An Amateur in Bruges

[All characters are over 18 years of age.]

After warm good-byes with Katia and Sven, and promises to keep in touch, Heather and I were on the train to Bruges, Belgium

We found a room in a centuries-old inn that was walking distance from the town's main square with its tall bell tower and all sorts of shops, restaurants, and pubs on all four sides. We did the typical tourist things, exploring all the little side streets, and even took a boat ride on the canal that cut through the quaint city.

We had lunch on the plaza, enjoyed some decadent desserts, and scoped out a pub that looked like it would be fun later in the evening. We then went back to our room, and made tender, relaxed love before drifting off to sleep in each other's arms. God, how I love that woman! A day ago she had been a wanton slut sucking cock and getting fucked in front of a room full of horny men and women, and today she was making love to me and cuddling like a shy and demure housewife.

When we made it back to the pub to have dinner it was more crowded than we expected and we were lucky to find two seats at the bar. We each ordered food and a drink, and then looked around the room at the clientele. Some people were quite obviously tourists based on how they were dressed and the backpacks they carried with them. But it looked like the locals liked this place, too.

Eager to continue our

sexpedition

adventure in Bruges, we hoped that the pub would be a good place to meet a local couple that we could hook up with. To that end, Heather had dressed to impress in a one-piece dress with spaghetti straps, a plunging neckline, and no bra. She also wore tan-colored stockings held up by a black garter belt, and no panties.

The dress had a narrow belt around the middle, and Heather could hike the dress' hem to any height she wanted, and then let the fabric of the top of the dress fold casually over the belt. The height she chose just barely covered the tops of the stockings while she walked. When she slid up onto the stool at the bar, the hem rode up a little farther, and she made no attempt to pull it down.

Sideways to the bar and facing each other, she had one of her sexy, stocking-clad legs between my legs and was rubbing the inside of my thigh with her knee. After we ordered, she swiveled her stool so she was facing the rest of the room, and looked around as if she was searching for someone she knew.

In the mirror, I watched some of the patrons who had obviously taken notice of Heather when we walked in, now take much more notice. With the barstools being a bit higher than the chairs at the tables or the benches at the booths, I was quite sure that many of the folks sitting there had a clear enough view up Heather's skirt to see that she wasn't wearing panties. I hoped that would pique some interest in one or two adventurous, open-minded couples.

When our drinks arrived she swiveled back toward the bar, but I continued watching in the mirror. I saw one woman lean over and say something to her male companion. She was staring directly at Heather's ass as she spoke, but her expression made it seem like her comments were derogatory--probably calling Heather a cheap slut--and they soon got up and left. The guy took a couple of glances back as they left, probably not having the same desire to leave as his partner.

Another couple in a booth were also staring at Heather and talking. There was a lot more smiling going on in the conversation than with the other couple, and it even appeared that the woman was nudging the man to get up and come over to us. They were an attractive couple, probably forty-ish, like Heather and me, but they were obviously tourists, also like Heather and me. I had really hoped that we could hook up with a local couple, like Katia and Sven.

Just as the guy was beginning to slide out of the booth, a deep voice on the other side of Heather said, "Hello. It's a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon. Heather, isn't it?"

We both turned and looked up at a handsome black man about six-two, and like Jimmy Dean's "Big John" he was

broad at the shoulders and narrow at the hips

. We both had to fight back a laugh at the French-accented English coming out of this guy who looked like he belonged on an American football team.

"Um, hi," Heather said to him. "Do we know each other?"

"I doubt that you noticed me with all that you had going on," he answered, "but I was in Amsterdam last night and caught your act at the amateur club. I've known Katia and Sven for years."

"Oh, I, um ..." Heather stammered, not expecting to ever meet up with anyone who had watched her eat cunt, suck cock, and get fucked on stage. Quickly recovering, however, she said with a wide smile, "Well, I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we enjoyed putting it on."

"Oh, I did!" he said. "I couldn't wait to get back to my room and jerk off watching the video I took of Sven fucking your cunt while your partner here ate you out." He extended his hand and added, "I'm Mark, by the way; pleased to meet you."

"Luca," I replied as I shook his massive hand. "This is my girlfriend, Heather."

