If you're offended by race play, don't read this story.
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Clay's words:
Without realizing it, I think our current situation in marriage actually started back in my friend Gary's trailer many years ago where me and some friends would hang out. The five or six of us sat around and watched porn one day. We were all about 18-20 years old. Gary had a live-in girlfriend that was a small town seven at best but she loved to have sex and we were all envious of him. She was the first woman I had met that openly loved porn. I watched the videos with fascination. I had only seen pictures in magazines to that point.
I remember looking over at my friend's girlfriend to see how she reacted to the videos. She watched cooly with a half smile and bounced her leg while sitting on Gary's lap. I had never been so horny before. I tried to hide my erection, as I assume we all did. I remember my precum seeping through my shorts and making a visible wet spot.
That was quite a while ago and yet I still think about her (whose name I can't remember) often, at least once a month. Sometimes when I would get frustrated with my wife Nan's prudish behavior I would think about that girl. But I didn't think too much about it at the time, because it wasn't until recently that I found out there were women like her in real life. I had only heard about them and dreamt about them. Full disclosure... I used to fantasize and jack off thinking that my wife's goody good friends and fellow wives were secret, ravenous sluts. But that's for another time.
Before long Gary popped in a new tape (VHS for you young ones), and soon we were all abruptly shocked with a scene of a black guy banging a dolled-up white woman in doggy style. I couldn't see her face or his since the scene was filmed from behind at first. I had never seen a naked black man before. His ass was full and I remember his back was skinny with muscle definition and his skin was shiny with sweat. I have always been undefined in physique even when I was thin and active in sports.
Anyway, this scene was different for another reason. In the other scenes women usually make the exaggerated, fake moaning and cheesy comments like, "Oooh, yeah. Oh, yeah. You fuck my pussy so good!" In this one, though, the woman just groaned and you could see she was in a great deal of pain. This excited me so much and I didn't know why at the time.
Then, the camera angle shifted to the front and you could see her grimacing and yet her face was alive with wanton pleasure. If I could have pulled out my penis, I would have busted in about 20 seconds. I hated it and I loved it!
Tbh, I've been dealing with addiction to that facial expression ever since. I've tried all sorts of maneuvers on women, and then for the last 20 years my wife, all to no avail. I've gotten some moans, and whiniing out of their own horniness, and the occasional dirty talk, which seemed forced, but for the most part I've been chasing the high of that woman's face ever since that day. I've seen it in amateur interracial porn hundreds of times but never in person until about a year ago.
After a good 10 minutes of banging the dollish slut in and out in hypnotizing undulation - she with white knuckle clinching like she was delivering a baby - the camera angle shifted to the side. This aggressive man pulled out his cock and I could finally see it. His giant cock just kept coming out of her, inch after inch of dark, glistening, cream-covered cock slowly relieving the swollen, and likely sore, pussy. I was in awe. I was hooked like I had just been injected with heroine. I had never seen anything like it. It fell down immediately under its own weight and then I really got an idea of just how big it was compared to his body size. I was flushed with a deluge of thoughts about my size. When I jacked off in the mirror in the bathroom, my penis protruded; his hung.
Shortly after that, Gary and his carnivorous, wonderful slut went in the bedroom without a word and the rest of us were quiet. We heard them fucking and her screams and it got awkward. Did she really sit during the parts with white couples, but head to the bedroom after seeing that black man? Eventually we left and still haven't talked about it.
Over the coming years since I thought about that man's cock and always felt inadequate. Without realizing that's why, I found myself pursing petite women - and ones that were innocent and had little experience. I think subconsciously I didn't want my women to be comparing me to other men. In fact, all but two of the girls I have had sex with were virgins. That was easy back then; those kind would be harder to find now.
But I pushed the thoughts out of the forefront of my mind for years. Looking back I can see how it affected me. I think I became a little racist for a while out of bitterness and maybe some jealousy. I despised the aggressiveness of black men and I also hated the white women that would reward them for it. But, black men had bigger dicks and I knew it, and there was something about them that women liked. I'm not tempted by those thoughts anymore. I'm a big believe that God has his reasons for everything, and he probably gave black men bigger dicks to compensate them for all the shit they would have to deal with.
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Nan's words:
My husband Clay is a good man. He loves our kids, he goes out of his way to help people, especially when they need someone to listen or give advice. Everybody seems to love Clay. Even though he's not great looking, women have always been drawn, platonically I think, to his funny and caring demeanor. Occasionally I would detect some younger girls casually flirting with him, to which he was oblivious, as only kind-hearted men can be. He wasn't attractive per se, but he showers me with compliments. I've never felt unattractive since I met Clay.
Clay and I have always struggled in the sex department. He has a high libido but he's not really assertive. He will hint that he wants sex, he harasses me in fun and gentle ways, but he never comes right out and asks for it very often. While I appreciate the gentlemen-like way he treats me like a princess, I don't like the pressure to initiate.
I had never had an active libido. I never knew why until recently. It took some momentum and mental gymnastics to get ready for sex at all, and only in special situations like vacations, or when I'd been drinking too much, did I "need" sex. Even then I hesitated. It always seemed so wrong to allow myself to lust or be sexual. My body was the temple of God not to be defiled.
I felt like Clay was always wanting more from me than I could give. He wanted me to have an orgasm every time we had sex, but I didn't feel like it most of the time. Between his overweight body, his passive nature, his self-deprecating statements, and his whatever else, the amount of performance I had to do was exhausting. He wanted me to moan and tell him I loved what he was doing, and have a full-body, convulsing orgasm without using the vibrator, and then smile and cuddle and make him think that was just what I needed. In reality, I needed to do the laundry and I liked to read before bed.
