Chapter 1

It was the height of another Summer and a cloud of thick, wilting smog hung over the city. In the third storey of an otherwise deserted office block Linda and Simon Anders awaited their appointment. The mood in the room was tense, made worse by the only partially open window and sticky flow of air from the heavy traffic below. Simon impatiently checked his watch over and over. They had seen no-one since arriving some two hours earlier and the thirty eight year old had a meeting at three which he would now have to miss. Why was there nobody to greet them? Was it all a hoax, an elaborate scheme? Yet why did Simon feel sure someone was watching from time to time. Their instructions, including directions to the venue had been delivered that very morning in the form of a typed welcome letter, the contents of which suggested attending promptly at the specified time and that a good impression was expected. Coffee had been left on the table as well as several magazines. It felt like a trial, a test of their commitment and willingness to join the Agency.

Beside her jittery husband Linda Anders leisurely thumbed through one of the magazines. Simon's awkwardness was a sweet if not attractive trait. They had been together nine years and with plenty of ups and down she knew him better than he knew himself. This was going to be more difficult for him even though it had been Simon's initial suggestion to write to the Agency. She would hold him to it, even if being there was a far cry from how she had envisaged her married life ending up. In the beginning Simon had been faithful but he was good looking and successful. Linda had to put up with much and now it was her turn. She saw the remorse on her husbands face now he realised what he had put her through. Maybe his instigating such a dramatic move as the Agency was based on a need to make it all right. Though as she looked over at her husband she saw the dark lust in his eyes and knew it wasn't just about appeasement. This was something Simon wanted to satisfy in himself and deep down, maybe she felt the same way.

Linda looked as stylish as ever and had, after reading the introductory letter for herself, spent a good few hours preparing for the meeting. It all felt exciting, new and even daring. The thirty-one year olds dark hair was swept up and down onto her slender shoulders, her designer, light blue dress clinging tightly around her full, bare thighs and leading up to a tight, trim waist. Linda had lovely breasts but was well brought up enough to know not to flaunt her assets liberally. Still, today was all about making an impression and her choice of outfit gave a excellent taster of her full, firm 34dd cleavage. She always made sure Simon kept her in the very best clothes, shoes and accessories. Matching duck-egg blue and equally expensive six inch heels went well with the dress. She looked up at him with inquisitive, penetrating eyes, the corner of her mouth curling into a smile upon realisation of how on edge her husband was. Enjoying his obvious discomfort.

A few more minutes past. Then the door opened and an elderly, grey haired, black gentleman came out. He was of medium height and remarkably well dressed in a non expensive but smart two-piece suit. A pair of gold rimmed spectacles balanced on his flat nose and a gold watch chain hung from his pocket. He was certainly not what Linda or Simon were expecting and they looked at each other, slightly confused.

'The Anders?', he said in a confident, well spoken manner that was more deep south than East coast.

'Yes', replied Simon, his voice a disparaging, hoarse quiver. 'We had an appointment at two o'clock'. The man, easily in his early seventies, squinted at his watch and nodded with amusement.

'Yes ... yes, you are right', he said. 'I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. I hope you'll understand. We like our potential members to show a certain ... tenacity before we take matters further. Come into my office and take a seat'.

The office was small but neat with several certificates and pictures hanging on the wall. One, directly above the large, wooden desk showed five Negro men with pickaxes and shovels. Below was marked '1958 - New York City'. One of them, Simon thought, bore an uncanny teenage resemblance to the old man seated before them. There were no windows but a small air conditioning unit, bookcase and file cabinet all of which appeared new. Most notable of all was a striking blonde woman, hair pinned back and wearing dark glasses who sat cross-legged beside the desk. The woman was writing intently upon a notepad as the Anders entered and looked up only briefly, her welcoming smile switching from Simon to Linda as if summarising them both in an instant. It was an act which Linda felt slightly disconcerting. She was a handsome woman sure enough, appearing to be in her mid-40's, well dressed in a smart but short grey suit, the skirt fitting well above the knee and showing off her stocking legs. Simon noted a wedding ring on her finger and how her shirt was unbutton low enough to reveal a black support bra. She certainly did not seem like a typical secretary.

