Okay, so this is a true story. It happened about a year ago. A lot has happened since then; but one bit at a time....
I'm a straight guy. I'm a straight married guy. For twenty years. But even before I was married, I had another relationship: with porn. Maybe like a lot of you guys reading this now. And like a lot of other guys, I grew less and less confident about the size of my cock. My cock was average, maybe with a bit more girth. Let's leave it at that. But my cock was like nothing I was seeing in the porn I started watching-especially the interracial porn. In the last ten years or so something happened to me that I've read a lot about here. I started identifying more with the white wives getting ploughed by some huge black tool than I did with the guy doing the ploughing. Gradually, I started getting off more when the wife would come than during the "money shot" of the black bull shooting his load into her mouth.
Soon, I started desiring cock. Big black cock.
It's not that I wanted a relationship with a guy. I didn't desire to kiss a guy, and I wasn't turned on by a guy's body. Just cock. Big cock. It wasn't long before I wanted to go further in my fantasy of being the milf cuckolding her white husband that just didn't measure up. To take this extra step, I started experimenting with some anal play. When I discovered my pleasure spot, when I came without even wanking off, I started feeling very "girly". That's when I started dressing up. And this lead me to wanting tits, which water balloons, in a bra borrowed from my wife, fulfilled quite nicely. But I kept fighting this. Holding out for the once a month; then once every three months sex with my wife, as best as I could; but when it got to be more like once every five or six months, I'd have to get fucked at least once during the time my wife made me wait.
Then, whenever I couldn't manage covertly watch a vid with big black cock stretching out some lucky wife, I took to reading about it on literotica. I read lots of stories. Then I my wife became friends with Helen and her husband, Phil.
The first thing I noticed about Phil was that he had HUGE hands with long, thick fingers. Stealing glances at his crotch, I noticed a fist sized bulge. He was a white guy from France, but I couldn't help but fantasizing about him being hung like the monster black cocks on the porn I watched. Years passed, and my wife and I became Helen and Phil's close friends. My wife was attractive. Long hair and long legs; not too busty, but enough. Helen was built like a brick shit house with an ass and a rack that was worthy of the huge cock that I imagined Phil was packing -- and Helen dressed to show off her assets (unlike my wife, who dressed very conservatively).
Phil and I became friends and spent quite a bit of time fishing and doing guy stuff. He was a pretty manly guy, and he tended to subtly put down women and other guys, including me.
But then something happened that really tweaked my girly side. It was during one of our fishing trips. He was having trouble landing a catch and was getting frustrated.
Go back to the car and grab the hand net.
I didn't see one, where is it?
It's in the back under my jacket -- and hurry up bitch, before I loose the fish.
I scurried off to the car, but "bitch"? Where did that come from? My heart started pounding as I grabbed the net. The fish got away, but my cock fantasies got hooked firmly onto Phil. I wasn't the kind of guy who would put an ad on Craigs List and invite some well hung black guy over; but I could see myself sucking Phil's cock. I had tasted my own cum, and had a hard fantasy about swallowing another guy's cum. But a stranger-nah. I was too smart to risk the STD buffet for a brief thrill. But a married guy like Phil, who seemed faithful, might be another matter. Problem was, I was way too scared to make the first move.
Not often, but over the years, I could have sworn that Phil was flirting with my girly side. For one thing, he called me bitch several more times. Another time, when we were at dinner with the wives, the talk turned to losing some weight. Phil, Helen and my wife had been drinking. I'm a non-drinker. Anyway, Phil and I were having a separate conversation when he said,
Yeah, now when toothpaste slips off my brush it lands on my spare tire, when it used to land on my cock. Then, he leaned in and whispered to me, Let's see you get that picture out of your mind...
Another time, I arrived late at night to spend the night in preparing for a fishing trip. We stayed up talking about stuff when we should have packed off for a sleep. I was soooo horny for him! I so wanted to just kneel down in front of him...Well, that's where my mind was anyway. Maybe he kinda picked up on it somehow, because a couple times when he rubbed sleep out of his eyes, his large hands did a once up and down on his package before dropping to his sides. I was squirming, but nothing ever came of it-except in my own mind.
Then, many months later, a conversation turned towards sex we had with girls we knew before our wives. He hadn't really been with that many women before his wife, and neither had I. His stories, even though he never mentioned how big his cock was, were getting me sooooo horny for him. But I STILL couldn't make the first move. Out of nowhere (or out of my horny desperation, really) I decided to embellish a true story with one of my past lovers, with a combination of my own fantasies and big black cock stories I had read about.
I began telling him a true story about how I wasn't able to satisfy one of my lovers because I just hadn't been born with a schlong; but, then I added how I had surprised my girl by dropping in for lunch one day, and she had a tall, muscled black guy in our house and they were smoking weed and drinking. She had her top off, and was rubbing a huge bulge that ran down his pant leg. In great detail, I described how he intimidated me into sitting on the couch and watching her suck and fuck him. And, when he saw how turned on I was, he called me a bitch and told me to come suck him off. He made me deep throat him, and held me on him when he came, making me swallow rope after rope of his hot thick cum. I then extended my fantasy to describe how this threesome went on for some time, with him eventually taking turns fucking both me and my girl. I finished with them both leaving me -- and leaving me with the girly side that they had cultivated in me, and which I've never told anyone about, until now.
You mean Tara doesn't know any of this?
No, I've never had the guts to tell anyone.
Well, man, your secret's safe with me.
Thanks, Phil, I really appreciate that.
Do you still smoke weed?
No. I wouldn't mind, but Tara doesn't want to try, and I don't have a source, and I'm too scared to put myself out there to find one.
Well, Helen smokes whenever she drinks, and we both get high on some weekends. Sex is just insane when you're high-but you probably know that.
Oh yeah...I smoke too, when I drink...
But, you don't drink....
Well, "I" don't, but my "inner bitch" does (which was true. When the fantasies of my anal play started to wear off a bit, and I wanted to take my big black cock slut to the next level, I started role playing the part of a partying, drinking, cigarette smoking slut who was hungry for some black cock....).
You mean you still have that side to you?
Yeah, and every one of those few times when you called me a bitch over the years, I could feel her hunger for cock...
No shit
Yeah....
But you're married. You're straight.
Yeah...I'm that too.
Well fuck me Dave....
Yeah, right?
This is kinda freaking me out, to be honest, dude. I actually think I need to chill a bit. I could use a drink...
He got up and when to his bar and poured a couple of fingers of whisky. Then he half turned to me,
I don't know who I'm talking to right now, to be honest man, but,,,you want a drink-or no?
Sure, I said, as my heart started racing (O fuck, what was happening here?....)
