My name is Jim, I'm a 26 year old white male with a successful career, a sexy wife and an addiction to watching interracial sex. I'm married to a 24 year old woman named Anna, she is a beautiful white woman with shoulder length brunette hair, intelligent brown eyes, a slender but curvy figure and gorgeous shapely legs. Besides her lovely appearance on the outside, Anna is also a sweet, caring and nice girl on the inside. For three years we enjoyed a very happy, monogamous and content marriage.
Our married life changed forever one day when my wife caught me with interracial pornography. I had, unknown to her, an obsession with watching white women having sex with black men. Her discovery of my interracial obsession triggered a chain of events that eventually resulted in my wife starting an erotic relationship with a black man, named Antwan, at my encouragement. On our wedding anniversary my wife made love on our marital bed to her new boyfriend and was brought to orgasm multiple times by him while I watched and masturbated myself to ejaculation. It was the hottest night of our lives. It not only gave me intense satisfaction to witness my wife being sexually pleasured in bed by a black man but she loved seeing me watch it happen to her.
Being black fucked altered my wife dramatically. Although she remained the same sweet young woman, she gained new attitude and sexiness she didn't possess before. It was as though the experience of her being sexually entered by a black man not only stretched and opened her white pussy, but also liberated and opened her mind. After getting reamed repeatedly by big black cock my formerly shy wife started standing a little taller and straighter. She spoke with more confidence and walked with more sass and energy. The erotic nature of her interracial joining gave her a new outlook on life, one where her pleasures took center stage.
My wife had become as addicted to sex with her black lover as I was addicted to watching it. As much as she still loved me I noticed my wife became less and less interested in having intercourse with me. What titillated her about our marriage now wasn't the act of coitus with me, it was the act of cuckolding me. She not only wanted exclusive sex with her lover, she also wanted and perhaps even needed me to be there when it happened. It was important to her for me to be an observer to her interracial mating. I could see it clearly in the way she searched for me in the room while she was in the middle of sexual congress. Her eyes hungered for mine as she reached her moment of orgasm. She needed to see my face as her lover used her body to satisfy his lust. Watching me masturbate myself to ejaculation as she brought her new mate to climax and accepted his cum deep into her pussy satisfied a craving that she could not and would no longer deny herself.
Even if I had wanted to end this new state of affairs, I could not. Antwan's sexual prowess in bed eclipsed mine. Sex with him satisfied my wife in so many ways that was impossible for me to compete with. My wife's tall black mate possessed and projected an strong masculinity, one that appealed to Anna's undeniable and deep feminine impulses. She could not resist gravitating to him. The contrast of his smooth black body against her firmly soft white skin excited and thrilled her. She delighted in how forward he was in flirting with her. The sound of his deep baritone voice aroused her body, from the hardening of her nipples to the moistening of her pussy, and it melted away any resistance to his sexual advances. Her body constantly screamed out: this is the man I want, this is the man I need and this is the man I must have. His humor and magnetism made her want to laugh, dance and make love. In his pants her new black man carried his most convincing argument: his long, hard, thick cock. With his large male endowment, Antwan's explored the inside of my wife beyond where I was capable of reaching. Seeing herself impaled on his black cock turned my wife into a wanton woman determined to pleasure her new man. His dark manhood filled the tenderness of her white pussy completely and pressed into her more pleasure then she thought possible. Most appealing to her of all about it was indulging in a taboo joining; to not only have sex with a black man, which her upbringing had discouraged, but to do so in front of her husband. All this multiplied her carnal experience to such an extent that she could not look at Antwan without wanting him to ravish her. How could I expect her to tolerate my average dick compared to her lover's thick black cock? Rather then risk losing her by trying to obstruct her new passion, I decided the best way to preserve our marriage was to encourage my wife to give herself over fully to our new life. So with that in mind I was the one that suggested what was on both our thoughts; that from this point on she should fuck her black lover exclusively while I would only get hand and blow jobs. I knew sex with me was fading as an option for her. Having to accept my mediocre loving when what she wanted was black in her bed would only annoy and push her away from me. So hearing me propose changing our marriage so that she only make love to Antwan brought incredible happiness and joy to Anna. She loved me and wanted to stay married to me, but revealed she could only continue if we stopped having sex. She explained in clear terms to me that my dick simply had no business being in her pussy anymore. You might think hearing my wife say she didn't want me to have sex with her anymore would bother me, but it had just the opposite effect; I was inclined to agree with her and I was in fact totally happy with this. It might surprise you to hear that when I realized I wouldn't be allowed to put my dick in my wife anymore, it actually gave me an immense hard on. It aroused me.