The old man motioned towards two leather chairs with his hand. Linda and Simon had been to marriage counselling some years earlier and so far, the meeting had a similar, if perverse feel to it. The Agency operated, as far as Simon knew, through referral and word of mouth but had been around a long time. He'd heard they had representatives in several major cities. Crossing her legs Linda felt her dress rise up neatly around her full thighs, an act which somewhat surprisingly given his age, drew the old man's eye. It was shorter than she liked to wear but Simon had insisted. Besides, she was confident in her figure. Walking up to the cabinet the man took a file then handed it to his assistant. As she opened it Simon recognised the introductory letter he had written some weeks previously and waited while the two of them read through it quietly, glancing up intermittently while the Anders patiently waited. The open file contained several, respectable photographs of Linda, all of which were soon laid on the table before them, a copy of their marriage certificate, bank details and passports. The details had been requested before the meeting and with some encouragement from his wife, Simon had dutifully replied. It had been made clear beforehand that participation was subject to complying fully with the demands of the Agency.

'I'm Mr Randall', the man said at last, 'this is Mrs Lisa Andrews. She works with us from time to time'. The old man folded his hands across his waist and keenly eyed the well presented white couple in front of him. They obviously had money, the husband having worked in real estate for six years, while the wife had been born in England with an American father. Linda Anders had modelled somewhat in her teens was certainly quite a catch. She was extremely attractive with crisp, defined features. As she smiled amusingly back at him, confident and sure of herself, she reminded him of Lisa when they had first met. The beautiful woman studied him back across the desk. Certainly a different pose from her uncomfortable husband. Randall was used to that initial observation. It was obvious already to him that she was an upmarket and stylish woman. Her neat figure and trim waist led to splendid, shapely legs and a lovely cleavage that filled the front of her dress wonderfully. She had excellent initial potential but Randall liked to take his time with new clients, get to know them. It meant for more satisfaction with what came later.

Lisa looked up and smiled properly at the couple for the first time. Her blue eyes were remarkably piercing and particularly knowing, in a way that made Linda look coyly away as they locked onto her. Having another woman present was not what she had expected. Simon too, looked down, his mouth dry, hands clammy. He wondered if Lisa had once sat in the same chair his wife now resided.

'How can we help you today?', Randall said at last. Both husband and wife shifted and glanced at each other, the first time that Linda had looked truly apprehensive since stepping into the office.

'Well ... your letter mentioned total privacy... ', Simon stammered, clasping his hands. It was always hard for husbands to admit but Randall made sure they did. It was good to have it out in the open from the start.

'Discretion is part of our service Mr Anders' he replied assuredly. 'Everything you say here will be kept in the strictest confidence'.

'It's just that', Simon swallowed, 'It's absolutely imperative that nothing we say here... '.

'Stop it honey'. Linda put her hand on her husbands arm. 'Don't be rude. We're have to trust Mr Randall and Lisa. We have come to them after all'. Simon took a deep breath and sat forward in his chair.

'I'm sorry', he began. 'You're right honey'.

'It's quite all right Mr Anders', said Lisa, smiling. 'This can be a big step for many couples. Please go ahead'. The older woman seemed to ooze confidence and her manner impressed Linda. 'My own husband was exactly the same', she went on. 'But ... let's just say it worked out quite well for us in the end'.

'We're interested in... ', began Simon, 'black men ... for my wife'. Linda smiled and looked away as the old man grinned at her. He obviously enjoyed hearing the words out loud just as she did.

'I'm very glad to hear it', replied Randall. 'Your first time Mrs Anders?'. There was the same twisted smile on the old man's face, almost as if he enjoyed tormenting husbands. Linda pushed back her hair and nodded. She didn't feel intimidated, in fact, talking about it so openly at last was quite the thrill. She had no inhibitions about why she was here, beyond her family or friends finding out.

'Yes', she answered curtly, 'we've heard that black fucking is the best'.

'Oh it is I assure you', the senior added in all seriousness, 'and there's no need to be embarrassed Mr Anders. Lots of modern white men are offering their wives to Negro men'.

