoods become. Soon we started seeing the denizens of the city. Homeless men, hookers, pimps, and drug dealers. Not to mention drug users lying about, high as a kite.
“Honey, maybe this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to even get out of the car down here.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not. But I have an idea.”
Soon we were at the valet parking of a very nice hotel. The way both of us were dressed, we looked like we fit right in, though my red patent-leather ‘fuck-me’ heels were screaming loudly my intentions.
“Go on to the bar, and see what is going on.” Steve began. “I’ll check us in.”
I looked at him, with a questioning look. This was not in the plan and I doubted I would find many black guys here. This place was obviously super-expensive. My husband and I might be able to afford a night or two here if we were splurging, but I doubted we could afford a week here.
“Go on... Git…” He chided me.
So shrugging, I did as he told me. I made my way to the bar, which had a DJ and was playing club-type music, and there were a fair number of people here. Stepping inside, the club had red and black lighting, and couches and overstuffed chairs everywhere. An entire wall was the bar, and cocktail waitresses wearing tiny dresses with skirts even shorter than mine were working the room pretty efficiently.
I took a seat, leaning back in a loveseat and crossed my legs at the knees and my foot bouncing in time with the beat. Hands folded at my waist, I felt the hem of my skirt fall from my thigh to my waist, and I realized I was showing a LOT of leg.I contemplated shifting and preventing this, but then I remembered why we were here. So I looked around and in about five minutes, the first drink showed up. White wine. Someone was making his play. Another minute went by, and a fruity-looking drink arrived, and now I was asking the waitress who was who. She pointed out both gentlemen, and I nodded, and tried to spy each one. It was harder than I thought, but I eventually found them in the darkness of the club.
Both men were wearing business suits. One was a balding white guy, who looked to be struggling with his waistline. The other had, and I was shocked to see this, an actual mullet. He was also tiny as men go, and I doubted we would see eye-to-eye, more likely nose-to-nipple on me. So I left both drinks untouched and didn’t give either of them another thought. Before much more time expired, the waitress returned, and she leaned down to my ear.
“I am to deliver a message to you. The gentleman noticed you are not drinking, and wished to know what drink you would prefer? He said he desired to be a proper host for you.”
I looked up, leaning aside in astonishment, and she merely stood up and nodded. I took a quick glance about, and my husband was either invisible or he had not yet arrived. So I shrugged and thought ‘why not?’.
“Soda with a twist, please? I need to keep a clear head about me tonight.”
The waitress got the meaning of my message perfectly clearly, and in what seemed like seconds, the drink arrived, along with another whisper in my ear.
“The gentleman was impressed and will ask you to dance shortly. Now, it is our policy in the bar. If you need help, or need this guy to get away from you, ask me for an ‘Angel Shot’ and we will help you. If you feel you are in real trouble, ask for an ‘Angel Shot Rocks’. That will bring all sorts of security here. I promise you that no matter how ugly it winds up looking, we will keep you safe. If you can’t get to us for an order, just look at any one of us with both fists closed. All of us will be keeping an eye on you. You are the only unescorted lady in here, and we look after our lady guests.”
I was incredibly impressed. Now I knew why a place like this must cost a fortune. Trained staff like this must be well-paid. I had to admit, it made me more comfortable, and I relaxed a bit, though I was wondering where my husband was. Soon that wonder was interrupted as it got even darker, as a man came up from behind me. He seemed big enough to blot out the Sun. A hand lowered to my side, and I realized it was my gentleman caller. Looking up, I smiled, and left my seemingly tiny hand daintily in his as he assisted me to my feet and then to the dance floor. In the darkness and flashing lights, it was difficult to really see anything identifying him, other than his skin was dark.
There was no mistaking it. I couldn’t tell if he was Black, Arab, or Hispanic, but he was not a white guy! He was also a pretty good dancer. Holding my hand in his, he moved me, and led me quite well. My heels were really moving as he stepped to me and back, pulling me to him and back. I was able to breathe in his scent, a musk that was very pleasing to me, and I am sure he got a whiff or three of my vanilla-citrus perfume. I did steal a few glances out towards the bar, looking for my husband, but I was unable to see him. I just figured he was out in the darkness somewhere, eyeballing me. But I felt no danger from this man. He exuded masculinity, and grace, and the self-assuredness of a man who knew what he wanted.
He would spin me, holding onto my fingers, to let me spin out, the hem of my skirt flying to my waist, and exposing my tiny thong to the crowds, and then spinning back, until I was face to face to him, my eyes looking up as he looked down. The music was heavy, it was loud, and it was fast. We danced with such an intensity for about 15 minutes, before the DJ slowed things down. Way down. But instead of walking me off the stage, he pulled me to him, and I felt both hands rest on the upper curve of my butt as I was drawn into him. I laid my hands on his shoulders, and my head on his chest, as we swayed back and forth. He was quite the gentleman during this, and I was really attracted to him. I decided he would be the one, and I think he knew he had me, too.
We kissed on the dance floor, a tentative first kiss, followed by a longer, smoldering meshing of tongues, where I suckled his into my mouth, and licked it as our lips broke the seal, the lewdness of our kiss lost in the darkness. But it felt so hot, and so, so right in that moment. I purred into his mouth as we kissed some more, and I felt his hands start to reach under my miniskirt and feel the bare flesh of my ass, strong hands groping me, pulling my soft skin towards him, as he hefted me off my heels, my arms wrapping around his neck as I kissed him more hotly. It had taken him only 20 or 25 minutes to seduce me. After a few more minutes, our kissing broke down as the DJ began to revive the room, and he sat me down on my heels and took my hand in his, interlacing his thick fingers with my thin, dainty ones. I felt like a child in his grasp, and I let him lead me away. I never did see my husband, and still had no idea where he was. For that matter, I also had no idea where I was going, but a look from one of the waitresses made me give a thumbs up. No Angels needed tonight!
