This story contains interracial sex with cuckolding, cheating and gay (male) elements.
Chapter One
I met Maria Sands at a friend's flatwarming party. She lived across the landing and had been invited out of neighbourly politeness. Maria had an elfin quality -- 'quirky looking' was my friend's verdict. Long chestnut hair cascaded down her back, and her wide, dark eyes had a disarming frankness that I found captivating. We got chatting, and I discovered she was a professional musician -- a violinist with the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Her privileged background was in sharp contrast to my modest upbringing. Maria was an artist to my artisan outlook. While she produced magic and beauty, I thrived in the belly of capitalism that was the Square Mile, London's financial district.
Maria was twenty-three to my twenty-six, and I was enchanted by her before the evening was out. She was cool and reserved on our first few dates, which, as a good-looking guy-- I'm six feet tall with a shock of blond hair -- I took as a personal affront, and I made it my mission to win her favour.
Gradually, Maria warmed to me and welcomed me into her heart and then into her bed. I was an experienced guy when it came to sex, but with Maria, it was my first time with someone I was unashamedly in love with. I was nervous, anxious, and thankful that we both enjoyed the experience. It was gentle, loving, and emotionally a revelation.
I dated Maria for a year, and then we married. Three months ago, we travelled to Monaco to celebrate our two-year wedding anniversary. I, Johnny Garret, had the financial world at my feet and a Princess by my side. I could see nothing but success and happiness ahead. My world was perfect.
Then, one fateful morning, my perfect world began to tilt on a redirected letter--a kind soul doing someone a favour.
The name on the letter was Sandie Marie, and it was Maria's old address. Someone had scribbled our address, and it finally arrived on our doormat. The letter was from a health clinic and being nosy and not giving a shit about Sandie Marie, I opened it.
"Good news for Sandie," I chuckled. She had tested negative for a wide range of STIs. The form also included a prescription for the female version of PrEP, which was a good indicator of the life Sandie Marie led.
I balled the letter and tossed it. Sandie was in the clear, so there was no need to send it back to the clinic, and, more importantly, I didn't care.
I forgot about the letter until a few days later when Maria was going through the post.
"Hey, we got this weird letter the other day. To a Sandie something, a Sandie Marie."
"Weird, how?"
"It was from a clap clinic. STI's and all that."
She pulled a face. "Why did they send it here?"
I explained the redirect, but she remained puzzled. "Why there? Does a Sandie live there now?"
"Dunno, babe." I went back to my phone.
"Where is it?"
"Chucked it. Waste paper bin in the hall."
Maria went into the hall and retrieved the letter.
"Why are you so bothered?" I asked.
"Curious, that's all--Ha! It's not my old address. I was Springwood Av. This says Springside Av!"
Maria was right. I hadn't noticed. "Mystery solved," I said.
"Oh my God! This poor girl getting tested for all this. Do you think she was assaulted?"
I assumed she was a slut, a whore or both. I didn't voice my opinion.
"I should ring the clinic and let them know." Maria picked up her phone.
"It says she's clean, and she probably got a duplicate letter."
"We don't know that--hello?" Maria disappeared, explaining the mix-up over the letter and apologising for opening it. She returned a few minutes later, looking happier. "They were very nice about it and asked me to return the letter."
"Why?"
"Policy. It's a confidential letter opened by someone other than the recipient and has to be returned and logged as destroyed."
It sounded like bureaucracy gone mad, but I didn't argue. I hadn't cared three days ago, and I cared even less now.
"I'll pop round and hand it in personally. It's not far from the rehearsal studio."
"Babe! Just put it--"
Maria stilled my protests with a raised hand. "This Sandie deserves to know that she's okay. Probably out of her mind with worry! And the post has failed this poor girl so far."
"This poor girl takes PrEP."
"So?" Then: "What's that?"
"Look it up."
She did and was quiet for a few minutes. "This proves nothing. If anything, Sandie should be commended for taking precautions and getting regularly tested."
"Regularly?"
Maria flushed. "You are being judgemental and unkind!"
I retreated and hoisted the white flag. "You're right, and I apologise."
"So, you should." Mollified by my apology, Maria went to the kitchen to prepare a light evening meal.
We broke open a bottle of wine, and around ten o'clock, Maria suggested an early night. I was getting the vibe and eagerly agreed, giving her arse a swat as I ushered her to the bedroom. She giggled as I pushed her on the bed--she liked me taking charge. I yanked up her skirt and parted her legs. I leaned over and kissed her, my hand straying up her thigh. Maria's panties were damp, and my finger slipped inside her. Fuck, she is wet! I didn't say anything as she dislikes crude talk or referencing her natural bodily reactions.
"I'm really wet, babe!" she whispered, biting my lip.
Okay, scratch that last bit! "Yeah?" I yanked her knickers down and pushed her legs open as I climbed between them.
I didn't bother getting undressed; just unbuttoned my pants and took her without thinking.
"Ohhh!" Maria grabbed hold of me, grinding me as much as I was fucking her.
It was hot, sweaty and steamy. I was so turned on, I climaxed in a matter of minutes. I tried to hold back, but it was a lost cause. To my surprise, she yelled that she was cumming, and we pretty much nailed a simultaneous climax.
Go us!
Maria lay there, breathing heavily. I headed to the bathroom, took a piss and wandered back in. Maria was still lying there, legs apart and cum leaking from her pussy. Fuck that is hot! I wanted to take a picture of her but knew she would freak out.
"That was great!" I smiled.
"Mmmm!" She sounded like the cat that got the cream. My cream.
I was curious to know what prompted her mood, but didn't want to spoil the moment. Eventually, she stirred and disappeared to the bathroom. I went down and brought up the rest of the wine. She came out naked, and I raised my glass in silent tribute to her slender figure, firm pert breasts and that cute patch of fuzz just above her pussy. I wanted her to shave completely, but she said it would be inappropriate. Quite who was going to find it inappropriate was a fucking mystery. The pussy police?
"Wine?" I brandished the bottle.
"Just brushed my teeth!" She took a glass anyway. There wasn't much left. "That was really great, Johnny. Everything was just right."
No pressure on the next time, then. "Yeah, it all just clicked and blam!" I mimicked an explosion.
She laughed. "Pretty much."
We lay there in silence. I could sense she wanted to talk.
"It was that woman, Sandie," she finally murmured.
