Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Cheating, Wife Watching, Humiliation, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, Masturbation, Petting,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A loving husband tries to persuade his beautiful black wife into cheating on him with white men.
Never waste jealousy on a real man:,
it is the imaginary man that supplants us all in the long run.
George Bernard Shaw
"Hmmm?" I sighed, resting my head on my husband's chest with his left arm cradling me.
"Do you ever think about, uh ... trying something different?" Richard asked softly.
"Different?" I stroked his semi-hard cock like it was a kitten.
I loved it when Richard's penis was like that, not soft, not erect, but somewhere in between. Thick and black and warm, with his velvet skin moving easily over the curved muscle beneath. He's a handsome man and his cock is a nice one, a good six inches just then and later it would be eight probably, or maybe even a little more. I resisted the urge to measure it, what was the point? I know he's big.
"Yeah. I mean, do you ever wonder what it would be like to..." He paused and that wasn't like my new husband, being nervous.
We'd been married all of four months and I was enjoying it a lot. We were still newlyweds and acting like it.
"To ... what?" I giggled softly, moving my hand a little lower to feel his big balls. Richard had plum sized balls in a soft brown sack, heavy with sperm. "Do you want to try anal sex or something?"
"That might hurt." I looked up at him by the light of our bedside lamps, wrinkling my nose.
"Yeah, I mean ... No, I don't mean that." Richard smiled, his dark brown eyes looking into mine.
"Well..." I giggled again, feeling his cock stirring, flexing with renewed strength under my attention.
"What would you think abut having sex with someone else?" he finally asked and I blinked at him, not expecting that.
"You mean ... what?" I smiled, feeling a little confused. "You want a threesome? Another girl or something?"
I'd read in some magazine, Cosmo probably, that most men fantasized about that, but I hadn't really imagined Richard that way. He always seemed so ... normal. So straight laced and simple in our sex, practical even, the way he was at everything he did. A threesome would be a little weird, since I'm not bisexual at all. Richard wasn't bisexual, was he? No, I shook my head inwardly; that was ridiculous.
"A friend of mine, a guy I work with..." Richard was looking up now, avoiding my eyes maybe. "Do you remember last month when I went to that convention?"
"In Kansas City?" I shrugged. "Yeah."
"Well, we shared a room, you know, for the weekend and..."
"You and him ... you..." I swallowed hard, unable to believe what I was hearing.
"What?" Richard looked at me again and he didn't know what I was thinking. "We shared a room, yeah. Anyway, we got a little drunk and just wanted to stay out of trouble, you know? Being married and all." He was grinning at me.
"What did you do?" I asked slowly, trying to keep my voice calm, but knowing he was going to tell me he'd tried sex with another man and...
"He told me he was into wife swapping." Richard cleared his throat. "Him and his wife, they ... Well, they like to try other partners, see? They like it and they've always been attracted to ... What?"
"Huh?" I was smiling and relieved and I guess it was obvious, but I was hardly registering the meaning of what Richard was saying, only the happy fact that he wasn't turning gay.
"Anyway, they always enjoyed swapping with black couples and we were a little drunk, and ... so we had our laptops and..." Richard laughed nervously.
"What?" I was catching up, sort of. "Swapping? Like ... trading places? His wife and ... me?"
"Yeah, exactly," Richard nodded. "Um, Dan gets you and I get Amy."
"Amy?" I stared at him. "Dan?"
"Yeah, that's their names. Dan and Amy," Richard said. "We were checking out our pictures, you know..."
"I don't know." I was pushing myself away slightly, forgetting everything else and just trying to understand.
"The ones on my laptop, you've seen them," Richard prompted me. "Remember?"
"My pictures?" I gave a little gasp. "The naked ones?"
"Well, yeah, I showed him all of them," Richard admitted. "I was a little drunk..."
"You told me no one would ever see those!" I felt a vague sense of embarrassment fill me.
"He was showing me pictures of Amy," Richard said. "I mean, they were a lot more..."
"A lot more what?" I narrowed my eyes.
"Well, Dan had a lot of pictures of her with other men, you know?" Richard shrugged.
"What?" I pulled my long black hair back, tying it into a loose knot. "What are you saying, what's the punch line here?"