We didn’t speak, and I had to quick-step as he led me to the elevator. My heels click-clacked on the polished marble floor, the mirrored polishing so flawless that to see up my skirt, one only had to look down. It was then I realized he was black. Not Juwon-black, but pretty dark, indeed. He stepped into a glass elevator and pushed a button up to the sixth floor. He held me from behind, looking out as he whispered in my ear.
“No names, no personal information. Tonight is just the two of us, making passionate love.”
Then he nibbled at my neck, and up to my ear lobe, making me mew. My eyes fallen into slits as he further seduced me, I was able to get a single glimpse of my husband, who was coming down the other glass elevator, across from us! We were both nearing the sixth floor, us going up, and Steve going down. I doubted he would be able to catch up, and right then, I couldn’t do anything about it. My paramour had about 12 inches and maybe 150 lbs on me. From here on, I wasn’t going to get an Angel Shot, but I was going to be taken to heaven on a big, black cock! I wondered if my husband had seen me?
His room was not far down the hall, and as we reached the door, he handed the key to me and told me to stand still. I felt him reach under my circle skirt and draw my panties down, until they fell at my ankles.
“Step out or trip, Bitch.” It wasn’t a request.
In hopes of leaving my husband a sign, I gingerly stepped out as best I could, while his dark hands were roving over my body, seemingly everywhere at once. He then began to dry-hump me as I tried to open the door, but his jolting made inserting the key difficult. I couldn’t help giggling as he did this, as it was a fun challenge, but he was growing more intense.
“I’m gonna’ fuck you in the hallway if you can’t get this door open, Slut!”
His name-calling and vulgarity was turning me on, for some reason, and driving my emotions into a more submissive place. We both knew he was going to impale me on his black cock, but now the race was for where and when. With nothing to protect me from his sexual onslaught except for his pants, I was racing the clock. I heard his zipper drawing down as he paused and that was the moment I needed and as the door opened, he thrust me so hard I was lifted off of my feet, and bumped into his room. He grabbed me and twirled me around to face him, and grabbed me by the butt and elevated my feet off the floor as he kissed me, long, lewd and lascivious. It was searing hot, and I was getting so into him.
He held me in the air, as he kicked off his shoes and then walked into the room, dumping me on the bed with a heavy bounce. My skirt flared above my waist and I ended sitting on the bed, leaning back on my elbows, with my skirt flared sexily about me, and my knees splayed on my heels. I watched him as he damn-near ripped his clothes off, and then began to move onto the bed with me, crawling onto the bed with one knee and the other already between my legs. I looked at his crotch, his one hand stroking and shaking his cock, the size impressive. Bigger than Juwon, but not even close to The General’s territory. Still, he had a formidable weapon and He was going to use it in me. I leaned back, and drew my skirt up to my stomach, adjusting my head so my hair was flared out over my head, and I lifted my knees, to allow him full access to my body. That was when he started slapping my petals with his cock.
I uttered a series of mewing sounds with each blow, and I could feel my body getting even hotter. I didn’t know his name, or where he was from, only that I was really attracted to him, and I wasn’t even thinking about birth control. The fact I was already pregnant probably entered into this, but if I wasn’t, I probably wouldn't have in any event. This was pure animal mating between a white wife and an unknown black man. He must’ve grown satisfied with slapping my pearl as he then was sliding the thick head of his cock up and down my slit, where my mewlings became moans. I felt my petals part, and my slickness was coating him as he began to tease my opening. My chest rising and falling faster, I was making those sounds of desire, even need.
“Please... You’re torturing me. Stick your cock in me. Fuck this white wife with your big, black cock. Cum in me… give me your black bastard baby!”
That was all the encouragement he needed, and he began to prod at my opening and push for real. My voice cried out, a familiar mix of stress and pleasure as I was being forced to accommodate him, and he then added a second thrust, where my voice repeated my cry. Twice more, and he was now a few inches inside me, when We both heard heavy banging on the door.
“Suzi? Is that you?”
I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t. He simply controlled my voice by two more rapid thrust, my voice loudly moaning each time.
“Who is that?” my lover demanded.
“My… my husband…” I admitted between gasps.
Then he silenced my words by making me cry out, as my husband beat on the door.
“Tough shit for him. You’re my bitch, now!”
To punctuate his words, he began a series of hard, driving thrusts, to make me feel every fraction of an inch as his cock pile-drove deeper and deeper into me, giving me a fullness I had not felt since that night at the resort. It felt delicious, in a way, and I felt like a complete woman as I took every inch of his ebony spear, feeling his public bone grinding on my pearl. I couldn’t find a way to speak coherently, as there was a final series of bangs on the door. I just moaned loudly as he began to cycle his hips, and mate with me.
I didn’t hear any more of my husband, only his breathing and grunts, coupled with my own whining moans as he sent blast after blast pleasure through my nervous system, my pearl, my pussy and my labia all screaming at me how good this felt. I began to beg him.
“Fuck me! Fuck this married pussy! Stick your black cock in me and cum in me. Fill me with your black seed and fuck your black baby into my white married womb!”
He wasn’t just good, he was spectacular. My tongue was waggling in the air, eager to kiss him, as a final expression of how amazing he was making me feel, when he hit something in me, something even the General missed, and I suddenly flexed every muscle in my body, my toes curled and my legs high in the air, with my arms splayed and locked over my head. My mind went blank and I think I may have even passed out for a moment, because my next memory was his hips thrusting harder and faster, my voice wailing in time with his thrusts. He was growing harsh and he grabbed hold of my jostling breasts, hard, leaving a constellation of bruises where his finger pads had held me. He wasn’t making love and he wasn’t even being passionate. This was a simply hard, raw, rough fuck between the two of us. I was sating his need, and I was getting a screaming orgasm out of it, which came soon after.
