Chapter 2 -- My Resolutions
As I stumbled along back to our spot on the beach my eyes met a young white man who was sat nearby on the sand with his heavily pregnant white wife as she played with her little coffee coloured two year old daughter. It was clear that he had watched the scene unfold before him and his look was one of compassion, commiseration and sympathy. However, I thought nothing of it at the time so immersed was I in shock and dismay.
As I sat traumatized on our towel waiting for Elaine to return to me I had little to do but look absent-mindedly around and although I hadn't noticed before, there were some other young white couples on that beach who had been joined by a black man. Although their husbands and boyfriends seemed to be less than enthusiastic the ebony studs were paying a lot of attention to their receptive wives. 'What kind of beach is this?' I asked myself. But even then I didn't understand such was my dismay and lack of intuition at that moment.
Off to my left, one young blonde Wife with a well built handsome black man stood up and walked together hand in hand into the sea up to their necks and started kissing, leaving her husband sitting alone and dejected to take care of the two other towels and bags. The poor man still did nothing as the black man walked out of the sea with the young Wife impaled on his big manhood and laid her down at the water's edge; caring nothing for hubby or anybody else he proceeded to f**k her rigorously right there not more than ten feet from the humiliated hubby and in full view of the rest of people on that beach. Who, it must be said, barely even noticed.
Further up the shore at some distance another white husband sat staring disconsolately out to sea as his Wife and a black stud exchanged numbers on their cells. Throughout the whole beach there were similar scenes of humiliation and embarrassment as young black men hit on pretty young white women right there in front of their husbands and boyfriends. Some of the girls were even disappearing behind sand dunes with their new Lovers only to emerge much later with tousled hair and very happy smiles.
I sat alone on that beach letting the sun dry up the little stain on my shorts fully expecting to see Elaine at any moment, but she didn't come. An hour passed and then another and it was pretty clear that their lust for each other had not been sated. Master was obviously f**king her hard and long underneath that tower and me, the big brave man that I am, did nothing but sit and wait.
In those hours I had time to consider my situation. I knew that there was nothing that I could do about the current state of affairs ('affair' I suppose being the most appropriate word) and with complete clarity it dawned upon me that, compared to the man she was with, and the others I had seen on that beach, I am physically inferior. The question was, and is still to this day, as Elaine's husband do I deserve to have a pretty Wife such as her? The answer was probably no because I had always known that I was never in her league, but I vowed there and then, on that momentous day for us both, that I would not lose her -- no matter what.
Who could blame her? Not me! Compared to me he was everything a woman wanted in her bed. My weak scrawny body and three inches of supposed manhood was no match for his strong and heavily muscled black torso, legs, arms and cock. I know that they say 'size isn't everything' but his member, that thick long organ that hung halfway down his thigh, must have been well over the ten inch mark. Dismally I calculated that it must be over three times the size of my own little 'cotton reel' (as Elaine likes to call it). The more I considered this, the more that I could easily understand why she would want to kneel before him and pay homage to such a beautiful and manly organ, let alone feel it inside her.
In the warm sun, on that sand, on that beach, and on that day I resolved that if my future was that of a diminished man, then I would have to play the cards I had been dealt with subtlety. I would like to say at this stage that my thoughts were not logical or coherent after the shock of seeing her with him and with the new realisation of my wimpish nature; it was more a feeling and recognition of what I need to be from that moment on that brought me to my resolution.
Once again a feeling of calmness and strong resolve came over me; my Wife would soon know how I felt, and that she would also realize that I am ready to go on a journey of discovery with my new life. At that moment, although there was no straight factual reason for feeling that way, I sensed that the future was going to be positive for us both and that she would still want me if I unhesitatingly accepted my position in her life.
In spite of everything, she is a generally kind-hearted, albeit mischievous girl who often tells me that she loves me, as I do to her; the problem being was how to let her know and understand my decision without her feeling that she had forced me into being an unwilling cuckold or to lose what little respect she has for me. I needed to have a plan and it wasn't long before I had one. My 'cotton reel' may be small but my brain is not.
The sun was on the horizon when the trio to my left got up together and prepared to leave. With a triumphant smile on her pretty face, the girl walked hand in hand up the beach with her Black Lover (I remember wondering if she called him 'Master' too?) leaving her cuckold to carry all the bags and towels. I felt so sorry for him, while at the same time wondering if there was some form of etiquette involved. But why should I feel sorry; perhaps he wanted no other way of life. Maybe he was a very happily married man or a devoted boyfriend -- who knows? Either way, he did as he was told immediately and without protest.
