My Wife Starts Dating Black Ch 01

WARNING: This is an interracial cuckolding story, with plenty of humiliation and gay cuckold behavior. If these themes make you squeamish in any way, then PLEASE do not read my story. Just skip it. For folks who enjoy interracial cuckolding with humiliation and gay cuckold behavior, I hope you do enjoy it. Let me know!

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I had just come home from a long day at the office. My adorable wife, Emily, had gotten home a little bit earlier from her also-demanding job. She handed me a drink, and suggested we sit and catch up.

I had a hunch something was up. Some scheme that I might or might not like. Something that Emily had her mind set to. I just had the feeling. When you're married a few years, like we were, you know how to read your spouse. At least a little.

"What is it, Boo?" I asked her once we were settled in the living room, on opposite ends of the sofa, as we liked, each with our feet up.

"Well..." she started slowly. "I have an idea to run by you."

"Yeah, okay. I'm listening. Go ahead."

"Well... It wasn't *my* idea, I should say first."

"Uh, okay." I had literally no idea what we were talking about, so I was just speaking "filler" until Emily finally would tell me what was up.

Emily is a really adorable woman, I should emphasize. Super cute. And I like cute. 5'6". Dirty blonde hair and blue-gray eyes. Pretty features. Very young looking even at thirty. Thin, but with a lovely flair to her hips, a cute ass, and generous c-cup breasts. I think her measurements are something like 32-25-35. Sexy. She didn't flaunt it, but if you knew her well, you figured it out.

"Well... Ciara was telling me about this friend of hers and Nick's who is new to town..."

"Yeah," I said for maybe the thirtieth time.

"Since you are working so much at night lately, they thought that maybe I would keep him company some evenings... You know, as a friend..."

"As a 'friend,' Emily?" I queried. "You're a woman... a married woman, I might add! And *my* wife!"

"Yes, I know, Boo... And of course I can't let anything jeopardize our marriage... I wouldn't... but you know I'm bored and lonesome when you're working so much... Ciara says that Malcolm is a very stand up fellow, and would be super respectful of me and of us being married."

"Uh... So why doesn't Ciara set Malcolm up with one of her *SINGLE* friends?" I asked, incredulous.

"Well..." Emily began to speak and then just simply paused.

"Oh!! She was going to set him up with a single friend but *YOU* said that you wanted to spend time with this guy, Malcolm!?! It was *YOUR* idea, too, wasn't it, Emily?!!!"

I had her number. Not that she was good at lying, and certainly she had begun to blush and look embarrassed.

"What's the *WHOLE* story here, Boo??" I asked. We both used "Boo" as a nickname for the other.

"Well... Ciara was telling me about Malcolm... And how he is this really good looking basketball player she was friendly with from college... Nice, handsome, good-natured, fun to be with, and likes to go dancing--like I like to but you don't... And how his wife passed away from cancer last year, and he just got traded to the Lakers..." (We live in a different city, but I've changed the team for the story.)

I sat quietly and Emily continued. "...And she told me he was sick of all the basketball groupies and needed a steadier woman to hang out with some... a good listener... She thought I would be a good choice because all her single friends would be too needy and glassy-eyed..."

"Oh!" I interjected. "And this doesn't have anything to do with how you enjoyed fucking built, hung black athletes all through sophomore year of college then, hunh?!?" I asked pointedly.

Emily and I had dated on and off through college, but most of her sophomore year, while I was a junior, we were "off," and she famously fucked most of the basketball team. I heard about it through the grapevine. We had never talked about it before now. I was too intimidated to ask her anything about it directly when she came back to dating me again, and then it had stayed an unspoken-about topic--until now.

"Oh!" Emily said. "I didn't realize that you knew about that, Boo... Uhhh... Well, I suppose if we're getting extra honest about it, it did cross my mind that if I end up attracted to Malcolm, that maybe I could beg a 'hall pass' off of you... You know, like we kid around about *both* ways sometimes... Just like you daydream about fucking that young girl, Melissa, at your office... I can have fantasies, too, can't I?!"

