A story for you- 'Unfaithful Wife' Pt1

Hope you like this- I tried to make it as believable as possible, 'cos it helps me to fantasize that way.

If it's a bit tame for some of you, Pt2 is almost finished, and it's a lot dirtier! Think 24/7 black cock slut...

_____________________________________________

Unfaithful wife

I hear heels clattering on the doorstep, a key in the lock, and footsteps in the kitchen. I switch off the TV and go through, noting on the clock in the hall, that it�s past 2am.

My wife is pouring herself a drink. �Well?� I ask, in mock-authoritarian tones.

She turns around, auburn hair dishevelled, red mini-dress strap hanging off one shoulder, and a small ladder in her stocking. Her head is bowed, and she�s biting her lip in contrition. She looks up at me with �I did it again��

* * *

I remember the first time, and how quickly it came. We had been having problems with our marriage; both in our mid-late 30�s, things were no longer exciting, finally coming to a head with a massive argument. We talked for days. To cut a long story short, the eventual outcome was that we agreed we would abandon our inhibitions in the bedroom, live out our fantasies to the limit. She was so obliging, I still blush at the thought of it. The way she accommodated my desires and fantasies was breathtaking, and even some three years later, I can still close my eyes and picture the look on her face the first time she wore a strap-on dildo.

I also told her I would do absolutely anything for her, imagining that she would come up with some mild, benign fantasy involving dressing up or handcuffs.

How wrong I would be.

It seems she did fantasize after all, she just hadn�t admitted to herself that it was important, or indeed possible. But, as we lay on the bed some months later, she started to tell me her thoughts.

She was dressed in a black wonderbra and panties, propped up on one elbow, smoking a cigarette and stroking the underside of my cock with a painted fingernail. In a kind of conspiring tone, she said �I�ve been thinking a lot lately, about what you said. Maybe there is something I�d like� I mean, really like!�

�Oh, yeah?� I said, interested. I just love to hear her talk like this.

�Not sure if you�d like it, though,� she said, taking a drag of her cigarette.

I sat up. �Tell me.�

She sat up too, knees pulled up, and took a deep breath. She looked me in the eye.

�Weeell� I want to be fucked by other men.�

�W- what? What d�you mean?� I managed to stammer.

She instantly became defensive, and turned her back to me. �I knew you�d react like this.�

I put a hand on her shoulder and moved closer, kissing her neck, and putting an arm around her waist. I realised I was becoming aroused.

�Sorry, love. I didn�t mean to sound like that. Tell me more.�

She turned around, and I realised she was aroused as well. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed and her pupils dilated as she started to talk.

�You know I like you to vibe me when I suck you, don�t you? You must know what I�m thinking about��

We were close to each other by this point, and I could taste the fresh smoke on her breath. I pulled her towards me and kissed her, and was surprised by the ferocity of her response. The beating of her heart, also, was impossible to ignore. We French kissed frantically, fingering each other. �I know you like the way I look when you fuck me� (kiss).. You must think about it� (kiss).. me with two guys� (kiss).. fucking me at both ends��

My arousal was now absolute, as was usually the case when her language descended to the gutter. Fairly soon we had become our usual (post-argument) mutual admiration society, working each other up to a shattering series of orgasms, assisted by two identical & very large black dildos.

For the next few weeks, it was obvious she was thinking of little else, and the subject pervaded our lovemaking. �come on,� she panted as she rode me, her tight anus clamped around my shaft. �I know you like me as a slut, smoking in bright red lipstick with my titties hanging out. I know you like other guys looking at me. I want their cocks, as well��

She�d save pictures on our computer where she knew I�d find them; always a woman would be getting fucked by two or more men, usually gazing at the camera with an enormous black cock in her mouth. Subtle it wasn�t. I began to suspect she was very serious about this.

A week or so later, she returned from a night out with her friends, and I noticed she was quiet and quite sober. She also got into the shower before bed, which was unusual because she knows I adore the way she smells and tastes after a night out. I love to smell cigarette smoke in her hair, stale perfume, red wine and not a little perspiration on her from a night�s dancing in a club. It all adds to the heady cocktail of sex that engulfs me as she sits on the bed & spreads her legs for my willing tongue. On this occasion, she just told me she was really tired, mumbling something about taxis, and went more or less straight to sleep after a few tender kisses.

She was quiet and irritable for days after, until I challenged her in the kitchen, with �look Paula, what�s the matter?�

Immediately, her lip started to twitch and she broke down, hugging me tightly and sobbing uncontrollably. �I�m so, so sorry,� was all she could say.

It transpired that she�d been out in a nice, black, low-cut top (she likes to wear a white lacy bra underneath, and push out her chest so it shows through), and as usual, she�d been winding guys up, clomping around on her heels, showing off her stocking tops, that kind of thing. This time, however, she�d had a few too many cocktails & had taken it a bit further, necking with a guy in an alley. He was quite insistent, she said, and before she knew it, she�d been on her knees sucking him, sobering up as his cum splashed onto her shoulder and sleeve. She had to clean up in the pub toilets, and since then she had been racked with guilt at what she�s done.

I wasn�t really surprised, as I�d seen how she could flirt outrageously. What did surprise me, however, was that following the initial (and expected) pangs of hurt & jealousy, I was starting to feel aroused, and as I pulled her towards me, still crying, I became aware of the swell of her breasts and the colour in her parted lips, and started to imagine her in that alley, looking just a little uncomfortable, as this guy cajoled his way into her mouth.

I didn�t have to work that day, so I led her upstairs, and ran a hot bath. I decided she needed to be pampered, which is exactly what I did, scrubbing her back as we bathed together. She eventually started to relax, lying on my chest with a glass of wine. From behind, I nibbled at her neck and earlobe. �I love you so much, Paula. I fucking love you so much. You�re so gorgeous, and sexy��

I made it quite clear that what she had done had been enormously erotic. �Just be careful in future, eh?� I said, tenderly. �Maybe I should be nearby, next time��

She gasped, and turned round, almost spilling her drink, and started to shower me with kisses. �Oh, darling, would you do that for me? Watch me do it? Oh, my god, fuck me now��

She turned over onto her knees, and grasped my cock, pulling me towards her. Water splashed over the sides of the bath as I shafted her, once again that image in my head. �Talk to me��

She looked back over her shoulder at me, almost sneering. �I�ll be leaning on a wall, no knickers, with my skirt up while some guy I�ve never met is fucking me from behind, and you�ll be watching me from the shadows, watching him do me.�

I came almost immediately, as she squealed and moaned through her own orgasm. At this point, it became apparent to me that I wanted this as much as she did. I wanted my wife to be a slut, and not just for me.

