Desiring Denise
Interracial Love Story

Desiring Denise

by Red_22b 18 min read 4.2 (4,400 views)
mixed race milf blac woman and white man romance friend of mum
🎧

Audio Narration

Audio not available
Audio narration not available for this story

This story is purely fictional, forged by the joining of something I saw on TV, and someone I saw in a cafe.

It could fit into romance, but not Mature as the age gap in 27-33, so as Denise is black.....here we are.

Please note that the MC's object of desire has had a mastectomy, if you don't like this....look elsewhere.

Your feedback is always welcome.

On a warm, balmy night, Denise, a young, black, single mother of two sits on her bed, going about her nightly routine. After showering and drying her naked body, she listens to the silence of the night and misses the hustle and bustle of having two kids. Moisturising her body, she wants to feel her best as she prepares to see her old friend Sarah, to do something other than crying into a wine glass, for the first time since Denise's husband had left her, just under 5 months ago.

####

Remembering that night six months ago it all broke down, after being through her personal hell with cancer, Denise, now in remission, had wanted to celebrate in the best way married couples can.

She and Andre had arranged a city break to firstly catch up with their friends Sarah and John, and more importantly to stay in a plush hotel, to rekindle their previously eventful sex life. Andre had booked everything, driven them there and held hands with her, like the young lovers they were when they met at university. That was also where and when she had met Sarah. Sarah was a mature student and like Denise, had kids, two boys and a girl with the youngest son, Jack, really having crushed on Denise, which she and Sarah thought was really cute.

The breakdown of Andre and Denise's marriage had been coming, in truth, she knew her husband's little ways, that loving gaze that helped her through her recent illness, the way he nurtured her back to health upon her release from hospital after the surgery. It all seemed to disappear.

Denise had felt like an imposter in her own marriage, having lost the luscious black hair due to chemo, that Andre had always said had suited her so well. Why, even the last time they managed to have sex had been downbeat, even mournful, with both of them fully aware that tomorrow, one of the 32C breasts that Andre worshipped for so long, would be gone due to having a mastectomy. He hadn't made that grunt noise he generally always had upon the release of her breasts from her bra, and as he had to take care with 1, it had affected the attention he paid to both.

First weekend in 2024 - The New Year Break

Denise had really hoped that their New Year break, a Christmas gift from Sarah, would have been the catalyst for the resumption of their lives, and importantly, of their loving one another like husband and wife traditionally do. She longed to feel like a woman again, to be intimate, to be caressed and cared for in the way that only 1 man ever had.

It all initially went so well, Denise looked ravishing in her new, short haircut, with it gelled in place to the side. It was cold, so the pullover she wore was primarily for heat, but it also covered her top half enough, hiding what she was still getting used to, having a bra filled out by a prosthetic right breast.

Andre had seen her topless as he tended to her dressings after surgery, but nothing late at night in a sexual nature. That night was to be perfect, dinner was had in a beautiful steak house, before wine in a trendy jazz bar. Her husband had drooled when she emerged from the hotel suite bedroom, dressed in a body hugging, light blue dress that caressed her natural curves, her hips that had bore 2 children, one at 14 and the other 15, at the still young age of just turned, 33. Perhaps, she quietly hoped, a 3rd might not be far away.

Dinner with their friends was just what they needed, spirits were high in the celebration that Denise was alive and well.

Leaving the jazz bar, her friends hugged them both, and Sarah pulled Denise in for a word in her ear, playfully telling her friend, "Don't break him," such was the sultry looks the married couple had exchanged. Walking home to the hotel, they walked arm in arm, and Denise pulled him in for a kiss in a doorway that took them both unawares before breaking off with a hungry, breathless stare, such was the woman's growing arousal.

Andre was aroused too, she had felt his erection that had been dormant since their last time together. He hadn't even masturbated, determined to save it all up and share it with this wonderful woman. He loved her, he was determined to get back to normal and, although he was so horny for her right in that moment, there was just that gnawing niggle, that worry. Would he still find her body sexually appealing?

The passion seemed to be diluted as they reached the hotel's front door, with Andre letting her go first.