Simon played with his watch again. 'It feels like a big step ... but she seems so sure'.

'I am honey ... I feel like I need something new'. Linda re-crossed her legs. Just admitting her desires so openly was making her knickers wet. She enjoyed sex and had, with Simon's consent fucked several of his so-called friends. Unlike him, it didn't hurt her to be unfaithful. In fact, from the very first time she'd enjoyed every delicious, wicked second. She had dated other men too, men Simon had found through the net. Hotel rooms, bars, text messages from her horny Hubby. He loved to be cuckolded and she revelled in the desire and power if gave her. Over the last year Linda had spent the night with four other men at Simon's request, often in their bed at home. Never black men, at least not yet, although the inevitability had been building. So when Simon finally told her about the Agency there was only one answer she could give. New and daring was right and Linda Anders wanted to experience it all.

'About your men?', Simon asked. It was quite something to admit to himself that he wanted his wife black fucked, and looking over at her, his desire was matched only by a need to have her used hard like the married slut she was. That said, he needed to know who by and that, his fantasies aside, Linda would be in a safe environment.

'Also highly discreet I assure you', nodded Randall. 'Every one a true black bull, tested of course and very experienced in such matters'. Linda wondered what that actually meant and just how long Randall and Lisa had been running this 'wife fucking agency'. Just how many couples had sat in those two chairs. 'I must say' continued Randall proudly, 'that all the gentlemen on our books have a strong preference for white, married pussy Mr Anders'. The old mans eyes lingered on Linda's smooth, waxed thighs. Her big, firm tits. 'We would certainly be very interested in a couple like yourselves joining us. You need only ask Lisa here'.

Lisa smiled, folding her arms and re-crossing her legs. Her own cunt had been well used and stretched by black cock over the years.

'It's true. I came here with my husband Joseph eight years ago. I haven't looked back since. This agency was set up so that black men from all walks of life could have access to upmarket, white women. Women like you Linda'.

'It of course, works both ways', added Randall with a smile. The old man put out a hand and slid it down the blonde woman's thigh. She barely batted an eye as he touched her but such an open gesture of confidence made Linda's heart pound.

'Yes', smiled Lisa, 'I think you'll both make an excellent addition to our little club. We have bureau's all over the country. LA, New York, Miami. We even have a new, solid base down in Alabama'.

The Anders filled out the forms and Simon made the necessary payments. The contract was simple enough, like the many property exchanges that passed his desk each month. Except now, it wasn't land rights he was signing ownership too, it was his wife. All the forms he knew were a token, not legally binding but more a statement of intent and message. Signing Linda over to black cock was a sobering act and as he looked at her he knew she felt the same way. Initialling the base of the page he passed it to Linda and watched as she followed suit, signing her name neatly at the bottom. Finally, Randall took the contract and marked it too, closing the deal.

'For all extent and purposed your marriage, in fact your relationship belongs to the Agency. Congratulations', he said.

Mr Randall gave a long pause for it to sink in. He had a satisfied look on his face by this time, his gaze trained on Linda and no longer concealing the fact that he was eyeing her tits and legs. Despite the age difference he was a man of incredible stature and both the Anders initial opinion of him had changed dramatically over the course of the consultation. Reaching below his desk Randall took three glasses and poured them each a drink.

'You'll be making a base payment to the agency each month Simon', Lisa said. 'This is so we can operate and continue to recruit the most suitable men in the city. Our fees from the men are means tested on their income'.

'One may pay a single dollar, the next five or six hundred', added Randall. 'That way no promising men are excluded'.

'Oh, I'd wondered about that', Linda said. To her, the thought that some thug, or poor black man may not be able to fuck her was a serious disappointment. In fact she found the thought of being fucked by what would be considered lower class blacks to be the most arousing.

'What's this Mr Randall?'. Simon held up second blank contract, the paper and colour different from the rest.

'Oh, that's one of our popular extras'. The old man smiled and sipped his drink.

'Extras?'. The old man twisted in his chair.

'For if one of our ladies agrees to bare, unprotected fucking. The way nature intended', Lisa added with a wry smile.

