This story contains interracial sex, a cheating wife, and infidelity. If any of these bother you, please do not read further. If you wish to post a critique on style, or prose, great, I'd love to hear it. If you want to whine and blather about what should happen to the characters? Get a grip, and go somewhere else. Especially if you like to post as a spineless Anonymous wimp. This is a fictional story THAT NEVER REALLY HAPPENED.
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I awoke the next morning, and rubbed my face. My husband lay sleeping next to me, the day gloomy and stormy. The storm that created the situation I had with Tony's boss was in full bloom, with periods of heavy, pelting rain, and periods of strong, gusting winds. The large droplets splattered against the sliding glass door, a patter that most would find relaxing.
Me? I was anxious. The night before, Ron, Tony's boss, had me on his bed, and plundered my body, as I willingly surrendered myself to him. It was a capitulation of the senses, and surprisingly easy. Between the delicious feel of Ron's bed, the silky slipperiness of my own dress, and the erotic taboo of not only betraying my marital vows, but doing it with the aid of a black man, I had no will to resist it. Or him.
Tony had returned about fifteen minutes after Ron had finished filling my body with his semen, his lovemaking potent, and bareback. I had a strong, memorable climax, and it left me sated. So much so I had to deny Tony his marital prize, because I was a tad sore, as well as still leaking some of Ron from my core. On top of that, I was just not interested. To please him, I gave him a long, slow, savory tongue-lashing of his penis, suckling him until he exploded in my mouth. I teased him more by holding his ejaculate in my mouth, and then displaying it before I swallowed, then made a lewd display of my tongue, to show he was down my gullet. I had never done that before, but Tony commented on my being a lewd woman. He loved it!
So now it was the morning after. Physically, I felt better. But emotionally, I was a wreck. Ron held a large share of my thoughts. Bad, naughty thoughts. Being with him, being his conquest, being his victim. The images of his charcoal black cock penetrating my pink, pale body was still just hot. The risk of bareback sex was even hotter. My fingers slithered lower, and for a moment, I contemplated touching myself, only to stop when Tony stirred. He'd be awake, soon, and to find me in such a state would turn him on instantly, and I just wanted Ron more.
I knew I wanted to be with Ron again. Now. The problem was how? What excuse could I use to get separated from Tony to have a rendezvous? How long could I manage it? Would Ron want me again? Would I be intruding on another woman with him? I had to get out of bed and get my day started, or Tony would suspect something was distracting me. Something I would have a hard time explaining.
I did my Saturday normal routine. Cooked us breakfast, smiled and snuggled with Tony as we watched some TV, and then cleaned the house. Normal stuff, vacuuming, dusting, and so on, but it was interesting how things all had erotic connotations. Pushing and pulling the vacuum cleaner across the carpet was like Ron's black cock gliding in and out of me. Dusting the furniture was like my small hand daintily sliding along his thick, smooth, veiny shaft, stroking it sexily. Hell, even watering the plants was his semen spilling into my vagina. All day long I was wet and wanting. And I was confused.
I love Tony. With all my heart. He's my husband. So what's wrong with me? What is it that makes me want to have made, passionate, fully-reproductive sex with another man? A black man? Was it me? Was it Tony? Was it Ron? Was it Ron's bedroom? What about the kinkiness of fulfilling my satin fetish? What about the supposed stigma of interracial sex? Why was I having these urges? What was wrong with me???
The day lingered, and we got cleaned up ourselves. We showered together, which was steamy and hot, ending with me kneeling in the shower and suckling his cock until he couldn't stand it any longer. I lewdly licked the tip of his cock as he came, and let his semen twirl around my tongue, as I looked up at him mischievously under my eyebrows. Swallowing him after the wanton display made me feel better. It reassured me that my husband still mattered to me, and that I still mattered to him. I didn't have my own release, however. I got Tony off, well and good, and my own would have to wait. I figured I might indulge in a little fantasy 'me' time while Tony napped.
After the shower, we snuggled in bed, and napped. My husband slept naked in bed, as usual, while I wore my white satin nightie. Tony needed to nap from his release, me from just wanting my time, but I couldn't do it, not without waking my husband. I drifted off to sleep. He woke first, and jostling me as he darted out of bed. At first I didn't know why, and then I heard his cell phone ringing. I glanced outside as the daylight faded, and was wondering how I was going to survive this night without Ron's cock in me. The solution soon became obvious.
Tony came back in, smiling, and asked if I minded if he went to go play cards with a couple of our neighbors. Seems the guys had gotten their wives to let them have a boy's poker night, and was it ok if I let him go, too? It took me less than a second to do the math. No Tony+ Alone time= Orgasm! I smiled and nodded, saying I wanted him to have fun, while in the back of my head, I knew I was going to. He dressed in jeans and a favorite t-shirt, closing the door behind him in less than five minutes. I rolled over onto my bedside, and opened my nightstand, pulling out BOB... my Battery Operated Boyfriend.
Pulling down the covers, I slid to the center of the bed, my body sliding easily on our own silver satin sheets, the material a visual liquid to slip along. Then I pulled up just the top sheet, and encased myself in the cool, soothing, slippery material. I closed my eyes and twisted the end, and let BOB get to work.
I started with my legs closed, and my hand wandering my breasts, my nipples already hard from just the satin. I had a satin fetish and I had it bad. Maybe 90% of my wardrobe was satin. My blouses, skirts, dresses, even pants and jeans all were of the same silky dream material, and several were the same style, just in different colors. Then we had satin costumes for Halloween, or a couple of times when Tony and I would do some in-home role-play fun. The costume play could be a lot of fun, and Tony was pretty good at playing the villain, even being able to defile Batgirl, when I wore that costume one Halloween.
BOB invaded my thoughts, as he circled my vulva, and my lips parted to start taking deeper breaths. Ron now entered my mind. Tall, dark, mysterious, and handsome. He was naked, save for that same red satin men's robe he wore. He approached me as my legs parted, and BOB began to caress my folds, as Ron took hold of my ankles and separated them, my voice moaning in a feline purr. The silky feel of satin sheets on my thighs giving me the same shivers as Ron's fingertips caressing my inner-thighs. I wasn't giving myself to Ron, Ron was taking me. BOB parted my petals, and Ron's hot, black, throbbing cock was leaking pre-cum at my gate, and beginning to push inside me. Full, firm, and undeniable, he entered me, reaching farther than Tony ever would be able to. My hips undulated, and my toes curled as BOB rocked my body, Ron's presence rocking my mind, until Ron and I came together, and I cried out in a climactic orgasm. I bore down so hard BOB slipped from my fingertips, and shot down between my legs, while my vagina spilled some of my own juices. I knew I'd have to change the sheets, but in that moment, I didn't care. Ron had sated me. For the time being.