I felt it arriving with the subtlety of a freight train and I screamed as it hit, shuddering violently, clutching onto the bedding as best I could, as he bellowed out his own climax, and his balls began to fill my pussy with his essence. I gasped for air under him, my legs falling down on the bed, his knees between my thighs as the door opened. We both looked over and it was a security man, with my husband right behind him.
“I... uhh... Well... Ma’am… I need to know if… you are… ummm... Okay, I guess?”
The security guard must’ve been all of 21, maybe, skinny as a rail and still had acne. It was comical. Here I was, flat on my back, legs apart, a naked black man resting atop me on his elbows, his cock flexing inside me as he was pumping more of his hot, sticky jism as my vagina was quivering on his black warrior, coaxing him to spurt every precious drop of his African seed into me. I had just experienced an orgasm better than any my husband ever gave me, and he was asking if I was okay? I broke out laughing.
“Oh, I am more than okay, dude. I’m doing great!”
My black lover similarly started laughing, and the guard kinda’ got the mirth and was smiling as he shrugged and turned to leave.
“Sorry to disturb you folks.”
That left my husband standing there, looking a mix of upset and forlorn.
“Suz-“
I shushed him.
“Honey, no names. He doesn’t know mine and I don’t know his. It is better this way.”
My lover looked to me and planted a big, soft, lewd kiss on my mouth, his thick lips sucking my bottom one into his, pulling on my face slowly as my head lifted to follow him. I couldn’t help but purr.
My husband stood there for a moment, flummoxed, and he began to speak again.
“Listen, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
My Lover began to follow the conversation with his head.
“I know... but you took so long! He found me, and he just… well... seduced me into his bed. What was I supposed to do?”
My husband stood there for along moment, trying to figure out what to say, I guess, and my Lover took the moment to give me a last thrust and flex of his cock inside me as he was starting to soften. He planted another kiss, licking my lips with his tongue as my tongue then came out to wrestle with his. I looked up to him after, and had to compliment him.
“You are magnificent, you know that?”
“And you are now pregnant.” Was his sharp retort.
“I know…” I figured why deny him his heroic moment.
My Lover then rose, and I felt his soft cock slide from me, along tendril of our combined love juices finally snapping and landing on the bed.
My husband just looked between us, and as my Lover stood next to him, he leaned over and spoke quietly, but loud enough to be heard.
“Listen, if you want me to show you how to fuck your wife, gimme thirty-minutes or so, and you can watch while I made fucking sure she’s got my black bastard in her.”
I was somewhat shocked at so brazen a taunt.
“I’m gonna’ grab a shower. If you’re still here when I come out, then get ready to get fucked so hard you pass-out.”
With that, he gave my husband a slap on the shoulder and closed the bathroom door behind him.
I looked at my husband, as I wanted him to decide on this. Would I go another round with this guy? Hell yes! But it would have to be my husband’s choice.
My husband decided, alright, and he reached for my wrist and damn-near dragged me off the bed.
“Let’s get the fuck outta’ here!”
“Wait... I need my panties!” and I started to search around the doorway.
“Put these on.” He nearly barked as he threw them at me. They were how he found me.
I was having to hurry after him, pulling my panties up under my skirt as he walked off down the hallway. I could tell he was pissed. I couldn’t blame him, though, because, in a way, I had betrayed him. Now would be the test whether my husband would be able to cope with being a cuckold.
A month had passed since I had told my husband, Steve, about my being ***** and impregnated by a Nigerian General at a social event held at a posh and very upscale resort, celebrating the success and achievements of our neighbor. Politically, the General, as he is known to me since I can’t pronounce his last name, is too powerful to touch, and as a Nigerian national, and military commander of some sort, the United States Government isn’t very interested in the plight of a white wife and a night of forced infidelity, even if it did result in an unwanted pregnancy.
Akoni had invented a medical device that would save lives world-wide and had been donating significant sums of money and expertise to the Nigerian national health program. For his good works, Nigerian dignitaries had gathered with others in the United States to celebrate him, as well as allow his ****** to benefit politically from this. Akoni’s son Juwon had his future set, if his potential NFL career didn’t pan-out, though he was already being scouted by several pro teams. Akoni’s wife, Akanni, had revealed to me the fact she was actually a mid-ranking Nigerian Princess of her tribe. What that meant was still a mystery, but then, right now my sole focus was on my husband and my marriage.
But I still had Juwon to contend with. Before I was black-***** and bred, I had been seeing him on the down low, giving myself to him two or three times per week, and often those were twice or even three times that dalliance. He had some serious testosterone, not to mention virility and stamina. The only man I had ever been with that could out-do him was the General. But that guy was a foot-long beast, with testicles the size of eggs. Nonetheless, now that I was pregnant, I let Juwon have me, while keeping him in the dark. But at night, especially the nights when I had not been with Juwon, my husband wasn’t being left out. I would speak dirty to him, telling him tales of my being plundered by black men. I would even name names. Juwon, Akoni, or even a co-worker of my husband’s. It never failed to increase my husband’s levels of intensity and arousal, even if the co-worker was a man he personally and professionally despised. Somehow the thought of Steve’s wife being desecrated by black men just sent him into orbit.
Per my husband’s direction, he had me begin the proper pre-natal care for the fetus growing inside me. All was well, until one morning this week, I woke up and had to run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. It was mostly dry-puking, but it was full, body-wracking attempts by my stomach to dispel whatever was in my stomach. A call to the doctor’s office confirmed that I was suffering from morning sickness. It was well-named. Gawd it was awful, and I felt nauseous most of the day. The next was an appointment with the doctor, and a blood test. But I had taken to bringing a bucket with me, so when the mood struck, I could just let it out. The doctor had some startling news.
