I won't claim to be proud of what I did, but I'm also not ashamed of it either. I did it and that is that. That's all there is to it. Nothing more. What happens in my life now, what consequences I have to pay, are of my own doing and I will accept them. As for why I did it . . . Well, it was just something that I had to do. Simple as that.
I'd been married to my wife, Julia, for over fifteen years, ever since we were seniors in college. I'm not going to say they've been lousy years, but I won't say they've been fantastic either. They've just been fifteen years of marriage . . . Period.
Neither of us were virgins when we met either, a fact that I didn't hold against her, nor did she hold against me. And, for the most part, our sex life has been pretty good . . . Pretty damn good actually. But, we were hitting forty and for some reason my libido was raging while hers was weakening. So while it was still good when it did happened . . . It wasn't happening all that often anymore. I tried several different things to get her fired back up but nothing seemed to work so I was forced to find my fun elsewhere.
Now, I know a lot of guys use this sort of thing as an excuse to fool around, to hook up with some other woman on the side, maybe some young hotty at the office or whatever. And I will admit that I was tempted to do just that. But I didn't. Instead I started surfing the net for porn . . . And boy, I found it. Tons of it. Tons and tons. I used the porn to get me off, downloading pictures and films for my own pleasure when Julia was out of the house.
Then I discovered text porn. Written stories about all kinds of different things . . . Fun things. BDSM. Group Sex. Incest/Taboo. Loving Wives. Interracial Lovers. Things that I had never imagined were right there for me to read about and stroke off to. Fan-Damn-Tastic! I loved it.
And I was hooked.
I eventually tried using some of these things to help me fire up Julia's libido. I started showing her some of the stories, asking her to read them and to share her thoughts. At first she did . . . hesitantly. But she soon stopped participating and became even more quiet than before.
Then, one day about four months later, I found something on the computer that I didn't remember downloading. It was a web address for a site that specifically catered to interracial sex. It was full of short films, stories and pictures of different races getting it on. And, of course, most of it was dedicated to black men with white women. I wracked my brain but could not remember having visited the site previously.
Over the next couple of weeks I watched my internet travels closely. I looked closer at the pop ups that appeared when I was doing my surfing and started checking all the hidden crannies for other information. I soon knew that it was Julia who was visiting the site. After I was away from the house for a few hours and she was there alone I would find the telltale little traces in the different files. Because of this I was also able to see some of the videos she would download, view, then delete.
Yep, you guessed it. Black men and white women.
Did this surprise me? Damn right it did!
See, Julia comes from one of those old fashioned kind of upbringings. She'd made it clear that she didn't approve of interracial couples of any sort. I mean, she wasn't a bigot or prejudice or anything like that, she just thought that folks should stay with their own race. Or so she'd always declared. But now?
Once I had it figured out though, that it was her visiting this website, I started trying to think of some way to broach the subject with her. To let her know what I'd figured out and to see if maybe she was interested in maybe checking some of it out together. Well, when I did finally come up with the nerve all she did was just shut me down solid, telling me I was silly and didn't know what I was talking about.
But I could see it in her eyes. I could see she was lying. And that she knew that I knew it too.
So that was when I decided to do something . . . something a little crazy . . . Maybe even a little insane.
Where we live and where I work ain't exactly south-central or anything. What I mean is that there ain't a lot of blacks around. But we do have some black friends, and some of them are single men. I decided to approach a couple of them about what was happening, what the situation was and what I had in mind. John and Paul jumped at the chance that I offered and we started planning.
Not being super clever diamond thieves like in the movies we decided to do it the simplest way we could think of. So one Friday night I had a little party at the house with a dozen or so friends. As usual Julia welcomed the idea and put together a light dinner and drinks type of thing for everyone.
Julia was wearing one of her loose, button up blouses and a pair of semi-tight shorts. Her long hair flowed around her shoulders freely. All night long I kept catching my two friends checking her out with approving looks while my own heart raced with anticipation at what I believed the night would hold.
We all had a good time chatting and laughing for a few hours then, as most of our friends are married with children, the guests began thinning out around ten and by eleven it was just the four of us. John, Paul, Julia and myself.
Casually I asked the guys if they wanted to watch a movie and soon we were in the living room cueing up the DVD with drinks in our hands.
