A Long Blac Night

Even though he knew she was married, he asked her straight out if she'd have sex with him. She answered that she'd have to have her husband's permission.  She didn't say, 'You cad, No way, or How dare you,' but she came to me and told me what he'd said and she'd said back.  I told her it was not my decision to make.  I asked if she wanted to, she said she might.  "Then you should," I said.  "It is up to you."

"But we are married," she said.   "I am a married lady," she said and grinned.

"But I don't own you.  Your body belongs to you.  Are you attracted to him?  Do you get wet for him?"

"Oh, yes," she said honestly.  "I guess I do."

"Then it is up to you," I said again.  "Go ahead."

"You wouldn't mind?" she asked.

"That's not important," I said.  "What's important is that you do what you decide to do, even sex.  If you can still love me and have sex with him, that is all I can ask.  Could you?" I asked.  "Could you still love me after having sex with him?"

"Yes," she said.

"If you went on a trip, should I not want you to have a good time?" I said.

"Of course not."

Would it be heartless of me to resent that you had fun doing something without me?" I asked.

"I guess," she said.

"Sex is a pleasure I cannot deny you of just because it isn't with me," I said.

So hearing that she went off with her friend and had sex, then she came back and excitedly told me all about it, every detail.  I loved the excitement in her voice. I was experiencing it with her.  I was glad she had enjoyed herself.  Amazingly, I enjoyed her experience of sex with her friend.  I loved seeing the look on her face, the excitement in her voice, and the joy in her eyes.

Then she came home one day with a friend she'd met at a meeting of parents at our son's school.  He was tall, with a voice heavy and deep and peppered with West Indian phrases and rhythm, and he was friendly and easy to like.  His name was Marcos and he shook my hand warmly and with impressive strength in his grip.

Somehow I knew the minute she introduced him that she would be having sex with him before we had breakfast the next morning.   It was in her eyes, her voice when she said his name, and the way she looked at him when he spoke.  I could almost smell the arousal in the room, the pheromones seeping from her pores, the wetness between her legs.   Her attraction to him was obvious, and her excitement was contagious.  I watched them as they talked about the project, and I understood the heat that was generating between them.

It was like watching two animals prepare to rut and mate, and I couldn't deny it, even if I wanted to, and I didn't.  It was the first time I had seen her fall in lust with another person.  He was so manly, so virile, so full of sexual potency.  By six o'clock I wanted it for her, by seven I saw it coming, by eight I watched it happening, even though they were at the table fully dressed, but the erotic sparks were flying between them.

I almost hoped he would undress her right there in the kitchen, take ahold of her, and slide himself into her right there on the dining room table.  It was the most sexually potent moment I had ever witnessed without there being penetration or panting, and I wanted to see it like a virtuoso performance conducted just for me to watch.

My heart beat fast as I watched them.  My arousal level matched what I knew must be theirs.  They were only talking, but in truth they were nearly making love at the table, aroused by the sexual intensity of the other person.  It was like delicious porn, and their arousal excited me.  Their desire heated my own passion, and I wanted to see the consummation of their coupling.  I wanted, for the first  time in my life, to see my wife get fucked by someone else.  I yearned to see him enter her, to fill her, and to drive an orgasm from her core like an explosion.

The dynamic sexual energy was so intense in the room it had me shaking with desire.  Not only did I feel the heat, I wanted to see my wife get the heat, and be thoroughly fucked and I wanted to watch the fire burn.  For the first time in my life someone else's passion was transferred to me, and I yearned to see these two people fornicate. I ached to watch them mate like animals in heat in a Disney film.

I could not explain it in ten thousand words, or understand it in a year of reflecting, and I didn't want the feeling to evaporate or diminish one degree.  I wanted to see it out, to see it happen, and to savor the delicious flavor of their sex.  For the first time I can remember, I understood the spirit of the cuckold.

The two individuals before me were so carnal their sexuality shook the room.  They were in full rut, like two elk in heat.  They were being intimate without touching.  His body seemed to need to be inside of her.  I could see that.  She seemed to want him to slide into her wetness.  It would have been a crime to keep this from happening.

I watched them kiss without touching.  I saw them nearly fuck without contact. I could no longer deny that I wanted it to occur and to be able to see it.   I longed to watch them.  I yearned to see his cock sliding into her pussy, pushing her labia apart, opening her up, filling her secret space.

She had obviously believed what I had told her about it being up to her, because at the table she was courting this guest in our house, seducing him, actually inviting him to ravish her, even as her husband sat across the table.  I had said it is her choice, and she was making  that choice right in front of me, with my permission and my wanting to watch it.  I had seen them toy with desire and was enchanted by the sight of it happening.  Finally, I could not wait any longer.

"Why don't the two of you go to the bedroom," I said.