“Believe it or not, Mrs. Recreant, I have always considered such a symptom to be an indicator that you are having a boy. Of course it will be some weeks before we can take an ultrasound to verify this, but we’ll know soon enough. Assuming that you want to, that is.”
I had to look at her squarely.
“Doctor, we are not entirely sure we are keeping the baby. The child is unwanted and is not from my husband. We are still deciding, though both of us are pro-life.”
The doctor leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms.
“I am glad to hear that. But since you have mentioned the possibility of terminating your pregnancy, I am obligated to provide you the following information.”
She then went on with a litany of information related to the positives and negatives of an abortion, the risks to my health, deadlines, and the like. She then dropped a bomb on me, telling me that if I chose that route, I would have to find another physician. She refused to do that kind of work, asking me to relate the circumstances of the pregnancy, and who the father was, if I knew.
When I told her, she frowned thoughtfully and looked at me directly.
“Mrs. Recreant, I am going to forget that we ever had this conversation. I am not going to report your being ***** by a black man, and I am not going to do anything to help you abort a black child. If you do decide to carry the child to term, then of course I would be only too happy to assist you. Now, I will be on my way. You may get dressed and see the nurse on the way out for your next appointment.”
As she left, it was then I put two and two together. She was probably pro-life like myself, but it was then I realized something that should have been a warning sign. My doctor is black. No wonder she wouldn’t help me by aborting a black child!
When I got home, my day got worse. Sitting down, there was a soft knock on the door. When I opened it, there was a young white man, looking well-kept in business-casual attire.
“Mrs. Recreant?”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Suzi Recreant?” he asked in affirmation.
“One and the same. What can I do for you?”
He then pulled out a small packet of papers and handed them to me. My fingers reached out to take them, and he spoke.
“You have been served with court papers to be in Superior court!”
Without another word, he spun on his heel and simply walked purposely away. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was obviously a process-server!
Reading the documents, I fell against the wall. I had to re-read them to be sure. Then I called my husband, and was forced to leave him a voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. You need to call me. Now!”
Then I texted Akanni.
“Need you ASAP!”
“B rt there.”
So less than 3 minutes after being served, I was sitting on the back patio of my home, and I had her reading the summons. She gasped.
“My Dear, is this for real?”
I nodded somberly.
“Yep. Somehow the General knows I am pregnant, and has now filed suit to force me to keep his child to term. On top of that, he has also been granted a temporary injunction effective immediately, to prevent me from having an abortion.”
She sighed and shook her head.
“Akoni is not home just yet. But when he returns, I shall see what I can find out for you. I know this is not much help, at least right now, but let me get to the bottom of this. But for now, try not to worry too much, Suzi. It is not good for you. Or the baby.”
She then rose and smiled thinly. She knew I was having a sudden rush of shit to the heart. This was going to affect me for the rest of my life, and we both knew it.
“Yeah, easy for you to say. What else should I do?”
She looked over her shoulder as she started away.
“Get an attorney.”
My husband almost exploded when he called. The fury in his voice was palpable, and I had to choose my wording carefully. But his directions to his wife were clear. Find the best damn attorney! So I spent the next three days making calls and searching the internet, among violent puking intervals, until I found an attorney who not only sounded like she knew what was going on, but also how to handle it. She gave me some reassurances, and gave me an appointment. I was early, to make sure, and we conversed for almost an hour. After signing a retainer agreement, giving a copy of the summons, and handing over a check for $5000, I had an attorney. I left there feeling the best I had in days. Until I puked on the sidewalk. I had left my bucket in the car. Shit.
So until the court hearing, I simply had to endure. The knowledge of having a black baby, my husband and Juwon still fucking me like crazy, and the agony of morning sickness. But one night soon after, while my husband was atop me, thrusting his dick in and out of me, I was licking his ear and breathing hotly, complimenting his prowess and how good he felt in me, when he spoke.
“I wanna’ watch.”
I looked at him, astonished as he never broke stride.
“I wanna’ watch.”
“Wait, what?”
“You. With a black cock.”
His pace was starting to pick up, as was his energy.
“You want to watch a black man fuck me? Plunge his big, hot, hard, thick black cock claim your wife’s pussy?”
“Yessss..” he hissed out.
“You want to watch him cum in me? Cum in me with his hot, virile, potent cum. Flooding my vagina with his black seed? My body shivering as he makes me cum on his cock?”
“YESSSSS!!!!” and he bellowed out as he slammed into me so hard that he jolted me into the headboard.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed, rubbing the top of my head.
He looked sheepish, with that stupid grin on his face as he was being sated, the tensions of his day being given to me in the form of his semen.
“Sorry, you just made it so much hotter.”
I said nothing and just held him, meanwhile my mind was going a thousand miles an hour. Was he serious? Could he handle it? Could I handle it? I mean, anymore than I was already handling it. What would happen to our marriage once it happened? Would my husband not want me anymore? Would he be humiliated when he realized his dick didn’t measure up to every black cock I knew personally? Did he want it to be a one-time thing? What if he didn’t? While I had feelings for Juwon, how would he feel about some other black man fucking me? Finally, my husband rose and fell to the bed on his side, looking at me as he caressed my body, a post-coitus ritual we both enjoyed.
“Honey? Are you… serious? I mean, was that just heat of the moment pillow-talk? I mean, I know my words make you all hot and bothered…”
He snorted.
“Yeah, just a bit. But... yeah, I think so. I want to watch you as a black man inserts his cock into you. I love how you react to me, but I want to watch it more to see all of you. To watch you respond. You are my absolute pride and joy, and I love you so very much.”