He smiled at Heather, and said, "And I certainly enjoyed the little show you just put on here. I was sitting over there and had a great view of your naked pussy. Now, I'm wondering if the two of you would be interested in putting on a more private show." He certainly cut right to the chase!

"How private?" I asked.

"Just me," he replied. "At my apartment."

"What kind of show are we talking about?" Heather asked, obviously intrigued.

"Participatory," he answered with a wide, bright smile. "I would really like to fuck you, Heather. After watching you flash your pussy to a room full of strangers, I thought maybe that's why you'd come here."

"And you'd be right," she said. She turned to me, and asked, "What do you think?"

What I thought was

Hell yes!

It has been a fantasy of mine to see Heather take on a BBC for a long time, and if Mark's dick was in relative proportion to his body it would fill that bill--and Heather's pussy--beautifully!

I had just begun to answer when Mark interrupted, asking Heather, "Is he your cuckold?"

"

What?

" she said, spinning around to face him. "No! Luca is not a

cuckold

!" she snapped. "He is the most loving, caring man I've ever known! I would never do

anything

behind his back or that he was not totally on board with!"

"I'm actually very happy to hear that," he said with a grin. He took his wallet out of his pocket, and as he slid five hundred Euro notes out of it, he looked at me and said, "But as a professional actor, perhaps you could

play

the part? Taking the wife of a cuckold husband is a very arousing fantasy for me."

"Really?" I said having never even considered that as a fantasy. But then when I thought about

my

fantasy of watching him shove his big black cock up my beautiful girlfriend's tight white pussy, I had to admit that arousal is in the eye--and the mind--of the beholder. Who am I to judge?

Picturing myself sitting in his apartment jerking off while he fucked my sexy wife, I wasn't sure what the difference would be between being a horny, perverted boyfriend and a cuckold husband except for the name ... and five hundred Euros.

"Sure," I finally answered. "I think I can play that part." To Heather, I said, "Are you okay with it? You think you can play a convincing cheating wife to my wimpy husband?"

"Oh, yes!" she said. "When do we start?"

"Right now," Mark said as he pushed the bills across the bar to me. He then leaned down and whispered something into Heather's ear.

She smiled, swiveled her stool toward me, and as I put the bills in my pocket, she picked up my drink, handed it to me, and said, "Go find another place to sit,

hubby

. My new friend wants to sit there next to me." She then added a wink, and silently mouthed,

I love you!

Her command and the demeaning tone she used when she called me "hubby" took me aback for a moment, but then I realized that Mark must have told her to say that. He apparently wanted to see her dominate me as part of his fantasy. Again, not something I had ever fantasized about myself, but I was willing to try anything with my sexy, gorgeous girlfriend.

"Okay," I said meekly. "Is it ... is it okay if I watch you?"

"You'd

better

watch!" she replied quickly immersing herself in her role. "Maybe you'll learn something!"

I found a seat on a bench that ran along the far wall. There were little cocktail tables spaced out along the bench, but none where I found my seat, so I sat with my drink in my hand watching Mark and Heather as "instructed."

As they chatted he placed his big hand on her back, and gradually lowered it until he was cupping her rounded ass as it perched on the barstool. She had her hand on his leg, gently sliding it back and forth.

They ordered another drink, and then he moved his hand to her leg, with his fingers draped over and caressing her inner thigh. He was moving it back and forth from her knee to where it was pushing up her dress, and I'd have bet money that he was tickling her pussy lips with his little finger.

The movements of her hand suggested that she was tracing her fingers up and down a bulge in his pants. I had a bulge in mine, as well, but apparently, not like his.

At one point I watched Mark reach over with his free hand and flick one of Heather's protruding nipples with his finger. She pushed her chest forward, encouraging him, and he took the fat nub between his finger and thumb and pulled on it.

Heather closed her eyes and sucked in a long breath as she dug her fingers into his bulge.

This attention from a big, handsome, black stranger would have been plenty to get my wife's pussy humming, but I'm sure that the fact that he was doing it in public made it all the more erotic for her. It sure as hell did for me, and my boner generated a big wet spot in my pant leg to prove it.

