It's rare to find that "special guy". The one that you can completely be yourself with...the one that you can share all your deepest, darkest fantasies with....luckily for me, I married mine.
One night, we sat around playing cards for 'favors'....(I win a hand, he licks and bites my nipples...he wins a hand, and I rub his cock between my breasts, etc...), and Karl (my husband), chose a new one: "tell me one of your sex-stories...one you've never told me."
I was a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth, but we'd been drinking martinis most of the evening, so I was feeling a bit bolder than usual. So, I decided to let it all out. "I had a three-way with two black men," I found myself saying. I immediately blushed, clapped my hand over my mouth and laughed. I couldn't believe I told him that!
His eyebrows shot up. "Really??" he asked me. "Tell me more." He grinned like Cheshire cat and settled in for the story.
"Well," I said, "I was with this one guy, Tim, in college. He was African-American, and unbelievably hung. I thought the old 'rumor' about black men was just that, until I was with him."
"Tim? Who's Tim? Did I meet him?" He asked, because we'd met in college, and I'm sure he was trying to picture it in his head.
I smiled and sighed sweetly. "Mmmmm. Tim. He was a lovely man. About 6 foot tall, a musician….we played together. (I was a voice major during school). It was only a matter of time before I seduced him." I chuckled and winked at my husband seductively...reminding him just what a vixen I could be.
------------------------------------------------
"I went to visit Tim in his dorm room, which was just down the hall from me. We were working on a new vocal piece that he'd written. He mentioned that his friend James wanted to play his guitar with us on the new piece, and wondered if I would mind if James came by." At this point, I was creating the story as I went along, and my husband was completely enraptured – never imagining that his sweet, suzy-homemaker wife ever had such lascivious experiences.
"Tim and I had often flirted with each other, and I could tell that he was well-hung," I said.
"HOW did you know that?" Karl asked.
I blushed and told him that I'd seen Tim get a hard-on many times when we were together. We worked together closely, and I would purposely brush my breasts against him, or put my lips close to his ear as I looked over the music he'd written.
"He didn't just 'jump' you??" my husband asked, incredulously.
I laughed. "No, 'jumping' wasn't Tim's style. He preferred that a woman approach him first."
"So anyway," I continued "....he called James and a few minutes later, James was at the door with his guitar. James was pretty hot himself. Stocky, broad-shouldered, with lovely brown eyes and lips made for sucking on. I'd had several masturbation fantasies about James – never imagining that he'd go for a little white girl like me."
As the evening went on, we played music and had a few beers. James told me how pretty and talented I was, and I ate it up. Finally, we were all sitting in a circle on Tim's bed, and chatting away. Tim glanced at James and suddenly spilled his drink on my blouse. I jumped and laughed, since it was so cold.
"Oh man, I'm sooo sorry," Tim said. "Can I get you a towel?" He was grinning as he said this, and I decided to go for it.
"No, that's ok. I'll just take it off and let it dry," I told him. I unbuttoned my blouse slowly, letting him see my D-cup breasts in their tight, lacy bra. I let the blouse drop from my shoulders and asked Tim if he'd hang it up. "Sure, no problem," he said, and went to the bathroom to drape it over the shower bar.
I looked over and saw James staring unabashedly at my breasts. I laughed. "See something you like, James?" I asked. "How could I not?" he replied. "You're sexy." I smiled and blushed.