“Let me think on it. But in the meantime, just in case I decide to go through with it, start thinking about who. I also want to have a say in who he is. That is, if it happens.”
He nodded.
“Fair enough.”
We then spent the remainder of the night kissing and cuddling, until he fell asleep. For myself, I spent the next couple of hours playing different scenarios in my head, until I, too, passed into dreamland.
My husband and I had not talked about his watching me in bed with another man, a black one, for several days. In fact, I kind of thought that maybe it was the heat of the moment that spurred his thinking. Having given the matter some deep thought, I had considered the risks, and realized that I was already fucking a black man, my husband just didn’t know about it. If I could steer him towards liking the idea of Juwon having me in front of him, so much the better. I also had to admit to myself that the General’s words of warning were indeed quite true. I could not get the memory of his black cock in me, even if he was ****** me and making me black-pregnant in the process. He truly was the absolutely best fuck of my life.
When he came home from work, he set his computer case and coat on the table and smiled, collecting me in his arms as we kissed and generally said hello. At one point, his arms wrapped about me, he leaned back and said to me very plainly.
“It’s going to happen.”
“What is, Honey?”
“You and a black man. I talked with a friend of mine at work, and he said he has had his wife do it, and now it is a regular part of their marriage. Evidently she has a couple of guys she likes, and he brings in new ones from time to time. He said it brought them closer together. It has gotten them so deeply in love that he even agreed to have her stop all forms of birth control. So it is just a race, now, to see who gets her pregnant. But like us, they have decided that she will carry the baby to term, no matter what.”
I leaned back, myself, and looked up to him.
“Ummm… alright, I guess. I mean, if you really want it, I would do it to please you. But I need you to reassure me that you understand that this will forever change our marriage. I hope for the better, but no matter what, there will be a change.”
He looked at me, somberly, and nodded.
“I understand, and I still want you to do this. Maybe once, and then we will see. But it could become a regular thing. I trust you so very much, and love you even more. I think we will be able to not only survive this, but become a stronger couple.”
“What about the baby?”
I asked him, with a nod towards my barf-bucket, as we both now called it. Of course I was asking about the child growing inside me. I just didn’t know what or how to feel about that. I just wanted some form of assurance. I don’t think he understood how a man’s cock, especially a larger one, could control a woman. Or control me, at least. The General was never far from my mind. Well, his big, black cock at least.
“Well, right now, we don’t have a choice. Until the hearing, you must follow the restraining order. I talked with the attorney today and she said she had run out of maneuvers and ideas. So until the hearing, you are going to care for the unborn child. After that, when we will decide.”
I nodded to him. I could see he understood I was trapped, and through me, so was he.
“So back to this mystery date. Did you have a plan? Are you doing this? Or am I supposed to find some black guy and seduce him?”
“Well, I don’t want it to be someone we know. That could cause complications, so I want it to be a complete stranger. Somehow that makes it hotter. I was thinking maybe we go out to dinner and a club and see who we find?”
I had to admit, he had evidently thought this through. I was already juggling one black boyfriend, and definitely didn’t need another.
“Alright. So... when? What will be the ground rules for this?”
“I was thinking Saturday night. We’ll get dinner around 8:00, and then clubbing after. And if we strike out, well, we can see how each other feels about another try.”
Yep, he had definitely put some thought into this.
“And the rules?”
“Well, I would like to ask you don’t kiss him, but I know how hot you get in bed. So I will only ask that you try not to. Also, a condom, and he stays out of your ass. That is exclusively my territory.”
I winced in memory of the last time. I relished anyone’s cock up my ass like I relished mixing horseradish and grapes. I had no problem with the second rule, but the first? Well, we both knew it wasn’t likely to happen. Especially if I lose the ability to control my reactions, as I did with the General.
“Anything else?”
“No. I am going to stay out of the selection process. I want you to be comfortable with the guy, and I trust your instincts on this more than mine. Just know that I will be with you. He doesn’t get you alone. That rule is etched in stone. I am going to keep you safe, no matter what.”
That night I had crawled into bed and snuggled next to him, wearing a silky over-size crop-top and a lace thong, and he surprised me with a Sex DVD.. We had very occasionally watched one, when trying to spice up a ho-hum moment. This one was all interracial, all the time. Big black cocks, and tiny white girls. Soon, he was molesting me in much the same way as we saw on TV.
“So you like this, huh? Black hands all, over you? Feeling you up? Reaching under your dress and into your panties and molesting your vagina as you stood there on the dance floor, unable to stop him? His body moving against yours, his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him as you feel his hard black cock pushing against your crotch… Your thin panties growing wet as you are failing to resist him. He is seducing you right in front of me, as I stand there and watch him, the look in your eyes already gone as he takes what he wants. Bending you over in front of the crowd and exposing his big, black cock, and then feeding it into you, making you bolt upright as he tickles your insides.”
I had to admit, he was not bad at all in his narration as his fingers had delved into my panties, and my blue eyes struggled to watch the action on the screen as my mind’s eye began to take over. My petite white body, stripped in front of a hoard of black men. All of them with big cocks and hungry eyes. All of them watching me as I am taken right then and there, helpless to do anything but react naturally, the hard, hot, throbbing black cock thrusting into me, making me his slut of the moment, knowing he would be but the first as the dozens of men had me, right in front of my husband.
It was enough to make me lose control, and I shuddered on his palm, my tongue sticking out, waggling in the air.
“Black men from all over pull you onto them, shoving their black pricks into you, until they cum in you again and again, until their ejaculation just leaks onto the dance floor…”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Turn me into a black cock slut!” I cried out.
He then mounted me with some disappointment. I realized his cock was smaller than those on TV. He had to work at it, but he did manage to give me a smaller orgasm near the end, before he lost all control and tried to fuck his own baby into my black-pregnant womb. As he released himself in me, he lay upon my body, and we caressed and shared small kisses, my eyes looking in adoration at him.
