This is a story about consensual sex between a married white wife and a black man. If this type of story is not of interest to you, please visit other categories. There are thousands of great stories in other categories in the Literotica web-site. I'm certain there is one that will appeal to you. As always, thanks for reading and thanks for your comments. BTW... To the "anonymous" shrinks and marriage counselors out there, this is pure fiction. It's not real. It is based solely on thoughts from my twisted mind. It does not represent any real people, living or dead. No people were injured in the telling of this story. NOTE: All the characters in this story are above the age of 18.
My Birthday Present
The house looked like it could be the setting for a horror movie. Sitting at the end of a dark, tree covered lane, it looked like something Freddy Krueger would live in. Two stories high with tall windows and a steep roof, the outside looked somewhat ominous. The huge iron gates closed behind me as I stopped in front of the house. In the headlights of my car I could see tall, manicured hedges lining the front of the house and the path leading from the driveway to the front door. I double checked to be sure I had the right address but I knew it was.
I turned the car off and, per the instructions, I dropped my keys and cell phone in my purse and left it sitting on the car seat. An overwhelming feeling of vulnerability consumed me as I realized that, by leaving my keys and cell phone in the car, I was surrendering my last vestiges of personal protection. I was now at the complete mercy of whatever awaited me inside this dark, scary house. I stepped out of the car and stood for a moment, gathering myself. I could hear my heart beating in my ears in the eerie stillness. From the outside the house appeared to be dark except for the light over the entrance. Taking one last deep breath, I walked past the tall hedges to the front door. In the unnerving silence, the sound of my 4" heels clicking on the uneven pathway echoed across the yard.
I rang the doorbell the second I reached the entrance; afraid any hesitation would allow me time to turn and leave. I could hear it chime deep in the house. I waited nervously, the night chill I felt on my bare legs adding to the tension I was already feeling. I was reaching to ring the bell again when a voice spoke to me. "The door is unlocked, Maggie. Please come in. When you are inside, please close and lock the door behind you." The voice sounded strong and sure. Hoping again that I was right for coming here, I opened the huge wooden door and stepped inside. Of course, the door creaked loudly as it opened and closed. What else did I need to send my nerves spiraling out of control. Turning, I closed the door and flipped the dead-bolt lock. The sound echoed thru the entryway as the plunger slide into place.
Turning back around, I was surprised to see that the outside appearance did not reflect the style of the interior. The two-story foyer was right out of a Martha Stewart magazine. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, serving as the centerpiece of the entrance. Antique sconces lining the walls provided the only other light. Unsure of what I should do next, I waited.
"Thank you for coming Maggie. Please step into the library." The voice was deep and authoritative coming over the intercom. I wasn't sure where he was or where the library was. I moved uneasily down the hall until I came to double doors on the left. This must be it. There was a huge fireplace covering the far wall. There were large leather couches on either side of the fireplace, facing each other. To the right was a large mahogany desk, with a high-back leather chair in place behind it. The walls behind and on both sides of the desk were covered in shelves of books. "Feel free to warm yourself by the fire." There was that voice again.
My name is Maggie Swanson. My husband, David, said he had a surprise for me for my 35
th
birthday. We have been married for 15 years. We have two elementary age children. I assumed I was here to meet the owner of that deep, alluring voice. I wasn't sure. You see, my husband had set up this visit. He assured me I would enjoy it. We have always enjoyed an open, exciting sex life, exploring many fantasies along the way. Briefly trying the swinging scene, we determined that was not for us. We liked the more intimate, one-on-one or couple-to-couple contact. We had each enjoyed other partners for casual sex occasionally over the years, never loosing site of our devotion to each other.
Up until recently, the experiences had been with the other of us present. However, for David's 40
th
birthday a few months ago I had set him up with a close female friend from work who was willing to spend the night with him in the suite of a local high-end hotel I had reserved for this special occasion. David knew Karen and had commented more than once how hot he thought she was. Needless to say, Karen provided him with a birthday present he will not soon forget. He stumbled home the following afternoon. Passing me as he came into the house, he smiled and gave me a quick hug. He wreaked of sex. "Damn it, Maggie, did you ask her to fuck me or kill me? That woman is relentless. I couldn't make her stop nor could I keep up. I thought I was going to have to send out for reinforcements. I am going to take a shower, lay on our bed and die a happy man. Thank you so much for the wonderful birthday present." I laughed as he disappeared into our bedroom. It seems as if my birthday present was a roaring success.
That voice snapped me back to the present. "Did your husband tell you why you were here?"
Assuming he could hear me, I answered, "That it was my birthday present and that it would fulfill my fantasy."
"I see. And what is that fantasy, Maggie?"
In a voice barely above a whisper I replied, "To be with a black man."
The quite laugh coming thru the speakers caused a chill thru me. "To BE with a black man? Is that all Maggie? You just want to BE with a black man?"
