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.
