I'm writing this account to share with readers what happened when I finally gave in to my husband's constant pleading for me to have sex with another man. My husband has fantasized about me being with a black man for years now. I resisted for years, telling him truthfully that my body was only for him, and that I didn't want to share myself. Still, he continued to badger me over the subject. He constantly wanted to role play using a black dildo that we purchased. I would play along. Sometimes enjoying it, other times just playing along. At some point I had fleeting moments of curiosity. Years of role playing, the content of his internet browsing history, and the recent craze of interracial dating occasionally peaked my curiosity. But it never went further than just fleeting curiosity.
My husband is an officer in the Air Force, I work full time as a nurse at a hospital, and am also in the air national guard. Every month I travel to Portland to do weekend drill where I stay with a close friend of mine named Steph. Steph is definitely a party girl. Steph has been single almost the entire time I've known her. Over the past few months however, Steph started dating a guy that seemed to break her of her partying and her perpetual single-girl phase. The guy she has been dating happens to be black. At first I didn't think much of it. But, as Steph got more serious, and, truthfully as the girl talk got more detailed, I began to realize that she was getting serious because she was getting fucked better than she ever had before. She painted a picture that can only be described as fulfilling that old legend. you know, "once you go black, you never go back." yeah its cliché, but that's how Steph was talking.
Over the next few months nothing really changed much. Home life was fine. When I stayed with Steph we would still get to hang out and have fun, though her new boyfriend Trev did tend to get more time alone with her than I would have liked.
Five months ago my husband got deployed out of country for 6 months. The first few months were hard, but we got along fine. As the third month came around I went down to Portland for my monthly drill and on Friday night ended up going out dancing with Steph. We met Trev and another couple along with one of Trev's friends, a tall, muscular black man named Jeron.
I felt a little awkward initially. For a while Steph and I sat and talked, but eventually she got up to go dance with Trev. That left me sitting alone with Jeron. We made some small talk for a few minutes. He was a funny guy, and very good looking. He tried to get me out on the dance floor but I initially declined. After a few drinks I started to feel a little more at ease, and even a little flirtatious. Conversation was flowing well. Jeron asked me to dance a second time. Before I could respond Steph kicked me under the table and gave me a wide-eyed look. "Get your ass out on the dance floor." is what that look meant. I was a little hesitant, but I eventually said yes.
I wound up having a good time. Danced a half dozen songs, and was beginning to get a little sweaty. I was ready to take a break when one of my favorite hip-hop songs came on. As the song went on I began to lose myself a little. Before I knew it I was grinding my hips against his. This led him to assuming it was ok to put his hand on my ass. That's not what I was looking for but I let it pass.
After the song ended I told Jeron I was ready to take a break, and we headed back to the table. When we got back Steph and Trev were ready to take the party back to her place. Steph invited us all back over to her place to continue drinking. Steph was the DD, so the 6 of us piled in her Durango and went back to her place. I ended up in the very back seat with Jeron. The back seat of the Durango is very cozy. Jeron had his arm around me, because he really didn't have any place else to put it. It was at this point that I started to finally think that maybe this was a little inappropriate, but there was really nothing I could do about it. The good angel on my shoulder was telling me to be a good girl, but then Jeron started being funny again, and the good angel disappeared as we became engrossed in conversation and laughter.
Back at Steph's we all started drinking again. I wasn't drunk but I had a pretty good buzz. With two couples already established, it was pretty much a given that Jeron and I were left talking to each other and sitting by each other. The night went on fairly innocently for much of the night. The mood changed though while Jeron and I were out on the balcony having a smoke. Jeron looked me in the eyes and told me how beautiful I was. I know I blushed. I didn't know what to say. I told him he was crazy, then I told him he was not bad on the eyes either. I immediately realized that if I was trying to be good, I shouldn't have said that.
Back inside the night was starting to wind down. No one was in the condition to drive. Steph had Saturday off and I had a late show, so I could actually sleep in. The other couple, Jasmine and Darnell retired in Steph's second spare bedroom. Since I am such a regular guest I have my own bedroom at Steph's. That left the couch for Jeron. Everyone was now in their respective rooms. I told Jeron good night and went up to my room. Once in bed I turned on the TV and prepared to fall asleep. At some point I got thirsty and went down to get water. Jeron was lying on the couch watching TV, obviously uncomfortably. I went over to him and told him he was too big for her small couch. If I had just left well enough alone and went back upstairs none of the next events would have happened. After a few minutes of talking, he got me laughing again, and he laid a very charming sob story about the couch on me. I gave in. "If you promise to be good I'll share the bed upstairs with you." he promised
We went up to the room and as is natural habit I closed the door after me. Jeron gave me shit about it.
"How are you going to tell me to be good when you're trying to lock me in here with you?"
I laughed. "It's habit." I told him.
So I lie down in bed, scooting under the covers, but I'm immediately too hot. I normally sleep either in the nude or with just panties on, but that was out of the question. I pushed the covers off me.
"Make up your mind girl." Jeron says.
"it's too hot under the covers." I tell him. That was a mistake.
"Don't mind me, if you need to get undressed to get under the covers I don't mind." Jeron teased.
"Yeah, i'm sure. i'll be fine on top." I reply.
"I usually like to be on top" Jeron says, "but you can start on top if you want."
I blushed like crazy and but kept my mouth shut.
Jeron looked at me, "I hope you don't mind, but I can't sleep fully clothed."
I raise my shoulders at him. "whatever, I don't mind." I tell him.
He pulled his shirt off. It was impossible not to stare. He was very muscular, with tattoos on his chest and stomach. Then he pulled his pants off. He was wearing boxer briefs. They were tight fitting, and the bulge in them was substantial. There is no way to keep your mind from wandering to what is beneath when you see something like that. I am sure I blushed. I turned my head away, looking at the TV, but not thinking of anything else but that massive bulge in his underwear.
I was rolled over on my side with Jeron lying on his back, one of his hips pressed gently against my ass. I noticed it, but didn't move. "You need to keep that thing away from me." Jeron says.
"What thing?" I ask him.
"That ass." he says.
"you're the one that is touching me." I said to him.
"I can't help it, it's just sticking out there like, blam." He says.
"I know it's big, you don't have to point that out." I say to him, kind of teasing him but knowing full well that it was a nice ass that a black man would appreciate.
