Chapter 2

I awoke the next morning, and rubbed my face. My husband lay sleeping next to me, the day gloomy and stormy. The storm that created the situation I had with Tony’s boss was in full bloom, with periods of heavy, pelting rain, and periods of strong, gusting winds. The large droplets splattered against the sliding glass door, a patter that most would find relaxing. Me? I was anxious. The night before, Ron, Tony’s boss, had me on his bed, and plundered my body, as I willingly surrendered myself to him. It was a capitulation of the senses, and surprisingly easy. Between the delicious feel of Ron’s bed, the silky slipperiness of my own dress, and the erotic taboo of not only betraying my marital vows, but doing it with the aid of a black man, I had no will to resist it. Or him.

Tony had returned about fifteen minutes after Ron had finished filling my body with his semen, his lovemaking potent, and bareback. I had a strong, memorable climax, and it left me sated. So much so I had to deny Tony his marital prize, because I was a tad sore, as well as still leaking some of Ron from my core. On top of that, I was just not interested. To please him, I gave him a long, slow, savory tongue-lashing of his penis, suckling him until he exploded in my mouth. I teased him more by holding his ejaculate in my mouth, and then displaying it before I swallowed, then made a lewd display of my tongue, to show he was down my gullet. I had never done that before, but Tony commented on my being a lewd woman. He loved it!

So now it was the morning after. Physically, I felt better. But emotionally, I was a wreck. Ron held a large share of my thoughts. Bad, naughty thoughts. Being with him, being his conquest, being his victim. The images of his charcoal black cock penetrating my pink, pale body was still just hot. The risk of bareback sex was even hotter. My fingers slithered lower, and for a moment, I contemplated touching myself, only to stop when Tony stirred. He’d be awake, soon, and to find me in such a state would turn him on instantly, and I just wanted Ron more.

I knew I wanted to be with Ron again. Now. The problem was how? What excuse could I use to get separated from Tony to have a rendezvous? How long could I manage it? Would Ron want me again? Would I be intruding on another woman with him? I had to get out of bed and get my day started, or Tony would suspect something was distracting me. Something I would have a hard time explaining.

I did my Saturday normal routine. Cooked us breakfast, smiled and snuggled with Tony as we watched some TV, and then cleaned the house. Normal stuff, vacuuming, dusting, and so on, but it was interesting how things all had erotic connotations. Pushing and pulling the vacuum cleaner across the carpet was like Ron’s black cock gliding in and out of me. Dusting the furniture was like my small hand daintily sliding along his thick, smooth, veiny shaft, stroking it sexily. Hell, even watering the plants was his semen spilling into my vagina. All day long I was wet and wanting. And I was confused.

I love Tony. With all my heart. He’s my husband. So what’s wrong with me? What is it that makes me want to have made, passionate, fully-reproductive sex with another man? A black man? Was it me? Was it Tony? Was it Ron? Was it Ron’s bedroom? What about the kinkiness of fulfilling my satin fetish? What about the supposed stigma of interracial sex? Why was I having these urges? What was wrong with me???

The day lingered, and we got cleaned up ourselves. We showered together, which was steamy and hot, ending with me kneeling in the shower and suckling his cock until he couldn’t stand it any longer. I lewdly licked the tip of his cock as he came, and let his semen twirl around my tongue, as I looked up at him mischievously under my eyebrows. Swallowing him after the wanton display made me feel better. It reassured me that my husband still mattered to me, and that I still mattered to him. I didn’t have my own release, however. I got Tony off, well and good, and my own would have to wait. I figured I might indulge in a little fantasy ‘me’ time while Tony napped. After the shower, we snuggled in bed, and napped. My husband slept naked in bed, as usual, while I wore my white satin nightie. Tony needed to nap from his release, me from just wanting my time, but I couldn’t do it, not without waking my husband. I drifted off to sleep. He woke first, and jostling me as he darted out of bed. At first I didn’t know why, and then I heard his cell phone ringing. I glanced outside as the daylight faded, and was wondering how I was going to survive this night without Ron’s cock in me. The solution soon became obvious.

