Chapter 2

The next morning Karen was up early. Her husband was still asleep and snoring quietly as she slipped into her thin, lace gown and went downstairs to the kitchen. After making some light breakfast the thirty-four year old brunette stood looking out through the window across the garden. Everything in the house was quiet but her heart was pounding like no tomorrow. Just what had she got herself into? Her own behaviour the previous evening was so shocking and out of character that she could hardly believe it. Seducing her step daughters black boyfriend was one thing but Tony had been a totally different person as well. Karen didn't consider herself naive. She knew she was good looking and she'd had partners before her husband. Yet why did she feel like a teenage girl in heat?

Taking the eighteen year old African boy to bed while her husband waited in the hall felt so wrong now but why did it feel so delicious at the same time? Was she really missing so much in her marriage. She'd felt in control beforehand, even confident but once the lad had taken over it had been all him. Karen enjoyed the feeling of being dominated over by an intense young man. He was well hung too and she remembered with a coy smile the size of his member and the sensation of being filled on taking him. Tony had been so different and seeing how much he had wanted her to sleep with Samba confused and worried her. What kind of man enjoyed his wife sleeping with other men? Not just any man but a potential future son-in-law. Did it make a difference that Louise was pregnant with Samba's child? Did it highlight how much Karen wanted a family and how secretly envious she was of her step-daughter. Just what kind of woman had she become? Despising Louise was one thing but this, well, now she was far worse.

Karen shut her eyes and took a deep, guilty breath. Remembering Samba's touch and his panting breath on her face as he vigorously made love to her. That beautiful black cock. It had been a long time since she had been bedded like that. So wonderfully fucked and satisfied. With a light whimper Karen realised she had been touching herself, her perfect manicured fingers upon her married slit. How was this ever going to work? Suddenly she felt someone behind her and turned, startled to see Samba leaning on the kitchen wall. Clearly he was not in the mood for sleep either and was grinning broadly, eyes roaming over her body and the pretty, night gown. Her first response was embarrassment, that she was dressed provocatively. Then, of course, he had seen her naked just the previous night. This was going to take some getting used too. Karen felt herself returning his look. Here she was, weak at the knees for a teenage, African boy. He was wearing a pair of shorts but stripped from the waist up, chest and abdomen were tight and muscled. The shorts revealed the outline of the long, thick shaft which had so dutifully rutted her the previous night. Karen gave him her back and felt him approach, hands sliding up under her gown and onto her heavy, full breasts. Right away, being touched by another man felt so deliciously wrong.

'I want you again', he said quietly in her ear, swelling quickly against her ass.

'I know', Karen sighed happily. His lips met her neck and she gasped, head back under his touch, trembling as his left hand moved down and under her night dress. Somehow having her family upstairs made it all the more exciting. Finding her wet he began to stroke and rub, enjoying how she let out lump gasps of pleasure as he did so. His cock was now stiff and warm against her outer thigh. She could feel his impatient need as he gently thrust it against her.

'Samba!', came Louise's tired call from upstairs 'Get me a cup of tea'. The moment was broken and the boy withdrew his hand. How she disliked her step-daughter. Karen put her arms around the boys neck and kissed him full on the mouth, their tongues pressed together.

'Later', she beamed.

That day Tony Walsh could hardly concentrate at work. He was almost in a stupor, staring blankly at his computer screen. What had happened to his marriage over the last twenty four hours was unbelievable and was definitely his own doing. Without him, Karen would never have strayed. He was certain of that. She was simply too proud and proper. Now Samba had begun the process of fucking all that away. Already there had been a change in his wife, as if something in her whole demeanour had altered. This was like a dream. That morning she had seemed distant and lost, saying that she planned to take a day off work and head into town with her friend Sharon for some shopping and lunch. Getting out of the house would be good for her as she was undoubtedly thinking about what her infidelity would mean for her marriage and their future together.

After an hour he gave up trying to concentrate and watched a couple of interracial, amateur movies in the privacy of his office. Watching white wives fuck black cock felt so erotic and satisfying. Being a member of a popular cuckold forum he carefully composed a message detailing what had occurred the previous night. There were immediate congratulations from other users. Tony had read such stories with fascination over the years and now here he was with one of his own. He wanted to share, to let others with similar interests know what he'd instigated. Without Karen's knowledge he had secretly taken some photos of her and Samba through the door. Tony was drawn back to the clearer shots of his wife on her back with her legs in the air, Samba looking down on her and thrusting dutifully with his hips. The white husband attached the photos to his message and within two hours had over one thousand views. She was out there now, a slut for all the world to see.

Later that afternoon Sharon and Karen met in their favourite coffee shop in town. They had been close since school and had few secrets from each other. Until now. Yet as her friend chatted eagerly to her about the holiday she and her family had planned later that year Karen's mind was still miles away. Everything seemed so normal but how could it be. Desperate to confide in someone how could she possibly tell Sharon about her affair and the role Tony had played? That rather than feeling guilty like any normal woman, Karen felt positively electric. All she could think of was huge, black cock and Samba's touch in the kitchen that morning. The wonderful evening they had spent together in bed. She wanted him inside her again and the sudden thought made her flush and shift uncomfortably in her seat.

