Carolyn Antwan And Me Ch 01

WARNING: This is a hardcore interracial cuckolding story with BISEXUALITY and GAY SEX. If you don't like those themes, don't read it! Negative comments will be deleted. Write your own story if you can do better, and invite me to it (nicely) in a comment. Thanks!!

WARNING, TWO: Did you read the fucking warning? Read the fucking warning. Thank you!

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You would think maybe I could have left well enough alone. I was divorced. Forty years old. I was recently engaged to Carolyn, a smoking hot 5'7" redhead who loves to fuck. She's got the hottest ass ever. I fell for her instantly following a pleasant lunch and then seeing her incredible tight ass in her form-fitting bluejeans as we exited the restaurant. I'm a sucker for a great ass!

Carolyn was thirty-two when this started, by the way. Her ass was to die for her, and the rest of her was terrific, too. Bright. Beautiful. Fun. Caring. Intelligent. Successful. Hot, never-had-a-baby-yet body. But even so, her hot ass and her strong libido were and are my favorite features. Her tits are small, incidentally, maybe not even a b-cup; I didn't care.

I'm Joe, incidentally. My name probably won't come up much. I'll probably usually be "hey you," "cucky," "fag," "faggot," and maybe occasionally a more dignified nickname coming from my fiancée. Sometimes she calls me, "Boo."

I'm not sure what stupidity exactly inspired me, but one day after fucking and hearing her cum really loudly not just once but twice, I teased Carolyn. "Kitten," I used my nickname for her. "I bet you could fuck a room full of guys, couldn't you?"

I honestly didn't know what she would say. Carolyn definitely had a sweet and innocent side. There was a chance she would be offended. She replied mildly, and with a smile. "Prob-ah-bly!"

That's what first gave me the idea that perhaps my sexy fiancée would follow whatever perverted path I might set, so long as I set it cleverly enough. This thought stayed with me--and blossomed--in the weeks that followed.

I did think of perhaps setting up a gang bang, as I had implied that night in bed, and as Carolyn had indicated she could go for. But I soon realized that wasn't really my favorite fantasy for us. Not at least right then.

No, rather I wanted to see Carolyn get blacked. I craved seeing her get blacked by a *REALLY* big black cock, to boot--average black cock would not do it. Not at all. A black gang bang could be fun to watch, eventually, yes--but seeing Carolyn blacked one-on-one by a huge BBC was my favorite first fantasy.

Like so many white guys, I'm sure, I had stumbled on to interracial porn at least a decade earlier. I had quickly become hooked. Big black cocks impressed me. I thought they were so masculine, so powerful, so erotic, so intense. I was even aware of my own attraction to BBC. I thought maybe I might like to suck some BBC if I had the opportunity. And I was totally convinced that nothing would be hotter than watching a wife, girlfriend, or fiancée get blacked. That would be the most amazing thing ever!

I knew I needed a plan for blacking Carolyn, and I wasn't sure where to start.

With a bit of web surfing, I finally found a local chat forum for white cuckold husbands, like I aspired to be. I struck up a lot of chats and read a lot of posts, learning about different approaches. Heck, you read literotica, so you know some of the most popular ones: bring home a new black "friend," start on porn together and hope to progress, go to bars that are favorites for interracial hookups. None of these felt quite right to me. I just wasn't sure that they would work.

Eventually, I got to know another white cucky online--at least I think he was a white cucky--named "Chet." We were sharing ideas using first names only, so I wasn't sure if it made much difference if he were real or an alias for some other type of person. It was amusing chatting with Chet, even if it didn't lead to anything.

Eventually "Chet" sold me on an idea. He said that he and a couple of friends had terrific luck with "Sir Antwan," who lived only about fifty miles from Carolyn's and my East Coast city. "Meet Sir Antwan," Chet said, in so many words. "He'll make the whole thing happen for you. Your fiancée will be blacked before you know it. But she'll certainly end up black only, too, before long, so you better think good and hard about whether you're ready for it!"

I was torn for a while. I didn't act on Chet's idea for weeks as I turned it around and around in my head.

You'd have thought that I would have just moved on to a different idea rather than lose my fiancée to being permanently black-only.

After all, who in the world would want to give up his smoking hot fiancée to black only, never to have his own little white pecker inside her again, ever? Well... I'll tell you who. A perverted interracial cuckold porn addict like me, that's who!

Sure, there were tons of ways I could introduce Carolyn to black cock. She would probably love it. And in many or maybe even most of the scenarios, I would still get to fuck her, too.

