This story is a work of fiction. It tells the story of a white married woman approaching her fortieth birthday who is unsatisfied with her sex life. Vulnerable and feeling like her life must have more; she is unsure what that "more" might entail. A chance encounter leads her down a path with an uncertain end. Will she "break away" from her stale personal life, or will she retreat back? It involves infidelity and interracial sex; if that is not for you please go elsewhere. Otherwise, read on, and enjoy.
No animals were harmed in the writing of this story®.
A Beginning
Becky had graduated from college at 20, married in June of that year, and birthed twin boys a year later. She and her husband Bill had decided that she would stay home with the twins until they were at least in grade school, and then go back to work. They had all the usual accoutrements; a nice home (with a mortgage), two cars (with accompanying car payments), and...yes, the twins. Grade school came and went and by the time she thought about going to work she was thirty and the twins were well into middle school.
She decided that the real estate business might suit her lifestyle. You dealt with all sorts of people; first-time homebuyers, families moving up from a 3 bedroom to a 4 bedroom, and people interested in buying a home, watching until it appreciates, and then flipping to another owner. So she acquired her real estate sales license and went to work for Van Nostrand Realty. Within a year she was their top sales agent and had been so for the last 9 years. All of a sudden, one day in March, it dawned on her...she was approaching forty...the big "Four-Oh."
As she dressed for work she said to herself, for a mother of two approaching 40 I still look good. Apprising herself, she turned this way and that, thinking that her breasts had held up well given the strain of kids and time, but they were still full and rounded. She was a 'C' cup when married, now a 'D' cup, but even with the size increase her breasts still jutted forward with only the slightest bit of sag. She had always been what men referred to as "curvy" and those curves remained in all the right places. A few more pounds since her college days, yes, but still an attractive, sexy figure. She "dressed for success", white blouse under a blue blazer with the Van Nostrand logo, blue skirt a conservative length just below the knees, and a pair 2 inch high heels.
It would seem that she had it all; a good job, kids now in college and a husband who said he loved her. But that "had it all" was not really true. Unlike some women approaching their forties who thought that sex was optional, for Becky it was at the top of the list. Except her husband treated sex like a burden. A passionate relationship, no; more a relationship with only an occasional roll in hay with 10 minutes in the missionary position -- she needed more than that. Much more. She had confided in her best friend and neighbor Anna how unhappy she was in her personal life...and how much more she wanted.
But, back to work. She had an appointment at 11 AM that day, showing a house being sold from foreclosure. The previous owners had abandoned the house fully-furnished, and the cleaners, painters and carpenters had been there the previous week. The house looked ready to sell, was priced to sell, and the office manager told her the buyer was ready to buy. She just had to sell him on it. A piece of cake, she thought.
She got to the house about 15 minutes early, parked, and went inside to make sure the air conditioning was running. It was, and she took a quick tour of the house to make sure everything was shipshape. Right on time, a silver Acura pulled in the driveway and a tall black man walked to the front door and knocked.
Becky opened the door to stare up at the man, dressed casually in slacks and shirt. He was at least 6 foot five inches tall and had dark mocha skin. "You must be Becky," he said, "I'm Ray Adams, here to see the house". He held out his large right hand and she shook hands with him nervously.
"Hi, Ray," she said somewhat awkwardly. She was awestruck almost immediately by his friendly nature, stature and handsomeness. There were no blacks in her circle of friends; Becky had often admired black men, but from afar. She began showing him the house, room by room, and, as they entered the kitchen, his hand brushed against hers. Then, as she turned to reach up on her tiptoes to show him the kitchen cabinet space, he placed his hand on her waist. "Steady," he said, "I can reach up there. You're wearing heels."
Becky stepped down but Ray's hand did not move from her waist. Should I brush his hand away, she thought to herself. She surprised herself by letting his hand stay on her waist. "Let's look at the master bedroom," she said, "It has a skylight that really sets the room off." As they climbed the stairs together, Ray's hand brushed her hand again.
She was describing all the features of the bedroom to Ray as they walked inside. Becky's back was turned to him as she told him how great it would be to have a skylight right above the bed. She felt his hand on her waist again and turned toward him. As she did, Ray leaned forward to kiss her.
Her first reaction was to pull away but something inside her, that little voice, said "Stay." She let out a startled "Uh, what are you doing?" before his lips touched hers. And then his hands were around her waist, pulling her towards him. She kissed him back. They stood that way for several minutes, in each other's arms, kissing. Another little voice piped up, saying to her, "You're married, don't do this".
But the passion she felt in his arms drowned out any doubts; she thought "Enjoy it, you deserve this."
Her jacket fell to the floor. He began to unbutton her blouse while looking into her eyes. He placed one of his massive hands on her left breast and began to softly massage her while she finished unbuttoning her blouse and letting it fall also. Then it was his turn; she pulled his shirt over his head and shoulders, leaving him naked from the waist up. Her hands went to his belt buckle. Loosening it, his pants fell to the floor. She slipped his boxers down and he kicked both his trousers and his boxers to the side. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed down. She slowly dropped to her knees in front of him.
Once on her knees, she was taken aback by the size of his cock. Becky was no newbie when it came to giving oral pleasure; she and her husband had experienced it, albeit only every so often. But she had never been intimate with a man this endowed. And, she had never, ever been with a black man. Those little feelings of guilt tried to invade her thoughts again; "You're a married woman, he's black, what would your husband, your family say if they found out?" But she pushed those thoughts farther away and let her enjoyment take over.
She gasped just a bit as first the head, then the shaft entered her mouth. She wanted him now, all of him, but had to go slowly lest she gag on his now swollen member. After adjusting the angle, she couldn't get his black cock in her mouth fast enough. She forced his cock into her throat, resisting the reflex to gag.
"God, that feels wonderful," he moaned as he helped her take another inch down her throat. But she needed to breathe freely and pulled his cock out of her throat. She began stroking him, faster and faster. She placed him back in her mouth; he now sped up his thrusts in and out of her mouth with his big black cock. She could feel the cum begin to build inside him.
Becky had never swallowed her husband's cum during their lovemaking, considering it unfeminine, but now she remained locked on to Ray's cock, tightly. She closed her eyes just as he unloaded what felt like a quart of his cum. It overflowed from her mouth and ran down her chin onto her breasts. He lifted her from her kneeling position, her legs shaky. She was alive with lust and at the same time embarrassed; her with a man not her husband and her with his cum covering her chin and breasts. She turned and went to the bathroom, without a word. She closed the door and washed the cum off of her, and rinsed out her mouth. She dressed, and thought she could leave the bathroom like nothing had happened. But it had.
Leaving the bathroom, Ray was nowhere in sight. Had he left, had she ruined the sale by giving herself to him? She needn't be concerned; Ray was in the kitchen, sitting at the table. "Why don't we close this deal," he said, "I'll take the house as is."