'Goodness!'. Linda covered her mouth in surprise and astonishment. It was the first time she'd really been caught off guard. Somehow it was amazing to think there were women out there who could go 'all the way' like that. From the start, this had been about thrills and that was certainly a big one.

'Speaking of which', began Randall, 'now you are both members, we need to discuss your lovely wife's first... '.

'Black fucking', smiled Simon, grinning at his bride, his confidence returning, now that he had signed his wife away to the agency.

'Yes indeed'. The husband and wife held each others hand as the old man dictated terms.

'I think we need it sooner rather than later', Simon added seductively with a smile.

'Of course, and I understand that completely Mr Anders. I assure you new wives always attract the biggest interest but I'll need at least a week to circulate her details'.

Randall took the bareback contract and seeing the obvious interest on Linda's face laid it keenly in front of her. 'I'd like to add, that if your wife stops all her birth control today, and signs this form, our fees from future events will be less 50%'. Linda looked at her husband and the form, though in truth she had already decided. Fucking another man in front of Simon was going to be so satisfying, but this.

'A lot of couples like the added risk', Lisa added. Picking up the pen, Linda signed her name neatly on the contract, before an open-mouthed, shocked Simon could even utter a word to stop her.

'I can't believe I'm doing this', she smiled.

'Good ... good. Now you must make sure she keeps to her agreement Mr Anders. We are reliant upon your good sense of sport'.

'You don't need to worry about that', Simon said winking at his wife. 'I most certainly will'. He had accepted that his wife intended to experience this to its fullest, and made up his mind not to object in anyway.

'Very good. As of this moment you, Mrs. Anders are the property of the Agency'.

Eight days later Randall called the Anders home to tell them their first meet was scheduled for the primary Saturday in August and that it, as expected, would be attended by a healthy turn-out of black men for Linda's introduction. Simon had asked for men from poorer class backgrounds to be the first to screw his wife and was pleased to hear this would not be a problem. Linda's obvious class had been well mentioned in the Agencies advertisement and had drawn men to whom the appeal was greatest.

The old gentleman spoke to Linda personally on the phone, asking if she had kept to her agreement on contraceptives. She told him assuredly that Simon had, as a token gesture, been through the house and thrown away all her birth control and that she fully intended to comply. They had also not had sex since signing the contract. Cool and composed as Linda was, she was beginning to feel apprehensive about what lay ahead, particularly the intense and descriptive nature of events Randall foretold.

'I wonder if you would wear that same blue dress for the meet', Randall had suggested. 'It was ... very appropriate'.

The morning of the meet soon arrived. Linda and Simon Anders woke early and looked across the bed at each other in a mixture of excitement and foreboding. The lovely wife had been thinking about her black fucking a lot that week and what it would mean for her marriage and how she viewed herself. Not being able to tell anyone was also difficult but absolutely necessary. A lot of her friends would never entertain the idea of sleeping with a black or asian man and she was used to being in such closed minded circles. The majority, as per Simon request were from low, working class backgrounds. A bus driver and school janitor among them but Randall had told Simon of an 'unprecedented level of interest'. While not the sensitive type she knew what she was in for and despite her cravings had the odd bout of regret. Maybe she was too-good for black cock? Happily these doubts only lasted short periods and Linda was going to get fully what was coming to her.

She showered and drove with Simon to have her hair and nails done at a prize Salon in town. It was one of her usual haunts and the young stylist Katie chatted away nonsensically, just as if it was any other day. Linda remained mostly silent, letting the tension within her body build. There was no backing out and she wanted it to happen in a way that made her feel nasty and sexy at the same time. She had, it had to be said, limited contact with black men outside her imagination. Afterwards they had lunch, just like any loving couple. Simon admired how good his wife looked, how poised and upmarket she seemed. All the while holding her obvious nerves down. Checking his watch he noted the time. In three hours the white woman opposite him would be a cum dump for a group of overly horny black men. It seemed incredible and maybe even unbelievable. All it had taken was the will to make it happen.