Upon reaching the hotel room, he opened the door and stood aside, allowing his lady to go first. Denise, however, didn't want to be treated like a lady, remembering back when they were young lovers, being pinned to the door when they entered a hotel room, stripped (if even they got that far) and fucked like a porn-star with his long and thick cock.

He did run his hands along her bottom, kissing her on the neck and telling her he was going to have a nightcap, and she partly groaned, then said, "I'll have some white wine," and received a light kiss on the cheek.

At this point she would normally go into the bathroom to change, maybe into a low-slung PJ top, and discard her bra. That was then, she was different now, and kept her dress in situ as she sat down beside her husband.

They watched the tail end of a movie on TV and talked about the night they'd shared, and then he took her breath away when he looked at her deep, brown eyes and said, "You really do look sensational, my love."

Setting down her glass, she turned and gripped him by the face, "Say that again," she urged, surprised at how it had made her feel like a school girl again.

"You," he began, "Are a sexy woman, who needs to be naked right now," then he kissed her.

The kiss was hot, quickly escalating to French kissing, with her soon gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head. Moaning into their kissing, she pawed at his smooth, muscly chest, her black skin slightly lighter than his, made her just want to lick it all night.

She was now on his lap, and with the hem of her dress now up round her panties, her wetness was now on his jeans and she growled, "Take those off, right now," to him. She was hungry to taste him again, to feel his cock filling both sets of lips was the aim for the city break.

Now he was in boxer shorts, nothing between them but those, her panties, her dress, her bra and everything else she had worn out that night, and she realised that this would have to change, if they were to regain their intimacy.

"Do you want me to......take my clothes off, too?" She said, for the first time ever with nerves.

His nervous look said it all, in hindsight, like a rabbit caught in the headlights in truth. "Ok," was not the pussy trembling growl she needed.

"Let's get into bed," Denise suggested, unzipping her dress herself, with her fantastically bendy arms.

Lowering the lighting before draping her dress on the chair, her back was to her husband when she opened her bra, spiriting away the secret prosthetic that kept her outside look in place. The darkened room was a good camouflage against her silky skin, and she was naked and under the covers before Andre realised.

He touched and caressed her as they kissed, she was pulling on his cock now while he made it to the top of her thighs, and when she spread her legs he rubbed her, fingers finding that rhythm she liked to be stroked and rubbed with, around her clit. "God I love your hands on me," she said as they kissed with passion, with him paying no attention whatsoever to her torso. But she didn't mind, she was wet, and in truth a little worried what any attention to her chest area would feel like, how his smooth chest would feel against her scars and remaining breast.

Denise needed to taste her husband, and pushing him back into the mattress, she saw his head throw back as she took him into her mouth where she stayed, sucking him and caressing his heavy balls, all the while looking up to see him writhing, not looking at her like he usually did, but his eyes were tightly closed in pleasure, so she thought.

Denise didn't know it was all about to unravel, she didn't even think for a second that as she climbed up his body, he was looking at her only boob and was willing himself to be attracted to her again, as of old. She didn't realise that as she sat on his cock, kissed him and allowed her breast to fall on his chest, he would reach up to cup it, and her scar and say, "Dee," in a sad tone, and as she took his cock inside her, he continued, "Denise, stop. I'm sorry."

She should have made sure it was dark, so she thought, she should have kept her top on, she should have.....so many things. But, in truth, she knew that the haunted look on her husband's face meant that her marriage was not so much over, but dead.

He cried as much as she did, they talked all night and she stayed fully clothed throughout, with scars forming in her mind about never getting naked in front of anyone ever again.

In the morning, Sarah was surprised to hear her doorbell ringing at 9am, knowing husband was playing golf, with her grownup kids all flown the nest, she opened the front door to see her glamorous friend in the doorway, crying her eyes out as she wept into the older woman's embrace, thanking the twist of fate of Andre accidentally knocking her up - twice in quick succession - for bringing them together after she deferred her university degree. Her friend would again be invaluable over the next few months, just as she had been for the past 9 years, helping her search for jobs back home, get an apartment for her and her kids there too, with schooling and other things to consider. Andre had been a gentleman about it all, helping her in every way but the one she wanted from him, to be his wife again, with all the add-ons like sex and security. If only it was back in university

Even back then, Sarah had been like a mother figure to many of the students, with her house in the city being a base for going out on the town. Now her kids were almost all adults, except for Jack. He didn't get his growth spurt until he was almost 17, Denise got the shock of her life when she came to visit with her husband and sons, seeing the now 6ft, 18 year old towering over her made her feel old at 24, and a strange sense of something that she couldn't quite put a label on. She had caught him looking at her in the past, and couldn't help but not quickly stand up again when she bent, or not making sure her v-neck blouse was securely up over the goods. Teasing a horny 18 year old was fun. Fun that her husband picked up on, whispering to her, "You're very naughty,"

"Who? Me?" Denise replied, shocked and offended in her tone.