We talked for weeks about it, getting more and more excited, working out little details. We agreed on most points; for instance, we wouldn�t accept a watered down version, it had to be all the way. We didn�t want any fumbling with condoms, and anyway, we both wanted her to take spunk, so she started taking birth-control pills straight away. We would monitor her for social diseases, and to minimise the risk of HIV she would go for married men, but that was it. Unprotected, penetrative, ejaculative casual sex in an alley, while her husband watched.

The first time was almost textbook, and I can remember it as clear as day. She�s a tall girl, and in heels she�s approaching 6�, so with a short, pleated skirt, black stockings, a plunging halter-neck top and too much makeup, she�s difficult to miss. We entered the bar, a notorious pick-up venue, separately, and within a few minutes she was chatting to a guy at the bar, flirting in her usual way. I kept a safe distance so I wouldn�t be seen. They sat down at a table at the opposite end of the bar from me, the guy obviously plying her with drinks, which she accepted readily. At one point, I felt a stab of sadness as he took her hand, and she leaned towards him, her boobs spilling forwards and her glossy red lips parting for a kiss.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stood up, leading her towards the door, and she looked over to me with an urgent look. She seemed to relax a little as I left the bar, a short way behind them. I settled into the shadows of a warehouse doorway, just 20-30 yards away, as he started to kiss at her neck. She looked over towards me, unsmiling, and lit a cigarette, her back against the wall. She returned his kisses for a while, dropped down, unzipped his flies and released his erect cock.

My initial shame and jealousy gave way to lust and admiration, at the sight of this porn star my wife had become. For my benefit, she said �Ooh, you�re big� bigger than my husband,� before taking him into her mouth, and sucking. She couldn�t resist looking at me, and winking. I felt precum leak from my cock.

She blew him enthusiastically for several minutes, and he started to moan as if on the verge of orgasm, but she disengaged and stood up. Draping her arms over his shoulders, I heard her ask �do you want to fuck me?� He nodded an assent, and reached into his back pocket for a condom. �Put that away,� she said, then, louder, in my direction �cum inside me��

There was a wheelie bin in the alley, and she made use of this; folding her arms across the top, she could look directly into my eyes in the doorway where I hid, knowing I was watching in awe. The guy couldn�t get his cock into her quickly enough, and her breasts jiggled in the halter top as he banged her. She looked straight at me, letting her cigarette dangle from her lips the whole time, knowing this would turn me on even more, if this were possible. As the guy�s orgasm started to arrive, for real this time, she started to encourage him, mainly for my benefit. �That�s it, baby, fuck me all the way. Pump it into Paula.� It was obvious she wanted him to remember her name.

As the guy moaned and started to cum, she visibly shifted her feet further apart and lifted her bum to accept as much spunk as deeply as possible. She took a huge drag, exhaling in my direction and smiling �oh, yeah,� as the guy shot his cum up her.

After he�d withdrawn, she flicked the butt of her cigarette towards me and hitched down her skirt as he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily. �You better go that way- I�m meeting my husband soon�� she said, composing herself, applying a fresh coat of lipstick and primping her hair. The guy disappeared, and she strutted towards me proudly as I emerged, giggling at my obvious wide-eyed speechlessness. We had planned to have a drink and talk about it, but I couldn�t wait that long. I took her by the hand, with a �c�mon�� and led her around the corner where I had parked our car. I couldn�t believe how turned on I was, and we barely had time to close the car doors before lust overcame us, and we dived at each other, kissing fondling & biting. �Oh my god, Paula,� I said, reaching between her stocking tops to feel a stranger�s still-warm spunk leaking from my wife�s vagina. �You fucking gorgeous slut. You sensational fucking bitch.�

She smiled nervously at me, a finger between her teeth. �Am I a bad girl?�

�I think you know the answer to that one, you fucking cumslut!�

�Well, there�s plenty more where that came from! You�re going to see your wife fucked senseless� Now, take me home and show me how much you adore me..�

I drove. �Did you enjoy that? His cock looked quite big to me��

She turned round to face me and paused. �Oh, yeah. And he was shunting it right up me. It was fantastic. We better hope those pills work, or I�m pregnant, for sure��

* * *


Over the coming months, things progressed. I watched her pick up men in the same bar; fucking a black guy one week, sucking off two at once the next. She was an absolute cock whore in that alley, totally obsessed. She just couldn�t get enough. And neither could I.
Friends dropped hints to me that her behaviour was somewhat risqu�, but stopped short of telling me she was gaining a slutty reputation. I knew already, and revelled in it. I doubt they could ever understand how good it made both of us feel.

She had gained so much confidence, that one night, as we made love, she said �you know, I think I�ll be OK now. You don�t have to be there, every time, if you don�t want to be��

I felt those pangs again, as I realised she wanted to take it even further.

�It�s just that, well, I met this black guy at work, and he wants to take me out. I think I�d like to spend the night with him��

An incredible sadness spread over me; she wanted to give herself completely, albeit just for a night, like a teenage girl in love. We talked for ages, and I found it difficult to conceal my hurt and jealousy. Showering me with kisses, she told me I was the only one she�d ever loved, and she would never, ever leave me, but she needed this aspect of her life now. I agreed with her, that it had enriched our relationship completely, to the degree that I could barely look at her without an aching, physical desire. I consented, and she showed her gratitude by applying a thick coat of lipstick, and wanking me off onto her mouth while talking obscenities, one of my favourite bedroom treats.

It was such a bittersweet pleasure, watching her get ready for her date with him; I sat in a chair in the bedroom while she dried & styled her hair, put on her eye shadow, thick mascara and expensive Dior lipstick in a deep orangey red. She put on her earrings & diamond necklace, followed by her best lingerie- plum red lacy balconette bra and French knickers from Aubade, finished off by sheer patterned hold-ups and heels.