"Punch line?" Richard chuckled. "Um, they're a good looking couple, Amber. Dan is a good looking guy and Amy ... I mean for a white girl, she's pretty hot."
"She's hot." I swallowed hard.
"And they like us. I mean, Dan does anyway, and he's pretty sure Amy will be happy with me." Richard laughed self-consciously. "And Dan ... he fell in love with you, I think. He liked your pictures a lot."
"You want to have sex with a white woman?" I smiled unhappily, like it was a bad joke. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I mean, I didn't like the idea, but I was really confused about how I should feel about my husband right then.
"Well ... yeah, Amber." Richard didn't get it and he smiled back. "But mostly I'd really, uh ... I'd like to see you with a white guy. I mean, more than anything else, that's the part that ... that turns me on."
"You want me to have sex with a white guy." I nodded slowly. "And you want to watch?"
"Yeah," Richard grinned. "That would be so hot, Amber."
"I ... I have to think about it, okay?" I told him slowly, laying down on my side of the bed and rolling over, away from him.
"Amber..." He was reaching for my hip.
"Just ... don't..." I shook my head against my pillow. "Let me think. Let me sleep on it."
"Okay," Richard sighed, but he knew better than to push me. I had a pretty even temper and if he was patient everything was under control. But when I was on the edge like that, Richard had learned the hard way not to give me a push. I needed time.
"Where did you get this?" I asked Richard, a few days after his strange suggestion. We hadn't spoken of it at all, but it was still there, sleeping restlessly between us.
"Dan gave it to me," Richard said carefully. "Or let me borrow it anyway."
"Oh," I said, watching the television in our bedroom, staring at an attractive black woman having sex with a good looking white man. What drew my attention was that his cock seemed impossibly large, bigger than my husband's certainly, but I guess that's why he was making movies.
It was some interracial porn video, about four hours long or something, with every black and white combination I could imagine and some I couldn't. Richard had the remote and we were just watching the scenes with white men and black women. We'd just watched one with three white guys and one girl, a small black girl who had taken all three white cocks in all three of her holes at the same time. I'd watched five minutes of it before asking Richard to find something else.
This was more my speed, one man and one woman, but a white guy ... Why did he have to be white? I wasn't prejudiced, I didn't think, but I'd never wanted to be with a white guy. I'm black. I'm attractive and young and healthy, and black. I like being black. I like black men. Having sex with a white man, that was like ... I don't know. It felt like a betrayal almost. What would my parents think? What would my friends think if they knew I'd let a white man do ... that to me?
"Don't you think that's sexy, Amber?" Richard was close to me as I lay sideways on the bed, near the foot of it on my left side.
I could feel him naked behind me, his smooth black body hot against mine. I wasn't wearing anything either, naked as the day I was born, and Richard was stroking my back and hips. His cock was hard and rubbing against the back of my thighs. He was moving slowly but deliberately, intent on bringing his cock to my pussy from behind. He loved seeing a black woman have sex with a white guy. My husband was getting off on that video and now he wanted me. He needed me to get off on it too. I realized that much at least. Richard needed my interest in what we were watching to bring him his orgasm and I felt his need like a suffocating blanket.
"Put on a condom," I said, feigning disinterest.
I didn't move while he fucked me a few minutes later, lifting my right leg slightly so he could gain access to my pussy from behind. I was wet, I couldn't deny that. I was aroused and his cock felt good splitting my tight sex, pressing inward slowly to make me groan softly and bite my bottom lip. I was very tight for him, but we'd only been making love a few months, since he'd taken my virginity on our wedding night. I was excited and confused and I was punishing myself, and Richard, by trying to deny it.
"Amber, I love you so much, baby," he was whispering in my ear, stroking his cock in and out of my pussy slowly.
Richard reached for my tits, large and firm and feeling swollen. My long black nipples were hard and burning and I winced with pleasure when Richard found them with his fingers. He knew what I liked, he knew how to play me and make me want it badly. I was moving then, despite myself, pushing my round, tight ass against him, rolling my narrow hips to stir that cock inside my clasping cunt.