“I love you, Steve.”
My voice was full of heart and sincerity. I truly loved my husband. I was just finding out that I could love more than one thing. Black cock was very high on my list, and the feelings I had for Juwon, well, they were growing. We had gone from just raw, hard fucking to making love. As I lay under my husband, I would lay under Juwon, both of us afraid to speak, knowing that those words could never come true. To say it would break our hearts.
“I love you to, Suzi.”
Soon it was the night. Saturday night. My husband wanted me to wear that same satin dress and cape outfit I had worn to the resort, but there was no way in this universe I was going to let myself get caught out like that again. While it was oh so very arousing to be left defenseless and exposed as I had been, the risks of having it happen in so public of a place was not comforting. So I had a rare opportunity to go shopping and buy something without my husband griping about how much I spent!
All-in-all, I spent less than the dress had cost Akanni. I found a great black pussy-bow satin blouse that fully covered me from the high neck to the hem that my short black satin miniskirt crossed over nicely. With flared trumpet sleeves over long buttons cuffs made sure that my blouse wasn’t coming off without my assistance. My skirt, however, was short enough that I had to use care when turning or getting in or out of Steve’s car. The hem was just an inch or two below my ass, and if I soft breeze even looked in my general direction, the thin, silky satin would lift higher than my hips as it billowed up. The curse of a high-waisted skirt lives on. My 4-inch red stilettos gave me the added height I needed to be able to see eye-to-eye, or more like eye-to-neck with most men.
Dinner was nice, and we had a great meal, though I caught my husband working hard to keep his wine glass full. He wanted to be loose for the event to come. I would have thought it would work the other way, but in his mind, the more open he was, the easier it was, I guess? Well, he was getting pretty loose! I was even considering asking to drive, despite the fact I had left my purse behind. We left dinner, with me on his arm, and I intentionally let my hips sway a little more, giving that teasing skirt flip to any of the guys looking at me. I could be such a tease!
We got to one club, and the line was clear around the block. We looked at each other and said ‘Nope’ and looked for another. Then another. Then another. Why were so many people going out tonight? The problem was the farther and farther out we searched, the worse and worse the neighborhoods become. Soon we started seeing the denizens of the city. Homeless men, hookers, pimps, and drug dealers. Not to mention drug users lying about, high as a kite.
“Honey, maybe this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to even get out of the car down here.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not. But I have an idea.”
Soon we were at the valet parking of a very nice hotel. The way both of us were dressed, we looked like we fit right in, though my red patent-leather ‘fuck-me’ heels were screaming loudly my intentions.
“Go on to the bar, and see what is going on.” Steve began. “I’ll check us in.”
I looked at him, with a questioning look. This was not in the plan and I doubted I would find many black guys here. This place was obviously super-expensive. My husband and I might be able to afford a night or two here if we were splurging, but I doubted we could afford a week here.
“Go on... Git…” He chided me.
So shrugging, I did as he told me. I made my way to the bar, which had a DJ and was playing club-type music, and there were a fair number of people here. Stepping inside, the club had red and black lighting, and couches and overstuffed chairs everywhere. An entire wall was the bar, and cocktail waitresses wearing tiny dresses with skirts even shorter than mine were working the room pretty efficiently.
I took a seat, leaning back in a loveseat and crossed my legs at the knees and my foot bouncing in time with the beat. Hands folded at my waist, I felt the hem of my skirt fall from my thigh to my waist, and I realized I was showing a LOT of leg.I contemplated shifting and preventing this, but then I remembered why we were here. So I looked around and in about five minutes, the first drink showed up. White wine. Someone was making his play. Another minute went by, and a fruity-looking drink arrived, and now I was asking the waitress who was who. She pointed out both gentlemen, and I nodded, and tried to spy each one. It was harder than I thought, but I eventually found them in the darkness of the club.
Both men were wearing business suits. One was a balding white guy, who looked to be struggling with his waistline. The other had, and I was shocked to see this, an actual mullet. He was also tiny as men go, and I doubted we would see eye-to-eye, more likely nose-to-nipple on me. So I left both drinks untouched and didn’t give either of them another thought. Before much more time expired, the waitress returned, and she leaned down to my ear.
“I am to deliver a message to you. The gentleman noticed you are not drinking, and wished to know what drink you would prefer? He said he desired to be a proper host for you.”
I looked up, leaning aside in astonishment, and she merely stood up and nodded. I took a quick glance about, and my husband was either invisible or he had not yet arrived. So I shrugged and thought ‘why not?’.
“Soda with a twist, please? I need to keep a clear head about me tonight.”
The waitress got the meaning of my message perfectly clearly, and in what seemed like seconds, the drink arrived, along with another whisper in my ear.
“The gentleman was impressed and will ask you to dance shortly. Now, it is our policy in the bar. If you need help, or need this guy to get away from you, ask me for an ‘Angel Shot’ and we will help you. If you feel you are in real trouble, ask for an ‘Angel Shot Rocks’. That will bring all sorts of security here. I promise you that no matter how ugly it winds up looking, we will keep you safe. If you can’t get to us for an order, just look at any one of us with both fists closed. All of us will be keeping an eye on you. You are the only unescorted lady in here, and we look after our lady guests.”
I was incredibly impressed. Now I knew why a place like this must cost a fortune. Trained staff like this must be well-paid. I had to admit, it made me more comfortable, and I relaxed a bit, though I was wondering where my husband was. Soon that wonder was interrupted as it got even darker, as a man came up from behind me. He seemed big enough to blot out the Sun. A hand lowered to my side, and I realized it was my gentleman caller. Looking up, I smiled, and left my seemingly tiny hand daintily in his as he assisted me to my feet and then to the dance floor. In the darkness and flashing lights, it was difficult to really see anything identifying him, other than his skin was dark.
