A terrible saga that becomes more common every day!
The evangelical wife of a Southern Californian, college professor goes black
I am a college professor in Southern California. I'm in my sixties. Ten years ago I married a woman 20 years younger than me. She was a student in one of my classes, and although she was twenty years younger than me—she looked at least thirty years younger.
Lori was small and gorgeous. She had light brown, almost blonde hair, which was coiffed neatly to her shoulders. Most important, she was an angelic looking girl. She just was too attractive to resist.
I asked her out, and surprisingly she took me up on my offer. Before long we were dating regularly. I couldn't believe my luck. A paunchy old guy like me with this young knockout. When we were together people looked and wondered: Was I her father or her date? Guys were always checking her out, whether they recognized I noticed it or not.
Well, after a year or so of dating, we were married and had a little girl. Everything was heaven except one thing. I wasn't very religious and Lori was
very
religious. Literally, she was an evangelical Christian, and somewhat narrow-minded. I hate to say it, but she was also slightly bigoted. She had told me on numerous occasions, she could never understand girls that dated black men. She'd always insist she wasn't prejudiced, but would also insist she would
never
date a black.
Being pretty liberal, and a long time Democrat, it bugged me. But, for the sake of the marriage, I always just let it go.
Then something weird happened.
We were attending a wild New Years Party at the university I teach at, I'd left the dance floor to go to the john. In the john was Willie Smith one of our janitors. Always a nice guy, Willie was probably around my age...maybe a few years younger. Let's say, late fifties.
"Hey Mr. K...your girl is somethin' nice, man."
I was a little shocked at Willie's frankness.
"Thank you, Willie. I'm sure Lori would thank you, too. I probably don't compliment her enough these days."
"Man, I be doin' more than compliment her. She be hot!!!" he said, laughingly, as he stepped up to the urinal.
With that, Willie whipped out a cock the likes of which I'd never seen before. At least a foot long and thick. I couldn't help but stare at the thing.
He noticed.
As he pee'd, Willie waved and waggled it, splashing a hard line of pee all over the wall of the urinal. It sprayed all over.
He looked at me and smiled while he commandeered the amazing organ in his fist:
"If you ever need any help wit' Lori, 'dere professa', you jus' let ole' Willie know. I get da' job done."
I was outraged at the man's impertinence. Maybe he'd had too much to drink, I thought. Yet, I couldn't take my eyes off his incredible, mammoth-like, black dick. Dark and uncut, it was something, size-wise, I'd never seen before.
I left the john, but couldn't get the image out of my head all night—or all the following week. Next the week turned into a month, then months.
It is hard to say what the excitement was. I'm not gay, or into the cuckold stuff. But I couldn't stop the picture of that old, black janitor, shaking his enormous python of a dick and talking about using it on Lori. Especially with Lori's attitudes about blacks.
This all played in my mind for months. Whenever I saw Willie he'd be polite, but then ask:
"How's Lori doin' professa'?" with a big smile.
"Oh fine, Willie."
"She ask about me yet?" he'd tease.
"No. Not yet," I answered kidding back. But after a while...as if he planted the thought in my head, purposely...I began to have pictures in my head of—Willie and Lori!!!
I would find myself masturbating and picturing my young wife, mother of my daughter, fucking Willie, the university's janitor.
I felt terrible guilt over it. But it began to possess my thoughts. Soon, I found the only way I could get off was picturing Lori and Willie. Even during sex with Lori, I pictured I was Willie fucking her—and I fucked her hard! Harder than I ever had before.
In time, something seemed to take hold in me. It was an idea:
I had to see Lori and Willie together!
It was the strangest compulsion I ever had. It repulsed and attracted me both at the same time. But I couldn't get the vision out of my head.
Did I want Lori to fuck this old, black janitor with the horse-cock? No, no no! It was disgusting to think such a thing.
But...the answer was: Yes...I did.
Yes. Somehow, for some reason—that I couldn't understand—I wanted my wife to submit to being fucked by this old, black guy. To give herself up to him—heart and soul!
I didn't just want it. I needed it. The thought of it gave me the most violent orgasms I'd ever had in my life. Where I used to just dribble out when I came. Now, my ejaculations squirt forth like geysers. Fantasies of Willie and Lori had made me rampant.
Yes, I'd always had a weak sex drive until Willie had planted the thought in my head. Now I was jacking off and fucking Lori like no tomorrow. When Willie would joke about Lori, I found myself playing along much more now.