She then opened her eyes, said something to him, and then they both threw back what was left of their drinks. She turned to me, spreading her legs so that I--and anyone else in line--could see the wetness of her naked pussy. She then crooked her finger telling me to

come here

.

I walked over and Mark turned on his stool so he was sideways to me, but Heather remained facing the room, with her legs provocatively spread.

She took my hand and placed it on the bulge in Mark's pants, closing my fingers over it. She then slid my hand up and down its length. "That's what a real cock feels like, hubby," she said to me. "We're going to leave now so that I can see what a real cock feels like up my cunt. You pay for our drinks and then you can follow us. If you don't get lost I'll let you watch him fuck me while you play with yourself."

If I had been a real cuckold, I would have been humiliated to have my wife force me to feel her lover's stiff dick in public and then have her talk to me like that where the other customers could hear. (I know they did because a couple of them turned to look at me.) Knowing it was all an act--and having gotten over my stage-fright by giving Sven a blowjob on stage--it was hot as hell to me, and my entrapped dick pulsed and enlarged my wet spot with another surge of pre-cum.

I paid as quickly as I could and hurried outside to see them standing a little ways away in a tight embrace, kissing passionately. As they kissed, Mark cupped Heather's amazing, round ass in his big hands and pulled her tightly against him, no doubt grinding her pussy-mound against his big black boner.

I followed them at a distance in keeping with my role as cuckold. We walked in the opposite direction of our room, and then up to a second-floor walk-up apartment (what in America we call the third floor). It had a small balcony that looked out over the square. Mark must have been a fairly wealthy guy; this location had to be expensive!

The building was probably several hundred years old, but inside it was posh and modern. When we got inside, they went out onto the balcony and continued their public groping and making out where anyone below who happened to look up could see Heather's dress hiked up around her waist and the white globes of her ass being squeezed by massive, strong, black hands. I stood in the middle of the living room and watched from the other side.

After a good deal of kissing and tongue sucking Heather turned to me, and said, "Take off your clothes, hubby. I want to see how hard your little pecker gets while you watch me getting fucked by Mr. Mark's big black cock."

To a real cuckold this would have been a demeaning command, but Heather knew about my BBC fantasy, and I know she wanted me to be able to enjoy it by having the freedom to jerk off as she took Mark's fat cock up her cunt. Did I mention how much I love that woman?

As I quickly began to peel my clothes off I asked her, "Will it be okay if I ... you know, ejaculate?"

"You mean jerk off while you watch a big black dude fuck your wife?" she replied in a near snarl. "Do you think that will make your little pecker want to squirt its cum?"

"I, um ... yes, I think it probably will," I answered in humble cuckold-ese. Then I added, "Please?"

"Frankly, hubby, I don't give a damn what you do with your little pecker as long as you don't bother us," she replied in well-acted bitch. Then something caught her eye, and she walked to a side table where she picked up a martini glass. She held it out to me, and said, "Jerk off in here; I'll want to see you drink your cum when Mr. Mark and I are all done."

Standing there naked with a raging, drooling hard-on Heather then told me, "Take

my

clothes off, now, hubby. Show Mr. Mark what he has to look forward to ... and what you've been trying--unsuccessfully--to satisfy all these years." She really did have the bitch part down pretty well. I hoped that "Mr. Mark" was appreciating it.

Undressing her didn't take very long. I unfastened Heather's belt, and then lifted the hem of her dress up over her body. She now stood there in front of her soon-to-be lover naked except for her garter-belt and stockings.

"Should I take those off, too?" I asked meekly.

"Ask Mr. Mark what he'd prefer," she told me.

"Mr. Mark, would you like me to take my wife's garter belt and stockings off?" I asked him

"Hell no!" he said.

Heather smiled, and told me, "Now, take Mr. Mark's clothes off."

I unbuttoned his shirt, pulled its tails up out of his pants, and from behind I spread it off of his wide shoulders and slid it down his arms. As I folded it neatly I looked at his broad, muscular back while Heather traced her fingers over his pecs.

Heather backed away, and I then moved around in front of him and got a view of his big hairless chest and his six-pack abs. Jesus! This guy was built!

