Prologue

If your house is burning down, do you want to watch? She wasn’t cheating; I have a lot to complain about, but Luisa was never a liar or a cheater. She didn’t know I was watching, so maybe I was the cheater. He wasn’t the one we were looking for. He was healthy, young, good looking; a pretty sexy guy. Too young for Luisa, he wasn’t the guy who could take care of her. We needed a guy with a house at least, she deserved that.

First though, we needed to burn it down; destroy what little was left of our marriage.

Yeah, you want to know about the sex part; ok.

My wife was 44, thin, great legs, tight ass, great hair, sexy. She was sitting on the edge of our bed, looking into his eyes, his big dark hand was on her thin white shoulder, and their faces got closer.

My heart screamed; “DO IT, NO DON’T DO IT!” but it wasn’t up to me. She did what she wanted, she always had. We’d been monogamous because Luisa had wanted to be monogamous. We were separating because she wanted to separate, and I couldn’t blame her for that.

I needed it too; needed to watch this hot young guy to make love with my wife, so that I could move on. When I saw it with my own eyes, then I’d have to face reality. It was over, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Her pretty face met his; she was white, very white, and he was quite black. Well, brown to be precise, a young African American man. And they kissed; just their lips in soft experimental contact, both waiting to find out how that would feel. Her hands were on his hips, his on her face. Her fingers slipped under his waistband, circling forbidden territory.

My heart roared, burned, my mind was numb, and my cock was hard. I thought of his penis entering her, how she would react...

Wait; why was my cock hard? Surely, I wasn’t sexually excited by this? Was I the kind of guy who wanted to watch another man fuck his wife? Yeah, it turns out I am.

Ok, I need to explain how we got here. I’ll try to be quick.

To end a marriage, Part 1; My wife takes a young black lover, and I secretly watch.

The day started out like most others.

I got up first, made coffee, and then Luisa and I had it in bed.

The coffee that is. We hadn’t had more than that for a while.

We sat in silence, ignoring each other and our mutual animosity.

I cleaned myself up, shaved, and went out to open the shop. Sometimes we got an early morning customer, and the way things were, any dollar was a good dollar.

We went through our normal routine in silence, like we always did after a really big fight. But this one had gone too far; she had said things to me that were so nasty, I couldn’t see how it could ever be put right. This time, we were through.

There were no clients, so I sat down and had breakfast at the table in the salon. Luisa came and joined me.

Normally after a big argument [we had a lot of them], I’d be glad when the ice finally melted. This time it was different; I was still mad.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I said some things that never should be said to anyone.”

The cloud above my head lifted just slightly. Shit, I couldn’t believe what a soft touch I was.

“But,” she continued, “It’s all true, Nick. I was only telling the truth.”

Now, truth is good, right? You can’t blame someone for that, can you?

It was what I loved about her. Her often brutal honesty, her virtual inability to hold a lie; but this wasn’t about truth, it was about maliciousness.

“You’re the worst lover ever!” is what she’d yelled at me, “I haven’t had an orgasm in ten years! The ten second fuck, what good is that to anyone?”

When we did do it, it was pretty bad. I admit it. It hadn’t always been like that. When we were first together, we’d come together, it was good. But after a while she needed a bit more time, and I didn’t. I tried to hold back; and never could. We hadn’t talked about it, so it had festered, rotted away our relationship. It was too late, too late for solutions. It had gone too far.

“All those years of terrible sex, when I could have had any man I wanted. I stayed with you, even though you’re completely useless in bed!” she’d continued.

I glowered at her, but as usual, kept my mouth shut. It was a defense I’d learned through the years. There was nothing I could say that would penetrate her shell of self-righteous anger.

I could have said it’s not just me; she was terrible in bed too. Luisa didn’t like love-making, she just liked to fuck. When I kissed and stroked her, she brushed me away. “Stop that, it tickles.” She’d say. She didn’t like me to go down on her either, she said I was no good at it and my teeth had hurt her once.