There was no mistaking it. I couldn’t tell if he was Black, Arab, or Hispanic, but he was not a white guy! He was also a pretty good dancer. Holding my hand in his, he moved me, and led me quite well. My heels were really moving as he stepped to me and back, pulling me to him and back. I was able to breathe in his scent, a musk that was very pleasing to me, and I am sure he got a whiff or three of my vanilla-citrus perfume. I did steal a few glances out towards the bar, looking for my husband, but I was unable to see him. I just figured he was out in the darkness somewhere, eyeballing me. But I felt no danger from this man. He exuded masculinity, and grace, and the self-assuredness of a man who knew what he wanted.
He would spin me, holding onto my fingers, to let me spin out, the hem of my skirt flying to my waist, and exposing my tiny thong to the crowds, and then spinning back, until I was face to face to him, my eyes looking up as he looked down. The music was heavy, it was loud, and it was fast. We danced with such an intensity for about 15 minutes, before the DJ slowed things down. Way down. But instead of walking me off the stage, he pulled me to him, and I felt both hands rest on the upper curve of my butt as I was drawn into him. I laid my hands on his shoulders, and my head on his chest, as we swayed back and forth. He was quite the gentleman during this, and I was really attracted to him. I decided he would be the one, and I think he knew he had me, too.
We kissed on the dance floor, a tentative first kiss, followed by a longer, smoldering meshing of tongues, where I suckled his into my mouth, and licked it as our lips broke the seal, the lewdness of our kiss lost in the darkness. But it felt so hot, and so, so right in that moment. I purred into his mouth as we kissed some more, and I felt his hands start to reach under my miniskirt and feel the bare flesh of my ass, strong hands groping me, pulling my soft skin towards him, as he hefted me off my heels, my arms wrapping around his neck as I kissed him more hotly. It had taken him only 20 or 25 minutes to seduce me. After a few more minutes, our kissing broke down as the DJ began to revive the room, and he sat me down on my heels and took my hand in his, interlacing his thick fingers with my thin, dainty ones. I felt like a child in his grasp, and I let him lead me away. I never did see my husband, and still had no idea where he was. For that matter, I also had no idea where I was going, but a look from one of the waitresses made me give a thumbs up. No Angels needed tonight!
We didn’t speak, and I had to quick-step as he led me to the elevator. My heels click-clacked on the polished marble floor, the mirrored polishing so flawless that to see up my skirt, one only had to look down. It was then I realized he was black. Not Juwon-black, but pretty dark, indeed. He stepped into a glass elevator and pushed a button up to the sixth floor. He held me from behind, looking out as he whispered in my ear.
“No names, no personal information. Tonight is just the two of us, making passionate love.”
Then he nibbled at my neck, and up to my ear lobe, making me mew. My eyes fallen into slits as he further seduced me, I was able to get a single glimpse of my husband, who was coming down the other glass elevator, across from us! We were both nearing the sixth floor, us going up, and Steve going down. I doubted he would be able to catch up, and right then, I couldn’t do anything about it. My paramour had about 12 inches and maybe 150 lbs on me. From here on, I wasn’t going to get an Angel Shot, but I was going to be taken to heaven on a big, black cock! I wondered if my husband had seen me?
His room was not far down the hall, and as we reached the door, he handed the key to me and told me to stand still. I felt him reach under my circle skirt and draw my panties down, until they fell at my ankles.
“Step out or trip, Bitch.” It wasn’t a request.
In hopes of leaving my husband a sign, I gingerly stepped out as best I could, while his dark hands were roving over my body, seemingly everywhere at once. He then began to dry-hump me as I tried to open the door, but his jolting made inserting the key difficult. I couldn’t help giggling as he did this, as it was a fun challenge, but he was growing more intense.
“I’m gonna’ fuck you in the hallway if you can’t get this door open, Slut!”
His name-calling and vulgarity was turning me on, for some reason, and driving my emotions into a more submissive place. We both knew he was going to impale me on his black cock, but now the race was for where and when. With nothing to protect me from his sexual onslaught except for his pants, I was racing the clock. I heard his zipper drawing down as he paused and that was the moment I needed and as the door opened, he thrust me so hard I was lifted off of my feet, and bumped into his room. He grabbed me and twirled me around to face him, and grabbed me by the butt and elevated my feet off the floor as he kissed me, long, lewd and lascivious. It was searing hot, and I was getting so into him.
He held me in the air, as he kicked off his shoes and then walked into the room, dumping me on the bed with a heavy bounce. My skirt flared above my waist and I ended sitting on the bed, leaning back on my elbows, with my skirt flared sexily about me, and my knees splayed on my heels. I watched him as he damn-near ripped his clothes off, and then began to move onto the bed with me, crawling onto the bed with one knee and the other already between my legs. I looked at his crotch, his one hand stroking and shaking his cock, the size impressive. Bigger than Juwon, but not even close to The General’s territory. Still, he had a formidable weapon and He was going to use it in me. I leaned back, and drew my skirt up to my stomach, adjusting my head so my hair was flared out over my head, and I lifted my knees, to allow him full access to my body. That was when he started slapping my petals with his cock.
I uttered a series of mewing sounds with each blow, and I could feel my body getting even hotter. I didn’t know his name, or where he was from, only that I was really attracted to him, and I wasn’t even thinking about birth control. The fact I was already pregnant probably entered into this, but if I wasn’t, I probably wouldn't have in any event. This was pure animal mating between a white wife and an unknown black man. He must’ve grown satisfied with slapping my pearl as he then was sliding the thick head of his cock up and down my slit, where my mewlings became moans. I felt my petals part, and my slickness was coating him as he began to tease my opening. My chest rising and falling faster, I was making those sounds of desire, even need.