As he and Heather watched, I unfastened his belt, then his button, then I pulled down his fly. I had to pull the waist of his pants open and push them backward to get them to go down over his hard, round ass.

As I maneuvered his pants over his ass his pubic hair and the root of his cock came into view in the V of his open fly. His patch of hair was short, tight, and curly. The root of his cock was massive!

I kept sliding the pants down watching as more and more of his cock came into view. When it was finally free of his pants I was in a squatting position in front of him with his dick only inches from my face.

He stepped out of the pants and as I folded them I looked at his now-naked body. He was like a Greek statue that had been chiseled out of some dark, exotic stone instead of marble. I say that he was black only to denote that he was of African descent, but in reality, his skin was a smooth, deep shade of brown ... except for his cock, which was, in fact, nearly jet black. And unlike

my

boner, which stood straight out in anticipation of one of my most horny fantasies coming true, his hung down in front of him.

Even in its semi-flaccid state it had to be ten inches long, and was already fatter than my cock was in its fully-inflated state. I noticed, too, that like Sven, he was uncut, and a little tube of wrinkled black skin was hiding his cock-head.

I'm sure that Heather noticed me staring at Mark's cock, and having recently broken through the bi barrier, she had to know how curious I was about it.

"Get on your knees, hubby," she commanded me. "Get Mr. Mark's big black cock hard for me." As she spoke, she grabbed a pillow off the sofa and tossed it at Mark's feet. She's always looking out for me!

On my knees, I reached out and wrapped both of my hands around the big hanging dick and began slowly sliding its sheath of black skin up and back. In his cock's non-erect state, the skin moved freely, and I lifted his dick up so I could see its hidden cock-head when I stretched the skin back.

As I pushed back, I watched the wrinkle of extra skin at the tip stretch taut and slowly reveal his shiny knob. Fascinated, I kept pushing until the ring of now-tight skin slid past the ridge of his cock-head.

I don't know what Heather thought, but I was surprised when Mark's dick-head came into full view six inches in front of my face.

The first surprise was that although the rest of his big cock was as black as night, the head was as white as mine was. Next was that his cock-head was so small. Which is not to say that it was actually

small

, just that it seemed out of proportion to the rest of his massive member ... and to my imagination.

I had envisioned a big purple plum with a huge ridge on the end of such a big dick. Mark's was more of a bullet-nose tip. It blended back into the rest of his cock making it look like a sleek, fat missile. The lip behind his dick-head was so small that when I pulled his foreskin back that far, it filled the groove and made the whole thing look even more streamlined.

Even his pee-hole was a surprise. I had imagined a fire-hose opening I was going to be able to wiggle the tip of my tongue into, and instead, it was a closed little slit.

Still, it fascinated me, and a second before I was going to do it on my own, Heather told me, "Use your mouth, hubby! Suck on Mr. Mark's big black cock while you stroke it! I want that monster to be hard, fat, and wet when he shoves it up my cunt!"

Playing my cuckold part, I looked up at her with sorrowful eyes, then opened my mouth and leaned forward. I started by lapping all over his cock-head which was more firm than Sven's had been. It was also completely wet with his pre-cum which had apparently been drooling out while his foreskin still enclosed the little knob. I sucked on it and closed my lips over the wrinkle of skin that gathered behind his ridge. At the same time, I began stroking the rest of his cock with both my hands.

As I sucked, lapped, and stroked, his already impressive dick grew in length so that I could no longer slide his loose skin back and forth, and in fact, it pulled the last wrinkles back away from his knob's lip so that I could now trace my tongue around the groove. I swear that the thing grew two inches in length as I worked on it!

When I pushed forward to get as much of it into my mouth as I could, I found my jaw hurting before his bullet-nose cock-head poked me in the throat.

I have to say that I'm glad my bisexual curiosities were first explored with Sven's more normal-sized cock. If Mark's BBC had been my first experience, having my jaws spread to the point of discomfort and having so little for my tongue to play with might have disappointed me to where I wouldn't have tried it again. As it was, I now had an

I'll try anything once

attitude.

I backed off a bit and went to work with my lips and tongue on his cock-head as I slid my hands lightly up and down the dry skin of his dick.