But somehow the idea of seeing Carolyn fall prey to a dominant, demanding black master, who would take my smoking hot fiancée black-only was irresistible. I could imagine hearing her scream and moan in ecstasy as she was black owned and black bred--and satisfied to a sexual height that I could only dream of providing her.

My orgasms from beating off to the idea of Carolyn going black and black-only were intense. They were so intense, that I became convinced I would be *plenty* happy watching her being blacked and would barely miss fucking her myself--if at all. So long as I got to watch her get blacked, of course.

It got so that I couldn't even make love with Carolyn without day-dreaming about how much hotter and happier she would be writhing around on an enormous black cock or having one thrust into her from on top or behind.

When I would beat off, I would always finish by imagining Carolyn getting blacked and swearing her devotion to being black only--sometimes also begging to be black bred!

Yup, I had brainwashed myself into a fever of massive black cock delirium, and the only path out was forward.

So I finally called the number Chet had provided me for "Sir Antwan." Someone with a deep, manly African-American sounding voice quickly answered.

"Hello! This is Antwan!" he said.

"Uh..." I started with a stammer, I was so nervous.

"Who the fuck is this and what do you want?"

"Uh... My name is Joe Nelson, Sir. Chet Bankford suggested I call, Sir." Chet had been very clear that Antwan preferred to be called "Sir" by white beta cuckolds.

"Ahh... Yes, beta cucky Chet! Sure... Whatsup?"

"Well, I was wondering..."

"Spit it out, boi... I ain't got all day!"

"Well, Sir Antwan, I was wondering if you might like to black my fiancée, Carolyn."

"I dunno, boi. Is she really hot?"

"Oh, yes, Sir. She's incredibly hot!"

"Yeah... I'm sure that *you* think so, boi--but is it objectively true?"

"Yes, Sir! She gets hit on all the time! She's incredibly attractive and sexy!"

"What are her measurements, punk?"

"She's 34-24-37--and she has a beautiful face to boot!"

"How tall? And what cup size?"

"Five-foot seven. And only a B-cup. But her face is really pretty--and she has the most gorgeous taught ass ever. Her ass is to die for!"

"Hmmm. Sounds interesting. I am an ass man. Could be interesting. Has she ever been blacked ever at all?"

"No, Sir. She is a virgin for black."

"Ah-- you mean simply a 'virgin' then so far as I'm concerned. If I bother to fuck her--and I'm thinking I might--she'll swear she's lost her virginity for real when I fuck her!"

"I'm sure that's right, Sir!" Chet had also coached me to flatter Sir Antwan when possible.

"Damn straight, that's right, faggot! So... This is very important... Are you ready to see her go black only? Are you ready to go pussy-free in your relationship?"

"Yes, Sir! I've become obsessed with it... I can fantasize about little else!!"

"Good. Very good... Very good... And are you ready to suck black cock, to pay homage to the black man?"

"Yes, Sir! Yes, I figured that would be required!"

"Good! Excellent! Chet has told you much of the key information."

"So you'll do it, Sir? You'll black my fiancée?"

"I will *evaluate* blacking your fiancée, cucky... That's all for now, just evaluate... for $5,000, that is."

"$5,000!?! That's a lot of dough..."

"It depends on how you look at it. Do you want a professional assessment? I am world-class at blacking attached white women-- white women in a relationship. Your fee gets you a professional assessment and a strategy... You sound like a successful guy, Joe. You have $5K to spare, don't you?

"Well, I suppose..."

"Well, $5K or it's been nice talking to you..."

"That's a lot of dough sight unseen, Sir," I brazenly challenged Sir Antwan.

"Yes, Joe. That's fair... Okay... I'll allow you to meet me first... That will allow you to take the measure of a man... Jack's Pub House on Broadway at 17th. Does 9pm Thursday work?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Great, meet me at my table in the back. Bring a cashier's check made out to Antwan's Coaching Service LLC. If you don't like how the conversation goes, you leave with the check. Sound good?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Okay, loser. See you then!"

Fast forward a couple of days, and I was at the Pub House, fifteen minutes early. I had the cashier's check for five grand in my wallet, as ordered by Sir Antwan. I waited in the parking lot until 8:58 because I had the feeling that anything other than exactly on time would be frowned upon, and at 9pm sharp, I opened the door to the Pub.

I made my way to the back, and there was exactly one big, black guy at a table. It had to be Antwan. Our eyes met, and I knew that it was he.

He was a big guy--not enormous, but about 6'2" and 250 pounds, seemingly of pure muscle. To my 5'11" and a little flabby. He was what you could call ruggedly handsome, with a strong jaw. His nose was off. Perhaps broken too many times.