Understanding, wanting it before she even knew it herself, aroused to the point of pre orgasmic bliss, she took his hand and led him up the stairs to our bed.   They undressed slowly, savoring the task, loving the moment, then they crawled in bed and he entered her without a moment's delay, as if it had been planned all evening, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to fuck the host's wife.  I stood in the doorway, as I had followed them up, and I watched what I had wanted to see more than anything all evening.  It surprised me that I wanted to see them fuck, but I truly did, more than I could believe.

She arched her body towards him, pulling him inside of her, pushing against his weight.  Unable to resist, I stood at the door and watched them fuck like newlyweds, bucking and fucking, sighing and groaning, kissing and caressing, panting and playing, and I loved it all.  I was simply mesmerized by what I was witnessing, thrilled at being able to watch them and liking it.  I was doing what I never expected I would.

My son was with his grandparents, so the weekend was free for her to make love to him uninterrupted, unrestrained, undenied.  I am not sure if the power of the experience was not intensified by the taboo of racial prohibition and the contrast of skin color, but I suppose it was.  The truth is I had never considered watching her  before, had never been attracted to interracial sex or thought about it one way or another, but the fact is it was intense and powerful and to rebuff it would have been a move I had no intention of making.

As they were upstairs in our bedroom, I went back downstairs and sat, imagining what was still going on in our bed, what sexual wonders were happening just a short distance from where I sat.  It was true I had told her she was free to have sex with anyone she chose, but this was different because it seemed predestined to happen, decided even before I saw them together.  It seemed to occur as they stood close to one another in the kitchen, as they spoke, even as they casually touched, innocently kindling the flames, drawing one another into a sexual undertaking they could not avoid, nor should they.

When they left the meeting at the school together it was already set in motion and probably couldn't have been stopped even by a possessive husband who was not interested in seeing it.  What I was realizing was that she was giving me something that I truly wanted, something that excited me beyond belief, something I could not deny.  When she went off the first time I was fine with it, but I didn't ache to see it, hunger to watch it happen, want to have him fuck her.   I had only allowed it the first time, but this time I prayed for it to take place, dreamed of seeing it, and was invigorated by the thought of her with him, of him in her, and of her gripping him with the muscles of her vagina.

Their mutual sexual energy nourished me, energized me, and made me shake with excitement.  The thought of a black cock pushing into my wife was overwhelming and exhilarating.  The idea of her white pussy swallowing his lengthy meat sent shivers through me and raised my excitement to a level I had never known before.

I relished being able to see his long black cock sliding between her lovely lips and hoping to see him come, filling her mouth with his semen, having her swallow every pearly drop of cum, letting it slid down her throat like cream.  I wanted to creep into our bedroom to watch her again as she took him deep and repeatedly, generating loads of foamy suds that gathered on their combined genitals, coating her thighs and matting her pubic hair, covering his cock.

The night makes me admit how very much I really like porn but rarely had acknowledged it.   The pictures in my head were pure porn: explicit, erotic, and prurient.   What I pictured my wife doing with her black friend was right out of an x-rated interracial porn film.  I had never seen or thought at all about back-on-white porn, but what I was envisioning at the moment was exactly that.  I was reveling in that very thing.  It had raised my temperature, sped up my heart, and made me hard.  I didn't feel guilty because I was happy my wife was being fucked by a black lover, I celebrated it.

I thought of pink lips encircling the black, bulbous tip of that monster cock and I smiled to myself.  "Fuck her good, brother," I thought.   I searched the web for black on white sex on my laptop and watched a large black man fill the pussy of a white housewife with a large salami and I nodded, "Yeah, like that," I said.

I had not thought of the sexual superiority of  black men before that night, but I had seen it happening right before my eyes.  That is when I decided, on the spot, to ask if I could watch.  I wanted to see the magic, the power and electricity of black-on-white sex, with my wife being the receptacle for that massive black snake.  I decided right then I wanted to see it, to experience it, to share in the moment of her marvelous sex with Marcos.

When they finally came down, walking together down the stairs, I stood and said I know they wanted to rest, but I said, "I really would love to watch you.  I saw something happen tonight at the table I am awed by, and I would really like to watch you fuck her," I said.  "I saw a little bit at first, when you first went in, but I would like to see you slid into her, to fuck her, to see her suck your cock.  I have never asked that before, but tonight I would be honored to be allowed to watch you screw my wife in my own bed, at my own house, and with her permission," I said as if in a speech to congress.

"Stay here the night, fuck her again, and let me watch this time.   Do you mind if I watch you have sex her?" I asked him.  He shook his head and smiled, as if it is the silliest of questions.  "Do you mind, sweetheart?" I asked Claire.  She shook her head.   Her smile told me she really didn't mind, that my being okay with it was enough to convince her to let me see him fuck her again.

