My name is Tom. My wife Molly is twenty-eight. I’m hitting forty now and consider myself a very lucky man. Molly is my trophy wife.
I was up at the feed store one-weekend buying supplies for the herd when a man approached me and we started to talk. He was a tall slim black man. He walked over and shook my hand and introduced himself as Harry.
“You live up at the old Johnson house don’t you, Tom?”
I smiled as I tossed a bag of feed into my truck. “Yes, that’s right. The big white one down at the end of the dirt road.” Harry smiled as he leaned his arm on my truck. “Well, I know a lot about that old place you know. I worked there for several years before old man Johnson passed away.”
I turned around with interest on my face. “Oh, really? What sort of things did you do for the Johnson’s, Harry?”
Harry grinned as he helped me put the last bags of feed onto the back of the truck. “I guess you could say I was everything to them. I took care of the animals, the grounds and even worked as a handyman around the house.” Harry laughed then added. “I even drove Mrs. Johnson into town whenever she went shopping so I guess you could say I was their chauffeur too!”
“So, what do you do now that the Johnsons are gone?”
Harry sighed. “Well, I’ve been working here and there to make a few bucks when I can but I think I’ll be moving back to Alabama where my family is from and see what kind of jobs I can find there.”
I started thinking. I could sure use somebody like Harry out at the place. We had plenty of room and perhaps Harry could move right back into the guest house where he used to live. We talked for a long while and told him I’d speak to my wife. Molly felt relieved and excited that she was finally going to have some help taking care of our horses and the farm.
Harry moved in the following week. I can’t tell you how hard Harry worked on getting things fixed around the place. Molly even took him up on his offers of driving her into town to go shopping once a week. Harry practically took over the place within a few short months. We could always depend on him. Harry made sure everything ran like a finely tuned machine and we were pleased. Molly moved her shapely round ass on the bed as I kissed the crack of her cheeks than slapped her ass a couple times. She yelped out in pleasure and turned her head around and tried to look at me as she spoke.
“Come on baby, stop teasing me and fuck my ass.”
I slapped her bottom again only a lot harder and watched as her white flesh giggled to the touch of my bare hand. I used both hands on my wife’s ass this time and grabbed hold of each cheek and squeezed them hard. Molly couldn’t move much. I had both of her hands handcuffed to the front of the bed. I scooted down just far enough to bury my tongue between the cheeks of her ass and poked my tongue near her asshole. Molly arched her hips up trying to push her body back against my face. Her hips rocked from side to side as I held her cheeks apart. I leaned up and over my wife’s round ass feeling the warm hot white flesh against my thighs as I reached out and around and aimed for my wife’s nipples. I pinched each one very hard making her scream out with joy. She loved being treated like a slut. She was my wife and my slut whore. We loved this kind of fantasy play. It’s something we enjoyed since our dating days. I kept playing with Molly’s hard nipples and kneaded her large breasts with each hand making her moan with delight. I arched back up and slapped her ass really hard making her ass shake and quiver as she screamed out to me for more. “Please baby. I need you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock inside my ass….Please!”
I was rock solid hard. I reached for my tube of lubricant and rubbed a small amount over the head of my cock and around my shaft. I teased Molly for several minutes until she practically begged for my cock.
I carefully aimed it at her tight little ass and worked the head inside. I’m not that big so I slipped in rather easily after the head was inserted. I then grabbed hold of Molly’s ass and rode her like she was a horse. I kept shoving my cock deep into her ass while she strained on those handcuffs I had attached to the headboard. I didn’t last long and shot my seed inside her ass within a short few minutes leaving my wife hanging and unfulfilled as my cock shrank down to size.
“Damn you, Tom! Come on and make me cum! I need to cum baby…Please!”
I was panting and trying to catch my breath as I unlocked each cuff freeing Molly’s arms one at a time. She quickly flipped over positioning her ass on the bed and arched her legs back and started to play with her pussy. I knew what she wanted so I moved around on the bed and buried my face between her creamy white thighs and began to lick. My face kept hitting her working hand which was stimulating her clit at the time. I soon pushed my face up until I was able to move my hand away from her pussy so my tongue soon took over the job of stimulating her hard clitoris. Molly’s body moved and jerked all around the bed as I worked my tongue into her pussy. I brought my wife to three orgasms before I was done leaving her finally limp and exhausted on the bed as I got up and reached for a towel to wipe off my face.
I turned around and saw something out of the corner of my eye. I forgot all about the bedroom door being open. The hallway was dark but I was still able to see the dark figure of a man standing out in the darkness. He starred at me and I stared back. It was Harry. The next morning I walked out to the barn where Harry was feeding the horse. He said his typical good morning to me as we exchanged smiles as I drank my coffee. I walked around the table trying to figure out what to say to the man.
