WARNING: This is an interracial cuckolding story, with plenty of humiliation and ultimately perhaps gay cuckold behavior. If these themes make you squeamish in any way, then PLEASE do not read my story. Just skip it. For folks who enjoy interracial cuckolding with humiliation and perhaps gay cuckold behavior, I hope you do enjoy it. Let me know! Negative comments will be deleted.
WARNING TWO: Did you read the warning? Read the f*cking warning! Thank you!
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I could have written this as the next (fifth) installment of "My Wife Starts Dating Black," but I thought you all would appreciate a free standing story. If you want more detail on the back story, feel free to read the four chapters of "My Wife Starts Dating Black"-- but you don't have to. I'll start with plenty of background for those who haven't read the prequels and don't care to.
My name is Jeff--and I'm far from the star of this story. I'm a more-or-less ordinary professional white guy, with many good qualities. Perhaps my main shortcoming is literally just that--a shortcoming. I have a thin little five-inch white twig of a dicklet, whereas my sexy blonde little wife, Emily, has been missing and craving the massive black cocks that she fucked a decade ago, roughly, throughout sophomore year of college.
I'll remind you also that Emily is a really adorable woman. Super cute. And I like cute. 5'6". Dirty blonde hair and blue-gray eyes. Pretty features. Very young looking even at thirty. Thin, but with a lovely flair to her hips, a cute ass, and generous c-cup breasts. I think her measurements are something like 32-25-35. Sexy. She didn't flaunt it, but if you knew Emily well, you figured it out.
Lucky for Emily--and me--I was turned on to the idea of her fucking black again, and she had just started to date Malcolm--a gorgeous, kind, thoughtful, black athlete stud, with a huge BBC. Emily had met Malcolm through her good friend, Ciara, having convinced Ciara to make the introduction when she heard about how Malcolm was a lonely widower who had just moved to our city.
It wasn't hard for Emily to secure my permission to pursue Malcolm, given my longstanding fantasy of seeing her go black again.
There had been some bumps in the road. For example, Malcolm dented Emily's trust in him by asking a "handjob honey" that he had sent to keep me company to fuck me instead of just beat me off... But that got sorted out-- because I had turned down the fuck, and then Malcolm promised he would never deceive Emily again, and she chose to believe him.
Emily also took huge comfort from the fact that I declined anything other than the handjob from the young woman, Megan, that Malcolm had sent to entertain me.
Now, I sat alone at home late at night--with Emily just having rushed out to go back to Malcolm to at last fuck him.
Yes, at last, after much discussion, a couple of dates, and plenty of foreplay, Emily was going to get black fucked again, after a ten-year hiatus.
And when Malcolm took her, it also meant that--at least for the duration of their dating--my wife was to be his alone, with me going completely pussy-, blowjob-, and handjob-free. I wasn't even to receive anything more than chaste kisses from my adorable Emily while she was going to be Malcolm's girlfriend. It was how he required it. But it also suited my wife's monogamous nature. She preferred them to be monogamous as well. And I accepted it as natural.
So I was home trying to distract myself and find some path to going to sleep. Luckily for me, it was very, very late, and I was quite tired. And Emily had done me the "solid" of providing me a fabulous and gratifying "talk job" just before she left: She talked dirty to me while I beat off, resulting in perhaps the best orgasm ever yet in my whole life.
I suppose it was a little pathetic to have my best orgasm ever from beating off while my wife merely talked with me--but if you think about the situation I'd allowed myself to get into, with my wife becoming a black man's monogamous girlfriend, I'm hoping you will instead be happy for me.
I'm not kidding about this, by the way. It's an absolute fact. I had my very best orgasm ever from beating off while my wife regaled me with how excited she was to get blacked by her new boyfriend!
I was revved up still, even though that had been my second orgasm of the night (the first was at the hands of Megan), and I beat off one more time before finally going to bed.
I slept just six fitful hours.
I tossed and turned as I visualized my dear Emily getting fucked to the nines. I visualized her screaming in pleasure from Malcolm's eleven-inch cock--more than twice my little dick's length, never mind volume. I visualized Malcolm's massive cock plunging in and out of Emily repeatedly, again and again, over and over, as their hands roamed all over one another and their tongues plunged in and out of each other's mouths as well.
I woke up to the loud noise that I had set my phone to emit for texts from my ever-so-beloved wife. "BEEP-BEEP!"
I floundered for my reading glasses for a moment and then read Emily's succinct message: "Having a great time. See you in a couple of days. Thanks for understanding. Love you!"
Holy fuck. Emily had decided to take it to another level.
I was flooded with emotions. Anxiety. Fear. Stress. And--I remarked--arousal.
That's right. My little dick got hard!
"Wow! That's really lucky!" I thought to myself. "Thank god! Thank god I'm incredibly turned on to my wife being blacked! Otherwise this would really suck!"
Truer thoughts had never been had by a fellow, eh? Can you imagine? Can you imagine the disaster for me if I were NOT incredibly turned on by my wife so enthusiastically cucking me with her new black adonis boyfriend?!?
No. It's almost inconceivable how bad it could have been!
As I was processing these thoughts, another "BEEP-BEEP!"
This time my phone read, "Getting so well-fucked by the way! Thank you so much!! Malcolm is an UNBELIEVABLE, incredible lover, Boo! Easily my best ever! I may never be able stop fucking him!"
I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to text back, "Oh, good! I'm so happy for you! I love you!" After all, I knew this could happen. I half expected it would.
Another part of me--a smaller part--was pissed off. But I thought that this smaller part would likely learn to live with things. It seemed to be a remarkably quiet inner voice, for sure.
It took all the self control I could muster to refrain from replying to my wife's texts. However, I knew I was a better husband if I left my dear Emily untroubled by any reply from me, and I was determined to help her enjoy her first time getting fucked by Malcolm as much as I possibly could.
So instead of messaging my sexy wife back, I busied myself about the house and distracted myself with fix-it projects.
Many hours later, in the early evening, "BEEP-BEEP!" again. This time my phone read. "Hey, Man. This is Malcolm. Thanks for lending me your Emily. She's so fine! What a woman! You're a lucky guy! Man, does she love my black pole! I'm going to send you how she sounds cumming on it... you gotta hear this! Keep in mind that this is just a tiny sample. She's loving it like this all the time, my man!"
Next, came the promised audio file. Of course I played it immediately. It began with Emily howling her little lungs out as she reveled in getting fucked by Malcolm. This is but the first highlight: "Oooohhh!! Fuck!! Again?? Oh, my God!! You're fucking me again??! Oh, fuck!! I love it!! Yesss!! Fuck me again!! Pleeeease!! Yes!! Fuck me again, Malcolm!! Yessss!! Yessss!! Fuck me, you god!! FUCK ME!! You're such a fucking God!! Fuck--fucking has NEVER been like this!! You fuck amaaaazing!! Awwww, fuckkkk!! Yesss!!! You're stretching me!! Aw fuck, you're stretching my fucking pussy!! Yesss!! Keep stretching me with your amazing fucking cock!! ..."
Then Emily moaned more quietly for a stretch. Maybe Malcolm was pounding her more slowly during this part? She moaned like this: "Fuuuh... Ooooh... Fuhhh... Oh, my... Fuhhh.... So fucking good... unhhh... unhhh... this feels AMAZING!"