First Date
As the clock ticked its steady relentless way to 3 in the morning I tossed and turned another few times in our large bed.
I glanced again at the clock and saw that just two minutes had passed since my last look.
No point in asking myself where she was -- I knew exactly where she was and who she was with.
I had arranged it after all. And now I had some serious doubts and angst as I lay there, alone.
Earlier I had been full of bravado, lust and vigour as I had watched her prepare her body and clothes for her date. The date I had arranged. The date she had agreed to at my insistence and had pleaded with me not to pursue and eventually had bowed to my relentless pressure for her to date another guy; someone known to both of us. Not a friend, but a work colleague of hers. A guy who had pursued her for a while as I had discovered only recently and the guy she had chosen once I had convinced her to go ahead.
It started many years before whilst my bedroom sex talk had almost always been around her taking other lovers, having boyfriends and sharing herself with a select few, lucky, horny and always well hung guys. Well hung black guys.
Throughout our marriage it had been a recurring fantasy and theme of mine for her to abandon herself to lust and desire and do whatever she felt and to take a lover and allow him the pleasures I experienced with her. I described her practicing her perfect wanking technique just so she could give her boyfriend the perfect wank -- at my expense. I reveled in the thought of the angst and pain I would feel knowing that my dear wife was stroking a large black cock to orgasm and that the lucky guy was receiving the pleasure of my darling wife who had perfected her stroke on me. Don't ask me to explain the reasons behind these thoughts -- I couldn't't begin to explore or explain them- perhaps any psychologists reading this might care to comment via my contact details.
Suffice to say that over the many years of our marriage this and more lurid tales were exchanged between us but always instigated by me. Never once did she initiate fantasy talk or role play into our sex or lovemaking. I accepted that this was her way and that she felt uncomfortable both initiating and in even continuing stories during sex. She did however respond positively to much of the talk and became noticeably wetter and more turned on during many of the sessions. Clearly, I surmised she was enjoying the dirty talk and was using it to help her to orgasm on many occasions.
The change came one night when I didn't't initiate any fantasy into our caressing and mutual masturbation. We had, much to my enjoyment and surprise been able to watch adult movies and some porn, that of the higher quality, plot-based type which she seemed more satisfied watching. I tried to obtain movies where there were interracial scenes involving white women, married preferably and black men.
So, whilst watching a film in bed one evening whilst I fondled Alison's tits and stroked her between her legs and she gently wanked my lubricated cock, she turned to me and asked if I was imagining her in the movie. At that moment in time there was a mature woman slowly undressing a much younger black guy whose hands were cupping the woman's ample breasts. Whist she didn't't look exactly like my wife there was certainly a similarity in their age, boob size and general curviness. And yes, as always, I was thinking of my wife in just that situation.
"Of course," I replied.
When she uttered the words "So am I," my heart missed a beat and my cock and loins lurched in her hand.
I turned to look at her and she was smiling at me. She continued stroking my now bursting erection and I slipped my hand back between her splayed legs. When I felt her shaved, smooth pussy she was absolutely soaked. I slipped two fingers into her and gently stroked in and out. I was almost coming and it was all a result of those three words, "so am I."
"Fuck, Alison", I moaned. "Just imagine you being with that guy and him holding your lovely tits in his big black hands"
"I'd love to seduce him," she murmured. "He looks sooooo sexy and fit and I would like to teach him a lesson or two" she continued. I was stunned. This was completely out of the blue. Extremely welcome, but so new and unexpected. "It's a pity he isn't here right now then, " I ventured. "Perhaps I could get in touch with him for you?" I continued. "Would you like that?"
I wasn't sure if her next words were part of the fantasy she had entered into or more but, she replied "How would you find him?"
"Not sure I could," I said "but I'm sure I could find someone as hot for you. After all, what sex hungry red blooded man wouldn't't jump at the chance to take you to bed?" I teased.
"You think so?" she cooed back at me. "Christ, Alison I can just imagine his feeling of hitting the jackpot a young black guy would get if, he thought he had a chance of bedding a gorgeous, married, slightly older white woman, like you."
"Oooh you make it sound so hot when you put it like that darling" she breathed into my ear. "Do you think that's why Joel from work seems to follow me around and fawns all over me then?"
"Does he?" I quizzed. "God yes, all the other girls make fun of him and tease all the time. Marcia reckons he is in love with me and fantasies over me at nights."
"And what do you think?" I asked her, my poor cock at the point of losing control during this sexy talk and continued stroking.
"I'm old enough to be his mother."
"You just don't get it do you sweetheart -- that's the fatal attraction for younger guys. An experienced, motherly, sexy, mature, curvy woman is every young guy's fantasy. Add to the mix the fact that he is black and has the ultimate dream of screwing a white, sexy mature, experienced woman and you get close. If she is married, and married to a white guy then the thought of sinking into her white married pussy is the ultimate for them. It is the ultimate turn on for a young black guy."
"Jesus, I had no idea," she uttered, genuinely enlightened.
"Think about it honey. It's the same as a white woman's deepest fantasy of being taken by a well endowed black. Deep, deep down it lurks in every woman. It's the "What would it be like, sixty four thousand dollar, carnal question."
"Therefore, if you get the situation of a mature, married, white woman in the company of a young, hung black guy you can expect fireworks in the lust departments."
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