"There's a big difference, Emily, between joking around and fantasies and actually putting in motion a plan to get fucked outside of our marriage! You've actually started a plan!! I can't believe it!" I yelled at her, and I stormed off. Storming off seemed like a more mature reaction than having a bigger argument.

Emily left me be and didn't try to argue it any more with me. She was good that way. If she was out-argued, she would let it rest--at least for a while. In fact, we didn't really talk again other than minimally--about logistics of who was going to be where when--for a couple of days. It gave me time to think and take stock.

The truth of it was the idea of Emily getting blacked excited me. Back when we were in college, and I heard about her fucking the black athletes all year, I would beat off visualizing it. Even in marriage, when I would occasionally masturbate, I would usually be visualizing my darling wife getting blacked. And that night when Emily told me that she would like to spend time with Malcolm and perhaps fuck him, it gave me a hard on. I didn't think she'd noticed my hard on, but I did.

I beat off a couple of times about the idea of her dating the black athlete, Malcolm (not his real name). I had googled him and seen what a handsome stud he looked like, and visualizing him fucking my petite, cute white wife was extremely exciting to me. I had a couple of great cums masturbating to the idea.

I had also heard that increasingly couples were trying various different types of polyamory, and I wondered to myself, "Golly, maybe Emily fucking black guys--maybe that would work for our marriage?"

I decided to be brave and ask her some more questions with an open mind.

This time, I led us to sit down together to talk some more.

"Boo, can we sit down and be real honest with each other, some?" I asked her.

"Of course, Dear!" Emily offered enthusiastically.

"Let's start by helping me understand some things better, if I might," I said.

"Sure thing, Boo. Ask away!" Emily replied.

"Do you miss those big black cocks that you fucked for that year in college?" I started directly and right at the heart of the matter.

"Uh..." Emily stalled.

"You promised we would be honest," I reminded her.

"Yes, honey," she at last replied. "I'm sorry but I really do. I really miss the way those big black cocks felt all the way up inside me... I miss how they got so much deeper than your little white dick... Deeper than any white dicks I ever met, in fact... I miss how they stretched my pussy, and how they filled me up. They made me feel so much a woman. They made me feel so incredibly feminine. And taken. And 'owned,' even... To be open about it--like you asked!--the orgasms were out of this world. I came so hard and really often. I'm sorry, Boo... It was the most incredible sex, and sometimes I wonder how I am able to do without it..."

"Uh-hunh," I merely responded, encouraging her to say more.

"And those big black muscular athletic bodies were so exciting, the way they could and would throw me around and pound me... And those big black succulent lips were so great for kissing... Yes, I miss everything about being blacked! I miss the whole package!" Emily confided.

"Wow, Em! That's quite the statement! So... I don't get it, why not just leave me and go black entirely? What do you need me for? Why did you ever even come back to me?" I asked her earnestly.

"Oh, Boo! Because I love you! And I want to spend my lifetime with you! And I want to go through all of life's journey and have a family with you! That's why! I just miss black guys for sex--and our relationship is so much more than that!" Emily said.

"Oh! Okay! Well, that's a relief to hear!" I responded. "But... But if you add black guys back for sex, what about me? What about sex between us? Doesn't that matter, too?"

"Oh!" Emily sweetly replied. "Of course it does, Boo! I promise you that you will love your new sex life even *more* than our sex life now, or we will keep making changes until you do! I promise your needs will be at the center, too!"

"Uh... But that's kind of vague, Emily... What does that exactly *mean*?" I asked.

"Well..." she said. "If I'm honest, I'm not 100% sure what it means... It just means that you have my commitment that you will be even happier with our sex life, and I won't rest until you are... We'll go through this adventure together to make you happy, too. I swear it..."