Tony came back in, smiling, and asked if I minded if he went to go play cards with a couple of our neighbors. Seems the guys had gotten their wives to let them have a boy’s poker night, and was it ok if I let him go, too? It took me less than a second to do the math. No Tony+ Alone time= Orgasm! I smiled and nodded, saying I wanted him to have fun, while in the back of my head, I knew I was going to. He dressed in jeans and a favorite t-shirt, closing the door behind him in less than five minutes. I rolled over onto my bedside, and opened my nightstand, pulling out BOB ... my Battery Operated Boyfriend.

Pulling down the covers, I slid to the center of the bed, my body sliding easily on our own silver satin sheets, the material a visual liquid to slip along. Then I pulled up just the top sheet, and encased myself in the cool, soothing, slippery material. I closed my eyes and twisted the end, and let BOB get to work.

I started with my legs closed, and my hand wandering my breasts, my nipples already hard from just the satin. I had a satin fetish and I had it bad. Maybe 90% of my wardrobe was satin. My blouses, skirts, dresses, even pants and jeans all were of the same silky dream material, and several were the same style, just in different colors. Then we had satin costumes for Halloween, or a couple of times when Tony and I would do some in-home role-play fun. The costume play could be a lot of fun, and Tony was pretty good at playing the villain, even being able to defile Batgirl, when I wore that costume one Halloween.

BOB invaded my thoughts, as he circled my vulva, and my lips parted to start taking deeper breaths. Ron now entered my mind. Tall, dark, mysterious, and handsome. He was naked, save for that same red satin men’s robe he wore. He approached me as my legs parted, and BOB began to caress my folds, as Ron took hold of my ankles and separated them, my voice moaning in a feline purr. The silky feel of satin sheets on my thighs giving me the same shivers as Ron’s fingertips caressing my inner-thighs. I wasn’t giving myself to Ron, Ron was taking me. BOB parted my petals, and Ron’s hot, black, throbbing cock was leaking pre-cum at my gate, and beginning to push inside me. Full, firm, and undeniable, he entered me, reaching farther than Tony ever would be able to. My hips undulated, and my toes curled as BOB rocked my body, Ron’s presence rocking my mind, until Ron and I came together, and I cried out in a climactic orgasm. I bore down so hard BOB slipped from my fingertips, and shot down between my legs, while my vagina spilled some of my own juices. I knew I’d have to change the sheets, but in that moment, I didn’t care. Ron had sated me. For the time being.

The time being lasted exactly 24 minutes. I got up, switched the sheets, and spread on our mint-green satin ones, remaking the bed. Tony never asked about such things, just took them for granted, and for once, I didn’t mind. But Ron was there, in my head, and it was as if he was beckoning me to him. I found myself brushing my hair, and putting on makeup, and getting ready to go out. Just a dab of perfume in three places, my neck, my cleavage, and my vulva. Just, you know ... in case something happened. In case Ron happened. I had a thought, and texted Tony...”Bored and wanna go out ... ok?”

He must’ve had a great hand, as his reply was simple... ‘k”. I smiled. Half my battle was won!

“So what to wear ... what to wear...” I softly mused, as I began to thumb through the wardrobe. I settled on a sheer chiffon blouse, crème in color, and my brown satin skirt. The skirt was long, and a full-circle in cut. I usually wore a slip with it, but not tonight. Tonight there would be no doubts to Ron about my intentions. I also skipped my usual heeled boots, and went with a pair of four-inch strappy sandals.

I decided I was going to throw myself at Ron. So no bra, just the two chest pockets of the blouse covering my nipples, and the thin, silky, airy satin covering my modesty. Nothing but the absolute minimum to look presentable and yet give the man full-access to me. I grabbed my purse and took a couple of steps outside, the weather cool, but refreshing, although it was windy. I turned, and felt the wind catch my skirt, filling it up, as the long hemline ballooned up, the soft satin rising until the air fell out, but not until the skirt had lifted to above my knees. It was dark out, so it wasn’t like anyone could see anything, but to be safe, and dry, I went back in and got a black long coat. Suitably covered, I got into my car and headed out, my Honda getting to on my way safely.

