"Author's note: This story is Part 6 of my first serialized work. Read the earlier parts if you haven't already. The concept behind this story, including generalized characters/names and premise, was suggested by Literotica user Rav09. The story's development and specifics are my own.
This story will contain themes of cuckolding, voyeurism, reluctance/seduction, and interracial connections. You've been warned.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
I had lost my mind. That was the obvious explanation. How else could I justify extending an open invitation to my roommate to sleep with my fiancé as much as he wanted? And not just agree to it... but be excited by it.
Six months ago, we didn't even know the guy. But now, Dante had become much more intimately involved with us than I would have ever thought possible. He'd gone all the way with Amanda on three separate occasions now, not to mention the other sex-adjacent encounters they'd had. But despite that, I didn't feel insecure in my relationship with Amanda at all. In fact, I'd never felt closer to her.
So maybe I hadn't lost my mind. Maybe I'd just found myself in a situation—no matter how unusual—that was strengthening my bond with Amanda. After all, if a couple has enough trust to spice up their relationship with another person, they probably have enough trust for anything else life could throw at them. Right?
With our wedding just a few months away, it seemed fitting to bare ourselves so freely to one another, without the fear of judgment or reprisals. In a twisted sort of way, agreeing to bring Dante into our sex lives was like our version of marriage counseling. It forced us to confront parts of ourselves that we kept locked away. But as uncomfortable as those self-confrontations might be, it was freeing too. We no longer had to hide our messy or awkward parts. Amanda and I now had total transparency.
For me, my soul-searching involved accepting that I liked sharing Amanda with Dante. I knew other men might call me weak or passive for not standing up for her 'virtue'. Even then, some who might otherwise understand would take issue with Dante being black. His skin color shouldn't matter, but I knew some still had archaic views on that sort of thing.
In any case, those other men weren't me, and that was okay. I was secure in my decision to share my fiancé, even if others might not understand.
On the other hand, Amanda didn't show any qualms about giving herself to Dante. She'd been fascinated by him since he moved in. After all, as she'd put it, Dante was a gorgeous man. Strong, charismatic, and well-endowed—it was no wonder Amanda couldn't seem to resist him. Plus, she now had my full support, so there was no reason for her to deny herself.
That's not to say that Amanda hadn't grown from the experience. Quite the opposite. Like me, Amanda had become much more comfortable with herself, particularly in seeing herself as a sexual being who could desire and be desired in turn. I'd always thought of Amanda as curvy and hot as hell, but she'd never seen herself that way. Blame her homeschooling past or blame her modest personality, but the result was the same: for most of her life, Amanda had truly believed she was a plain-Jane.
Dante changed all that for her. Our last time with Dante had involved Amanda playing the role of seductress. It hadn't come naturally for her, but she pulled it off amazingly well. Seeing how deeply she affected both Dante and me turned her self-image upside down. She was far from plain; she was sexy.
I fully encouraged this, saying I couldn't wait to see more of Sexy-Amanda... and she'd agreed.
But I didn't expect her to embrace Sexy-Amanda as fully as she did.
It started subtly, at least at first. After our last encounter with Dante—where'd we'd agreed that Dante could join us whenever he felt like it—there was a new tension in the apartment. It wasn't the tension of impending-sex, but rather something quieter: the knowledge that even as we went about our lives, our dynamic was fundamentally different. Dante wasn't merely a roommate anymore; he was a potential lover... and could become an active lover at a moment's notice.
Even routine interactions were charged now. Amanda and Dante brushing in the living room... mere accident or a prelude to another hot fuck session? Amanda and I kissing goodbye in front of Dante... a loving gesture or a lead-in for a threesome? Dante going shirtless in the apartment, showing off his body to Amanda... accidental exhibitionism or a deliberate invitation?
And so on.
Surprisingly, even as these tense encounters increased in frequency, they never spilled over into anything more explicit. Despite all three of us understanding that we could descend into a carnal tryst whenever we wanted, it seemed none of us wanted to be the first to initiate it. It was like a game of sexual chicken, where it was more fun to push the others into giving into their lust instead of starting it ourselves. I was surprised that Dante didn't make a move on Amanda immediately, but he didn't. My only guess is he was afraid of overstepping his bounds. After all, the wording of our offer was that he could join in with us... not necessarily that he could start it himself.
As we finished out Amanda's Winter Break, there was no more sex, even just between Amanda and me. To be fair, most of that time was spent visiting our families for the holidays, but still. By the time Amanda's spring semester started, I was in desperate need for release. I felt like I had cum up to my eyeballs, despite several masturbation sessions to help relieve the pressure.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait much longer.
The first Saturday morning after Amanda's return to school, the two of us were eating breakfast in the dining room/kitchen area. I'd made it a habit to cook waffles for Amanda after her first week of school each semester, starting back in our undergrad. It was a small gesture, but since starting grad school, she'd come to really be excited for Waffle Day. I told her I'd be happy to make waffles anytime if she loved them so much, but Amanda had refused, preferring to keep Waffle Day as a special occasion.
The smell of batter cooking must have awoken Dante's appetite, because he emerged from his room much earlier than normal.
"You got enough of those for me too?" Dante said, eyeing the plate of waffles next to me hungrily.
"Oh, we've got plenty. Help yourself," I said, pouring the final batch of batter onto the waffle iron.
"Don't mind if I do," Dante replied, grabbing a plate and loading it up with griddled goodness.
Amanda had almost finished her own waffle by this point, her plate a syrupy mess.
Dante sat at the table across from her, shooting her a knowing glance. "I see I'm not the only one that has an appreciation for the good stuff."
Amanda laughed and filled Dante in on the history of Waffle Day. Dante listened attentively, slathering his waffle-tower in syrup, before digging in greedily. He couldn't seem to get enough; by the time he'd finished his first waffle, syrup dripped from his mouth.
Amanda stopped her story mid-sentence, clearly distracted by the mess Dante had made. "Jesus, Dante. Slow it down a bit. You've got syrup all over you."
Dante reached for his mouth as if noticing the spillage at last. Encountering the stickiness with his fingers, he grinned sheepishly. "Whoops?"
"Here, let me get it for you," Amanda said with a huff, standing from the table and walking to the sink. She grabbed a washcloth, dampened it, then walked back to Dante.
