Black History Month 2

BLACK HISTORY MONTH

"You know this is Black History Month, right?" she said as we sat down to dinner.  I nodded, said I had heard it on the radio.  "I was thinking we could do something to celebrate it," she said with a sly look on her face.

Claire and I are swingers and have had an open marriage for six years.  "I was thinking I could honor a notable black person from history every week by fucking a black man once every seven days," she said with a wicked smile.   "I call it my Diversity Initiative," she added with a grin.  "What do you think?"

"I think it is outrageous enough to be something only you would think up," I said.  "It sounds just like you,"  I added.  "You should call a press conference," I said.  "Announce it on your blog.  Start a movement.  Fuck a black man for MLK," I said with a smirk, being way more sarcastic than I intended.

"You're mocking me now, but I think I will do my own tribute campaign this month," she said, "for racial equality and sexual freedom."

It was not like she had never been with a black person.  We belong to a swinging group that has two black couples as members and Claire has spent the night with the husband of one of those couples.  He is a tall, athletic man of thirty-five who is a lawyer from Los Angeles and has large hands and what often goes with that physical attribute.  His name is Marcus and has been with my wife on two occasions.

Yes, he is very popular with the wives of the group, most of whom are white.   I asked her if she had a list and she smiled, said she was compiling one.  I realized she wasn't kidding with the Black History thing.  When Claire sets her mind on something she is set on automatic pilot straight to ground zero.   If she decides to do something, there is little you can do to dissuade her.

"So, where are you going to hold this noble celebration?" I asked.

"You could help celebrate Black History Month by contributing to the hotel expense of the project," she said with a grin.

"Okay," I said, "I might do that.  You have a place in mind?"

"I was thinking of the Marriott," she said.  "A suite.  Has to be worthy of the occasion," she said.  "You could help me find candidates, make the list.  You have some friends who might qualify," she said.  Right then we sat down at the dining room table and she took out a yellow pad and a pen.

"What about that fellow you went to college with, Anthony?"

"Lives in Santa Maria.  I am sure he would appreciate being on your list.  He'd fuck you for a cookie, or for nothing at all," I said.  "Write his name down." She did.

"Okay, that's one," she said.  "We need three more.  Maybe two more for back up," she added.  "Maybe we need to write out an invitation, explaining the intention of the event, making it official.  "Fuck a white woman for MLK and racial equality," she said.  "Make it look official," she said.  "You know: 'You are cordially invited to participate in a Black History Month Fuckathon.'  How does that sound?"

"Sounds fucking exciting," I said.  "Any brother would be than more than happy to salute racial equality by fucking a hot white woman.  Who could pass that up?" I said.

We got the addresses of the four main candidates and had the invitations printed up on our printer.

Dear (blank),

We would like you offer you

a chance to participate in

The Black History Month

Celebration to be held at the

down town Marriott on (date)

by accepting the sexual favors

of Claire Carter for one night

of sexual bliss.  Please return

this form indicating your

interest and whether you will

participate or not.

Sincerely,

Claire Carter

We send the letters and waited for the responses.  We included our cell phone number in case anyone wanted check out our sincerity.

Letters went out to Anthony, Wendall, Carlos, and Marshall. The first one we got back was from Marshall.  Then came Anthony.  We got a call from Carlos.  Then came a "hell yes" from Wendall.  We also included pictures of Claire, three shots of her in a shorty nightgown.  Wendall's note said, "Fine looking white lady."

The first night was scheduled for March 2 with Anthony.  We met him in the restaurant, in the lounge, told him  we would be at the bar and she would be wearing a red dress and carrying a pink purse.  He came in and spotted us immediately, recognizing me from college, although he didn't know I was involved.

He came over to the bar and we went right to a table and he kissed Claire before sliding in.  We explained we were swingers and this just went along with our sexual philosophy. We talked for a few minutes, letting the two of them get acquainted, then I explained that I would be in the room next door.  He nodded and grinned, admiring her red dress, and smiled.

When I left them Claire looked like she could handle things just fine.  I kissed her before she closed the door and I told her to have fun.  As swingers we had developed ground rules for our lifestyle.  We allowed the other person to do as they wished, but we agreed to be totally honest and tell the other one everything about our swinging activities.

There had to be no secrets.  We both love sex, but we believe sex is a recreation that should bring pleasure and not limit us to silly rules about monogamy and love.  We believe in unconditional love, not possessive, repressive, and controlling attachments.

Our marriage began ten years ago when we decided to make it legal after living together for two years.

Claire worked for the county schools and I was employed by the telephone company as an electrician.  We joined the swinger group after being married for a year.  We never bought into the monogamy philosophy and had an open marriage from the start.  She has her intimate friends and I have mine.