"You know what you're doing. That poor child is sprouting boners all over the place."

"You make me sound like a pervert, he's 18," Denise replied.

"Ah-Ha! So you are teasing him," Andre beamed, happy at being right for a change. "I'll have to take you in hand," he said, gently spanking her shapely bottom.

"Save it for tonight," she groaned as he caressed her buttocks, "Sarah is minding the kids tonight.

"Won't Lewis (The Youngest) be sleeping with us?" Andre protested, wanting some relief from his sexy wife right now.

Biting her lip, she replied, "Jack has a pull-out bed, we have the bedroom to ourselves.

They made good use of it, that night. With someone bearing witness to their copulation that would come to light many years later as the 18 year old Jack had heard the whole thing.

After that, life changed and the visits seemed to spread out over the years now to a point where Jack, Sarah's son, forgot all about his boyhood crush, having first fucked his way through university, before briefly settling down for 7 months with Alessia at 25, before that too broke down due to his wandering eye.

July 2024 - The Trip To Scotland

27 year old Jack sits in his car whilst talking to his poorly mother on his phone. "What does this, 'Dee,' look like again?"

He has agreed to fill in for Sarah, taking her old friend to a comedy gig in Glasgow, where she now lives. "Why did I agree to this, Kevin Bridges isn't even that funny anymore," he said to his mum, "Just to keep one of your old, gin-soaked friends company."

"Jack!" She said in that tone that made him apologise immediately before she continued, "You never used to complain about seeing her!"

He sat looking out onto an open square with his window down, trying not to be too obvious about checking out the hot, black MILF sitting at a bench.

"Tell me again what she looks like?" Jack asks, and for the third time is told, "Black hair, stonewashed jeans, a pink top."

Then his mother divulges the latest piece of information she has received from her friend, "Oh! Says she's sitting outside Starbucks."

Then it hit him, the hot, black girl had taken her coat off to reveal a pink t-shirt, and the stonewashed jeans too would also prompt the question that Jack thought would have been an important piece of description from his mother, "Mum....is Dee Black?"

"Of course! You remember Dee / Denise."

Raining down on him like a fine mist, the memories of that forgotten crush hit home, those stolen glances and that last night they all stayed under one roof, wheel he went down to the toilet, praying that Denise and Andre's son didn't wake up on his pull-out bed as the successfully quiet sex his parents were having in the spare room, now spilled over to such a cacophony of slapping and, "Uh-ah-ah-ah," noises, that Jack had crept to the neighbouring bathroom, fished out his cock and was beating his 18 year old meat to the rhythm of Denise's pussy getting pounded, imagining that it was he was between her thighs, fucking her tight, black cunt.

Sadly, it would be all too clear why he wasn't fucking her, fending off his climax for a pitiful amount of time to cum over the toilet bowl, have time to clean up and feel ashamed, before Andre grunted his release into his hot and sexy wife.

"Jack?" His mother's voice took him back to present day.

"Yeah, Mum....I see her now," he assured her with a, "Love you, bye."

---<>---

Jack's Story

'Holy Shit,' I thought, 'Here I am expecting to pick up some dried up or granny. I should pay more attentions to a conversation. It's Denise, she's still fucking beautiful!'

You see, yesterday (Friday) evening when my mum had rang me to give me first refusal for the comedian, she sold it to me in drips in drabs, mentioning the, 'Free Kevin Bridges Tickets,' first and foremost. Then came the driving to Glasgow part, still I was hooked as seeing a comedian in his home town, would be awesome. Them came the biggie, the part that had me reconsidering my sudden windfall as his mother mentioned, "You remember my old friend, Dee? You'll be ok to meet her in Glasgow and go with her?"