“I guess you saw everything last night?”
Harry stopped what he was doing and looked over at me saying. “Oh…Uh…..I’m really sorry about that, Tom. I came back in last night thinking something was wrong when I heard Molly screaming. You know it’s always better to check and make sure nothing is wrong.”
I smiled even though I was embarrassed about what he saw last night. “Oh, well….Thanks anyway, Harry. I appreciate your concern for us.” Harry went back to what he was doing than hesitated and turned around and what he said next pretty much took me over the edge in shock. “You know, Tom. I could give you some pointers on how to train that bitch of yours. Yes, sir, I could do a lot of things.” Harry was still moving the shovel in his hands as he spoke but stopped cold and gave me a stare I’ll never forget.
“What she needs is a good black dick up that tight little ass.” He boldly continued next saying. “You just let me know Tom, and I’ll work it out for us.”
Harry stepped closer until we were face to face. “I know what it’s like Tom. You white folks are all alike when it comes to acting all proper and nice. I heard Molly last week, you know.” My eyes opened wide as I listened to Harry speak. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. The night Molly was screaming for you to fuck her hard and she kept taunting you about how she was going to find out how big my black cock was!” I was in shock! I tried to shake my head and act like he was lying but it didn’t work. Harry reminded me of that night he was talking about. It was only talk. Molly loved to talk nasty when we were having sex and she mentioned Harry that night.
“Molly didn’t really mean it, Harry.”
Harry shook his head as he began working again then stopped for a second and added. “I know better. You’re all the same. Old man, Johnson was no different. He used to love watching me bang that white ass wife of his.”
“You mean to tell me you and Mrs. Johnson had a thing going?”
Your damn right we did. I owned the bitch and they knew it! For an old white bitch, she could fuck like a mink, let me tell you!”
I don’t remember exactly what was said next but we got into a heated discussion next that turned out a little nasty. Before it was all said and done I was standing there in that horse stall thinking about the proposition Harry had just given me. He said he could help us both enhance our sex life. What Harry wanted to do was make my wife his slut. He’s whore minded and he said it with passion and much confidence. What he then said to me gave me chills down my spine.
“Listen. I’ll have your wife walking around this stable before long begging you for cock. She’ll want that fire put out in that pussy of hers every single minute of the day.”
You know, I believed the man but I just wondered whose cock she would be begging for and who would be putting out that fire between her legs once he turned her into a wanted whore.
I was pissed at what he said and left the place in doubt. After couple of hours I came home and heard some weird noises from my bedroom, and walked in slowly; suddenly I ended up in shock. I could see Harry in-between Molloy’s legs and pounding her like a mad bull. She was screaming on top of her voice saying, ohhh fuckkkk me blacky,,,I I love you,,,fuck me harderr harder…..
But minutes passing by, I got a strange temptation to see them continue the fucking session, so I did not disturb them, instead got myself naked and walked into the bedroom and started to lick my wife’s pussy from a corner…..
“I’m not saying they are going to take the series, but I think they’ll force a game seven,” I said. Byron and I were sipping beers as we watched ESPN in closed caption on the bar television. Byron shook his head and smiled before he took a swig. “The Bulls are gonna put them away, my man. You can bank on that.”
Byron probably knew better than me. He was a tall black man with sharp angular facial features that looked as if they were hewn out of a piece of granite. He was lean and muscular; actually getting out on the court on a regular basis instead of my occasional game of hoops. He kept a neatly trimmed goatee and a smooth shaved head.
“You just don’t like the Bucks.”
“I think the Bucks had a good season. They made a good move bringing Jason Kidd in, but now it’s over. Better luck next year,” Byron chuckled.
“Well… we’ll see Thursday.”
“You sound you want to lose some money.”
“I’ll bet twenty bucks.”
“Twenty? I got two bills that say its game over for Milwaukee.”
I shook my head, “I don’t have two hundred dollars laying around to bet with, by.”
“I thought you were so sure Milwaukee would win?”
“People get hurt; they beat their wives or their children. I’m not two hundred dollars sure that nothing is going to happen between now and Thursday or even during the game.”
“Alright, alright. If the Bucks win, I give you two hundred dollars. If the Bulls win, you sign off on that lovely lady of yours giving me some dome.” I almost spit beer out in laughter, “Yeah, I’m sure Stephanie will be just fine with that. Right.”
“Oh, yeah. Some conversation, a couple beers- not drunk. I’m not saying drug her, but a bit more open-minded. With the right social massaging and you’re blessing I think she’d do it.”