She lit a cigarette and turned round to me, a hand on one hip. �There, what d�you think?�

I couldn�t find the words; I just wanted to hold her, and as I put my arms around her, she giggled, and whispered �careful, don�t spoil my paint,� as she gave me a tiny kiss on the lips, letting me savour the gorgeous scent of her lipstick and her wonderful Clinique eau de parfum. She put on her green floral-pattern summer dress.

I couldn�t stop myself crying as she drove away; to see her putting so much care into getting ready for someone else was heartbreaking, but so exceptionally erotic. She had told me she may be back tonight, but that he had a reputation for being well endowed; we both new she would be fucking all night.

I slept fitfully, waking ever couple of hours, masturbating at the thought of her, completely lost in love in that guy�s bed. I thought again of that first time; when we�d got home, we were both so completely aroused, that we�d got into a sixty-nine position on the bed, and I�d licked all her lover�s hot cum out of her while she�d gorged herself on my own spurting tool. I imagined her giggling and swaying as he pawed her in his bedroom, stepping out of those expensive pants and getting between the sheets.

The next morning, she arrived back at about 11 o�clock, dropping her bag in the hall, where we kissed uncontrollably. Her breath tasted almost comically strongly of semen. �Sorry I�m so late��

�So, it was a success, then?� I asked, nonchalantly..

�Oh, fuck, yes,� she replied, in that beautiful, husky voice of hers. �Want to hear about it?�

As I suspected, they were back at his house by 9pm, and they had fucked all night, and this morning, too. �I�m not kidding, he�s got ten inches. Ten inches of solid, black cock. He fucked me sore,� she said, proudly.

She looked up from her coffee, a guilty look on her face. �He�s fucked my arse sore, too��

I knew this would come eventually; she�d always said she�d kept her arsehole just for me, but we did agree early on that there would be no limits to her activity. �Did he cum in your arse, too?� I asked, casually.

�Three times�� she mumbled.

We kissed on the bed, and I fingered her, feeling cum dribbling out between my fingers, tasting it on her breath. �So he fucked you again this morning, and you sucked him off as well?�

�Yeah�� she sighed, smiling dreamily. She stretched out on the bed and almost purred with contentment.

We kissed harder and I realised, my heart pounding, that I was totally in love with her, my adoration complete and all consuming, far stronger than it had been when we were in our early 20�s. I desired her completely, I masturbated while looking at pictures of her or just thinking of her to the exclusion of all others.

For me to feel this way, I had had to let her make herself available physically to whomever she wanted.

I decided it was a price worth paying.
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

Is Openmouth still around? How about posting more, as promised?

yep! looks like another one for the never finished books...just as well toss the first part because we will never see the end or by the time we do it won't make sense!

Hi there, been away a while but I can post Pt2 if anyone wants to read it.
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

yes that would be great
http://sassascuckolddiary.blogspot.com/
http://ladysassaslandofkink.blogspot.com/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/misssassaskinkyland/
www.icuckoldyou.com

OK, here you go!

Unfaithful Wife Part2

As I turn the corner into our street, I see Paula, framed in the light of the bedroom window, smoking a long, all-white cigarette. She watches me take out my jacket and briefcase, and lock the car. I look up as I walk up the drive towards the door, and with her cigarette dangling between her red lips, she lets her silk robe fall from her shoulders, exposing her nakedness. After watching me for several seconds, she reaches up and closes the curtains.

“Hey!” I say, in the bedroom. “You’ll get us talked about!”

“Huh,” she replies, blowing smoke as she pouts “like they don’t already!”

I laugh. Can’t really argue with her on that point. “But we do have some friends down here…”

She puts her arms around me, and kisses me, pressing her sex against my thigh, moaning. “Babe, I’m a slut, what do you expect…?”

She has certainly made good progress, in recent months, in that direction; our status as a well-off, childless couple affords us much latitude in terms of how we conduct our sex life (or lives), and as the arguments that had nearly caused us to split were now firmly behind us, we really were able to give free reign to our fantasies. Ironically, the arguments had started when Paula suspected me of having an affair; I denied this, of course, and it soon became apparent to us that I was far more excited by the prospect of her infidelity than my own! Within a very short time, and with my consent (and fascination), she became sexually active with other men.

I smile and point out to her that she most certainly is a slut, and she kisses me, gasping with lust. Having been away on business, I am nicely pent up and the taste of delicious, smoky breath and thick lipstick, for the first time in a week, drives me wild. We kiss frantically as she undresses me, and her cool, soft hand on my cock is exquisite. After several minutes of this, we are both coming close to orgasm, and it’s no surprise to me when she breaks off, and sits up in bed, reaching for her Silk Cuts. Her smoking is an enormous turn on for me, and she likes to prolong foreplay by lighting up.

Her lighter clicks. “You know how much it turns you on when you watch me getting fucked…” She always emphasises the ‘f’ word, and always makes eye contact as she says it.

I nod an assent.

She smiles cheekily and smokes languidly, blowing out a series of perfectly formed rings. “Well, wouldn’t you like to see it more often?”

My pounding chest and rock-hard erection would suggest I would, much to her amusement. It had been over a month now, and I’m actually craving it, dying for it to happen again soon, to be in her presence as she takes more cock, the bigger and more numerous the better. “Uh huh, I thought so…”

She’s kissing my neck, that doe-eyed look on her face. “But Paula, you have to think about the practicalities of it…”

“Mmm…” she replies, breaking off our kiss with a smack and reaching under the bed, to produce her two enormous, black dildos. “You won’t be thinking about practicalities…”
She kneels upright & straddles one of them, penetrating herself with a sigh, and grinding down onto it. The other she holds horizontally, and begins to suck, producing lots of saliva.

“…when you see me doing this…”

I find myself masturbating, and it’s good.

She opens her mouth, and her spit runs from her mouth in an entirely convincing facsimile of semen. Her eyes narrow, devilishly. “…Every- fucking- day.”

I jerk and my spunk erupts skywards in a wonderful, spontaneous orgasm. As I pump out the last of it, gradually returning to earth, there’s no denying it any more; the smug glint in her eye says as much. We both know it. This is how we want our life to be; we want Paula to be a total, 24/7, exhibitionist slut.