She motioned me to follow and I trailed them back to the bedroom where they got back in bed, then began kissing, and going on as if I wasn't in the room.  I sat in our high backed chair by the window and got comfortable since I could be there all night.

She threw back the covers and mounted him, throwing one leg over his hips and settling down on his once again erect cock.  He is literally amazing, and I cross my legs to watch a sexual spectacle.  She began bouncing on his cock, forcing it far into her and repeatedly pushing his ebony dick in and out of her pink, wet, white pussy.

She put a hand on each of his hips to balance herself and continued jumping up and down on his black shaft.  He reached up and took ahold of one boob.   As if it were rehearsed, Claire pulled him out and moved up until her pussy was over his mouth. Marcos then lifted his chin until her entire vulva was between his lips.  She squealed as he inserted his tongue between her pussy lips and drove it deep in her canal.  As he ate her, she reached back and took hold of his still erect cock.  He ate her while she jacked him off behind her back.

As I sat watching my wife ride her new black friend and masturbate his erection, I thought about how I was joining the leagues of wife watchers, voyeurs who reveled at seeing their wives being fucked, sucked, and fondled.   Amazingly it was a group I was now happy to join.

He ate her until an orgasm burst from her like a geyser, exploding from her throat with a wild cry.  He put a hand on each of her thighs and drank the liquid that poured from her pussy like a man drinking water from a jug.  She came and after she had recovered so her pussy wasn't too sensitive to touch, he began slowly licking her pussy with long, steady laps of his tongue.  She cooed and moaned as he ate her, sliding her pussy back and forth over his mouth, smearing her juice across his lips.

Then, as if to show what she could do with a long, thick, hard, black cock, she moved around until it was at her chin, then she licked the tip before taking the giant knob in her mouth and sliding it all the way to the back of her throat.  She then bobbed her head up and down the shaft, each time going all the way down until her nose was touching his pubic hair.  With a look-at-me smile, she winked at me as she sucked his impressive, shiny with her saliva, thick, dark cock, keeping it at the back her throat like Linda Lovelace deep throating a happy camper.

I smiled back, hoping she knew how happy she was making me.  When he started to come, enormous amounts of semen spilled from him and she swallowed as it came.   He must have ejaculated a pint of semen and she happily drank every drop.

Letting me watch her with her black lover was the best gift a wife could give a happy cuckold hubby, and the night had been heavenly.  I had got to see him fuck her, watch him eat her pink, splayed pussy, and got to see her suck him until he came in her mouth, spilling some on her chin and cheeks.   She licked it off with a lusty tongue, and wiped the rest into her mouth with a finger.  Then she looked at me and smiled.

I had discovered I was a wife-watching cuckold who loved to watch a man fuck his wife, and I got the double pleasure of it being a black dude with a giant dick and a long tongue.   Recovering faster than a speeding bullet, he got behind her and put his massive dick at her backdoor, which I had never been in.  With a quick shove of his muscular hips he pushed into her rear, knocking her forward a few inches, her tits swaying under her as she rocked ahead.

In and out he went and he fucked her while she moaned her delight.  He must have pushed into her for thirty minutes before he deposited a load in her sweet ass while she knelt on the bed and grunted each time he plowed into her.

When it was morning, I had watched them fuck, suck, eat, lick, sleep, recover, and repeat the show, and I loved every second of it.  As we sat at the table, I thanked them for the wonderful sex demonstration.  "Anytime you want to see good fucking, just let me know," he said. She smiled and nodded.

"I will fuck this lady for your friends, or for just you, or for just me, but I love this pussy and I love your wife."

"She seems to love fucking you," I said.  "I have never seen her happier.  You certainly have a way with white lady parts.  This husband loves to watch good fucking, and my wife seems to love it too."  She simply nodded and smiled.  "What are you doing next weekend?" I asked.

"Fucking her, it sounds like," he said.  The next weekend went just as well.  He came to dinner and finished the evening eating my wife.  They let me watch them again and finished with a grand ass-fucking that I actually applauded.  I watched them take a shower and fuck under the stream of water and then again next to the tub with her standing, bent over, taking him from behind.

They fucked again the next morning in our kitchen, with her sitting on the counter nude, with him standing between her thighs, pushing rapidly into her as she braced herself on the counter with her arms behind her.  It was a housewife fucking the handy man if I ever saw it.

He came again the next weekend, and the next one, and the next one, and every one for a year.  My son was thrilled he got to be with friends or grandparents every weekend. Right now Claire and Marcos are in Jamaica, probably fucking on some beach.  I can't watch them, but she sends me letters with explicit details and even digital photos sent from her phone.  I received a photo of her in a Jamaican cab, fucking the cabbie while she jacks off Marcos on the seat next to her.

I have a wonderful HotWife who loves to fuck black, and-- except for me--just may never go back.