As usual for their shopping trips both women were stylishly but casually dressed. Karen wore tight fitting, designer jeans, loose neck white jumper with her dark hair tied in clips to both sides. She had brown, heeled leather boots on, a jacket and a Gucci handbag.

'Are you alright Hon?', Sharon asked at last, unaware how moist her best friends knickers had just become. 'You don't seem yourself today'. Although Karen ran two hair salons in town Sharon had married a rich accountant and had two young children of her own. It was that last part of her life that she most envied. Family and togetherness.

'It's nothing, just a bit under the weather', Karen replied hesitantly. She had been asking Tony to father her first child for years, yet just last night she had offered the opportunity to Samba. Did she really mean it? They had not used protection and a sudden urge to visit the chemist for a 'morning after' pill became her. What of her friends? Of Louise? Karen bit her lip and drew another concerned look from Sharon.

Part of her wished she had stayed at home, waved Louise off then taken her boyfriend back to her bed for more of the same. As if somehow reading her thoughts her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket with the arrival of a new message. Karen took it out. It was Tony.

'My lovely whore wife' it read. 'How are you feeling today?'. Curling her lip into a smile Karen tapped the keys. He had never referred to her like that but why wasn't she upset?

'Is Louise at home?', she replied quickly and waited until the phone buzzed again.

'Yes. In all day'. Shutting her eyes Karen swore quietly to herself. There was no chance of any meet that morning. Across the table Sharon was still looking puzzled. Shrugging, Karen reassured her again that it was nothing and tried to get a mental grip of herself. If only she had Samba's mobile number. She really was acting like a teenager.

After two hours both women were carrying three shopping bags each. Karen's mood was up one moment and down the next as she struggled with a cocktail of new and exciting emotions. Her husband had sent her a string of text messages. He was enjoying this, revelling in her moral anguish but this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She needed to show him she was in charge. Both of her body and her own mind.

'Want to try in here?', Sharon asked looking at a large, new store front. The immediate interior was full of baby and toddler clothes, obviously aimed at young mothers. 'I could use a few things'. Karen felt her temperature rise, as if being around the baby clothes was not enough to remind of what she had said last night. 'A black baby. Brown, skin, curly hair!'. The words were still fresh. Fanning herself with a brochure she wondered towards the ladies department, leaving Sharon alone for a time. Then quickly found the underwear section and began wondering what Samba would like. 'This is crazy' she thought. 'I'm cracking up!'.

From a side entrance a man appeared. He was in his 40's with closely cropped hair and a beard. A worn, hardened face with dark, black skin. Karen's eye was drawn to him immediately and she quickly took in the blue overalls and trolley filled with mops, dusters and cans. He was much older than Samba, probably Uncle age but no less of a man. Handsome too. Karen watched him and felt her breathing grow heavy, her fingers tingle. She was virtually alone in the department. Without realising it she smiled and he looked up and returned it. For the briefest second his eyes scanned her body up and down. Karen's mouth went dry. Had he just checked her out? Samba's thick snake glinted in her mind and she found herself wandering if this man was as well equipped. Tony's phone message had been explicit. She was a whore for black dick after all. 'No. Don't even think it Karen!' she said firmly to herself. 'You can't start throwing yourself at every black man you see'. Glancing behind her Sharon was still nowhere to be seen and now Karen's hand was tight on the strap of her handbag, her body throbbing. She'd never felt like this in her life. So turned on and giddy, as if experiencing sexual attraction again for the first time. Now she was staring at him and he seemed confused by it. Understandably. Her life was a million miles from this man's. All she saw was his skin and the confident, leisurely way he held himself.

The janitor, whose name was Max, had been out for a cigarette. In truth he'd not been at the store long. It was a shitty job but it paid the rent and kept his ex-wife happy for the time being. As usual the place was mostly empty and with the manager away he didn't have to rush around like a fool. He'd seen the two women enter together and paid them little attention before going out for a smoke. One of them, a brunette was the better looking and had a well-kept, rich look about her. Now she was alone, looking at a selection of panties and bra's. With a grin Max wondered if she'd mind modelling a few pairs for him. She had dark hair, a crisp, classical face and a trim, shapely figure. Tight jeans always looked good on a woman and Max allowed himself a long stare at her lovely, firm ass. There was something about her, something unusual. If anything she seemed on edge. Then she looked over at him and he caught her eye. She turned back quickly, then looked again. Shifting his hands into his pockets Max felt his throat go dry. It seemed crazy at first but she definitely was checking him out too.

'Just being friendly', he told himself shaking his head. 'Don't get carried away'.

Their eyes met again and the woman pushed back her hair shyly. Max saw something there in her eyes and suddenly felt his big cock twitch into life. He'd never been with a white woman before, even if he'd thought about it a lot. His wife Chantella had always been enough for him. Through thick and thin she'd stood by him. The white shopper started to walk towards him. A really fine lady for sure. Proud and very attractive. Her clothes looked nice too. Max liked big tits and she obviously had a great rack.