Now, I’m fairly shy, and I blush easily. Paula, on occasion, plays to this by acting slutty in public; sometimes, even, to punish me for some small infraction. Once, when we received a surprise wedding invitation from a cousin (who was not especially close, but had recently made a lot of money and wanted to show off her sumptuous and tasteless residence), she agreed to meet me at the garden-party style reception on the pretext of needing to be elsewhere beforehand. She arrived, dressed in a parody of the traditional middle-class summer dress; a flowery Laura Ashley frock and wide brimmed straw hat. Any semblance of respectability was forfeited, however, by the dress being open almost to the navel, and so ridiculously short that it failed to cover her obviously naked buttocks if she leaned more than five degrees forward, an action that would also cause her too-small lacy bra to give up the fight and spill out its jiggling contents, at which point she would feign shock, her over-painted lips forming a surprised pout. As she tottered around in six-inch heels, with a glass of champagne, and a cigarette hanging almost constantly from her mouth, the women stared at her with hate and envy, aged relatives eyed me with pity and the men at the party openly salivated. At one point she disappeared from view; I strolled discretely over to where I thought she’d be- in a quiet, wooded part of the extensive garden, to be rewarded by the sight of her putting the finishing touches to a hand-job with one of the groom’s friends. As I spied through the bush, she slowly stroked him off, showering spunk, obviously deliberately, over her hand and his shirt and trousers. He seemed quite annoyed at this, but Paula just shrugged nonchalantly and continued smoking as she wiped her hand with a tissue. Despite my embarrassment, I was aroused beyond belief, and our sex that night was mind-blowing.

As we lie in bed, we chat excitedly; we know things are going to change for us, but we’re not going to deny what we want any longer. What seemed extreme to us at first- Paula’s serial unprotected stranger-sex in that alley, and her passionate and protracted glammed-up bedroom romps with other men (with my blessing)- though exciting, didn’t go far enough. That much we agree on, but we resolve to give some thought to the nature of our intended new lifestyle, and how it would progress. I fall asleep soon afterwards, but despite my post-coital relaxation, dream feverishly.

* * *

A couple of weeks ago, I had posted an account of our activities, to date, on an erotic literature website. Checking my emails a few days after our revelation, I discover I have some feedback from the website. One reader had said how much he had enjoyed the ‘story,’ and that I had described Paula very vividly, and also my feelings as her ‘cuckold.’

I’m a bit surprised to hear myself described in this way; I just like watching my wife being fucked, to feel that heart-wrenching pang as she blatantly displays her preference for another man’s cock- surely this is a fairly common fetish. Does it make me a ‘cuckold?’

I resolve to find out. My first port of call is the person who left the feedback, fortunately not anonymously, leaving an email address. It actually turns out to be a middle-aged woman, called June.

In my email, I tell her that the story is in fact true, and I also tell her a bit about us, and the subject of our recent conversation. She replies very quickly, saying she was surprised and pleased to hear that it was a true story, and that I most certainly was a cuckold, and the sooner I realised, it the better.

I tell her that we don’t really have a domme/sub relationship; she replies again, saying that the cuckold lifestyle was subtler than that, but certainly required submission on my part. She included some links to websites I might find interesting, including a discussion forum, of which she is a moderator.

As Paula and I peruse the sites, we are amazed by the personal stories, from the people who subscribe to that lifestyle. An inevitable question was ‘why?’ For anyone brought up on the middle-class mantra that a marriage should be between equal partners, it seemed bizarre that people would want to live this way. Bizarre, and erotic.

I ask June her opinion on this, and she asks if she can meet us for drinks one evening, and discuss the subject. As we are not far apart, in different suburbs of London, it seems like a good idea.

The following Thursday, she joins us at our table in an exclusive piano bar. I stand up to greet her- she is early 50s, slim with short auburn hair and ‘European’ glasses. Wearing a pinstripe suit, with fine, manicured nails and low heels, she looks expensive. She exudes a stern, bitchy confidence. Sitting down in the sofa opposite us, she reaches in her Louis Vuitton bag, and takes out a pack of More menthol 120s. She sees Paula is smoking already, so she doesn’t offer her one of the brown cigarettes. Extracting one from the green pack, she looks at me as she delicately places the filter between her lips with the tips of two fingers. I reach across with Paula’s gold lighter, and June touches her tip to the flame, breathing a smoky ‘thank you,’ with a smile.

I pour her a glass of wine. “It’s lovely to meet you, June!”

Paula agrees. “And thanks for replying to our emails, too! We must come across as being completely ignorant…”

“Not at all,” the lady replies. “I loved to hear of your adventures. Particularly so,” she smiles, “now I know they’re true!”

“What’s your interest in the subject we’ve been talking about?” I ask.

She replies, in a normal conversational voice “I cuckold my husband. We’ve lived the life for ten years now.”

I glance around; the other drinkers present are enjoying their drinks and chat, obliviously.

“Don’t worry,” she smiles, taking a drag. “They won’t register what we’re talking about.”

Paula smiles back. “It’s so nice in here, we can’t possibly be discussing anything dirty!”

June agrees, exhales slowly at the ceiling, and resumes. “He married me for that purpose; he’s a rich man, and knew what he wanted. Very soon after we were married, I took a lover, then another and another. My latest lover is just 30.”

“So, what’s in it for your husband?” I ask.

She fixes me with an icy stare, her cheeks hollowing as she takes the deepest of drags on her More. “But Philip, surely you of all people know the answer to that,” she says coolly. Leaning forward to stub out the cigarette in the ashtray, she pauses to exhale an endless stream of thick smoke in my face, which lasts several wonderful seconds. Paula grins.

June goes on. “He’s had bimbos; they still throw themselves at his feet, but they hold no interest to him any more. Now, he gets to watch his powerful, sophisticated woman being fucked to distraction by young men. I don’t let him fuck me, and he says the excitement and longing he feels is beyond belief. Oh, I love him, but he worships me, just as I worship my lover’s cock. And my lover is very well endowed...” My gaze drops to her mouth as she talks. She has beautiful, painted lips, I note, and perfect teeth. I realise I’m hard for her, a woman almost twenty years my senior. “In other ways, we have more of a traditional domme/sub relationship. I won’t go into that, now…”

Paula lights another Silk Cut, smiling her slightly asymmetrical smile. “It all sounds lovely….” She’s wearing a dark, pleated skirt, a couple of inches above the knee and a tight-fitting red top that exposes a generous amount of cleavage. Her sheer stocking-covered legs are crossed, and a platform-heeled shoe hangs off her foot. She smokes in her usual unhurried, unselfconscious style, holding her cigarette between her fingertips just a few inches from her mouth, occasionally pouting as she slowly places it in her mouth and sucks the sweet smoke into her lungs.