-
I knew my wife was one hundred percent into the change we were making in our marriage, but she still wasn't completely convinced that I could accept giving up sexual intercourse with her. In her mind, it didn't seem possible that a man could abdicate sexual privileges with his wife and surrender them to another man. Because it nagged her thoughts, wondering if I was serious or not, she kept asking me questions like:
"How do you feel?" and "What are you thinking?"
These are questions women ask their husbands all the time, but I sensed these questions stemmed from her anxiety over the changes our life together was undergoing. This is why I was glad that Antwan would be away for a week on a trip to see visit family. This would give my wife and I time to talk and prepare for the adjustment our marriage would be going through. I decided not to force the discussion but let my wife come to me when she was ready to open up about her concerns. For the next couple of days we went about our daily routines. We didn't speak about anything sexual or about her black lover.
In the meantime when I wasn't working I kept myself busy with organizing the photos I had on the computer of my wife having sex with Antwan. I also started using a program to modify existing photos and another program to make drawings of my wife with Antwan. Doing this gave me a lot of pleasure. I took a picture of them making love in bed and inserted a valentine style red heart with white lace fringe behind them, and in the heart I wrote the words: Anna Loves Antwan. The drawings I made were almost entirely of them kissing. Seeing my wife kissing a black man was the next most erotic thing for me besides seeing her take black cock in her pussy. Later I masturbated to these pictures. My favorite drawings I made were of her kissing him while laying half naked in bed, at the beach in public, and of her in wedding dress kissing him as if they had just gotten married.
During the daytime it was fine but at night when we went to bed it was awkward. Since we weren't having sex anymore we didn't know if we should hug, kiss or what. So in the end we just turned away from each other and fell asleep in silence. This time was the most worrisome for me. We were becoming like strangers. Lying there on separate sides of the bed I wondered what was to become of my marriage. I knew I had only myself to blame. My addiction to watching interracial sex had driven a wedge between me and my wife, a wedge I didn't know how to deal with. I loved my wife and I knew she loved me, but I didn't know how long that would last with the gulf growing between us.
-
Thankfully this situation didn't carry on past the second night. One the evening of the third night after are fateful decision to stop having sex, after showering and freshening up Anna changed into a pretty pink set of pajamas and sat with me on the sofa as I watched television in the living room. Her moist brown hair hung down to her shoulders. I sat on one end of the sofa while she sat on the other. We small talked a little bit, made comments about the weather and current events--nothing very interesting. After our chit chat I looked at her and thought she appeared troubled. I didn't like it. Her eyes projected feelings of worry and unhappiness. Seeing her tension, I turned off the television and gave her my complete attention.
"What's wrong, sweety?"
"Honey, I'm really worried about us." Anna started with the sound of tension in her voice. "What is going on with our marriage? Are we in trouble? Are we screwing things up?"
"What do you mean?"
Anna played nervously with her hair and then looked directly at me. "I mean first I start having sex with a black man while you watch. And before you say anything, yes it was mind-blowing sex, the best I've ever had, but look where it has taken our marriage. We are turning into strangers now that I'm going to start having exclusive sex with Antwan."
"You don't want that anymore?"
"That's just it. I love the idea. I love it. Just thinking about it makes me so happy and wet."
I felt a pang of jealousy. "So then what's the problem?"
"I love and adore you, and yet it seems so right to me to stop having sex with you and only have sex with my black lover. Don't you find that odd? Isn't that crazy? Before we were man and woman. Now we are man and woman and man. You can't tell me this doesn't make you unhappy?"
"It doesn't."
"I know you say you it doesn't, honey, but I still can't help worrying about you and our marriage."
"You don't have to worry about it."
"But I do."
"It's okay, really."
"Jim, you mean everything to me. I never really felt love until I met you." Anna extended her legs forward and waved her feet in an invitation to rub them. They looked gorgeous and I obliged her with enthusiasm.
"Trust me, sweety. I really am happy about it." I massaged her feet. "I know it seems weird but I get a lot of satisfaction watching you enjoying yourself."
"But don't you get jealous?"
"Sure, a little." I shrugged my shoulders. "But feeling a little jealous actually makes it better for me. How can it bother me when seeing you having sex with Antwan makes me hot?"
Unconvinced, Anna sighed. "I don't want to do anything that might hurt what we have later."
"Just think of this as a new kind of marriage." I told her as I rubbed her feet. "Times are changing."
"I don't know."
I continued. "You know women have put up with a lot of crap from men throughout history. I think it is time men stopped being so possessive of their wives. If a man really loves his wife then he should allow her to enjoy everything life has to offer, even if that includes another man."
Anna smiled. "Are you serious about that?"