The Anders headed home for Linda to get ready. She dressed herself in the blue designer label that Mr Randall had liked. It showed the tops of her full, waxed thighs, clinging tightly between them in a way that felt so sexy and risqué. For a while she contemplated whether to wear any knickers then opted for a lacy pair that felt damp against her pussy as soon as she put them on. Linda needed to be fucked badly. She checked her face in the bedroom mirror, applying a little mascara and dark red lipstick before putting on some silver earrings, an ankle chain and slim locket that had been Simon's anniversary present to her the previous weekend. Smiling wickedly and admiring the full result she stepped into the 6", blue high heels, put a few things in her favourite handbag and went out to where Simon was already waiting in the car.

The couple drove to the meeting place; a sleazy motel close to the cities most sizeable Ghetto. Mr Randall has assured them that most of the men came from the surrounding area and that this was the twelfth time the Agency had used the motel for wife fucking. The owner, Dylan, would in fact be one of the days participants and the first to sign up after seeing Linda's photograph. Randall was already waiting for the Anders as they pulled off the freeway right into the parking lot. As before, he was well dressed in a smart suit, shirt and tie, trying his best to stay out of the hot sun. His gold reamed glasses glinting, hiding a big, patent grin.

'Well this is it honey', smiled Simon as the old man watched them. The air felt sticky with the nearby traffic and Linda's heart was pounding through her chest. Her husband got out, walked around and opened the door for her, legs already heavy as he escorted her across the lot and towards the elderly gentleman.

'Oh yes, Mrs Anders. You look just the part', Randall said, remembering fondly the perfect figure and outfit.

'You mean a married whore?', Simon added with a smile, feeling a little nervous and trying to use humour to lighten the situation.

'Honey, don't be crude', Linda teased. Randall nodded overly to himself, eyeing the white woman like some sort of trophy.

'Everything is arranged as you wanted. If you are ready, we should begin'.

'That's right', Linda retorted with a cruel wink towards Simon. 'I don't want to keep those black boys waiting'.

The sun was still beating down and it was nice to get into the shade, the noise of the traffic growing as rush hour approached. Mr Randall gently took Linda's arm and escorted the younger woman around the barrier and along the line of battered motels doors. In her heels, which tapped quickly on the floor, she was five inches taller than the old man.

'Here we are Mrs Anders', Randall said stopping at a room marked '36'. There was one solitary window and Linda noticed the curtain move and the shape of multiple, dark figures inside. There was the sound of a television together with other, unruly noises from within. Linda stopped and checked herself nervously in a pocket mirror one last time. She noticed her hands were trembling.

'Eager to make an impression my dear?', Randall asked noticing her shaking.

'Yes ... yes ... I'm ready', she replied with a deep breath. The old man checked his watch and drummed hard on the door.

Knock ... knock...

A brief moment passed and then the door was opened by a bare-chested man in his 40's. He had dark brown skin, deep wrinkles upon his face and lazy eyes. A pair of grey trousers with the braces turned down hung around his toneless mid-rift, several days stubble on the mans chin, slightly greying like his hair. Linda stiffened as he confronted her, thick cigarette smoke flowing from the room behind him.

'Good afternoon Dylan', said Randall.

'Afternoon Mr Randall'. With a smile Dylan rested a heavy arm on the doorframe, took a drag from his cigarette and set his gaze on Linda. Slowly over her from top to toe, lingering on her chest. 'Hey there baby', he said. 'You worth the wait n' no mistake'.

'Hello ... and thank-you', Linda replied feeling rigid all over as this man looked at her like a piece of meat, the warm smile on her face uncontrollable. She was used to the initial attraction she got from men she'd just met but this already felt different. He knew why she was here and what she wanted.

'Well Dylan', Randall coughed. 'Maybe we should introduce the lady to the others?'.

'OH sure thing Mr Randall Sir. These boys been made to wait a lil longer than they'd like'. Linda's legs felt increasingly heavy with each step as Dylan stood back to let them in. The room was quite small and showed the wear and tear of many years use. By one wall was a large double bed, already turned down, a worn sofa and hall leading back to what was likely a bathroom and kitchen. Sitting and standing about the room where eight black men of varying ages. Linda felt Randall's hand on her hip and the old man nodding around the group in familiar recognition. It was fair to say that all other sets of eyes were set very intently upon her.

