This is dedicated to Shooter, the most authentic and believable writer of the few stories I've read on here. Amazingly enough, I have a friend whose nickname is shooter and he is a real-life photographer -- and a great writer. Elements of this story are true and I am supplying clues throughout. My wife's name is Susan.
Chapter 1
It's often hard to believe some of the cuckold stories I've read are actually true, yet there were recent events that made me believe even the most far-fetched account of a husband giving up his horny wife for other men quite plausible.
My wife Susan, a very young-looking 45 and very sexy, has had her share of long stiff cock rammed between her spread legs and swollen cunt lips. She has never failed to milk the sperm from her partners and nine times out of 10, the hot jism is deposited deep within her hot, slick pussy. The other 10 per cent of times it slips down her throat to the content, smacking sound of her lips.
This past spring a local farm market hired eight Black men from Jamaica to help with crops. It was one of those Canadian federal government programs, and when the tall, lean labourers arrived in our small community there was no mistaking who they were. They had only the clothes on their backs, no luggage, and a desire to work.
I had heard of their arrival, and quite frankly gave it little thought except that I praised the local farmer -- a woman -- who was helping them.
Our son was the first to meet them and struck up a bit of a friendship and even visited them several times at the old farmhouse bought especially for their use. I was surprised to learn it was less than a kilometer away from where we lived.
Again I gave it little thought.
One afternoon while I was at work, Susan called me about something and in the course of the conversation said that one of the Jamaicans had shown up at the door with one of our dogs that had somehow gotten off her rope.
"He asked if the dog was ours," Susan explained. "I said it was and thanked him for bringing her back."
He stood on the verandah steps while Susan took our mutt inside.
"When I came back out he was still there. He asked if perhaps he could have a drink of water," Susan said.
It was a hot day and Susan didn't think twice about getting him a drink. When she brought it out he sat on the top step and drank it in slow sips. She asked him his name (William) and told him she was Susan. They talked for about 10 minutes and she thanked him again before he walked back out to the road and headed back towards his new home.
After that, William waved to Susan every time he passed, and a few times stopped to talk. Once he had one of his Jamaican friends with him and he introduced the other fellow as James.
A few weeks passed and our son returned home for a visit. He was with Susan in the yard when William walked by. Susan waved and William did a double take when he saw our son. He walked across the lawn and soon figured out the relationship between his two new friends - mother and son.
Susan, as usual was wearing a short, Indian cotton sundress and of course had absolutely nothing on under it.
The sun was hot so they retired to the verandah and Susan brought out drinks -- beer for William and our son, and a vodka cooler for herself. William stayed for about an hour and had a second beer. Susan had a second cooler. She mentioned that we were thinking of having a barbecue that Saturday afternoon if he was interested. "You could bring James along if you want," she said. "And you don't need to bring any food, we'll have plenty."
Our son decided to take one of the dogs for a walk down by the river, and Susan soon found herself alone with William on the secluded verandah contemplating whether or not she should fetch more drinks or make an excuse to nudge William to head for home.
"So," she said. "I've got to get back to work in the flower gardens. What about Saturday? Think you'll make it?"
William said he thought he could make it, and Susan, a little tipsy (she said) suddenly realized her legs were slightly spread and the way she was sitting she was sure William could see her bare cunt.
"He was trying not to be obvious about looking, but I'm sure he was," Susan said. "It was the funniest thing, as soon as I knew he was looking, I got really wet and my pussy actually started to tingle."
She suddenly made up her mind, stood up, and told William she had to get back to the flowers. She walked as far as the garden she was working on, and William said his goodbyes and went back out to the road.
"See you Saturday?" Susan shouted as he walked down the road. "I put on a good spread."
William waved, grinned, and said he hoped so.
It was a Tuesday when Susan made the barbecue invitation and on Thursday William walked by again, this time on his way back from the store with a few bags of groceries. Susan saw that he was limping a bit and asked him what was wrong with his leg.