On the screen, the black girl was taking that white cock into her mouth, sucking him all wet and sloppy after he'd fucked her in the ass. She was cleaning him up and jerking the guy off, working that big white prick for his sperm. I stared at the screen, feeling my own orgasm coming and wishing it wouldn't. Richard was making it so good for me, his long cock moving in and out slowly, sliding every inch of himself back and forth so I'd feel it. My hard little clit was rubbing that shaft, riding it with a joyous buzzing sensation that was making me tingle all over.
"You like that white cock?" he breathed into my ear. "Tell me ... Do you like seeing that white guy fuck that black girl?"
I didn't answer him. I was too busy cumming, my body jerking hard as Richard held me tight, rolling onto his back and bringing me with him so that I was lying on his chest, both of us facing the ceiling with my legs spread wide. He had one hand on my tits, mauling them the way I needed it, squeezing my black breasts under his big strong fingers. His other hand was on my clit now, and he knew I loved that as much as anything, the way he rubbed my pussy hard while he fucked me. I was cumming over and over, moaning loudly and shaking like a leaf. I was out of control, my cunt spasming around my husband's cock and my whole body burning with pleasure.
I turned my head blindly in the middle of my second orgasm, searching for Richard's mouth and kissing him awkwardly, mostly with just our tongues working in the humid air between us. He was going to cum soon and I groaned when I felt his cock pulling free of my sex, leaving my pussy aching with the sudden emptiness. He was working to tear that rubber off his cock and then he pressed it against my body, against the soft swell of my pubis. He was fucking me there, just sliding his cock over my skin, the shaft and head reaching across my tummy, and then shooting finally. Richard sprayed his hot semen across my belly and onto my heaving breasts, he was so excited by the video playing in front of us, by sharing it with me. He came long and hard, the last of his orgasm drooling into the thin tangle of matted pubic hair at the top of my slit.
"Don't get any inside me..." I breathed weakly, eyes closed and panting as I lay collapsed on Richard's big body.
"I won't," he agreed softly, rubbing his cock slowly around in the wet, sticky mess he'd left on my dark skin.
We wanted children someday, but not right then. I was ready, but Richard was serious about waiting until the time was right, until we had enough money saved, and a real house, and a new car, and ... I was frustrated by that, being nineteen and eager to feel my belly swollen with new life. Richard had convinced me though and so I knew he'd be careful. When I'd told him to put on a condom, that hadn't been to remind him of our birth control, but just to let him know he could fuck me. Richard wouldn't have forgotten.
"I'm a mess," I complained a few minutes later, moving carefully off of him.
"You're beautiful, Amber." Richard smiled, much happier now that we'd had sex.
"Get me a towel or something," I said, lying back down next to him.
I propped up my head on a pillow, looking at the television and seeing some black girl doing two guys, one black and one white. They were switching off, moving back and forth between her mouth and pussy, grinning and giving each other high fives. Porn was so stupid sometimes.
"Do you want me to be a slut?" I asked Richard and he was back with a warm, damp washcloth and a dry towel.
"What do you mean?" he asked, cleaning up his mess while I watched him. Richard was always considerate and the man gave me so little to complain about. I smiled at the amount of sperm he'd loosed on my tits and stomach. A few days without sex added up, I guessed.
"I mean this thing with white guys." I looked back at the television. "Do you want me to have sex with them? I mean not just your friend, but like ... other guys too?"
"Do you want to?" my husband asked and I giggled.
"Answer the question, Richard!" I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah." He swallowed hard and probably expected me to get mad again.
"Why?" I asked him.
"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "I just like the idea. I think about you, um ... flirting and letting white men ... use you."
"Use me?" I narrowed my eyes. "What does that mean? Use me?"
"I mean, they just have sex with you..." he shrugged.
"Like I don't have a choice, you mean?" I stared at him. "You want them to rape me?"
"No! God no ... I just mean they don't care if you're married, or even where they're at."
"So like ... what?" I laughed. "Public sex? You want me to flirt with white guys at a club or something? Get them all hot and fuck them in the bathroom or something?"
Richard didn't say anything but his cock was hard as a rock.
"That's it, huh?" I grinned. "This wife swapping thing, that's just an excuse for what you really want, isn't it?"
"Yeah." He licked his lips and nodded. "I'm sorry, Amber."