“Please... You’re torturing me. Stick your cock in me. Fuck this white wife with your big, black cock. Cum in me… give me your black bastard baby!”
That was all the encouragement he needed, and he began to prod at my opening and push for real. My voice cried out, a familiar mix of stress and pleasure as I was being forced to accommodate him, and he then added a second thrust, where my voice repeated my cry. Twice more, and he was now a few inches inside me, when We both heard heavy banging on the door.
“Suzi? Is that you?”
I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t. He simply controlled my voice by two more rapid thrust, my voice loudly moaning each time.
“Who is that?” my lover demanded.
“My… my husband…” I admitted between gasps.
Then he silenced my words by making me cry out, as my husband beat on the door.
“Tough shit for him. You’re my bitch, now!”
To punctuate his words, he began a series of hard, driving thrusts, to make me feel every fraction of an inch as his cock pile-drove deeper and deeper into me, giving me a fullness I had not felt since that night at the resort. It felt delicious, in a way, and I felt like a complete woman as I took every inch of his ebony spear, feeling his public bone grinding on my pearl. I couldn’t find a way to speak coherently, as there was a final series of bangs on the door. I just moaned loudly as he began to cycle his hips, and mate with me.
I didn’t hear any more of my husband, only his breathing and grunts, coupled with my own whining moans as he sent blast after blast pleasure through my nervous system, my pearl, my pussy and my labia all screaming at me how good this felt. I began to beg him.
“Fuck me! Fuck this married pussy! Stick your black cock in me and cum in me. Fill me with your black seed and fuck your black baby into my white married womb!”
He wasn’t just good, he was spectacular. My tongue was waggling in the air, eager to kiss him, as a final expression of how amazing he was making me feel, when he hit something in me, something even the General missed, and I suddenly flexed every muscle in my body, my toes curled and my legs high in the air, with my arms splayed and locked over my head. My mind went blank and I think I may have even passed out for a moment, because my next memory was his hips thrusting harder and faster, my voice wailing in time with his thrusts. He was growing harsh and he grabbed hold of my jostling breasts, hard, leaving a constellation of bruises where his finger pads had held me. He wasn’t making love and he wasn’t even being passionate. This was a simply hard, raw, rough fuck between the two of us. I was sating his need, and I was getting a screaming orgasm out of it, which came soon after.
I felt it arriving with the subtlety of a freight train and I screamed as it hit, shuddering violently, clutching onto the bedding as best I could, as he bellowed out his own climax, and his balls began to fill my pussy with his essence. I gasped for air under him, my legs falling down on the bed, his knees between my thighs as the door opened. We both looked over and it was a security man, with my husband right behind him.
“I... uhh... Well... Ma’am… I need to know if… you are… ummm... Okay, I guess?”
The security guard must’ve been all of 21, maybe, skinny as a rail and still had acne. It was comical. Here I was, flat on my back, legs apart, a naked black man resting atop me on his elbows, his cock flexing inside me as he was pumping more of his hot, sticky jism as my vagina was quivering on his black warrior, coaxing him to spurt every precious drop of his African seed into me. I had just experienced an orgasm better than any my husband ever gave me, and he was asking if I was okay? I broke out laughing.
“Oh, I am more than okay, dude. I’m doing great!”
My black lover similarly started laughing, and the guard kinda’ got the mirth and was smiling as he shrugged and turned to leave.
“Sorry to disturb you folks.”
That left my husband standing there, looking a mix of upset and forlorn.
“Suz-“
I shushed him.
“Honey, no names. He doesn’t know mine and I don’t know his. It is better this way.”
My lover looked to me and planted a big, soft, lewd kiss on my mouth, his thick lips sucking my bottom one into his, pulling on my face slowly as my head lifted to follow him. I couldn’t help but purr.
My husband stood there for a moment, flummoxed, and he began to speak again.
“Listen, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
My Lover began to follow the conversation with his head.
“I know... but you took so long! He found me, and he just… well... seduced me into his bed. What was I supposed to do?”
My husband stood there for along moment, trying to figure out what to say, I guess, and my Lover took the moment to give me a last thrust and flex of his cock inside me as he was starting to soften. He planted another kiss, licking my lips with his tongue as my tongue then came out to wrestle with his. I looked up to him after, and had to compliment him.
“You are magnificent, you know that?”
“And you are now pregnant.” Was his sharp retort.
“I know…” I figured why deny him his heroic moment.
My Lover then rose, and I felt his soft cock slide from me, along tendril of our combined love juices finally snapping and landing on the bed.
My husband just looked between us, and as my Lover stood next to him, he leaned over and spoke quietly, but loud enough to be heard.
“Listen, if you want me to show you how to fuck your wife, gimme thirty-minutes or so, and you can watch while I made fucking sure she’s got my black bastard in her.”
I was somewhat shocked at so brazen a taunt.
“I’m gonna’ grab a shower. If you’re still here when I come out, then get ready to get fucked so hard you pass-out.”
With that, he gave my husband a slap on the shoulder and closed the bathroom door behind him.
I looked at my husband, as I wanted him to decide on this. Would I go another round with this guy? Hell yes! But it would have to be my husband’s choice.
My husband decided, alright, and he reached for my wrist and damn-near dragged me off the bed.
“Let’s get the fuck outta’ here!”
“Wait... I need my panties!” and I started to search around the doorway.
“Put these on.” He nearly barked as he threw them at me. They were how he found me.
I was having to hurry after him, pulling my panties up under my skirt as he walked off down the hallway. I could tell he was pissed. I couldn’t blame him, though, because, in a way, I had betrayed him. Now would be the test whether my husband would be able to cope with being a cuckold.