I knew what I wanted but was embarrassed to speak so openly to a man I didn't know and had never even seen. Trying once again to be tactful I whispered, "I want to make love with a black man."
The laughter was louder this time, bouncing off the walls of the library as I stood there tense and unsure what was happening. The one thing that I knew for sure was happening is that I could feel my body reacting to his voice and the anticipation of what might be coming. There was no doubt the voice belonged to a black man. My body tingled as I waited, almost certain I hadn't given him the answer he wanted to hear, the one that I knew to be the truth. "Maggie, if you just want to make love, you should go home to your husband. That is not what you are here for is it? Either tell me what you really want or go home to David and tell him to make love to you"
There was no other answer. No other way to dance around the truth. No way to any longer deny the desire that had been burning in me for years. A desire that David and I had frequently used as part of a fantasy during sex, using videos and pillow talk to add to the excitement of our love making. Until I walked in this house and recognized the source of that voice, it had been just that, a fantasy. I now realized that David had turned that desire into a reality. Knowing what he was waiting to hear, I took a deep breath and told him what I really wanted. "I want to be fucked by a big, black cock." A shudder coursed thru me as I exhaled. There, I had said it. And it was true. That is exactly what I wanted.
"Now see, that wasn't so hard was it?" I jumped at the sound of his voice. It was no longer coming thru the intercom. It came from the doorway as I stood facing the fire. I started to turn to see the source of the deep velvet voice but he stopped me. "NO, don't turn around. Just stand there and enjoy the warmth." The firmness of his voice told me that turning around would change the mood and that is the last thing I wanted. I could already feel the warmth in my body match the warmth from the fireplace. I stood frozen in place, my eyes watching the fire dance around the logs. I could hear the tinkle of ice against glass and the splash of some liquid being added.
The next thing I felt was his breath on the back of my neck. Startled, my body reacted. Expecting to be handed a glass, I tensed when I felt hands gently laid on my shoulders. The breath on my neck lingered. I could smell him. A strong, manly scent, a combination of cleanliness and cologne. "Did you dress as I had requested?" His hands moved softly across the leather of the floor-length coat. It was what was underneath the coat that was important. I had followed the instructions he had shared with David. I was to wear it and nothing else.
"Yes." As I answered, his right hand moved off my shoulder and a big black hand passed one of the drinks around to me. I took it and sipped. I went down warm.
"You are beautiful, Maggie. I am looking forward to enjoying your body. Are you excited?"
"Thank you and, Yes," I breathed. "I am excited and nervous."
"Relax Maggie. There is no reason to be nervous. We are here for our mutual pleasure. I have no intentions of hurting you or doing anything you ask me not to." If I didn't know better, I would think it was Barry White standing behind me. His was that kind of deep, sensual voice. Despite my uncertainty, he had a calming effect on me.
"Please enjoy the drink. It will help you relax." He was right. I slowly sipped, still facing the fireplace. His sense of dominance filled the room. An unspoken air of authority and control. Not arrogance, just silent confidence. I had been in his presence less than 5 minutes and already knew that I would do whatever he asked without question
I saw that a large black hand reaching for my glass. It was almost empty by now. I had been silently sipping as we talked. I put the glass in his hand and it disappeared around my body. "Take off your coat, Maggie." I no longer needed the heat from the fire. I was creating my own heat as my body continued to respond. I unbuttoned the floor-length leather coat and let it slide from my shoulders. He caught it as it came off. I was now standing in a strange house, in front of a strange man I didn't know and could not see, wearing only my spike heels and the outfit this mystery man had ask my husband to buy for me. Damn you David, I thought briefly, what have you gotten me into?
It was a white lace babydoll. The top was a halter that tied behind my neck with a plunging neck line to my waist that barely covered my 36C breasts. It tied at the waist with a short skirt of the same lace that hung just to the bottom of my ass cheeks. The outfit had come with a matching pair of white lace panties. They were currently laying on my dresser at home. I was instructed to leave them off. "It fits you well, Maggie. Your body looks exquisite. Your blonde hair looks and smells delicious. I hope the rest of your body tastes as delicious as you smell. I somehow believe it does. Do you want me to taste your body, Maggie?"
He knew I did. I knew I did. I could only nod, too excited to speak for fear that my voice would wake me from this erotic dream. I was certain that was what this was. A dream. There is no way in the world of the awake that this could be happening. For years I had longed for the touch of a black man. Desiring to be taken by a big black cock and ravaged the way I dreamed it could happen. David understood that desire and helped me experience it in our make-believe world of interracial sex. He had even given me a big black dildo and encouraged me to use it, with him or alone. God, I loved that man. I wished briefly that he could be here to live out my fantasy with me.
This mystery man must have read my thoughts. "Your husband loves you deeply, doesn't he? Otherwise, he would not have sent you here to me."