“It is, babe. Your hair is gorgeous, by the way! It really suits you,” she flirts. “God, I bet you look good in that alley. No wonder Philip here is so obsessed with you…”

“Oh, thanks!” She blushes, tossing it from her eye. It tumbles down to her shoulders in loose, brunette curls, with blonde streaks. June is right; it’s extremely sexy.

June resumes again. “It certainly works for us. My husband’s business interests have escalated beyond recognition; he hasn’t been so hungry for thirty years, he says. He’s lost weight, he looks healthy. His wealth keeps me dripping in Chanel, Prada and young studs.”

She reaches for another cigarette; I light her again. She sits back in the sofa, stretches out her arms, and says “and that was a party political broadcast from the cuckold party!” A young guy smiles over at her and she winks at him.

Paula grips my hand with both of hers, and snuggles close to me, with an excited “mmmm!”

“Now, I know that your situation is probably very different from ours,” says June, “and I can’t tell you how to live your life, but I know from what you wrote, and what you’ve done so far, that you won’t accept the shit, that this lot..” she looks around her, at the uninspired-looking crowd, “…laughingly refer to as a sex life.”

Smoke drifts from her open mouth as she regards us. “Paula, you’re a highly desirable woman, you deserve to have men all over you, literally and figuratively. Are you imagining that, Philip?” I am. “Then give her what she wants, what you both want. You’re both still young, with no ties you say. You really should try this, you won’t regret it.”

* * *

During the next few weeks we plan, refine. June suggested that we devise a plan, and the closer we stick to it, she said, the more exquisite and intense our experience will be. She will offer advice and encouragement, however we choose to progress, but from now on, we agree, she will only converse with Paula, as this will enhance the aspect of her female superiority over me. I am sceptical about this whole D/S side of things, embarrassed even, but June said we should trust her; she had some experience in this, after all, and she could tell, deep down, I long to be submissive.

We continue to peruse the websites, and registered on the forum, too. Now we have a frame of reference. One night, as we play, discussing the possibilities, I ask her “how far are we going to take this?”
I’m unsurprised by her reply. “Do you really have to ask? We’re going to take this all the way, baby. And I mean all the way.”

We read more real-life stories; the more extreme and specific the story, the more it appeals to us. It’s fun to pick and choose various aspects, until we have a plan. To get things started:

-She would advertise on a ‘swingers’ personals website, for a group of guys to fuck her. It appears one can be very specific on these sites; we hoped to find a couple of black guys with some experience in this.

Why black guys? We discuss this, at length; neither of us consider ourselves racist, and we do have black friends and work colleagues. Possibly, however, we are perpetuating racial stereotypes, deep-seated ones within us. Quite apart from the obvious benefits of the average black man supposedly being well endowed, and the visual impact of that marvellous contrast between a large, ebony member and a pale-skinned European woman, we wish to use other stereotypes to our advantage- that of the smart, intelligent, middle-class white woman degrading herself, presenting herself, willingly and enthusiastically, to be used by a supposed socially-inferior black man, simply because it makes her feel like a slut, and she craves that feeling. That arrogant swagger that a young black man has when he escorts his blonde girlfriend in his BMW, the slightly insecure possessiveness, the idea of black guys socialising in groups- all are appealing aspects; the thought of my wife, dolled up, blushing and vulnerable, in the middle of a group of sexually-dominant black men, is intoxicating.

-She would be free to do this ‘research’ as long as she wanted; once she had found the right group, she would broach the subject with them of a regular arrangement.
-We would sell our house. There was nothing keeping us where we were, after all. The house was worth a fortune, and we would move to be closer to Paula’s new lovers.

I work as a sales executive for a large company, which means I travel all over the country, and occasionally in Europe; it doesn’t particularly matter where we live. Any midlands town would provide an anonymous new-build house on a large development, where our sordid life could be lived out to the full. We would pocket a considerable amount of cash in the deal, which means Paula would not have to work (in the traditional sense!); and some could be put to good use as described later…

Paula currently works as PA to a businessman in London; I think he’ll be sorry to see her go, because she’s sucked him off every morning for the past three months. She even allowed him to fuck her, cynically in return for a hefty Christmas bonus. She told me she gone to town with the whole ‘slut secretary’ scenario for him; standing up, with her skirt up around her waist, and her top buttons undone, leaning on a cabinet, smoking and filing her nails as he screwed her. I know she’s not kidding- it’s her style, completely. She’s also been having a torrid affair with one of his associates; he believes that I know nothing about it. We wonder how he’d react to learning of my eagerness to suck his cum out of her when she gets home in the morning…

The time spent devising the plan is, if anything, more exciting even than Paula’s exploits over the past few months. Every little nuance sends us into a frenzy of lust; we can’t keep our hands off each other. The anticipation, of how things could be, is palpable, although I acknowledge, with some sadness, that if I’m going to be a real cuckold, I soon won’t be able to fuck her any more.