During her inaugural event, we decide I would have the room next door, and I would resist listening to what went on in their room.   Claire's idea was certainly a variation on our swinging lifestyle, but it was typical of her imagination to come up with similar antics like this one.  One time she decided to seduce a policeman and did just that as he tried to cite us for an illegal turn.  He ended up in his own backseat with my wife on his lap, his pants around his knees, and his hard on deep in her pussy as she bounced over him.

Her fascination with interracial sex began after a trip to the Virgin Islands.  We hailed a cab and she ended up with the cab driver at our hotel and screaming multiple orgasms throughout the night.  She fucked his big dick raw and made him beg for rest.  His black dick was maybe eight inches but it was hanging limp and loose by morning.

She said she liked the size and the thrill of dark meat between her legs, and vowed to repeat that as often as possible.

I remember when March 2 had finally come, and her date with Anthony arrived we had prepared her all afternoon and then drove to the hotel.  Anthony was in the lounge as I said and we ordered drinks and sat at a table to discuss the night.   He said he loved the idea and winked at me to show his enthusiasm for her project.

I had gone to my room to wait out the night.  It was a long one because I was so excited.  The next day she and I talked about it, and she recalled everything they did, describing in detail the sex they had together.  She said Anthony was very attentive and thoughtful, and he was a consummate lover, giving her orgasm after orgasm and making her feel like a totally desired woman.

They began with a usual missionary position, then began to get more creative, letting her get on top and riding him like a cowgirl.  He was bigger than most, but not incredibly large, but he had exceptional endurance and loved fucking, especially white women.  Not that he thought white women were better at fucking, but the taboo and the novelty of it gave him a thrill he readily admitted.  "I love white pussy," he had told friends.

Also, Anthony just loved oral sex, adored kissing and sucking on pink, puffy lips, loved sticking his tongue far into a vagina and lapping up the juice that flowed during oral lovemaking.  Anthony and Claire celebrated racial harmony by fucking for hours ravenously, humping and thrusting like animals in rut.  He was the perfect way to kick off her campaign for racial rapport and alliance.

Claire sucked Anthony's thick penis with an eagerness and devotion that had him dizzy with enthusiasm and desire. He came after thirty minutes of devoted sucking and kissing his fat cock, stiff and round and black.  When he came she held him in front of her open mouth and caught what spewed out in streams of pearly semen.  It took him only minutes to be ready again and he slipped back into her pussy with hardly a pause.

He fucked my wife with complete devotion to pleasing her, not showing any of the bullish aggression usually associated with large black men.  He was gentle, considerate, and he fucked like a gentleman has sex with a woman he cares for.  She put her hands on each of his hips and guided him to her, pulling him towards her and pushing herself against him.

Anthony and Claire celebrated racial harmony until nearly two that morning, then slept in peace until nearly noon.   I went to their room after she called me and took her by the hand and led her to our car.  On the way home she talked about how good a lover Anthony had been.

Claire met with Wendall next, using the same room she had with Anthony.  Again, I stayed in the room next door.  Wendall spent most of the time eating her pussy, as he preferred oral sex over nearly everything else.  They again slept most of the day and she met me in the restaurant and said goodbye to Wendall next to the table.  The restaurant staff looked fascinated by the woman in front of a table where a white man sat while she kissed and said goodbye to a black man.  I was amused by their reaction, although I was pleased that they didn't seem to be bothered by it.

When she met Carlos I was already in my room and the had ravenous sex until almost sun up.  I drove her home with a sublime look on her face as she relived her night with sensitive and attentive Carlos.   For days after him she looked dreamily into space as she remember what she said was the "best loving" she'd ever gotten.

Marshall was a man from Jamaica who had only lived in the states for a few months before we found him.  He not only fucked her, he entertained her with impromptu drumming on the table, the top of the bedside table, and on the sink.  He was a steel drum master and regaled her with Calypso music as well as great sex all night.

When I drove us away from the hotel she couldn't stop talking about Marshall's skill in bed, ability to make music anywhere, even on her stomach.  Marshall was, as black are supposed to be, as large as a horse in the male equipment department.

She was so enthusiastic about her nights with Anthony, Wendall, Carlos, and Marshall, that she can hardly wait for next March to come around so she can once again celebrate Black History Month.  It was an inspiration that she became so enthusiastic about that I couldn't help but also get excited about.  We have an open marriage and, of course, have had other sex partners, but her having a black lover each week during Black History Month was an inspiration I have to compliment her on.  She proved black can truly be beautiful.