I shook my head, “You don’t know Stephanie like I do.”
“Well, then you got nothing to worry about.”
“If-when, she storms off and never talks to you again or lets you in our house, it isn’t my fault.” Byron stuck his hand out. “Bet.”
I took it and we shook, “Bet.”
A few days later the Bulls beat the Bucks 120-66, their worst loss in franchise history. Byron called shortly after wondering if we could all hang out that Friday night.
Stephanie was a beautiful woman. A tight, athletic body with a thin waist and a tight, heart shaped ass, she went to the gym a few times a week and ran daily. Her b-cup breasts left a little to be desired, but I loved her smoky gray eyes and an elfin face. She had bronze hair that she often wore braided or wore up behind her head and occasionally wore down in cascading curls that ran just past her shoulders. She didn’t dress to draw the eye, but she still did. Her family was the country type. Her father and brothers were overachiever macho types. She followed them in their love of the outdoors, so she didn’t wear much makeup or dress too girly. Still, she looked great in a pair of jeans and her health and vibrancy didn’t need much make-up. I wished she’d grow her nails, but hunting and fishing didn’t allow for those frivolities to get in the way. Her professional and social life wasn’t much that of a girly girl either. She was a woman who relied on her brains and her accomplishments, not on her smile and attention-grabbing. She made more than I did with her degree in biochemistry. I always knew her to be responsible and conscientious. She was good with her money and wasn’t impulsive, never lazy. All the same, despite her good looks, her intelligence, her marvelous body, she didn’t seem to have much confidence in bed. She was never the initiator. Never the creative lover. Sex with Stephanie could almost be boring at times. It was always up to me to put some spice into the bedroom. I figured it was just a weak libido. Byron didn’t know what he was getting himself into.
The night Byron came over, Stephanie was in her usual attire: a pair of jeans (banging, they all were), and a t-shirt (gray). She had her hair up, pinned to the back of her head with some female hair gadget. She was minimalist on makeup and wore a pair of hoop golden earrings. Byron arrived in dark blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt that showed off his lean and taut upper body. Stephanie and Byron had always gotten along well together. They were both athletic and would often spar about run times. They once had a plank contest that Stephanie handily won. We settled down together with some light snacks and conversation. We had been drinking for a few hours, gradually growing tipsier. Byron was pressing beers on both of us, teasing when we weren’t keeping up and pressing us to finish our beers, but I suspected he wasn’t getting a fresh one for himself a few times when he went to the refrigerator. I certainly was feeling a little tipsy, and I could tell Stephanie was laughing harder at jokes and almost slurring her words a little. Gradually the conversation went from music to Kanye West to Kanye and Kim Kardashian’s baby.
“I’m just glad you never hear much about the interracial aspect of celebrity marriages these days,” Byron said. “It’s nice that people just accept other people as people.”
“I think it’s been pretty impolite for people to make comments like that for a long time,” Stephanie said. I could feel my heart speed up a little.
“Hell, Heidi Klum and Seal didn’t get married fifty years ago, but I remember folks saying some pretty out of pocket shit about them. I think a lot of people still think it, they just don’t have the guts to say it anymore. We’ve at least gotten far enough to shut them up. A lot of people say they aren’t racist, but when it comes to it they’ll totally treat people like they’re some kind of animal.”
“Yeah,” Stephanie nodded. “You’re probably right about that.”
“You ever dated a black man, Stephanie.”
Did my heart stop or speed up?
She hesitated, “No, but…”
“Stephanie you’re gorgeous. I know you’ve had a lot of guys hit on you, and brothers aren’t shy like white guys be being.”
“Well, yeah,” she blushed.
“So why didn’t you ever give them a chance?”
Stephanie took a deep breath. “I’m sure the color of their skin didn’t have anything to do with it,” she stuttered a bit.
“Phhbt,” Byron did almost before she could finish. “Am I right, bro?” He looked at me.
Things were moving fast in my head now even without the alcohol. “Phhbt,” was all I could manage.
Stephanie turned and glared at me. “I’m not racist.” Her embarrassment had turned to anger. Byron was on the dangerous ground now. He would never pull it off.
“Yet you’ve never had sex with a black man, much less went out on a date?”
“And that makes me racist?” Stephanie turned her medusa stare to Byron.
Byron didn’t hesitate, “Bro, what do you think? I say we give her a chance right now. She gives me head right now she isn’t a racist.”
I was frozen.
“What!” Stephanie shrieked. I’d never seen her lose her polite tameness like that before. I figured it was the alcohol. “That has to be the rudest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said slowly, regaining her composure a little. She turned to me, “Nick?”
