CHAPTER 1
It all started so innocently. And yet here I was, in a hotel room, a white English woman about to have my first sexual experience with a black man, while my husband was in the bar downstairs.
I work in local government. Once or twice a year we go on courses, sometimes a single day, sometimes a few days in a hotel. My husband always "Enjoy the orgy," when I am going away, but we both know that it is nothing of the sort. We have been married for a dozen years and do not want children, so there is no inconvenience.
On this occasion it was the roll out of a new computer system and a three-day course. We were put in groups and introduced ourselves. One of them was a black man named Joseph. Now black people are not unusual in local government in the UK, so I would not mention it, but for what happened. We said who we were and where we came from, but instead of saying Birmingham, Leicester, Manchester etc., he said a place we had never heard of. He was a bit put out, and explained that it was the capital city of his country. He was a civil servant there, and had been seconded to the UK for three years to learn about our practice (good and bad) and take home lessons.
Anyway, he was a nice man, and contributed very well to discussions. He was very polite in a slightly old-fashioned way, which was endearing. After dinner, some folks were going out on the town, and others were going to do some serious drinking. However, I drink very little, and Joseph said that he did not, so we sat in the lounge with soft drinks. He showed me a picture of his wife Rebecca and their children and talked about his country which I found interesting. I asked how often he went home, and he said his country was poor so he could only go home once in the three years, which he had recently done, and had nearly two years to go. I was sorry for him and his wife.
We seemed to agree in the discussions in the course, and chatted together pleasantly, but that was it. I never thought about being attracted and did not expect to see him ever again.
Back home, I was telling my husband about the course and he was pretending to listen. When I told him some of the things Joseph had told me, he suddenly sat up. "So you had a romance with a black man!" he said. I knew he was joking, and said "Yes, of course!" and we both laughed.
That night we had some particularly vigorous love-making and again in the morning. "Twice in one night!" I said. "I should go on a computer course more often." He looked as if he was going to say something, but did not.
He made some remarks occasionally, and I eventually asked in bed "What is it about me and a black man? Does it get you going?"
"Er, yes," he said, and explained that it was a common fantasy for white husbands. Eventually he got me to pretend that I had. I wasn't very good at it, but I would try and describe how I had been attracted and of course the amazing sex. I had to use words like 'cock' and 'cunt' and 'fuck' which was not my habit, but appeared to be necessary and I got used to it. I found this a bit off-putting but it certainly increased the frequency of our lovemaking. Thinking about it so much I realised that Joseph was actually quite a good looking man, and I did like him as a person.
Well, wouldn't you know? The wonderful new computer system caused all sorts of problems, and had to be substantially reworked, so we got called back to a two-day course. My husband was a little embarrassing in talking about my opportunity, but I sort of went along with the joke, though I did say as I was leaving "Understand, only joking".
I did not pay as much attention to the course as I should have, but I actually started to think about Joseph as a possible sexual partner, and felt somewhat guilty at the thoughts which came to me.
That evening, it was Joseph and me in the lounge again. He said that he had emailed his wife, Rebecca, and told her about the course and me. She had replied that I would make a good "away wife". He had replied that it was not possible, but it would be good to find someone like me. I was a bit shocked, and showed it. He insisted that he would never come between a man and his wife, but the away wife was a feature of his culture, and he was telling me because I had shown an interest in his country. His wife would be pleased if he found a woman for safe sex, as many men go with prostitutes and come home with diseases. As I had told him about my husband and our happy marriage, he would not even think of it, but he was finding the time away from his wife a bit of a strain. I thanked him for his consideration, and agreed that nothing like that would ever happen, but hoped he would find someone.
However, that night in the hotel I found myself masturbating furiously like a teenager with a crush.
When I told my husband what Joseph had said, I thought he was going to explode, but he was not angry. It was three times that night, but I refused to pretend that I had actually gone with Joseph. "That's it," I said. "You can do your fantasies yourself." That might have been a mistake.
My husband started telling the story in bed and I found myself (somewhat guiltily) aroused. Even more, I sometimes thought about Joseph during the day. This was not love, just the lust for the new.
After some weeks, my husband actually said it. "You know, I wouldn't actually mind if you went with Joseph..."
"No, you'd like it," I said angrily.
"Actually, yes," he replied, and although I was angry with both of us, I thought I would too.
It was a few more days before we took the next step. I had Joseph's email from the course documents and my husband asked him if we could possibly meet for dinner at the hotel where the course had been held. We would pay for travel and a room for the night, as we make enough money. It was all agreed that there was no expectation or obligation.
It was a strange dinner. Joseph appeared in cheap but immaculate clothes. Things were a bit strained at the start but it became clear that the two men liked each other and agreed on a number of points about the world. Finally my husband raised the topic of the away wife, and said that he would give permission for occasional safe sex. Joseph was emphatic that he would always use a condom, as AIDs was a big problem in Africa. He said that he had not been with a prostitute but if he could occasionally get relief with me, then that would remove the need, and please his wife.
I still hesitated, but between knowing how much it would please my husband and my own rising lust, I agreed. Both men looked pleased, my husband possibly the most.
He leaned forward and said quietly "Is it true what they say about you fellows?"
"Ah," said Joseph. "I know what you mean. It is a myth. The average penis of the black man is the same as the white man." It didn't bother me, but my husband looked a little disappointed.
"OK," he said. "You two go off separately and go to Joseph's room. I will stay in the bar till midnight, then go to our room."
So Joseph went off, and after fifteen minutes I went and knocked on the door. He opened it, wearing pyjamas, which I had not expected, and invited me in.
He asked me if I wanted to shower. I said no, but realised my knickers were wet, so went to the toilet to dry myself and put on a spare pair from my handbag. (A bit silly for what was to happen next, but I think women will understand.) God, I was wet!
Joseph again reassured me that I did not have to do anything, but I plucked up courage and started undressing. As I did so he told me that I was a similar size to his wife, and how much he would appreciate holding me.