"Hello, Sir Antwan?" I said, still feeling tentative.

"You must be Joe. Hi, faggot. Have a seat," he said. I quickly took a seat. It was a small table, and I was adjacent rather than across from him. We both faced out to the Pub and could see if anyone approached.

"What do you want to know, faggot?" he asked, bluntly. It seemed I was going to have to get used to being spoken to abusively. "Maybe I deserve it," I thought. "After all, who but a 'faggot' would try to get his fiancée permanently blacked and himself end up pussy free?"

"Uh..." I stammered, totally unsure where to begin.

"It figures. You white faggots are all the same. Once you start to commit to getting your woman blacked--blacked for good--you get seized also with insecurity and fear. I don't blame you. Your woman *is* going to go black. And you *are* going to end up feeling like a faggot. Who but a faggot would be wanting to go pussy free and focus on watching his woman get blacked? No, sirree. You may not have thought about it before, but you're a faggot, boi!"

"Oh," I said, meekly.

"I'll take pity on you and tell you what you need to know," Antwan continued. "Your $5K buys me coming up with the strategic options. Over the course of a few weeks, and with your help, I'll assess you and your fiancée and come up with anywhere from one to three recommendations, at least one of which is 99 percent guaranteed to take her black--and black only. If you pick the one with the best odds, which will run you typically another ten to twenty grand, and it doesn't work, you get all of your money back. That's Sir Antwan's guarantee... So that's the first thing you little faggot cuckies need to know. Done. Answered. Can you guess what the second one is, faggot?"

"Uh... I don't think I can, Sir!" I admitted--even as I was dying inside to learn all about Antwan's cock. Oh, did I want to learn how big his BBC is and what it looks like! So very badly!

"Yeah... alright. Fine. Don't say. I know you know, but fine... The second thing you faggots want to know is what the cock is like that's going to own your woman's pussy soon--until I get bored with her, or decide to share her with the brothers. You faggots all *crave* seeing and feeling Sir Antwan's love pole... You are *definitely* one of those faggots, aren't you, Joe?"

"Uh, I don't know, Sir."

"Oh, bullshit, Joe! Don't lie to me, you little faggot!" And with that, Antwan grabbed my crotch really quickly under the table. I was taken aback. "Yup! Your little white 'boi clit' is rock hard! Just as I suspected. You *definitely* want to feel me, faggot!"

"Uh, yeah... Okay! I admit it!" I said. After all, my rock-hard little weiner gave me away.

"That is the last time you lie to me, faggot. Got it? Do it again, and I'll hit you until you bruise--or maybe something even breaks. Got it?"

"Uh, yes, I got it!"

"No! It's 'Yes, I got it, *SIR ANTWAN*!"

"Yes, I got it, Sir Antwan!"

"Good! You go on then, faggot! I ain't got all day! Give it a feel, pussy boi!"

I leaned a little towards Antwan so that I could reach, trying to look nonchalant in case anyone in the Pub might notice.

"Don't worry about people looking at us, faggot. These folks have seen this enough times before. They know the drill." Antwan offered.

In a moment, his crotch was within reach.

In a moment, I was feeling around his crotch with my hand. The bulge was stupendous. It was amazing! It was massive beyond my dreams.

I don't think I could have imagined a bigger bulge on a man. It felt like a bulge big enough for a horse or a donkey.

"Holy fuck!!" I exclaimed. "That's insane!"

"It's 'Holy fuck, *SIR*!' to you, faggot... And no, it's not 'insane.' It's what the good lord has gifted me with, is all! Your woman will feel she's gone to heaven and beyond when I take her with it--many, many times. In her pussy, throat, and ass, too. Definitely will be making her my three-hole slut if she's as hot as you say she is. Yup, this cock is just what the lord gifted me."

"I'll say... Sir!"

"Damn straight!"

"Can I ask, Sir?"

"Oh, I know what you want to know, cucky. 'How big does it get, Sir Antwan?' It's what every white boi *has* to know!"

"And may I know, Sir?"

"Yes, of course! It gets to eleven-inches hard, and about an inch-and-a-quarter wide... Your fiancée *will* take the whole thing in her cunt and womb... Perhaps not in her ass-- but it won't be for the lack of trying!"

"Good lord, Sir!!"

"Yes, 'good lord!' will surely be among your fiancée's exclamations as I ream her with my love pole and blast my baby batter into her womb... It will be a religious experience for her for sure!!"

"I can believe it, Sir Antwan!!"