Byron stared at me, raised an eyebrow and smiled. He seemed perfectly relaxed.
“It’s not a big idea,” I squeaked out.
“Not a big deal?” Stephanie’s voice almost reached shrieking level again.
Byron’s deep laugh descended upon her near histrionics. “I’m just playing, Stephanie. You’re so easy, look at yourself,” he laughed.
Stephanie blushed. “Sorry… just… I couldn’t believe that.”
The throbbing in my chest subsided.
“You never even kissed a black man?” Byron said with a note of incredulity.
Brought back down to earth, Stephanie rubbed her forehead, “Never.” And I sighed inside with relief. Just like I said, never going to happen.
“Well, in case you’re ever in this situation again, give me a kiss and can state with great affirmation you’ve kissed a black man.” Again he let forth deep laughter. “And Nick won’t get murdered.” Stephanie blushed. She mover next to Byron and kissed him on the cheek. My heart rate began to speed up again. He put a hand on her upper arm gently, “On the lips, Stephanie. We aren’t in Europe.” She smiled, embarrassed, and gave him a peck on the lips. Now his other hand was on her waist, pulling her near him. “I’m not your brother,” he crooned softly. She hesitated and looked back at me. Byron stared at me. My throat was constricted to the width of a sewing needle. I raised my hand and waved it in a gesture I hoped would convey the meaning, ‘go ahead,’ but in my mind felt more like a king waving away a dish he didn’t find appetizing. I’m not sure that was what my body felt though. I couldn’t be getting turned on by this. She turned back towards him and I could hear them kiss. In a couple seconds Stephanie’s body began to loosen. I heard her breathe in in a deep shuddering intake of air. She pulled away and his hand was on her head pulling her back to him, and she stayed there as his hand cascaded down her head, neck, back and to her ass. Stephanie sighed softly as he squeezed it. One hand went to his chest.
My chest ached badly now. I felt like I was on some drug, cocaine or amphetamines. This wasn’t real. I hadn’t drunk that much, but I wasn’t in control of my body. I wondered if I had been drugged. He covered her hand on his chest with his own and slowly pulled it down his belly. I saw her stiffen in resistance a little at his waist, but he forced her, and when it reached him she relaxed and started to stroke him slowly. She pulled away from his mouth, but he was ready with his hand in her hair. Byron spoke softly and gently, “‘It’s no big deal,’ he said. You want to. Go ahead. Tomorrow everything will be the same and it will be… no big deal. The new experience you didn’t have the day before.”
She started to turn but Byron had her head in both hands, “Don’t look away. Relax. Enjoy it.”
Stephanie started kissing him again, and clumsily tried to unbutton Byron’s jeans with one hand. He helped her after a second and she slid her hand inside. She stilled suddenly
“Oh, my god,” I heard her whisper.
She pulled out an enormous dick. It was wider than a paper towel roll and maybe two thirds as long. She looked down at it, sliding her hands up in down it, gazing at it almost transfixed. Then she slowly sank down to her knees between Byron’s legs. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. If anything, Stephanie was a timid lover. She never initiated anything, and in lovemaking made the least of sounds. This was more animation than I had ever seen. She was never much interested in oral sex and when asked she said it was ‘kind of gross,’ and would lapse into scientific speak and say it was, ‘unnatural.’ Stephanie caressed her hands up and down it, looking down. I saw a thin string of saliva bead on her lower lip and fall. She was breathing deeply. Byron’s hand went to her chin and lifted her head up to look into her eyes. His thumb slipped into her mouth. She licked it tentatively as he smiled and nodded. She lowered her head and began sliding her tongue around his stiff cock, her eyes closed, mouth gaping in a ragged shudder.
“That’s right, baby. Enjoy yourself,” Byron told her softly. He pet her head gently. She was essentially making love to his huge cock. Kissing it and lapping it with a passion I had never seen in her before. Her whole body was engaged in pleasing him. She bent over him and slid her lips down onto him, moaning softly, sliding up and down. She could barely fit half of him into her mouth. His hands met in her hair. A few tresses had fallen out of her hair contraption and were splayed out like a spider’s legs around her face.
Byron held her head gently, “Slow down,” he said. “Relax.”
Her head slipped further down. She gagged and pulled off of him. Saliva dripped off he lips and she panted.
“Relax,” he repeated. “Just let it open up.”
She put her head down again, slowly lowering it down to his majestic dick. This time it slipped further into her mouth and throat, each time deeper. Again she moaned. It had to be going into her throat. I could feel myself hard as a rock. “Go ahead and touch yourself, Steph. I know you’re wet,” Byron told her.
