The Boarder
by Mary Not Wollstonecraft
Copyright© 2023 by Mary the Wollstonecraft Woman
Erotica Sex Story: In The Boarder, a husband sets up his wife for a romantic encounter with their new Boarder. It was TyQuan’s first session with a white married woman, or, for that matter, any woman. See what happens when a shy, virginal black college man finds himself seduced by a mature white woman. After installing hidden cameras, Blake Goldmann sets out to ensure his wife and their new renter have privacy. So that, Judith, can seduce the young man. The tensions build when Judith brings TyQuan coffee.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Interracial Black Male White Female Cream Pie First Oral Sex .
It was TyQuan’s first session with a white married woman.
Small College Town in the 1990s
My husband understood he was playing with fire when we solicited a boarder from the local college. When a young, black 18-year-old freshman man showed up at our door, asking about the space, my husband invited him to check out the room.
The boy, TyQuan Simpson, was tall, muscular, handsome, shy, and reserved. My husband pumped him for information, asking about the sport he played. “None,” TyQuan answered. What extracurricular activities he participated in, “Don’t do anything. I’m here to learn.”
Getting more personal, “What about girlfriends? Do you date a lot?”
“No, sir, don’t date at all. Like I told you, I’m here to learn.” His eyes darted to me every few seconds, and returned to my husband.
“Does the price include any meals?” TyQuan asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Breakfast is at 7:00 am, giving you plenty of time to make your first class. Evening meals will be at 7:00 pm. If you’re here around the noon hour, I’ll fix you lunch.”
“TyQuan,” my husband, Blake, said, “When do you want to move in?”
“Well, I’m staying in a motel,” TyQuan said. His eyes shifted around the room, locking on my eyes with momentary glances, returning his gaze to my husband or staring blankly at the floor or walls. “Today, if it’d be okay. I got the money for the first month.” He dug money out of his front pocket.
“Well, son, hang on to your money,” Blake said. “After all, the month doesn’t start until Monday, and classes don’t begin until the 17th. How about this first month is a get-to-know-each-other period? You hang on to your cash and pay us for September. Let’s say the first month and a few days are on us. You just help my wife around the house.”
TyQuan moved in, and the first week proceeded without incident. But the first weekend, well, that’s when my husband hatched his little scheme. Unknown to me, Blake had installed a hidden camera system in every room of the house. He made his excuse on Saturday morning of going to play two rounds of golf.
“Thirty-six holes of Golf?” I said.
“Yes, dear,” he said. Adding, “Entertain TyQuan and have some fun.”
I knew what Blake Goldman wanted, what he meant. He wanted me to have fun and seduce the young black man. The young man tripped two triggers at the same. He was in the magical age between 18 and 23, between hay and grass, not yet a man, no longer a boy. I certainly needed no encouragement. In truth, since he walked into my life, I obsessed over his swarthy skin, tall, muscular frame, large hands, and long thin fingers.
What I didn’t know was my husband only went as far as his workshop. Yeah, he had his new security system fried up and ready to. He installed the system while I was on a shopping spree. He’d be spying on us with 36-six cameras. That was his golf rounds.
And I know TyQuan liked me. The boy stared at my breasts all last night. Really, he’d been ogling my body since our first meeting. For my part, I teased him a bit. I started wearing low-cut tops around the house. Showing off my deep cleavage. Advertising myself as available. I’d drape myself over a chair and lean toward him.
The gorgeous black stud stared at me like an ice cream sundae. I could almost see the drool dripping from TyQuan’s mouth as he took in my voluptuous curves. His eyes were always peeking at my cleavage. His blue jeans always showed his appreciation.
My husband seemed oblivious to what happened as the boy’s eyes darted toward my husband. TyQuan would flash a smile, retreat coyly from the situation covering his crotch as he left the room. His flesh tones darkened when this happened.
Blake said he was an introvert, had kept himself out of trouble, and hadn’t been with many, or maybe any, girls. I asked how he knew this.
Blake said, “TyQuan told me. He’s never kissed a girl, much less done more.”