Paula’s responsibilities to the plan were particularly enjoyable to devise:

-With the assistance of her lovers, or ‘group,’ she would degrade herself completely; become their slut, be available to them or any of their friends to fuck day or night. They would sleep with her in our bed, while I stayed in the spare room, or she would visit them. In short, she would utterly worship black cock. In rare circumstances, a white friend of her group could use her; otherwise, for the rest of her life, only black men could fuck her.
-She would entertain as many as wanted to use her, at the same time, and actively pursue double- and triple-penetration if possible. She would never wear panties in their presence, except perhaps a tiny thong when it would enhance the beauty of, but definitely not hide, her engorged vulva. She would dress provocatively, in skirts, stockings, heels and halter-neck tops, always willing and available; in fact, she would be forbidden to refuse the advances of a friend of her group, in any orifice. Eventually, she would be stretched wide open by the sheer volume of traffic up her vagina and anus.
-She would live the life of a spoilt bitch; always pampered, made up, manicured and, of course, clean shaven below. She would sit and smoke in cafés in expensive, provocative dresses, until required for sex by one or more of her group. If they wanted to kiss and touch her in public, she would open up to them.
-She should always seek the audience of her husband, when he was around, for her activities. She would try, whenever possible, to make eye contact with him while enjoying the attention of her lovers.
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

My responsibilities were equally specific:

-She would no longer be available for me to penetrate sexually. I was free to watch her activities, without participating, providing her lovers didn’t mind. She could, on occasion, wank me off if she felt like it, but this would be a rare occurrence, and masturbating in her presence would be my usual form of relief. I would perform oral sex on her whenever she wished it, especially for the purpose of cleaning her up following sex with her lovers.
-We would use some of the money from the sale of the house, to surgically enhance Paula’s figure, and she would become a blonde; this would hopefully make her even more desirable to her black lovers. I would keep her beautified, and well dressed with expensive clothes and jewellery.

How can I describe Paula? She’s a fairly tall brunette, with natural curves and long legs. She has sleepy looking blue eyes, a gorgeous natural pout, which she likes to further enhance with thick, red lipstick, and a slightly arrogant look. Despite keeping herself trim, toned and fit, she’s addicted to cigarettes and smokes 40 a day, which makes her voice slightly husky; fortunately, she looks after her skin meticulously, and maintains a youthful complexion. She has a temper; she can be bitchy and petulant which I find strangely appealing. She can also be incredibly tender, and pleasure shows on her face so readily that licking her out is a wonderful experience.
Does she need breast enhancement? No, she’s a 40D already, but that’s missing the point. With 40F or double Fs, braless, in a halter-neck top, short skirt and stockings, dripping in lip-gloss, she will be completely irresistible to her lovers.

The responsibilities of her ‘core group’ (probably, two guys who are good friends) were fairly simple:

-They would ensure her physical safety and health at all times. Part of this would be vetting potential lovers; a potential beneficial effect of this would be to provide guys with the largest possible cocks to fuck her.
-They would remind her, regularly, that the purpose of her life was to be their slut.

So, to summarise our plan, my wife would become a blonde, big-boobed fuck-toy, and the property of a group of well-hung black men. I would provide an expensive, comfortable life for her. I found the prospect of being married to such a creature, an exquisite, wanton sexual diva, completely intoxicating…


(To be continued)
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

Bravo.

Openmouth

What a great story! Please keep it going.

GH

There is a part 3! I dunno if I should post it, though- it's quite dirty...

I'll see.


Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

I think we need part 3 OpenMouth, I like dirty

The dirtier the better OM; we'd love to read it.

Hi, me again! Here's part 3. And yes- there is a part 4!

Unfaithful Wife Part3

They say that when one is living the life one truly loves, money is no object, and there will always be enough. Paula’s website has gone from strength to strength, and now brings in enough money for me to stop working if I want. I find, however, I enjoy the time spent driving up and down the country, as it gives me time to reflect on things. Ironically, also, I have been promoted to a senior position with a much larger salary.

For a few months now, everything has been going according to our plan. Paula looks sensational as a voluptuous blonde, especially surrounded by the black guys she almost exclusively hangs out with. She takes delight in wearing tiny vest tops that barely cover her nipples, and pushes her chest out proudly. In the midlands town we moved to, she’s known as ‘the white slut who likes black cock;’ the perpetrators think they are insulting her, but we couldn’t improve upon it if we tried. On occasion, I listen to her in the room next to me (these new-build walls are thin!), giggling, laughing and squealing as they throw her around on the bed, fucking her in every way imaginable, and I feel sad. When I see her, though, quivering with lust, big, lace-clad boobs jiggling, totally fulfilled, my heart feels like it wants to burst. I never dreamed that I could be so completely in love with her. On the occasions when she isn’t entertaining her boys, and we sleep together, we hold each other so close it’s difficult to breathe. We declare our undying love for one another. Sometimes we cry. I want to fuck her, but to remind me, she always wears panties, sourced from a ‘specialist’ website, bearing the slogan ‘black cock only.’ I slide my hand inside them, saying ‘please, please…’ and she always sounds sad when she says things like “you know you can’t, darling. You know I only take big, black cocks, now, just the way you wanted…”

*

I return from a trip, and picking up a beer from the fridge on the way past, I walk up the stairs to our bedroom. It’s 1am, and I hear voices. “Hello,” I say, opening the door.

Paula sits up in our king-size bed, under the duvet between Dex and John, her two original lovers. As ever, she’s smoking a cigarette; in the subdued light of the bedroom, the blue smoke curls to the ceiling . Her beautiful big, inflated breasts are naked and her face heavily made up, with smoky blue eye-shadow and mascara, and her bright red Elizabeth Arden lipstick. There’s a wide, diamante choker around her throat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look as slutty; the blonde hair, tied up on top of her head, always makes me catch my breath, especially when she’s in bed with two black men. “Baby! You’re back!” She beams.

“Hi Phil,” says Dex.

“How’s it goin’, Phil…” says John.

They are both great guys, in their 40s & well built. Dex has a beard and a dry sense of humour, John is bald, muscular and smiles a lot. He’s got plenty to smile about, I think to myself.

“You going to join us?” She asks. “We’re about to go again- look…”

She pulls down the duvet. She’s wearing only black lace-top holdups and high-heeled sandals, and her legs are spread apart and draped over her lovers. Her vagina is soaked in semen. Both of their cocks are erect and over twelve inches long. She reaches down, taking one in each hand, and starts to stroke them, her red lips parted and her heavy-lidded eyes gazing into mine.

I never cease to be amazed at the sight of a manicured, white woman’s hand as it performs slow strokes on a long, long, black shaft. It seems to take forever to reach the head, before reversing it’s direction and sliding slowly back down to the balls, arriving some seconds later. But there are two huge cocks. And these are my wife’s hands. And she’s looking at me as she wanks them. I pity the poor, unenlightened men who will never experience such an intensely erotic tableau.

She stands up, takes a drag on her cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray. She struts over to me, trailing smoke; she takes the slide from her hair and shakes it out, letting it cascade down. She performs a little dance, putting one outstretched arm, then the other, over my shoulders, before kissing me full on the mouth. She tastes, as I imagined, of cigarettes, and semen. God, I fucking love you, I think to myself.