"Sorry for what?" I giggled. "You want a slut wife? You want me to cheat on you? With white guys?"
"Yeah," he agreed.
"You could get hurt doing that," I said slowly and I was having a hard time taking it seriously, but only because I knew I couldn't do it. I loved my husband. I'd spent my whole life waiting for one, saving myself just for him.
"No. I love you too much," Richard told me. "As long as you come home with me every night..."
"Then you don't care what I do anyplace else, huh?" I shook my head. "Poor Richard."
I didn't understand his desires at all. Why does a man enjoy that sort of thing? I know it's not uncommon, I've seen it too often in other places since then. In stories I've read, in articles and there are even websites devoted to it. Professional sites catering to men with the need to see their wives fuck around, and amateur sites where those same men post pictures of their wives, begging other men to express their desires and post their fantasies. I've explored it a lot, trying to understand why the man I love so much would want to share me with other men. With strangers. With white strangers.
I haven't found an answer and Richard can't tell me.
"Mmmm ... I'm not sure about this." I giggled nervously. We were in our car, parked across the street from an adult video arcade. We were on the wrong side of the tracks. Black or not, we were a couple suburban yuppies and this was new for us.
"It'll be fun, come on." Richard was so excited he could hardly sit still, but I wasn't so sure.
"What if someone sees us?" I wondered, biting my lip. "Let's just go home, Richard."
"Amber ... please?" he asked me gently and it had taken a month to get me this far, to sit in the car outside the sleazy place. It was in an old building, with cheap neon lights and poster board taped to the windows.
A month of constant urging, whispered fantasies and promises made in the dark. Richard had been seducing me, wearing me down slowly and I wasn't sure I liked that very much. I suppose it was love. I could have gone my whole life knowing only one man physically, but I loved my husband and he was adamant with his desires. I was curious finally, not only to see if the reality would impress Richard as much as he hoped it would, but to see my own response. I had some small thrill of excitement, I confess. When Richard made love to me, filling our imaginations with visions of white men touching me. Kissing me. Fucking me. It didn't turn me off. Not anymore ... My husband had slowly piqued my interest, although I was loath to admit it.
"Okay." I cleared my throat. "You're sure they have those, um ... hole things?"
"Glory holes," Richard smiled. "I'm sure. It's perfect, you'll see."
"Alright." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before reaching for the handle of the door.
I was dressed sexy, like we were going to dinner and a nightclub, not a porn arcade. That was for Richard and I'd insisted he pick out the clothes, putting as much of the responsibility on his broad shoulders as I could. If something went wrong, if he didn't like what we were doing, I wanted him to accept the blame. He wasn't forcing me to do this, but it felt like it and I wanted to make sure he had no one to be angry with but himself.
"Hey." Richard stopped me with a soft hand on my arm before I could open the passanger door.
"What?" I looked at him in the dim light.
"I love you, Amber," he told me and I was torn between smiling and rolling my eyes.
"I love you too," I said and then we were getting out of the car.
My heels click-clacked on the pavement, three inch leather spikes that pushed me to nearly five foot ten. I was showing off a lot of leg in a tight white miniskirt and all of my tits beneath a low cut sweater, light blue and braless. It had been my cheerleading sweater just a year before and it was tight everywhere, leaving only the color of my nipples to the imagination. Not their size or shape though. My nipples were hard and pointed out obscenely and it was all I could do not to turn around and go home.
I felt like a whore.
My long black hair was loose around my heart shaped face. I'd put on a lot of lipstick, bright red with gloss over that. Not much else for makeup really. I didn't really need it, being still young enough and pretty enough to have my own allure. But those lips of mine ... I never wore lipstick like that and I could taste it, oily and wax-like. That had been Richard's choice as well and he wanted to see my soft red lips wrapped around a hard white cock.
The place was every bit as sleazy as I'd imagined it would be. This wasn't one of the new female-friendly adult shops that advertised in the local newspaper, this was old school misogyny. It was harshly lit and filled with rows of magazines and videos, graphic and obscene. The walls were filled with nothing but dildos and vibrators, pocket pussies and blow-up dolls. The place was stale and musky, smelling of old sperm, body odor, piss and more, all trying to hide beneath too much pine oil that made me want to sneeze.
