This is a true story by a drop-dead gorgeous mid-thirties housewife (so I've been told) who has been proudly black owned for the past three years. Many of the details may not be as graphic as you would like, but I am putting this together from three years of memories.
I got up the next day, did some minor house cleaning, went shopping, and planned on visiting some inter-racial chat sites when I got home. I first opened my mailbox. I usually delete everything, as its just junk mail or spam, but today I seen that David responded to the e-mail, that I sent yesterday. I was eager to see what he had to say about me screwing a black guy, and that I was seeing him regularly, and I was also very apprehensive.
He said he was glad I experienced someone of a different race. He had a myriad of questions of me. I thought about how to answer his questions. Lie to him outright, tell him half-truths, or be totally truthful with him. In ten years of marriage, I don't believe we had ever lied to each other, and I thought our marriage was strong enough to tell him the truth, a little at a time, if it wasn't strong enough, I thought I could change my ways
"How long have you been seeing him?"
"About 4 weeks."
"Was he was well-hung?"
"Yes, 11"
"Was he long lasting and had staying power?"
"Yes."
"Does he shoot big, thick loads of cum as they say?"
"Yes."
"Do you think I can compete against him as a good lover?"
"Possibly."
"Have you fucked any of his friends?"
"Yes, 2"
"Do you still love me?"
"More than before. You allow me to experience others, when your not available."
I clicked "Send", and said to myself. "Well, we'll see what he has to say now." it won't be Truth or Consequences, it will be Truth and Consequences now.
Carla arrived at 1:00pm. I told here about David's e-mail, while he gave me a massage, and I told her what I wrote in response.
She said. "It was about time you're being truthful with him, you need to be more open with him about your new sexual activities, but feed him little bits of information at a time, give him time to think about it, and to savor it. If he asks for more information, like he did in his e-mail, he's a wanna-be cuckold, if he says "how could you?, your a slut, don't you love me?, questions like that, then he's a reluctant or unwilling cuckold."
I said. "I hope he's a wanna-be cuckold, I don't think I could give up being blacked. I'm to much into it now."
"Go back to those inter-racial chat rooms, and count how many white guys are there who want to see their wives or girlfriends have sex with a well endowed black guy, and be cuckolded by them. Even guys who are unattached, seek women there, who will dominate them with a black guy. Many even pose as a black guys, or wives and say how to they would treat the husband and make them submissive to their dominate pleasure. There are plenty of sites loaded with wanna-be cuckolds. And cheating wife and cuckold stories are written more by them, than any others." She said.
"I'll look into it." I said. "and I'll let you know what he say's in his e-mails, before I answer them, so you take help me to reply to them in the right way."
"All this cuckold talk has made me horney, are you ready for some gentle girl-to-girl loving?" Barbara said.
"Ok, some loving and gentle sex." I purred. This is the kind of sex I enjoyed also, especially with Barbara, whose body closely mirrored mine.
James called me Wednesday, to say he wanted to take me out to one of his favorite clubs for "Ladies Night" on Thursday. He said that I wouldn't be having any sex with him or anyone else, but that didn't mean that he didn't what me do dress like his slut. He said to wear a revealing halter that shows off plenty of cleavage, with maybe ¾'s of my breasts exposed, a skirt or dress no longer that mid-thigh, no panties, garter belt and heels, but to keep my make-up normal, that he didn't want me looking like a whore, just a slut for his black cock. He told me where I could buy what I needed, and that he would help for it.
I told him, I would be glad to get out.
He said he would be over at six o'clock and they would leave at eight.
I hadn't received a e-mail since Monday, and no phone call either. I began to worry that he had misgivings about me fucking a black guy after what I sent him on Monday. Maybe I told him too much, to soon? I thought.
James arrived shortly after 6:00pm Thursday, and I told him thanks for his help in passing the initiation for Queen Slut, and about what David said in his e-mail, and what I told him in response. Also that I had expected another e-mail or phone call from him by now, but that I heard nothing yet. James said. "He's probably involved in a on-going mission, and you'll hear from him when he gets time."
"I hope he doesn't have second thoughts about seeing me having inter-racial sex with someone now that I made his fantasy a reality." I said.
"Whatever his thoughts may be, they couldn't come close to the fact, that his wife is now a slut for black cock, and he won't realize it until he sees you begging for big black cocks to fuck you like you've been accustomed since he's been gone." He said.
"Whenever someone calls me a "slut for black cock", it creates a tingle in my pussy, and makes me feel like I've crossed some kind of boundary which used to be taboo, but now seems so normal." I said.
"Well lets go, and I'll show you where it is more normal than taboo." He said.
It was a large club, of about 200 seats, and it was three quarters full and it was only 8:30. What got my attention was that their were about forty white men, seated at the tables with white women who I imagined were their wives and their black lovers. The husbands and wives looked like what you'd find in a average suburban neighborhood, with the wives being short, tall, slim, fat, plain and gorgeous, not unlike the clubs we visited a couple of weeks ago.
As we scanned the crowd, they were checking me out, from some of the closer tables and the couples walking past us. They undoubtedly knew that I was newly blacked wife, and my black lover had brought me here to show me off and to view the black-white cuckold lifestyle that I would be involved in. I felt self conscious about having so much of my boobs and nipples on display, and not so much about my equally short skirt which exposed my thighs and ass if I should bend over to much.