She turns her attention back to the bed, and the two enormous erections in front of her. She climbs on, and starts to suck each in turn. “Mmm,” she turns around with a gasp, tossing her shiny, loose, dirty-blonde curls over her shoulder. “Clean me up, darling! As you can see, I’ve been well & truly fucked…”

As she resumes her oral activity, I place my hands on the cheeks of her big, round bum. Her labia are red and inflamed, her anus gapes and pouts angrily, so obviously recently used for prolonged penetration. Spunk leaks out from both orifices. The pleasure I get from licking other men’s cum from Paula’s shaven cunt is all-enveloping. She is quite clearly enjoying it too. Eventually, she sits up, and kisses me, her mouth smeared with saliva, and rich, sweet precum.

“Okay, baby,” she breathes. “Watch me. Watch them fuck me…”

I sit in the armchair to the side of the bed, as they assume the classic ‘spit roast’ position. I marvel at her enthusiasm as she bounces on Dex’s shaft, expertly mouth-loving John’s huge tool at the same time.

Her eyes gaze at me. “Like it, love?” She gasps. “Enjoying it? I know you are. I know. Watch me.”

The guys manhandle her around; it’s John’s turn to fuck her.

“Oh, watch me, baby,” she pants as John penetrates her. “I bet you’d love to be fucking me, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I bet…MMMMM!

She sucks violently on the side of Dex’s thick, black tool as John pounds her.

“Oh GOD! Watch me, babe. Only big fucking black cocks for Paula… You’re home for a week, aren’t you honey? Mmm, you lucky man, you’re going to watch this every night and day, for a whole fucking week, watch your porn slut wife getting fucked by big, black cocks for a whole fucking week…”

As they use her like a doll, in front of me, I stroke myself carefully. The intensity of the feeling is such that I have to control myself, or I’ll cum in mere seconds. My balls ached with desire as I drove home from my latest trip, and she’s not disappointing me.

She disengages from Dex’s cock, and kneels up to face him with a gasp, stroking his muscular chest and shoulders. She glances at me, turns back to him, smiling, and they start to kiss. John joins them, grasping her forearm firmly and placing her hand on his shaft. “Wank me, bitch…” he says.

She smiles “yes, sir,” and starts to stroke him slowly, giving me a challenging look that says ‘what are you going to do about it?’

She gently pushes Dex down onto the bed; it’s obvious she wants him inside her again, and she straddles him, reaching back with a manicured hand, to press his massive erection between her well-upholstered buttocks and swollen labia. John has positioned himself next to her face, and she takes him hungrily into her mouth once more. “Ahh, that’s it. Suck me, slut.”

He has a hand on the back of her head, as if she needs encouragement! Her lips form a lovely, full pout, and she grips his veiny shaft loosely, allowing her only the minimum of control over the depth to which he fucks her mouth, just the way she likes it. She loves to submit to them completely in front of me, knowing how I delight in seeing her objectified for their pleasure.

She needs Dex in her arse right now, she tells him, and he obliges, holding his rampant, steel-hard pole vertical for her. Smeared in her saliva and cunt juice, his glistening head, despite its girth, penetrating her ready-loosened anus easily.

She moans as anal lust overcomes her. She knows they are permanently stretching her, and she doesn’t care. In fact, we have discussed this and it’s what Paula actually wants, for them to make their mark on her. She is even thinking of getting herself tattooed with a suitably degrading slogan, along the lines of ‘white treat for black meat…’

She frowns, gasps and sweats, almost sobbing with lust as she rides Dex’s cock. In the brief moments when John allows her to breathe, she manages to gasp filthy words to me. “Oh god *gasp* see what I’ve turned into? *gasp* I’m a fucking blonde cockslut… Oh god, this is fucking delicious…”

The words are meant for me, but they have the desired effect on John, too; he’s breathing loudly, holding a handful of Paula’s blond hair, and thrusting in and out of her wet mouth with a seemingly impossible amount of his big, gnarled, chocolate-brown length. “Suck it, bitch… suck it, bitch…”

Paula’s hand and mouth slurp and smack with each thrust, and she lets out little stifled squeals as Dex really starts to anally pummel her.

“Are you watching…” is all she manages, before recoiling from the force of the first bolt of John’s spunk onto her face, splattering her cheek and top lip. She opens her mouth wide to accept the remainder, stroking, worshipping her lover’s magnificent black shaft with both hands.

She emits an extended ‘mmmmmmm…’ The proud, feline beauty of her heavily made-up eyes accentuated to perfection by her panting, semen-splashed mouth, and the proximity of John’s dripping, spent, 12” black cock. What wouldn’t I give to see a cosmetic advertisement in a women’s magazine, featuring this image….

Before she can relax, Dex starts to manhandle her, roughly; he flips her forward, seemingly without effort, and with his big hand on the back of her slender neck, pushes her sticky face into the pillows. “Lift your arse, bitch. Push back for me. Arch your back, that’s it, bitch…”

I experience wonderfully intense emotional pangs watching the scene, knowing that Paula wouldn’t be able to stop him, even if she wanted to.

She doesn’t. She lets out pathetic little yelps as he brutally assfucks her, using almost all of his enormous tool. Her big tits jiggle with every powerful thrust by her bull. I realise I don’t matter any more; this big, black guy owns her now, and her crushing femininity is finally getting what it deserves. Her yelps give way to sobs as Dex’s thrusts, and breathing, become deeper and slower. Presently, he grunts, and pushes his whole manhood inside her for several seconds. When he resumes, laughing gently with a ‘yeah…’ I see his brown shaft is coated with slimy, white spunk.

Paula is still face-down, making little whining noises, as her lovers laugh together and shake hands. They dress quickly and leave; on the way out, John grabs a beer from the fridge, and Dex shouts up that they may be back later, he’s not sure. I wave them out; they both have keys, anyway.

Back in the bedroom, Paula is stood up at the mirror, putting up her hair with a slide. A freshly lit cigarette is clamped between her teeth. She climbs back onto the bed, kneeling up with her stockinged legs to one side, supporting herself with one arm while she smokes hungrily.