Stephanie’s hand went between her legs. She pressed firmly on the seam of her pants in her crouch. Immediately her body shuddered, and she almost fell down on him.
“Undo your jeans, get on in there,” his voice was hypnotic.
Without ever taking him out of her mouth she unfastened her belt and undid her tight jeans. Her hand slipped into her pants and she started moaning on him louder as she sucked, her body rocking a little.
I sat there in amazement, clearly turned on by the spectacle: Byron gazing down at my girlfriend as she bent over him, ass in the air, sucking his dick and moaning on it as she fingered herself. She would slide it out of her mouth and kiss and lick it while she stroked it, then lick all the way up and fill her mouth with it, pressing her mouth down until I was sure it was sliding in and out of her throat.
Byron leaned forward and grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it off her revealing a pink bra that hugged her small breasts.
“You like that dick?” he asked softly as her shirt came off.
“Yes,” I heard her whisper.
“Turn around and get on your hands and knees.”
She hesitated a second, turned and assumed the position, never looking at me, breathing deeply. He knelt behind her and slid his dark hands down her waist. Stephanie closed her eyes. His hands slipped beneath her jeans and pushed them off her ass. “Mm, mm, mm. What a beautiful ass,” Byron said as he felt it as if he were holding the Maltese Falcon.
Stephanie was wearing pink panties that matched her bra. Byron’s hands slipped into them and pushed them down, pulled them and her jeans both off Stephanie’s willowy legs. She was now almost naked on all fours in front of Byron. She wore nothing but a pink bra, pink socks, two golden hooped earrings, and whatever device still held most of her hair up to her head. He grabbed his scepter like cock and rubbed it gently against her pussy lips. Stephanie shuddered.
I was paralyzed.
“You like that?” Byron asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Byron hesitated, guiding his cock up and down through Stephanie’s pussy lips, a little deeper each time. Stephanie clearly loving it.
“Please fuck me,” Stephanie whispered, turned the opposite way from me. “Please. I want it so badly. Byron… put it inside. Fuck me.”
“Is this what you want, baby?” Byron slipped his cock into Stephanie.
Her eyes closed tight, her back arched, she moaned loudly, “Yes, oh god, yes.” Byron’s dark hands closed around Stephanie’s slim waist just above her ass and he started to push into her, sliding in and out and grinding. Stephanie writhed and moaned. I had never seen her so animated before. She cooed and gasped. Byron put his hand into Stephanie’s hair tight and pulled her head back, her lily white neck pulled up.
“You gonna cum now, slut?”
Stephanie was making short, staccato moans now, her body was shaking almost uncontrollably and it certainly seemed like she was going to cum. Then she almost wailed; an orgasmic moan that I thought the neighbors would surely call the cops over for.
“That’s right, little slut,” Byron said. “It’s just started, bitch.” He didn’t let up.
She had two more orgasms. After the first Byron tossed a throw pillow from the couch down to her. She wrapped her arms around it, now on her knees and elbows, and shoved it into her mouth as she moaned and whimpered below Byron. At times it was like she was pulling away from him, but his vice-like hands kept her in place. She would hold the pillow tight and moan into it, body shuddering. Finally, Byron grabbed her hair and pulled her up as he stood up.
“You ready for my cum, bitch?”
Stephanie turned around instantly, “Yes.”
“Open that mouth, slut.”
Stephanie looked up, her mouth wide open, stroking Byron’s thigh, one hand still fingering herself.
The first shot went wide, splashing into her hair and leaving a trail that flowed over her forehead, drenched one half-lidded eye, and only marginally made it into her mouth. The second, third, fourth, fifth, and a few more found their mark: shooting into her mouth and splashing down her lip and chin.
As she swallowed I think she may have cum again and everything settled down. Byron stroked her hair, “That’s right, Stephanie. Clean it all up.” Stephanie was scooping Byron’s semen up from her chin into her mouth. The shot across her face was pushed across her glowing face and into her mouth. He took a drop from her breasts and she licked it from his finger.
“That’s good. Why don’t you go clean up?”
Stephanie hurried from the room, not looking at me.
Byron zipped and buckled his jeans back on.
“Good bet, buddy. I’m just gonna take off. Let you two work this out.”
Stephanie went right to bed after the shower. I drank a few more beers myself in the living room. Maybe, I thought, this would make Stephanie more animated in bed; more adventurous. So far it has seemed worse. She seems less interested in sex. She has been going out more. Wearing more sexy outfits. Wearing more makeup. She looks hot. Almost slutty in a way. She says she goes out with friends. She doesn’t come back until late, and once in the early morning. Always disheveled. Makeup smeared. It was a costly bet.