She just wanted me to put it in and fuck her; and I couldn’t. I always came after a minute. Always. She started rejecting my advances; finally, I’d stopped trying to initiate sex at all.

“You should be begging me for sex.” She said, “Any real man would do anything for it, but you don’t care!”

Now I was really pissed; “You can forget about sex with me.” I’d told her, “We’re never going to have sex again. If you want sex, you’ll have to find someone else.”

It was her turn to look shocked and hurt. I was sort of surprised, I’d thought she was the one who didn’t want it.

“Well what did you expect after the things you told me?” I asked.

I wanted to leave her; it wasn’t simple though. We’d been together for 25 years, since Luisa was nineteen and I was twenty.

It was the depth of the 2009 economic crisis. We hardly had any equity in the building. The two of us worked all hours just to get by, and lived together in the one room behind the salon. Neither of us had anywhere we could go; she wasn’t on speaking terms with her parents and mine were long dead. As long as we kept working together, we could keep or heads above water. I would finish rebuilding the apartment upstairs, we would live ok.

Separately, each of us would have to work for others. We’d each have to live in rented places, with roommates most likely; that would be ok if we were still in our 20’s. The future didn’t look very pretty for either of us.

We were too dependent on each other; she cooked, cleaned, washed, folded. I couldn’t cook anything more difficult that eggs, and when I folded the clothes it took ages and came out wrinkled. Luisa had style and good taste, which I lacked.

I did the maintenance, construction, accounts, and anything remotely technical. Luisa was very dyslexic, she didn’t even know how to drive or set up an email account. She couldn’t do her own taxes or banking. How could I ever leave her? She’d become totally dependent on me. And despite everything, I still loved her. Not as a wife maybe; 25 years of shared experience doesn’t just disappear.

And then I had the epiphany; it was so obvious! I just needed to get her someone else who could take care of her; that she would be happy with. After all, her needs weren’t difficult for most people, and my wife was still a desirable woman.

I knew her so well, I knew how her head worked. She was totally emotional, she made her decisions from the gut. Or perhaps from another organ located just a bit lower down...

“How can you say something like that?” she’d lamented, “I thought you loved me!”

“I do, baby.” I told her truthfully, “But look how frustrated you are. Maybe you just need to be with someone else once or twice, you know, just to feel ok.”

“And you would be ok with that?” she asked skeptically, still angry.

“If that’s what it takes to make you happy.” I said slyly.

Like I said, I knew her. If she had good sex with another man, she’d soon fall for him. And I knew almost anyone would fall for her; and it wasn’t just her looks. My wife was irresistible on many levels. We could both move on and possibly remain friends.

“You’d be too jealous.” She declared in her “know it all” voice. “You’d never be able to handle it.”

“I can handle it.” I boasted. “Just try me.”

“I just might!” she replied, “Then you’ll know what happens to men who don’t look after their women!”

Afterwards, when I’d had time to cool off, I was sure the whole idea was idiotic. Luisa would never do something like that. She glowered at me in confirmation.

Later in the morning, Monica came in for her weekly set and perm. I got to work; she was an old friend, and a rock solid regular customer. She had great hair, largely thanks to my weekly care. A perfect crown of natural looking red, glorious and free of loose ends or thin spots.

“How are you Nick, how’s Luisa?” she asked.

“We’re fighting.” I said, “I think it’s over.”

“You always think it’s over, then you two are back together again after a day or two.” She pointed out.

“That’s true.” I admitted, “But things went farther this time.”

“I think you’re such a good couple.” She said, “So perfectly suited for each other.”

A young black guy came in; I’d seen him around for years, but he’d never come into the salon before. He had long thick dreadlocks. Yes, he was the guy who was going to fuck my wife, but no one knew that yet.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” I asked. There wasn’t much anyone could do with those dreads.

“Yeah, uh...” he seemed nervous. “I got like, a job interview this afternoon.” He said.

“Yes.” I prompted him as Luisa came into the shop from outside, carrying some shopping.

“It’s like, a big thing.” He said, “I’m thinking maybe I need a better look.”

