"Just my luck!" I said getting to the hotel for the last minute business trip and conference foisted on me by my boss. The flight was awful with turbulence nearly all the way and a smelly seatmate to boot; and I had to leave my husband alone on his birthday. But at least he could see the big game live; or so I thought. The bowl tickets had cost a pretty penny, but he could take his no good friend Bill with him. You ever realize something with crystal clarity? Well I had one of those moments, the tickets, for the game that night, were in my bag which was tucked nice and cozy in the overhead bin. In my haste to pack I had forgotten to put them on the table.
My mind raced through every possible way of getting the tickets to him. But it was only hours to the game and I was on the other side of the country. I called my husband. It would be his big "four-oh" birthday the next day. It was bad enough he had to spend it without me, but now I had even messed up the big present. All he had to show for my effort were a pair of two thousand dollar book marks, and he would not even get them until I came back, after his birthday. I guess I would not be making "wife of the year" anytime soon.
"I'm so sorry." I told him. But he was cool about it, saying he did not want to mess me up before a big deal, and what was done was done.
"Besides I can drink all the beer I want at home." He said putting a good face on everything. I promised to make it up to him, but how? Wait until the big game next year? Get my money back from the local ticket scalpers?
I went to what ultimately (big surprise) proved to be a totally unnecessary business meeting that I could have handled, no correct that, the guy who brings the coffee cart around the building could have handled, through email. This compounded the thoughts about how to make it right to my husband. "What could I give him from across the country?" My mind ran down a list of gift services, but they all seemed to, well, suck. It would have been different if it was any other birthday, or if I was at home or something. If I was at home I could do something special for him like his big fantasy. Then I stopped in the hall. Did I dare do it?
My husband had had this fantasy for years. At first he could not talk about it, he would sort of hint at it around the edges, but then one day it came out, he wanted to see me get fucked by a black man. Now I take our marriage vows seriously so that was not going to happen. Plus I might have been a bit prejudiced towards black men. Through the years, however, I became a bit more relaxed about it, at least as far as providing him with a good many "jerk-off" fantasies about my pussy being stretched out my some muscular black stud.
There was this one time, it was at a barbeque we had had where I was a little drunk. I was dancing while he attended to the grill and one of his black friends danced next to me then with me. That night he got so horny thinking and talking about it I swear I thought his cum was going to hit the ceiling.
I resolved that if I did not go through with it I would at least give him a good show. At thirty eight I have made a point of keeping myself in good shape. My ass has gotten a little bit bigger, not that he complains. And my 32Cs are still firm. With my short blonde hair I still turn a lot of heads. I went down to the lobby and got a cab over to a lingerie shop I had looked up on my smartphone. The plan was I would go back to the room and turn on the video conference feature on my laptop computer and play with myself. I made a point of going to the sex toy section and buying a realistic black rubber dildo, a very realistic (and bit scary) silicone one based on a mold taken from a real life porn store, and some lube. The counter-girl gave me a knowing wink.
I got into the cab and went back to the room, I still had a seminar and some workshops to attend. I called my husband and told him I had a surprise for him, but he had to be alone; meaning no friends over. He was curious. I felt just doing it alone in a strange hotel room, even if it was only with the big sex toys I bought might be like me cheating with a "black-stud" to him. The other part of the fantasy was the tricky one. There was always a bit of humiliation in his fantasies. He wanted me to say how much better I liked black men than him. And also what was a bit hurtful was I had to tell him how much smaller his cock was. I was not sure I could do that.
The day wore on as I collected manual after closet stuffing manual, which I would never read again. At one of the meetings there was a black guy who kept giving me the eye. I considered for a second perhaps using him for a second. Maybe a little dancing that I could somehow tape for my husband and let his imagination do the rest, or even use it for my "show" late. But I did not really want to get involved. You know what they say about eating where you... I asked around and found out he was from a local branch, and better yet he was a consultant, meaning he'd only be with the company for a short time.
I decided to do some misdirection. As the conferences wore on fewer and fewer of us wore our name badges. I stopped by the front and when nobody was looking I took someone else's name tag, which by sheer luck had the same first name as mine (less lies to remember).
At the next meeting he was there and I sat near him, I still did not know what I was going to do. The chair between us was empty and I plopped down in it to ask him a question. His eyes looked me over, even in my business suit he could see my figure. He suggested a buffet nearby for lunch. While talking he eyed my ring. I ordered a drink, and after a little bit more talking I felt comfortable around him. I could also see that bulge of his that wanted to tear through his pants. Perhaps a hand-job? It would make my husband loose his mind. I ordered another drink and then I laid the deal out for him, changing some details. He laughed saying it was not the first time he had been asked to do something like I described.
"Now I want to talk dirty to my husband but I do not want to hurt him." He nodded agreement. "And I am not sure how far I want to go. Is that okay by you?" He said it was okay. I told him to meet me up at my room in an hour.
I turned on the laptop and set it up across from the couch. I ordered up two drinks from room service being sure to put it on my own card, and not the company's account. Then I called my husband up on my cell phone.
"Honey remember all the times you have wanted me to try a black guy?" He said he had, maybe expecting some hot phone sex. "Well I met one at one of my meetings and he is coming upstairs to fuck the shit out of my pussy." There was long silence, I thought he was upset, then he got back on asking me if I was going to really do it. I told him this was his birthday present and though I did not know how far I was willing or able to go at the very least I was going to jerk his cock off. I asked him to check to see if he could see on the camera, he told me yes.
"Now this is it, it is going to happen in a few minutes, unless you tell me no." He said he wanted to see this more than anything in the world. "Are you sure? Things could change." He told me again that he was okay about it.
"Okay then happy birthday dear." I said. The drinks arrived and I could see him down the hall waiting for room service to leave. A minute later he knocked on the door.
There was some tension in the air. We both took our drinks and sat down on the couch. My husband was watching back home on his computer. "Well as I told you it is like this, my husband has had this fantasy of me, having sex with a black guy. So since it his birthday..."
