(Kathleen Connelly addresses the group)
I was almost late for the meeting but luckily, I got there just in time for the opening address. The woman at the front of the hall had just called the meeting to order.
"First of all, before we begin our meeting, is there anyone that is here for their very first time?"
I had always been quite shy but I had to speak. Having made up my mind to suppress my trepidation I slowly and somewhat hesitantly, raised my hand. A woman sitting in the row behind me patted me on the shoulder, congratulating me on being so brave. Many others nodded and smiled with approval.
"I am."
The woman put me at ease, giving me a nice warm smile.
"Welcome to our group! Would you care to come up to the podium and introduce yourself, and perhaps share your story with us?"
"Alright, thank you, I will."
I made my way down to the front of the room and asked for a glass of water then I stood there for a moment surveying the sea of faces. Once I'd gathered my courage, I began to speak.
"My name is Kathleen Connelly and I'm powerless over sex."
"Hi Kathleen!" The crowd of women filling the large hall cried out in unison
I took a big swallow of water from my glass, cleared my throat and carried on.
"I'm not exactly sure how to begin. Maybe I should start by saying that people would never suspect underneath my prim and proper middle class exterior I have an intense craving for large black cocks. I love everything about them from their taste to their texture to their musky smell. It might surprise you to know my husband is supportive of my obsession. While my marriage is perhaps somewhat unconventional before you judge me I'd like you to hear how our lifestyle evolved."
I looked around the room to see if I was getting any disapproving looks and seeing none, carried on with my story.
"I suppose if anything, it was our children who were the catalyst that set everything in motion. I love them dearly but they're both very high energy, and last year their behavior was wearing thin. Quite simply, I was exhausted and ready to take a break. I'd often thought being a mother would have been much easier if I'd had them when I was younger and had more energy.
Oh... I almost forgot to mention that they are twins. Having one girl entering puberty would be difficult enough, but two of them was enough to test the patience of a saint. Anyway, my point is the girl's rambunctious behavior was putting such a strain on our marriage that my husband and I were desperate for some relief. After sifting through various options, Stanley and I, that's my husband, decided we would send them to Camp Cayuga; a summer camp in the Pocono's which has a very good reputation. Although the fees were more than I would have liked to pay, it did have a long list of fun activities for the children so it had been easy to persuade them to go. By the time school finally ended, I would have cheerfully paid double what the camp asked for and felt it would be money well spent.
After we'd dropped the twins off at their camp, Stanley and I returned home and cracked open a bottle of champagne to toast our new freedom. We congratulated ourselves on making a wise decision then settled in to have a restful summer.
My husband generally phones me every day from work on his lunch hour and fills me in on the latest office gossip and we talk about what's happening around the neighborhood, but one day he seemed to have something else on his mind. I know my husband well and any pause in his conversation usually means he is struggling to say something. Finally, I told him to stop beating around the bush and spit out whatever it is he wanted to say.
"Well okay Kathleen," he said, "I can't fool you. There's something I need to know about last night. Now, I want you to tell the truth. You weren't just putting it on were you, you did enjoy it?"
"Sure I did Stanley," I replied. "I'd never fake it with you. The sex was out of this world!"
"Good," he said with a look of relief. "Do you remember what we were talking about when you came?"
"Yes honey," I blushed. Of course I do."
Like most middle-aged couples with over active children, our sex life had all but vanished. Now with the girls away at camp, it literally sprang back to life. For the first time in years, we had some privacy, and we began to try out various things to enhance our love life. Before we knew it, my night table drawer was filled with various kinds of vibrators and Stanley's closet was jam-packed full of adult movies. Stanley and I were like two kids set free in a candy store.
To go along with our newfound freedom I bought myself a collection of naughty lingerie and Stanley purchased a digital camera. He even managed to talk me into posing in my new lingerie for him, an activity that, to be perfectly frank surprised me by how much it turned me on.
*************************
I was shocked when Stanley told me what was on his mind. He had come right out and asked me if I would have sex with another man if I had an opportunity to do it for real.
What Stanley was referring to was a fantasy of ours, of me having sex with a well-endowed black man while he watched. After trying out the different categories of adult videos available, we'd found the ones that aroused us the most were about interracial cuckolding. In short, we were hooked, and in no time at all we began role-playing, pretending we were like the couples in the movies.
Even though I greatly enjoyed our new fantasy life, I still felt rather shy about it, and hearing Stanley talk about it on the phone sounded cheap and tawdry. It seemed like he'd broken some kind of unspoken agreement that our fantasies would remain in the bedroom. I know it sounds silly, but I believed that if we spoke about them in the cold light of day, it would somehow bring them to life. It was the first time he'd ever brought the subject up when we weren't making love, and he sounded somewhat awkward. Thinking that he was only carrying on with the previous night's fantasy, I hesitantly agreed.
"I...I suppose I could" I said, somewhat hesitantly. "I mean if you were really, really sure that's what you wanted. But it would have to be with someone I liked. I couldn't just do it with anyone. And besides," I said with some relief, "we don't know any black people."
"Oh yes we do." Stanley reminded me. "I have some interesting news for you. You know Robert Jeffries, the nice young black fellow that used to work with me, the one that we've been fantasizing about?"
"What about him, Stanley?" I asked.
"Well, prepare yourself for this," Stanley said, "Robert's going to be my new assistant."
My heart began beating wildly in my breast. Just the mention of Robert's name had me creaming my panties. I'd had a crush on Robert and my husband was using it to get me all stirred up. We'd been watching a video about a white wife being fucked (for that's certainly what they were doing) by a much younger black man. I'd been so turned on by it that in a moment of weakness I'd confessed to Stanley I could imagine doing it with Robert. He no longer worked in Stanley's office so it had seemed harmless enough.
"Don't tease me like that!" I chided him, secretly hoping he was telling the truth. If anybody could get my juices flowing, it was Robert. About three years ago, Stanley had introduced me to Robert at his company's summer picnic, and lately we'd been using him quite often in our fantasies.
Robert was the first African American I'd ever really met on a personal basis, and although he was fifteen years younger than I was, I'd been smitten from the moment I first laid eyes on him. He was very tall with coffee colored skin, a shaved head, and a smile that would melt butter, and I thought, the most handsome young man I'd ever seen.
At college we'd had a few "brothers' as they liked to call themselves but they pretty well stuck to themselves. The only thing I had learned about them was from my good friend Ellen Barclay who, in spite of all the snickering she'd received from her classmates, had fallen for Tyrell Cleaver a handsome black quarterback on the school football team.
In one of our more candid conversations, Ellen told me Tyrell had the biggest blackest cock she'd ever seen. She was the most sexually active of all my girlfriends, and believe you me, with her fondness for sucking cocks, she'd seen a lot of them.
Ellen took great delight in recounting her various escapades to us girls, so we all had a very thorough if not downright graphic sexual education from her. She would positively glow when she would describe to us how well endowed Tyrell was, and often trotted out that old cliché, once you go black you never go back. However, with Ellen's experience and forthrightness you sensed she was actually telling the truth. Her blow-by-blow description of what it was like to suck cum out of a big black cock especially fascinated me, so if you will pardon my pun, I suppose you could say she had planted the seed.