The weather, had, however, done a number on the roadways, and after a detour of an extra fifteen minutes, I finally made my way to Ron’s house. The skies were clear, and the moon was out, but if anything, the winds had picked up. A high-wind warning had been passed on the radio, and was expected to remain for the next 12 hours. I opened the door and got out, and felt the wind on my face, and decided ‘what the hell’, and ditched the coat back in the car, locking it. Tossing my keys in my purse, I made my way to Ron’s house, two doors down the street. My heels click-clacked crisply on the damp sidewalk, and the winds were alternating at trying to pull my skirt aside, and then up over my head. Twice in the space of maybe one hundred feet, my skirt blew up so high I couldn’t see, and I actually squealed. When I got my skirt back under control, I looked over and my heart sank as I began to realize that his house was dark. I stood there for a moment, almost stunned. No thought given to my skirt, my modesty, or anything. Damn! He wasn’t home!

I grimaced, the thought never actually crossing my mind that he might have had plans. I mean, it wasn’t like he was expecting me, or anything. I just expected him to be there. I sighed and turned, feeling the wind now at my other side, my skirt obediently following the wind’s pull, the sheer blouse conforming to the other side of my body, my nipples rock solid, and my body almost vibrating with adrenaline. I paused again, and felt a pebble between my sandal and my foot, so I leaned against the streetlight and as I fixed it, I had the sudden realization. I was standing under a streetlight and it was dark! The power was out!

With a renewed hope, I turned on my heel again and made my way to Ron’s house, stepping up his driveway to the walkway to his front door. As I did so, the wind was hitting the side of his house, and giving off a major updraft. Again the silky satin of my skirt was in my face, and my arms were flailing a bit to keep it deflated. Not from the thought of being seen, but simply because I needed to see. It took me several moments, standing at Ron’s door, to get my skirt more presentable, and then I knocked on his door. Having released one side of my skirt, I was back in battle to regain a sense of dignity when the door opened. A small laugh greeted my ears, as my skirt began to fall, now that the wind had a new path. As I could see again, I blushed, for there was Ron, standing there with a glass of wine, and wearing that same long, red satin robe. My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t talk.

“Why hello, Wendy!” Ron greeted me, after a long silence of awkwardness. “Please come in ... I am glad to see you.” His voice warmly welcomed me, and he stepped aside, my feet flowing him in, and my skirt finally falling, and staying, in place. The door shut behind me, and I turned to see him, my skirt swirling about my calves as I did so. I could see candles lit here and there, enough to see by. “My apologies for not being a great host, but the power is out, and has been for a couple of hours. I don’t know when it will come back.”

“I’m glad to see you, too!” I chirped.

He made no effort to hold his robe closed any further than what the sash did, and as he walked, I could see his bare, dark legs, and up to his thighs. My chest was heaving, long, slow, deep breaths, and my nipples were plainly showing. “So what brings you here, on this dark and stormy night?” Ron quipped. He ended his question by seating himself on the couch, at one end, crossing his leg, and letting his robe just hang down naturally. In the darkness, I thought I could see some of his manhood, though I tried not to stare.

I was unable to talk, which surprised me. This was not going how my mind imagined it. I flapped my lips a couple of times, with no words coming out. How does a married woman beg a man, a black man, and her husband’s boss, to fuck her stupid?

“I suppose we should talk about last night.” He offered. And his hand offered a seat on the couch next to him. My skirt swished softly as my heels clicked on the hardwood floor, and I seated myself, making sure to splay my skirt widely, the way a full skirt was supposed to be. I crossed my legs, at the ankles, and then looked to him.

“Ummm ... yes...” I finally managed to stammer out.