Based on the messages I received after I wrote about my experience with a man who liked water sports, I thought some of you might like my memories of my attempts to bed my first black lover. I had heard and read about the special thrills and joys some white women get from black men. My husband had spoken of their reputation for large cocks. My husband made suggestions about the thrills I would experience with a black lover. All this became a fun part of our marital lovemaking.
I have one close friend who is also a shared wife. She happens to be black. She would talk about her experiences in bed with several black men and some white men. She had decided that black men were really about the same as white men. She told me that her husband was nothing special and she figured that the white women who longed for a black cock were just after what they hoped would be something a little different, without really knowing that the difference wasn't all that much.
Despite my friend and her comments, I still was curious and planned to taste a black man when the opportunity came along. However, I was not making a special effort to attract a black lover. I was just taking things as they happened, responding to men who showed interest in me if I thought they might make a good bed partner. Few black men paid much attention. If fact, I wondered if, for some reason, I was not attractive to many of them.
Then, my husband started to bring it up more frequently during our lovemaking. He would talk about how he had heard that once a woman experiences a big black cock, she will never be satisfied with white men again. Soon, my imagine was running on high octane, especially as my husband was inside me and would tell me how much further a black cock would go up into my belly or how many more sensations a thicker cock would provide.
My husband would tell me that I seemed so much wetter when he teased me with tales of big black cocks. I knew that his thrusts brought me to orgasm quicker when he told me about some big black cock he was imagining! So I decided that if no black man seemed to want me, I would find a black man I wanted and try to attract him.
My first try was an officer of my bank. I had always liked him and found him attractive. He had a smile that could melt me and I was sure, somehow, that he would be great orally.
I asked my husband what he thought and, together, we worked out a plan to attract this man. I am a bit of an exhibitionist, I guess, and we decided to use the excitement I get from showing off a little. I began to visit my banker more often. I brought a few low cut blouses to work and would change into one in the ladies room just inside the rear entrance to the bank's business office. I would not dare wear something so revealing to my office but I did wear them to do my banking - and bending - in front of his desk.
Several times, I saw his eyes taking in my cleavage. I experienced that delicious surge of emotion as he seemed to devour my breasts with his eyes. I loved it! He cleared his throat on a few occasions and lost track of the conversation a few more times. His mouth dropped open once and he just stared, speechless. I loved it!
But that was it. He looked and enjoyed the show but did not make a move. I was stuck. All sorts of doubts and questions flooded into my head. Should I ask him if he enjoyed the view? That might embarrass him and ruin everything. Should I shed my bra and give him a peek at my nipples? Maybe, I decided, he was uncomfortable with my displays but did not want to make that fact obvious because he might alienate a customer.
My husband loved it when I told him, day by day, what I had worn and what the bank officer's reaction was. He was surprised and disappointed that the man did not take the hints. He visited the bank and observed the man. He told me that he thought I had made a good choice because the man was indeed handsome and charming in the way he worked with customers.
My husband asked whether the banker was frightened and suggested that I tell him that I wanted to get some advice on investments during lunch some day. I tried that and even told the bank officer that lunch would be my treat. He suggested that another officer in another branch was more appropriate to talk about investments and offered to arrange an appointment. I was frustrated! I thought about giving up.
I finally decided that I had invested several weeks of effort in this man, visiting his bank branch and changing into and out of my revealing blouses, waiting till he was available and then positioning myself to show off. Probably, everyone in the bank knew what I was doing by this time!