“Oh god,” she giggles, like a schoolgirl. She still has semen around her mouth. “What a fucking man! God, I’ve never, ever, been fucked like that, before. Oh, wow…”

She piles up the pillows behind her, and sinks down into them. “Oh, baby, pleasure me, please…”

She parts her legs wide; the heat from her cunt is overwhelming, like it’s on fire. She takes out another Silk Cut, lighting it with the old one. After a session like this one, she will often chain smoke like this while I lick her out, finishing the job her lovers started. As she cums, she likes to ask, huskily “Did you enjoy watching those big, fucking black cocks spunking in your wife?”

Afterwards, as she smokes creamily with feline satisfaction, I take off my clothes and masturbate to completion as she watches me, thick jets of cum erupting from me in final release.

*
Paula is fairly sure her lovers will return later, and busies herself preparing for them. We bathe together, which is lovely. She lies back on my chest as I soap and sponge her chest, belly and pubic mound, kissing her neck and earlobes gently. “Oh, honey,” she coos, “that’s gorgeous…”

“No, you are gorgeous,” I reply. “Have you any idea how fantastic you looked today?”

She laughs and takes a sip of her wine. “Well, we’ve watched the videos enough times, haven’t we?”

I tell her I could never see them enough times, even if I watched them 24 hours a day. We kiss, lovingly, and I tell her how much I love her. She turns over, onto all fours, and lets her heavy breasts caress my face. She strokes my cock, briefly, and French kisses me, breaking off as I start to breathe deeply.

“Come on, baby,” she says with a sigh, and climbs out of the bath, putting on her robe. “I’m too much for one man, now…”

It’s true; she’s completely spoilt, sexually. She needs at least two men to gratify her, needs to be the centre of attention. She also needs really big cocks, which, fortunately, is exactly what she gets.

In the bedroom, she opens the bedside drawer and takes out her large, clear silicone butt plug, and a tube of KY, and hands them to me. “Help me, babe…”

She kneels on the bed, resting on the pillows with her folded arms. Her anus is nicely stretched from her activities earlier, but I apply some of the lube and carefully work the plug into her. It’s two and a half inches in diameter, but eventually she yields and it plops into her, making her gasp momentarily. How I wish I could make her gasp like that. The whole point of the plug is to keep her open and easy; it’s Friday evening, and her men may want to take her out and parade her around a bit. She could be fucked at any point, including in the car on the way into town, and likes her arse to be pre-stretched to offer the minimum of resistance to a big, black tool.

I help her up and she smiles, silkily. “Thanks, love…”

She slinks over to the dressing table, obviously enjoying the sensations from her back passage. She spreads a towel on her chair, and sits down carefully with a sigh as the toy penetrates her deeper. She commences that lovely, sensual, feminine ritual that any man who worships glamour finds so intoxicating- getting made up. She dries her hair, then ties it up and lights a cigarette. It burns in the ashtray as she applies her makeup, and dangles from her lips as she does her eye shadow and mascara. Finally, she coats her wide mouth in thick, red lipstick and blots it with a tissue. The finishing touch is gloss, which almost gives her mouth a life of it’s own, a plastic, gleaming presence, that seems to set in a permanent, semi-open pout as she dresses.

She’s going for ‘provocative,’ tonight, or rather, one of her many interpretations of it. She starts with a pair of sheer, natural hold-up stockings. I help her put on her corset, pulling the strings tight at the back to accentuate her curves. Her wonderful, bare breasts are pushed up above it. She pulls on a short, pleated skirt and black, suede platform heeled shoes. A short, fitted, pinstripe blazer covers her boobs and I wrap a leather choker with a single diamond around her fragrant neck, and that’s it. Hair down, in loose curls, no bra and no knickers. Her tits are outrageous, threatening to burst her buttons. She looks irresistible, her breasts jiggling as she clomps around the bedroom, chewing gum and smoking. I have to record this, and switch on the ever-present video camera, for a clip to post on Paula’s website.

Paula is eager to play to the cam. I watch through the viewfinder as she does her exaggerated catwalk to the end of the room, hands on hips and cigarette dangling; she turns, strutting back towards me, taking a huge drag and fixing me with a stare. She stops a couple of feet in front of me and blows a huge cloud of smoke into the camera.

“Hi,” she says with a bitchy smile. “Would you let your wife go out, dressed like this?”

She does a slow twirl, unbuttoning her jacket. “Corset… no bra…”

With her back to me, she leans slightly forward, straightens her legs and pushes out her bum, lifting the skirt slightly to display the lower half of her bare buttocks and the clearly-visible butt plug. “No knickers… fuck-me shoes…”

She turns back to the camera again, and takes another drag, winking slowly. “…dressed and made up like a slut.” Little puffs of smoke escape from her mouth as she talks; she exhales the rest at the ceiling.

“Maybe you would… but would you let her suck and fuck every black cock in town?”

Her hands are on her hips again, and she sways her shoulders just enough to animate her wonderful tits. She’s laughing, gorgeous. And she’s clearly enjoying putting on a show.

She moves closer to the cam, and in a hushed, conspiring tone says “well, luckily for us, my husband likes to watch me worship black cock! Come and see at Paula’s black lovers dot com!” She finishes by blowing a huge, giggling kiss, and I stop the camera.

As I put the camera down, she moves closer to me. The sheer force of her sexuality is overwhelming. “Did you enjoy that, babe? Show me how much. Wank off for me… now.”

She stands to my left side, her right arm around me. I’m naked, and the feel of her sheer stockings and silk corset is exquisite as she pushes her breasts against me. Her face is inches from mine, and she takes slow, deep drags on her cigarette, exhaling into my face with every one, never taking her eyes from mine.

“I worship black cock. You got that, bitch? They are my lovers, and you are my slut…”

(blush! Told you it was a bit dirty...)
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

Anybody want Pt4?
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

Hello

Yes yes part IV please

Meijer

Hell yes OpenMouth, please. Great story!

I'm sorry. I can't believe it but I wiped out the folder when I replaced my hard drive.

I'm going to have to rewrite part 4!

I'll make it even dirtier to compensate...

PS Glad you like it!
Hoping to one day see two big, black guys enjoying my beloved wife...

Can't wait for part 4! Great story!

Whre's Part IV? any luck so far?