'Holy shit... ', said one wide eyed young man.

'Awww yeah ... dats what ah'm talking about'.

'Damn that's one hot fuckin' whi', woman right there'.

The motel room was clouded in cigarette smoke, one table full of beer cans and next to the bed, a TV showing hardcore pornography, the sound turned low but still audible. Linda had a rough idea beforehand of what was expected but actually being confronted with a room full of men left her more than just a little apprehensive. She felt her spine tingle as she stood before the huge group, completely overwhelmed. Suddenly the door shut behind her with a bang giving her a start. Dylan appeared from behind licking his lips and leaning his frame back on the wall. This was his place and he understandably, appeared the most forward. As each dark face studied her, Linda's hand grew tighter on the strap of her handbag. They ranged from early twenties to an older, grey haired man in his early sixties. A couple were smartly dressed, some casual and two wearing overalls from what must have been a day job. Several were already stripped from the waist up and showing extremely well muscled torsos.

'Gentlemen', Randall's voice boomed from behind, 'may I present Mrs Linda Anders. Our agencies newest member. I trust you'll look after her'. Quiet coos of excitement continued to ripple among the group.

'No problem Mr Randall', said one of the men, nodding impatiently to himself as if promising a long overdue treat.

Simon watched from the parking lot as his wife was led into a small motel room. A large, black man had opened the door and let them in. When, minutes later, Randall reappeared the husband was feeling all kinds of new emotions. Most notably jealousy and protection towards his unseen wife. Then he calmed himself and remembered why they were there.

'I must say', said Randall tapping his brow with a handkerchief, 'I think they are very taken with your lovely wife'.

'Will she be ... all right?', Simon asked, his voice breaking.

'Oh yes Mr Anders', the old man replied. 'She is in very safe hands'. He led Simon to the adjoining room '35'. It felt empty inside and cold from the air conditioning. Already the white husband could hear the noise through the wall as the men toyed with Linda. Their voices were easily transferable through the thin, cheap wall.

'Oh shit, guess this our lucky day'.

'Look at dis fucking married ho' man, shit ah'm gonna fuck her first'.

'Naw man, ah'm first at dat white pussy'.

'Likin those big fuckin' tits man'.

'Damn dis bitch the hottest yet fo' sure!'.

'There's a hole in the wall here you can watch through', Randall grinned. Simon lowered his eye, his breath taken away. The peephole was discreet and unnoticeable from the other side, while providing an excellent view of the room. His wife was sitting cross-legged on the double bed, clutching her handbag and surrounded by nine Negro men. Her dress had risen wonderfully over her full, bare thighs giving an idyllic view of her white legs. At least one of the men, a younger man of perhaps twenty five had a hand down his trousers and was discreetly jerking himself. He wondered what his wife was thinking as she was confronted with this? How their foreplay and fantasies had grown over the last year in the lead up to the Agency.

Linda looked positively staggered, hardly able to speak yet the feeling she had was of total submission. The men were not upon her yet but it was only a matter of time. Whatever happened she was getting black fucked today, by all of them once it started.

'What your first name again baby?', one of them asked. He had thick, new tattoos down both arms and wore a basketball top. She had met relatively few black men in her time but he met the typical 'thug' stereotype.

'Linda ... my name's Linda', she replied, her voice dry.

'You got a white hubby?', another asked. From the next room Randall's smile broadened.

'Stay here if you will Mr Anders', he said, 'and enjoy the show'.

'Fuck, you hot Lady. You come to the right place fo' big nigga dick'.

'You gonna give us some of dat white pussy?'. Linda didn't reply to it all, trying to remain composed but with their broad, roaming eyes it was difficult to keep her cool. They could see what she was. An out-of-place upmarket white woman and they're eagerness and sense of arousal was obvious. This could easily get out of hand. Then two of the men, Dylan and one of the younger members came and sat boldly next to her on the bed. Dylan put out his cigarette and grinned, almost as if baiting her.