"Yes, and after just a few solid fucks, she will certainly go black-only. Especially if you encourage her!"

"Wow!! I hadn't thought about that, but I see how that could help!"

"Oh, yes. Most assuredly my plan will involve you encouraging your Carolyn to go black, black-only, and ultimately get black bred. The white boi's encouragement is vital in these matters! Are you ready to do your part, faggot? Is this really what you want?"

"Oh, yes, Sir!! I've wrestled with it for weeks. I wish it weren't the case. But it's gotten so that I can fantasize about little else!! Nothing would be hotter than seeing my beloved fiancée go black all the way, including going permanently black only and getting bred!! I want it *badly*!!"

"Alrighty then. Let's have that check, and let's go out back where it's quieter to finish up on a few details."

"Yes, Sir!" I handed Antwan the $5,000 check, and we headed out back.

It was a well-lit parking lot, and I wasn't afraid if you were wondering. Sir Antwan inspired trust and confidence.

"Okay, faggot. Now I need a couple of videos of you. One for me to hold onto just in case, and the other for me to show to your fiancée when and if I see the need. Here are the scripts on these cards." And he handed me a couple of index cards with writing on them. "Just say your name where it indicates 'name'-- even a dumbass cucky like you can handle it. Ha!"

The first video went like this. "I, Joe Nelson, have gotten involved with Antwan Holliday of my own volition. I have asked him to get intimately involved in the life--including the sex life--of me and my fiancée, Carolyn Alexander. I agree to hold him harmless for any sexual relationship he might develop with Carolyn, including even if he converts her into a sexual deviant, and including even if he ends up causing my engagement to end or our eventual marriage to be completely sexless for me, personally. Mr. Holliday may proceed to interact with me and Carolyn however he sees fit, including involving other men or women that he may choose. I realize and accept that I may later regret this decision, but that's my risk to bear."

"Good job, faggot! Perfect! Now do the next one!"

"Dear Carolyn, if you're seeing this video it's because Sir Antwan Holliday has decided it's appropriate. He's a superior black alpha male, and I defer to his judgment regarding my sex life--and yours. I sought him out so that you could be blacked by a superior big black cock like you deserve. Nothing would please me more than seeing you fuck him and--indeed--I would love to see you become his three hole slut. And that's only for starters. Please go ahead and fuck him. He'll provide you the superior black cock that a gorgeous woman like you should have in life. You deserve the whole next galaxy of pleasure that only superior black cock--like Sir Antwan's--can provide you. I beseech you to enjoy it. Even if it means you go black-only. Even if it means that my little twig of a dicklet never gets to enjoy you again. Please go black with Sir Antwan with my blessing--and my love. To show you that I'm sincere, Sir Antwan is going to have my take out my little 'boi clit' so you can see how hard I am as I say all of this--how incredibly hard." Then, I followed the card's directions to take my little dicklet out, and Antwan videoed that, too.

"Great, faggot! Cut! That's a wrap! Now I have a whole bunch of questions for you that are going to help me develop a plan. Let's go sit in my car so we can relax, and I can write stuff down."

Sir Antwan led me to a large and gorgeous Mercedes. I'm not going to lie. I was impressed. We sat for an hour or so as I took me through tons of details about me and Carolyn and our life together. Some matter-of-fact. Others were intimate:

Places of work. Home address. Family members. Closest friends. Favorite sexual positions--hers and mine. Biggest dick she ever admitted to sleeping with. Her favorite fantasies. Her health club. Her favorite lunch places. Girls' night out details. Health concerns (none). Her erogenous zones (loves her nipples tweaked and her ass slapped!). Major ex-boyfriends and their professions and cities. Her hometown. And many more.

Finally, after more than an hour, we were done.

"Okay good. I think I need three, maybe four weeks for this. I'll text you when I'm ready, and we'll meet here again to go over options. I'll tell you how large a check to bring when I text you, too. Got it, faggot?"

"Yes, got it, Sir Antwan!"

"Oh-- there *is* one last thing-- as we discussed by phone."

"Yes, sir?"

"You gotta pay 'homage.'"

"Pay 'homage'? Oh!! Yes... I remember now... Pay *homage*!"

"Yeah, if I'm going to get this going for you faggot, you got to pay personal homage to my BBC. You've got to blow me right now for starters. And you had best do a decent job of it. I ain't gay, but I love making a horny white faggot pay homage and begin to learn his own gayness. You're going to love sucking my cock, by the way. You're going to be astounded even at how much you're going to love it! You're going to be wondering how you waited so long to suck BBC... Black cock is the 'white boi gaymaker,' you know!"