I was in there for all of thirty seconds before I shook my head.
"No," I said and I shrank away from the unabashed stare of the guy working the counter.
He was old and scraggly, his hair unkempt and his double chins unshaved. The patrons were no better, those few I could see, and they seemed both attracted and repelled by my presence. A real woman frightened them, I thought, and I was a thing to their furtive eyes.
"Amber..." Richard watched me leave and then hurried after me.
"Not that place, Richard," I shook my head and I waited by the car while he unlocked it. "I feel like I need a bath."
"Okay," he said with a frown and my husband wasn't happy, but he wasn't going to argue.
I wondered if men really do see the world differently from women. It seemed so to me just then. What had my husband been thinking? Bringing his wife to a place like that, it was just ... wrong. He thought I was mad, of course, and we rode in silence for five minutes before I decided he didn't need to be punished for making a mistake. We were out of there and it was fine. I was fine. No harm done.
"What if..." I spoke up hesitantly and Richard glanced at me.
"What if I picked someplace?" I asked him. "I mean, uh ... we could just meet someone. Couldn't we?"
"Uhhh..." Richard narrowed his eyes.
"I know you wanted the anonymous hole in the wall thing," I giggled, letting some tension go. "But, maybe I'm just not ready for it, you know? That's kinda ... fast."
"Yeah, maybe," he nodded and offered me a hopeful smile, since I was the one bringing it up for a change.
"We could go to a club or a bar," I suggested. "You know, meet some guys and..." I cleared my throat because it was strange talking like this with my husband.
"You want to pick up a guy?" Richard asked me. "Like take him to a motel?"
"I don't know," I confessed and my heart was thumping. Not at the idea, but more because we were actually discussing it. It seemed wrong. "Do you?"
"I don't know either," he chuckled nervously and I laughed.
"We're really bad at this, aren't we?" I sighed. "God, Richard. I just don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," Richard told me. "I mean it. If, um ... yeah, okay."
He was nodding and he'd made up his mind. I didn't ask him where we were going and I wasn't really surprised when we went to a club called Notorious, which was a reasonable place for dancing and drinks. We'd been there before and it was mostly white, like much of the Twin Cities. It was also a serious meat market if you were looking for a one night stand. Richard had stayed close to me on our previous visits because I was young and attractive and a lot of guys noticed me.
I got carded at the door, but they carded everyone, and I had an ID to show. A good one that I'd paid fifty dollars for from a guy at the university who sold them. I was old enough to vote, to get married and have children, heck, I could even join the army if I wanted, but I couldn't get into a decent dance club without breaking the law. There's something wrong with that and so I felt no guilt over it. Neither did Richard, he thought it was pretty funny, but he was twenty-three anyway.
"What are you doing?" I smiled at Richard as he took my arm, walking with through the people milling near the entrance. It was crowded inside the club as we were off to a fashionably late start after our failure at the bookstore.
"Let's find a table," Richard said, smiling at me.
"You go to the bar." I lifted my eyebrows playfully. "I'm going to find a table."
"We're not going to sit together?" He licked his lips and I gave him a little look.
"Who's going to hit on me if I'm sitting with you?" I asked, looking my husband's healthy six foot three frame up and down. Richard wasn't a small man and being black had its own intimidating quality in a predominantly white club like Notorious.
"Oh." He cleared his throat and nodded. "I'll keep an eye on you, okay?"
"I know you will," I smiled and that was a big part of why I was willing to go along with him. Richard was going to keep me safe.
"Okay." He seemed reluctant and that was kind of amusing. "Do you want to take your rings off?"
"What?" I asked and then we had to move out of the way as another couple was coming in, squeezing past us in the club foyer.
Richard watched them enter the club before speaking. "Your wedding ring, are you going to wear it?"
"Of course." I stared at him, fingering it as if to make sure I was wearing it. "I'm never going to take it off, Richard."
"Okay." He actually smiled at that. "Do you think..."
"In this place? Nobody's going to care if I'm married," I giggled and I leaned close to kiss him. "You don't care, right?"
"I guess I don't," he blinked at that and I almost wondered if the thought had crossed his mind before.
"Okay, just ... Watch me," I sighed and my heart was really thumping now.