Luisa, Monica, and I all looked at the kid.

“How old are you?” Monica asked from her chair, her head wrapped in plastic. I should mention, Monica has a sort of sexy edgy voice with a trace of German in it.

“Eighteen.” He said, “I’ve been working on an open source project with some dudes online, and it went real good. Now some company wants to interview me for a job.”

“So you need to look straight.” Luisa said.

“Yeah, you got it.” He said, bobbing his head.

“Take a seat.” Luisa told him, “There’s nothing I can do except cut them off. You know that, right?”

“I’ve been growing them my whole life.” He griped.

“Look, I guess this is a big opportunity for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You need confidence.” Luisa said, getting too involved like always. “New clean clothes and good hair. Now sit back while I cut these things away. What’s your name?”

“Darien.” He said.

Luisa could cut through shit faster than she could cut through hair. She might be useless at practical things, the very things I was so good at; but when it came to human interaction, emotional stuff, she was a star.

I got back to Monica as Luisa pulled on her apron and started clipping.

“The hair below the dreads is really rough.” Luisa told him as the ropes of matted hair fell to the floor, “You know what I think? Shave it.”

“Shave my head?” he asked.

“Dignified yet cool.” She told him, “I think it would be really sexy too. It will grow out again soon, and then you’ll have lots of options.”

“Ok, go for it.” He agreed after a bit more flirtatious persuasion.

They chatted and flirted, as we always did with customers; was it different this time? Was there just a touch more promise than normal? Luisa caught my eye and raised one eyebrow at me in some sort of signal. I really didn’t know what she wanted from me, so I just smiled and nodded as she paid attention to her young customer.

I took Monica to the sink for her second rinse as Luisa carefully shaved Darien’s head.

My hands were busy with the older lady’s hair, but my eyes kept flicking to Luisa’s left hand stroking the kid’s head. It was kind of sexy; her pale hand and her nails pink, so sensitive as she stroked his dark chocolate dome, feeling for stubble. My wife looked at me and again raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Again, I nodded my agreement, thinking she wanted approval after shaving his head.

“How’s the upstairs apartment coming along? Monica asked as I began to dry her.

Luisa was stroking the smooth dark skull with the fingers of both hands as she smiled at the handsome boy through the mirror. Smiling just a bit too widely, excitedly perhaps.

“Slow.” I said to Monica, “I’m basically stopped until we can save up for more building material.”

The noise of the drier stopped further conversation between us for a few minutes. Luisa stood close behind Darien, perhaps the back of his head was against her chest. She stood rigidly, her fingers traced over his forehead and, just once, down his cheeks and neck. That was when I realized she was actually going for it. My sexy wife was making her move.

She bent down and said something into his ear and he smiled broadly. My heart did a loop; I wanted this to happen I reminded myself, so why was I suddenly filled with dread?

Darien stood up and brushed himself off. Luisa smiled up at him; even in her heels, he was taller.

“Well, I think you look wonderful.” Luisa said to him. “What do you think, Nick?” she asked, glancing at me.

“Absolutely.” I agreed, my words sounding unfamiliar, as if someone else had said them.

Luisa looked at me slightly shocked. “Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really.” I confirmed.

“Well ok then.” She said to me, before turning to Darien.

“Would you like to come through to the back for some coffee?” she asked him, slightly nervously.

I froze; what had I done? Should I try and stop it? Fuck, fuck, fuck...

The kid hesitated; she was twice his age, but one hot woman. Was she really propositioning him?

Luisa was tall and slim, with an ass as tight and round as a 10 year old’s. Her hair was gleaming blond, as perfect as only I could make it. She had big brown eyes that could pierce a man’s soul, eyes so dangerous, they should be banned.

“Sure.” The young man said, trying to sound casual.

I felt several very powerful and conflicting emotions.

He was healthy, young, good looking, and black ... I don’t know why the color mattered, but it did. What if she did it ... really did it? I was terrified and elated. My wife and the young black stud ... then she’d get what she needed all right. He probably had a huge cock, he’d give her the fucking she craved.