"But I'd really like to know what that means, Boo!" I said.

"Look... I don't really know... And I know that I've not always told you everything about myself, so I can appreciate your being nervous... But I'm a woman of my word, and I will never, ever, ever break a promise to you, Jeff... Maybe it will mean that you end up really loving watching me get blacked... Maybe it will mean you hate it, and I have to quit... I have my hunches, but only time will tell... Okay?"

Emily reached out her hand and gave it a squeeze, and leaned in and gave me a tender short kiss on the lips. Just enough to punctuate her little speech and reassure me.

It worked.

"Okay, Em. Thanks for adding all that... So where do we go from here?"

"Well... Why don't you allow me to lead on things for a little while, okay, Boo? For starters, I've got a date planned with Malcolm for two days from now, for Thursday night. Just cocktails and dinner, is the plan. How about I go on that, and let's see what happens, okay?" She smiled again at me reassuringly, before adding. "Give me your hand, Boo, I want to show you something."

I gave her my hand and she pulled it all the way to her waist. She was wearing sweats for bed. She pulled the waist open and pushed my hand down inside to her crotch, palm facing her pussy, and she pressed my open palm against her panties. They were incredibly wet. In fact, I couldn't remember her ever being so wet with me other than during sex--not ever.

"See how turned on I am, Boo, just from talking about and planning this?" Emily asked.

"Uh... uh... uh, wow-- I guess?!" I stammered.

"Yes, I really love being blacked, and this is just the beginning of how exciting this could be for me and for us... Do you think you might just love seeing me get fucked one-thousand times better than you or any white guy has ever fucked me? Do you think that might turn you on--maybe a little?" Emily asked with a grin. "Now, turnabout is fair play... Let's see how *you* are feeling, Jeff!"

Without waiting for my go-ahead, Emily reached over to explore my crotch with her hand.

"Well, well, well!" she observed. "I don't think I have *ever* felt you any harder than you are right now with your little fella! I think you are plenty excited! How about we take this into our room, and I show you my thanks for giving your 'okay' to our little adventure?"

I nodded my assent, and Emily led me by the hand. She pushed me down on our bed and then stripped me. Right as she was about to lean in and blow me she commented, "I think we need to get you used to blow jobs and hand jobs, Boo! If Malcolm is like my past black dates, he's going to want to keep my pussy all to himself. Might as well get you accustomed!"

We both assumed Malcolm was going to fuck her if they spent any significant time together. Emily knew from Ciara's description that she wanted to fuck him. And we both knew Emily's flawless track record at seducing Black athletes--between her cute, young white-girl good looks and her sweet personality. Definitely they were going to fuck if Emily made any effort. Almost no question.

For the past year or so, Emily had rarely given me a blowjob, and with her commentary, it was bittersweet and poignant. Part of me must have been really turned on to her pussy being reserved for her black date, however, as I felt euphoric under her lips, tongue, and fondling.

"Yes, Boo, Malcolm will probably insist that I fuck only him... And who knows, now that I'm not a teenager anymore, maybe he will even permanently stretch out my pussy after a few fucks... I might never be tight for you again!"

A few moments later, Emily added another taunt. "Maybe I'll love getting blacked so much this time, that I'll never, ever go back. Maybe I'll go black-only, and you will never, ever be in my pussy again!"

When Emily taunted me about going black-only, I came in massive spurts and thrashed on the bed. It might have been the biggest and best orgasm of my life. For our mutual safety, Emily took her mouth off and finished me with her hand. The orgasm seemed to last for a full minute--a huge amount of time of course for us guys.

When at last my energetic cumming subsided, I lay there with my eyes closed for a moment, enjoying Emily's hand resting in a sweet, comforting gesture on my shaft. I opened my eyes to see her beaming at me.

"Something tells me that you're looking forward to seeing me blacked, Boo! As I suspected! So terrific! I'm so glad we already see that we want the same thing for me--and for *us*!!"