TyQuan’s skin had a smooth baby’s butt quality, full lips, and high cheekbones. His biceps and thigh muscles press hard against his clothing. TyQuan’s cologne was a clean, manly scent from a bottle with a nautical theme. We’d change that, some more expensive, something with more of a pleasant, enticing musk.
At night, standing outside his door, I listened to him masturbating. There was this sloshing and thumping. Whatever he used for lubrication had a sweet strawberry aroma. Muffled moans and groans escaped his lips, and in his enthusiasm, his bed squeaked and thumped.
I got so turned on that my fingers brushed over my nipples, my other hand buried inside my pants and panties, and I rubbed one out as he pounded away. When he got near the end, I’d hear the thumping of his headboard knocking on the wall. And that’s when my pussy clenched around my fingers, and I’d gush moisture.
Every time his cock swelled, I tingled and moistened. Much of the time, I could see his cock bulge through his jeans, an utterly lovely view. The bulge in his pants always caught my attention. Today, with permission given, was going to be the day.
At ten, I went to TyQuan’s door.
“Sweetie, would you like a fresh cup of coffee?” I asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Goldmann,” he said.
I opened the door and poked my head into the room. Grabbing his shirt, covering his massive chest. His cheeks darkened. He stood, turned his back, and pulled the t-shirt over his head. And turned back to me.
“I’ll be right out.”
“First, don’t be so shy. We’re in close quarters here. Everyone is going to see something of the other people at some point. Second, I’ll bring you the coffee. Oh, and third, call me Judith, okay.”
“I’ll try ... Judith,” he stammered.
“Okay, I’ll get us some coffee and be right back.” I stepped back into the hall.
“Judith,” he said.
Moving back inside the room. “Yes?”
“Y’all didn’t go to Synagogue today.”
“I went last night, but you wouldn’t know since you went to the movies with Blake. I’ll be right back, darling.”
His cheeks darkened again. TyQuan gazed at something behind. His crotch swelled up, giving me a lovely lump to admire. Turning away from him.
“I’ll be back soon. You stay there and relax while I brew a fresh pot.”
Every time I saw him, my eyes sought out the bulge in his pants. I could spot his pants bulging through his jeans, but his prick was usually nicely outlined inside his left leg. When his penis grew, the blue denim seemed as if it might rip to allow the shaft freedom. When he wore looser clothing, his rod bundled up front, plain sin.
In the past few days, the boy started wearing aftershave, Brut, or a Musk, a top-dollar scent he probably couldn’t afford. Perhaps, more than anything, the smell was muskiness pervading the air. His lust.
Quickly I changed into a low-cut minidress, complete with a plunging neckline, form-fitting and easy to remove. I wore no underthings. You see, I was going to pick his cherry and educate him on how to be an Adonis to match his appearance.
The dress fit tight, hugging my chest, hips, and thighs. The plunging neckline revealed cleavage, while the hemline fell to my very upper thighs. I put on some silver and gold bracelets, a pendant, and then some matching earrings, and I was good to go.
When I brought him his coffee, he still sat on the edge of the bed. Thinking about it, he seemed to be in a stupor, like a battle raged inside his brain. The thought occurred to me he had mixed emotions troubling him. Well, I’d settle his nerves and decide for him. Virgins are such fragile things.
“I’m back, baby,” I said, and he gazed at me. The longing in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
Yes, I’d caught TyQuan’s attention, and I smiled. With a dart of his eyes, his gaze shifted to the plunging neckline. When his eyes widened, the outline of his penis hardening beneath his jeans told me we would soon be intimate. Putting the two cups of coffee on his desk, I smoothed my hands over my breasts and hips.
“TyQuan, dear. How do you think I look?” I asked.
“You look fine,” he said.
“Honey, I mean, is there something wrong?”
“No, I like a woman who wears sexy clothes,” he said, smiling. “Just never saw a woman dressed like you up close afore. You’re a roasting hot woman. Blake’s a lucky man.”
“Yes, TyQuan, I’m a married woman,” I said.
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