Some comments on my past stories suggest that there should have been some warning about the theme. This is an erotic story involving interracial play and married women straying from their husband. If the idea of a black man fucking a married white woman bothers you, you should move on to another story.
As an Introduction, I'm Devon, a 32 year-old black man now living in Chicago, the city where I was born and raised. I work for a mid-sized investment bank and travel a fair amount. I'm 6' 4" and a good athlete, all city in high school basketball and all state in football. I received a scholarship to play college football on the west coast, where I was an all conference tight end freshman year, but a severe off the field injury curtailed my career. So I hit the books got a degree in economics, and then an MBA, and I now have a pretty good life.
My weakness, or at least my kink, is married women. Specifically, white married women. No use psychoanalyzing the motives, but there are aspects, which I will over time describe, that just make married white women much more of a sexual turn on than more "normal" relationships. My other kink is I'm a dominant man -- not that I enjoy inflicting pain or wearing weird attire, but I know what I enjoy and clearly communicate my desires and expectations. Typically, my playmates are older than me, but not always. Sometimes I meet them on line (which I prefer) before we meet in person, but sometimes the original meeting is in person. Most of these experiences have been during the past five years, although there are some exceptions. I'm not telling these experiences in chronological order -- just the order of what's in my head when I'm writing.
To get more background on Tammy, you can read the Tammy -- Chapter 1 story.
About an hour after Tammy left, she texted me.
She said, "I got home alright."
"Thank you for coming, and cumming."
"I really enjoyed the night."
"I did too. I'll be traveling next week, but I'm looking forward to seeing you again."
The upcoming weekend was typical for me. I play in a basketball league every Saturday morning, I worked out a bit after, and spent a lot of time with my parents and four siblings (I'm the second oldest). I texted with Tammy a bit, and we started to make plans for our next meeting, which we decided would be a week from the next Monday.
She asked, "Is everything still good about our last meeting?"
"It was great. In fact, better than great."
I could tell she needed reassurance. She pressed the issue,
She said, "I felt so out of practice. It's been almost 20 years since I've been with a man other than my husband. Part of the reason I was hesitant was because I was worried you'd be disappointed."
"Did I seem disappointed?"
"No. Not at all."
"So there's your answer. You were perfect. But of course, every relationship can get better over time. We'll both learn more."
"How can I get better?"
"Not sure that's possible."
"There has to be something."
"I seldom watch porn, but you could watch a few scenes and get some ideas."
"Do you have any specific recommendations."
"Like I said, I don't watch a lot of stuff, but you can search for scenes with 'BBC' combined with words such as 'MILF,' 'married,' and 'cuckold.'"
"What does cuckold mean? I've never heard that term before."
I explained. I liked her naivete. In between chatting, I did check out her on line profile. There were a lot of photos, but she was always conservatively dressed. In some photos you could tell she had a sexy curvy body, but she typically wore loose clothing and never showed much cleavage.
On Sunday night I left on my work trip to the west coast -- Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco. I typically only travel for three days at a time, but I had some key meetings and would be gone until Friday. On Monday Tammy and I texted a lot. I suggested she call -- texting took a long time. She said she would go to the store and call me in a few minutes.
She asked about my weekend. When I told her about my regular basketball game, she seemed interested.
She asked, "Are you good?"
"I think so. I'm still in good shape."
"That I know."
"I was all city in high school. I got some scholarship offers for college, but I was better in football."
"My husband played high school basketball in the suburbs. He has several awards and trophies."
"That's good."
Meanwhile, I was thinking "lame ass suburban basketball." I changed the subject.
I asked, "How's your research going?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your porn research."
She laughed. "Oh, that. I've found it ... enlightening."
"Tell me your thoughts."
"I'm surprised how much focus there is on married women and black men."
"It mirrors real life."
"Oh?"
"Yep. Many married women have an attraction to black men. I know you think I'm aggressive, but you'd be surprised by how up front some women can be."
"When they're away from their husbands, of course."
"Not always. Some are encouraged by their husbands."
"Have you had many experiences?"
"I've met a few women who were in some type of open marriage."
"Has the husband ever been present?"
"A couple of times. Just watching, not participating. I'm not bi"
"I didn't think so."
"It can be a powerful experience for all three people."
"I'm sure my husband would never be up for that."
"It's not for everyone. Speaking of husbands, won't yours' be wondering where you are?"
"You're right. I better get back. I lose track of time talking to you."
The next few days were really busy -- either business dinners or evening flights, and with the time difference we didn't have time to chat. I flew home on Friday, and began my typical weekend routine. While I was visiting my parents on Saturday, I got a message from Tammy asking if I could talk. I stepped out to take her call.
She said, "I'm getting cold feet about Monday."
"I can arrange for a footwarmer."
"I'm serious. My husband keeps asking me if there's anything wrong. I realize that even though I didn't see you all week, I'm constantly thinking about you, and I'm not focused on my day-to-day life. I enjoyed our evening together, but thoughts of you are causing too much distraction."
"Maybe you should do less thinking, and just be doing. You should just do what you want."
"I'm not wired that way."
