I opened my eyes, startled. Nothing had disturbed me; no noise, no discomfort, just a disturbing feeling of absence in our bed. The absence of her breathing, the warmth of her body... A thunderous silence had torn me from sleep.
It was eight in the morning, according to the clock on the bedside table. I led to the bathroom and washed myself. The mirror showed me a tired face. Dark circles under my eyes were the traces left by my inner battle. I arranged my hair and went back to the room. I picked up my wife's panties that were lying on the floor.
What were they doing there?
Suddenly, memories, tension, restlessness, frustration, and sorrow, came to me. I went looking for Silvia. I imagined my wife in the kitchen but I was wrong and I continued almost naked towards the stairs. I discovered her leaning against the window with a cup of coffee in her hands. She seemed lost in her thought, absent. A stream of nostalgia, maybe sadness... Was my imagination putting those emotions into her?
Silvia turned back and offered me a tense smile, then returned to her introspection looking through the window. Her golden hair, slightly mussed from sleep, fell elegantly to her lower back, framing her heart-shaped face with thick lips. With her perfect, doll-like features, my wife exuded beauty and aristocratic elegance, her dressing gown hugging her curvaceous figure, emphasizing her full, round breasts.
My attention went to the markings her boss had left on her swan neck like sexual branding to signify her new status. I counted three hickeys on her throat and two on each boob. Instinctively, I put my arms around her and she took refuge in my chest.
"Have you been here long?" I said, leaving a kiss on her cheeck.
"I don't know... an hour, something like that. I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you up."
I began to massage her as if she needed to warm up. But Silvia turned around until she was facing me, then she lowered her cute face.
"What's wrong, honey?" I asked.
"It's like... a stinging sensation in the vagina." She looked at my eyes, testing me. The first reference to what happened with her boss. Yesterday, she'd taken so much black cock that the soreness between her legs made it difficult for her to walk - no doubt a constant reminder to her of the reality of what she'd let her boss do to her.
"Does it hurt?" I asked.
"A little."
I didn't know what to say. She looked at me and wrongly interpreted my silence as a reproach.
"Do you regret it?" I finally said.
She sighed... a deep sigh that gave way to a silence from which, I was sure, a bitter answer would emerge.
"I don't know, really, I don't know. There's been so many things... I need to think." Silvia looked up, her expression startling. "I have to put my mind in order." I don't know what she saw on me because she immediately put her hands on my shoulders and said: "Don't take it like that, I need some time to think, that's all..." and turned back to the window.
I didn't understand his reaction, and wasn't prepared for such an abrupt change. I felt annoyed by her attitude. " I don't know why you're acting like this."
"I know you, I know what you're thinking."
That hurt me deeply.
"Oh yeah, really?" I took a few steps back. "You're right..., I'd better leave you alone."
A man who acts out of spite often harms others. A woman driven by spite ends up harming herself. Silvia took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Swallowing hard, her legs felt unsteady as she walked to the kitchen. As she prepared a coffee, Silvia considered the heavy burden that weighed her down. Sorrow? No, but it wasn't guilt either, perhaps it was more like a feeling of loss. Why did she have to feel so bad, so different from how she felt just a few hours before?
She took refuge in the everyday tasks to calm the restlessness that tormented her, trying to exorcise the demons that had been assailing her. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands gripping the edge tightly as if seeking an anchor in the storm of her emotions. Her mind raced wildly, replaying the events of the past 24 hours on a loop. Suddenly she realized that her life had dramatically changed. That afternoon in Okusanya's office. How different he was from me!
Self-confident, assertive... her black boss had a side of... dark dominance that I, her husband, lacked and she never thought she would tolerate in a man. Okusanya did not impose himself in an aggressive or violent way, his way of commanding was almost natural. When he offered her a promotion in the NGO, he behaved with authority, an authority she did not know how to confront and ended up defeated. The first defeat of her life that she did not feel as such.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered.
What kind of power did he have over her? She didn't recognize her own behavior, she never imagined herself so... horny. Yes. That was the only word that could define her state. She was crazy to take that big black cock back inside and feel how he filled her with African sperm.
"I'm delirious," he muttered.
He was just an attractive man with a strong personality, and she had let herself be seduced at a particularly sensitive moment, when her libido was ridiculously high because of the damn fertility pills.
A growing wall of rancor separated her from me, her husband. She couldn't help it: she felt resentment towards me for challenging her to that stupid test of fidelity which had an outcome that neither of us expected. Our kinky game had gotten out of hand. And although she knew she wasn't innocent either, she considered me the main responsible.
She kept looking through the window, but her mind evoked other images before which she felt powerless. She saw herself falling on her knees before Okusanya, surrendered to his manhood. On her knees, sucking her boss's cock... she was the living image of submission.
Such an image excited and scandalized her at the same time. It broke all her ideals of being a strong, independent woman. But another scene was superimposed: her submissive husband, sucking the semen of her black lover she still kept in her devastated pussy.
"How could be Paul so docile!" She whispered.
Silvia took another sip of the coffee that was beginning to get cold, trying to forget that vivid image of herself, face up on her boss's desk, spreading her legs, offering her sex. What a slut! A flash of pleasure ran through her back and then came the fear of losing control, the terror of the unknown...
Submission to her boss and power... a new power over her husband.
She knew that yesterday night I had enjoyed but at the same time, she felt anguish. "There is no turning back," she told herself. "Cuckold, you left me alone, you fucking bastard, I needed you and I didn't have you by my side..."
The images crowded together, racing through her mind. Her fertile womb was desecrated, subdued, and forced, and those disturbing emotions transformed into ecstasy. Mating like animals, her legs entwined around his waist, holding him, even when he gained momentum to unleash all his fury against her pussy. Okusanya snorted like an angry bull and Silvia lay down, oozing his dense African sperm, her sex still throbbing.
Submission. That's the word, she thought. Why was she so drawn to it? A sudden blush warmed her cheeks at that thought.
"What a slut!" She shook her head, denying the word she had just spoken. How could she have done it?
However, the emotion that dominated her was so intense that she feared the inevitable in their next encounter. She had fought against that idea all night long. Silvia knew herself, she knew when a battle was lost. The most she could do was delay it for a few days, maybe a week. Her mind assumed it was inevitable. The guilt and shame were still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now she felt more in control, less at the mercy of her rampaging emotions.