Right as the movie was starting Julia excused herself to go to the restroom, as I knew she would. Fifteen years together and it never failed. Start a movie and she'd make me pause it while she ran to the tinkle-torium. But sometimes routine habits like this work in someone else's favor. While she was out of the room I dropped a sleeping pill into her drink and stirred it until it dissolved.
(That's right . . . I drugged my wife. I said I'd deal with my consequences and I meant it. You just read the story, okay?)
It was a weak one. Over the counter. Cheap and all but useless. But added to the few drinks, the late hour and the way Julia is susceptible to medicines I knew it would have the effect I wanted. I didn't want her zonked out. NO! I wanted her body responsive and her brain functioning . . . just not functioning too well.
My sweet, beautiful wife.
She returned from the restroom and we started the movie again. Thirty minutes later I reached behind her drooping head to dim down the lights. She was slumped into the crook of the couch corner, her eyelids sagging lazily as she fought to stay awake and be a polite hostess. I put my arm around her and she folded in against me, her head resting on my shoulder.
I waited another couple of minutes until her breathing grew light, then, ignoring the TV, I started the process that I hoped would open the doors for what I had in mind. I dropped my one hand, the one attached to the arm around her shoulder, down onto her breast. Leaving it resting there lightly I began to gently stroke at her hidden mound with my fingers, delicately rubbing across the pushed out area of her blouse. I reached up with my other hand and did the same to the underneath of her other breast, delicately stroking and caressing it through her clothing. After several minutes I heard her mew softly in her dazed, dreamy state.
After fifteen years I know what my wife likes. Even as lackadaisical and scattered as our sex life has grown, I still know what she enjoys. And I used that to my advantage that night. I used it all.
For half a movie I sat their gently stroking and caressing her breasts through her clothing. My fingers gliding back and forth, up and over, down and across. After undoing the top button to her blouse I slipped my fingers inside too, the tips dancing over the upper parts of her breasts, the fleshy area not covered by her bra. I also leaned down every few minutes and lightly kissed her, either on the top of her head or the side. Or I leaned a little further down and gently blew in her ear. This all had the effect that I both wanted and expected. Her nipples grew hard beneath her clothing, their firming points jutting out against the material. Her breathing grew heavier too, a mixture of arousal and light dozing, while occasional soft mews of pleasure purred in her throat.
For the most part I sat their looking down at her, watching her facial expressions or my hands on her chest, but I would look up from time to time and when I did I saw both John and Paul looking over with wide smiles on their faces. Basically the movie, a cover for what our true intentions were, had been forgotten by us all as we anxiously awaited the events that we hoped and planned for to unfold.
Eventually I looked over and nodded at the guys, indicating that it was time to move our plan to phase two. Paul had the remote and he killed both the movie and the TV, instantly casting the living room into near darkness with only the one dimmed light offering illumination.
Julia was dozing softly so I scooted off the couch and slipped her into my arms, lifting her up and carrying her across the room. I headed for our study where I'd prearranged a few things. The central piece of furniture in that room is one of those funky couch things with no back and only one arm rest which sort of rolls up high. (I have no idea what it is or why we have it except Julia liked it and wanted it, so it's there.) I'd set the lights in there to a dim glow for a romantic setting, the way things up close can be seen but it's not all stark bright and like that.
As I lowered Julia onto that couch-thing she stirred a little, rolling her head and opening her eyes slightly. She looked around for a moment then glanced up at me.
"Why are we in the study?" She whispered.
"Just something a little different," I shrugged, giving her a mischievous grin.
I then leaned down and kissed her lips, brushing mine across hers lightly before planting them. I felt her smile around the kiss as I pressed against her a little, one hand sliding along her leg, the other brushing her hair back a little.
I slipped my tongue into her mouth, my hands continuing to caress her. I heard the guys come into the room and take seats in a couple chairs I'd placed against the one wall. I'd tried to think of everything, wanting badly to make this happen and not screw it up by showing my hand too soon so I had gone over nearly the entire plan with them in advance, explaining that some last minute changes might need to be made but hoping not.
Julia responded to my french kiss by swishing her tongue over mine and raising her hands to hold my arms and rub over my back a little. I kept my one hand caressing her legs, sweeping up and down along the top and inner edges of them. My other hand cupped her face, my fingers stroking her cheek and around her ear.
"Mmmmmmm," she mewed a few times while we kissed.