"How Lori be, Mr. K?"
Seeing no one was around I'd respond:
"She keeps asking about you, Willie," I'd smile back.
"Really," he'd ask, half kidding, half quizzically.
"Oh yeah, Willie," I'd continue the joke beyond a husband's normal propriety, "She's always asking about 'How's Willie doing?' Really she asks about you all the time. Did you put some kind of spell on her Willie?"
"Well," he'd beam, "You tell her anytime, anywhere." Then he'd look at me. I could tell, he was checking out my demeanor to see if I was following what his comments were really referring to. It was clear he was hoping beyond hope that I did.
"Don't tease her Willie," I'd continue, making sure no one was around who could over hear this, coming from a tenured professor to the school janitor:
"You'll have her chasing you all over town."
Willie looked at me for a short pause, looked around, then grabbed his huge dick through his pants and shook it:
"I'll give her some 'a' 'dis Dr. K. But only if it be Ok with you 'a' course."
I could see the monstrosity outlined through his pants. I admit, it was exciting. I'm not gay, but this kind of dick would excite anyone, man or woman.
"I don't know if she could handle all that Willie." I tried to say calmly, but my voice was hoarse with excitement.
"Only one way to find out, prof." Willie said, glaring at me and continuing to hold the enormous organ, outlining it against his pants. Willie's seriousness, and confidence was clearly growing—along with his aroused gland.
I was starting to shake with excitement.
"Maybe someday, Willie," I croaked.
"I could tell she be likin' some dark meat first time I saw her, Dr.K," Willie beamed.
I thought, how wrong could a man be...
But then he continued:
"Cause the way she looked at me when we danced last year at the New Years Party."
I was stunned.
"What? Willie that must have been someone else."
"Nope. It was ya' wife all right... I think she was a little sa' prized, but she danced wit' me. Think she felt the bona' I had for her too. We danced tight and close."
"W...w...when was this?"
"You left to take a leak or somethin'. I just went out on da' floor and took her by da' arm. Sure she resisted a little, but 'den she let me hug her and dance her around till da' end a da' song. I tell ya' 'dis Doc, by da' end a da' song she was likin' what she felt down 'dere. I can tell when a woman be likin' it. She sho' wont pullin' way no mo' by da' end a da' song."
"She never mentioned it to me..." I said, not sure whether to believe this strange, inconceivable story or not. Lori, my wife, with this old, black man—grinding hips on the dance floor?
"Well gee, doc. Why ya' think dat' is?" Willie said with a broad, knowing grin.
"I...I...I don't know." I was bewildered at all the strange feelings in side of me. Jealousy...excitement...horniness...anger.
"Why didn't she tell me?" I thought.
"How many of my peers must have seen them?" I wondered.
When I got home that night, I asked Lori about it. She seemed uncomfortable. Then she made as if she remembered it vaguely and tried to brush it off.
I figured, hey, this is what I've been waiting for. Why kill it?
While our daughter was off to stay at her grandparents, I brought home some porn videos. From time to time, I'd done this in the past. Lori didn't like it, but in spite of herself, she'd occasionally watch with me in bed.
Only this time I brought home an interracial video. It was one of a young, blonde bride gangbanged by a group of extremely, well hung blacks. I thought she might throw a fit. I'd never brought home anything like this before, but—it was now or never.
I played the first videos we lay in bed together. As usual, she either made condescending remarks or analyzed its attraction for me, clinically. But then I put on the interracial. I put the lights off. Lori was clearly shocked into silence. Partly the violence of it, maybe. But, without doubt, the black-on-white nature of it, and the size of the black men, stunned her into silence.
As she watched it, I began to cuddle with her from behind. I spooned up to her, hard as a rock, and felt down to her little clit. She resisted my probing hand at first, but then I maneuvered it between her legs.
I could see why she was initially resisting my hand. She didn't want me to know. She was ashamed that she was wet. Very wet!!!
I played slowly with Lori's clit and she quickly began moaning. I had never heard her moan during sex before. Now she was moaning, and loud. Very loud.
Lori came and spasmed under my massaging fingers. She jerked and writhed for what seemed like minutes. Afterward I mounted her. I took her legs under my arms, I bent her back, pinning her knees to her shoulders, like the black men had the blonde in the film, and then fucked her brutally hard.
