It's been little over a month now and I still find it hard to believe it all happened so quickly. Me, dutiful wife in a vanilla marriage to becoming now, um, let's just say, a little more interesting.
Let's have a recap and see how it came about.
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Monday:
Sitting in my kitchen and thinking about the weekend.
Yep, I'm married?
Do I have kids? No.
How old am I? Thirty four...
How long have I been married? Twelve years.
Um, what else?
Hmm. Oh yes, am I really cheating on my husband with a black man?
Umm, 'cheating'? Well, maybe, but not in so many words.
I am seeing a beautiful black man... but my husband knows.
My husband doesn't play with me much these days... instead he lets me play with other men, as long as I keep him up to date on all that is going on.
How did I meet my big beautiful black man?
Hmm, it's complicated or maybe not so complicated.
******
I've always been the adventurous one of our marriage, always willing to try out new things, like Asian street food, scuba diving, abseiling and crazy stuff like that.
My husband on the other hand has always just kind of retreated to what is comfortable. I love him but I never loved that as we have gotten older, as we have matured, my sexual drive has only increased while he has become more disinterested.
It's not that my husband is tiny or anything like that. God knows, he has always worked really hard to please me; it's just that he does it less now than he used to.
This weekend we were at neighbourhood house-warming party but I was the only who was really wanting to be there, hubby wasn't too bothered about socialising as he was missing football on TV.
So, there was this guy there who I'd seen around who doesn't live in our street but who I've noticed time-to-time walking by our house. He's a rather tall, good looking black guy and he caught my eye. I've always been somewhat attracted to black guys. Something about them, the lips, the skin colour, the promise of their supposed sexual prowess or maybe it was the confident manner they have about them, almost seems like an arrogance.
I seen it many times, whether it was when I've been out shopping, in a supermarket or maybe at a pub or wherever, if ever I found myself talking to black guy he would always maintain eye contact, like he was shamelessly checking me out, and often along with the eye contact there would be the gentle touch of the arm while I'm talking; maybe a hand in the small of my back if we both happen to exit a restaurant or a shop at the same time.
Anyway, I met this guy at the party and this encounter was no exception.
As we talked and, yes, flirted, he would keep his eyes locked on mine, touch my arm when he said something clever and it felt so exciting. There I was with my husband at the same party and, although he didn't see me, there I was talking to a good looking, tall black man with his hand on my arm.
It was tiresome to be standing so we moved our conversation to the garden and a set of lawn chairs. My black friend grew more forward and when he would say something 'clever' he would place his hand on my knee. A little later as he became even more 'clever' he would touch my thigh. It was so sexy and I knew I was getting a little damp with all the touching. As he spoke I somehow found myself looking at the bulge of his shorts, yes, the reported size and thoughts of his abilities kept running through my mind...
Anyway, it was good to get to know each other for the first time and when it was time for us to go he hugged me and I appreciated it when he held me just a little longer than your standard hug. I didn't let go either and I figured we both wanted to make sure the other one would know we were interested.
So I (with my husband!) went home and, in so many words, shared my story with him. He didn't seem particularly interested or showed signs of being angry. His reaction kind of led on from the recent discussions we've been having recently about our marriage and what it means to be committed and faithful to each other; my growing frustration in the bedroom; his workaholic weekdays. Those conversations had gone as far as us deciding that one day we could handle the idea of me venturing out. I told him, "Well, now I wanted to venture out.!"
Having said that, I was aware that I might be making assumptions and that the conversation situation with Collin might be just a onetime thing and it wasn't even guaranteed that Collin would be interested. For sure, he's the tall, good looking black man and I'm, well, I'm white, willing and able which is no guarantee of anything further than party conversation going any further than that.
However, talking with hubby, it was agreed if the perfect circumstances came up again, that if it were to happen, it must be kept a secret between us; that we must observe safety measures and, most important, we have respect for each other if the perfect circumstances came up again.
Well, those perfect circumstances magically appeared a couple of weeks later.
******
Wednesday, two weeks later:
About two weeks after the neighbourhood party I was at the local supermarket when who do you suppose I see? Yep, you've guessed, it was Collin, my tall dark and handsome man of my most recent fantasies; the one who I was constantly thinking about when playing with my favourite black dildo!
In those two weeks since I had last seen him I had had more chats with my husband which had confirmed that he would not be mad if I took that fateful step and it had been two weeks that my interest in Collin had turned into full blown lust. Was it a craving; an obsession? Nah, I think it was best described as full animalistic, magnetized, insanely hot and always wet LUST!
Anyway, there I was in the drinks aisle to be exact, and I came up behind him and said something stupid and goofy and obvious like, "hey stranger!"
He turned and smiled the sexiest smile alive (well, that's how I saw it) and he said something like, "I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to see you again."
I melted and knew I had him at that point! I smiled back and touched his arm like he had touched mine at the party. We talked some more, joked a little, flirted a little more, touched here and there and then he asked me if I would want to get some coffee sometime or maybe a drink.