I had made a fatal error in my recollection of Mum's friends, you see, confusing the sultry, sexy Denise for my Mum's other Scottish friend, Deirdre, who behaved like my granny and looked like her, too. Rifling through the previous night's conversation that I hadn't really listened to, I picked out something about an illness and a divorce.

"Shit, Denise," I said aloud to the only person in the car, myself, as I saw her getting up and walking away from me, scanning the surrounding area and looking puzzled, as during my dazed recollections, a bus had stopped beside me and was blocking any chance of her seeing me.

Getting out, I locked it with the fob and broke into a trot shouting her name. Turning towards the sound, I'm sure my heart actually stopped, as first I noticed her round, beautiful face, her brown eyes, then her luscious lips, and then I was snapped from my observations by words that would put any sexual notions to bed, "Aaah! Little Baby Jack!"

Almost immediately, she started running / quick walk that was fast enough to almost be a run without making your boobs bounce, towards me. "Oh my God, it's been forever." Then she was hugging me, a big, hard squishy hug that pressed her well supported, industrial bra covered tits into my chest that, during her run towards me, I had noticed still looked striking in her now 30+ aged body. Doing the mathematics, she was 6 years older than me so that made her 33.

"Fucking hell, Denise, it's like you've stepped out from ten years ago," I said into her left ear as the hug seemed to tighten following my compliment that I'd followed up with, "You look astonishing!" when she finally released me. As she did so, I saw tears in her eyes, and doing something I would never have dreamt of 9-13 years ago, I cupped her face with my hands, wiping her tears with my thumbs as I asked, "Hey, what's all these for?"

Breaking away, she blew her nose into a tissue she had brought from a packet in her pocket, in hindsight suggesting she cried a lot now. "Oh ignore me, I got soppy in my old age and you've just made me feel about 90 years old. Then you start saying nice things to me and...."

"Denise," I said, standing before her and taking her shoulders in my hands to continuing, "You're certainly not 90, and you can knock the, 'Little Baby Jack,' thing on the head too, please."

Finally, I got that smile I recalled from my otherwise misspent youth. Chuckling through her tears, she reached for my hands, taking them both in what was now a mutually and immediate, touchy-feely start to our new, grownup friendship and said, "You've just made me smile for the first time in months."

As if realising that this was strange, she released my hands as if they burned and said, "This is going to be fun," before I directed her towards my car.

Inserting myself in the drivers seat, I saw out of the corner of my eye, Denise lowering the seat belt over her chest, to my regret that she'd decided to wear such an all constricting bra. Securing my own safety belt, I started the car and we were off.

As it was now 5:30pm, I suggested we have something to eat before the gig at the Barrowlands. I was just pondering where to take my teenage fantasy to dine, only to have to fight back the words, "Marry me," when Denise enthusiastically announced,"I know a really good burger-bar!"

Taking our seat in the American styled diner, I really had to concentrate on my menu and not just gaze at Denise as she studied the meals on offer.

I must inform you, dear reader, that Denise was the very first black person I had spent any length of time with, through my mother, and the silky skin I was fascinated by back then had not lessened it's effect on the 27 year old me. Her brow furrowed, and she caught me looking at her as she shyly said, "My eyesight isn't great in my old age," and donned a pair of black framed, quite thin glasses, doing nothing to diminish her sexiness.

This was bad, I was struggling already to not fall in love with her. How would I explain that to my mum? "Oh, I cheered your friend up after her marriage collapsed by living out a teenage fantasy, telling her I loved her."

Not that Denise would do anything other than laugh it off, coming from a 27 year old Optometrist who lived with his mother for much of the past 2 years.

After the waitress had taken our orders, she asked about my mum, understandably disappointed about not seeing her. "Oh, you know her, telling me I need to find a girlfriend, but then telling me off when I don't come home at the weekend."

"She told me about you disappearing at the weekend, and the schoolboy errors you make afterwards."

My eyebrows shot up as she'd said this, settling into her seat with her mojito cocktail in one hand, holding the straw to her glossy, crimson lips. "What has my Mum been saying?" I exclaimed.

Enjoyed this story?

Rate it and discover more like it

You Might Also Like