It had been 18 years since Emma and I exchanged our vows. Both of us were barely adults back then, and Emma was already pregnant with our daughter. We were so young, so in love, and so naive about the world that waited for us outside the church. Now, here we were, in our mid-thirties, and I couldn't help but feel as though we'd lived a hundred lives since then. Emma, she changed the most. She grew into this confident, beautiful woman who commands attention whenever she walks into a room, despite her five foot stature. Her blue eyes sparkle like diamonds, and her laughter fills the air with a contagious joy.
On that night, our 18th anniversary, I stood there, gazing down at my lovely wife, beautifully spread out like an offering on our new four-poster bed. Her breathing intensified as her anticipation built, her breasts rising and falling rhythmically. Her milky white skin glistened provocatively against the pure white garter belt and stockings, her legs made endlessly long by those sultry red-bottomed Louboutins. Her wedding lingerie was something to behold; she wore it once a year for our anniversary night, though tonight she was technically only wearing half of it. Each year I had always endeavored to find something fun, something to spice things up. Emma had never complained about our sex life, but I was always keen to find new ways to keep things exciting.
This year involved some restraints with the new four-poster bed frame we had bought a few weeks prior. When we saw it at the furniture store, we looked at each other with the same thought.
Now, I reached over her curvy frame to fasten the restraints around her wrists and ankles. We didn't skimp on the quality, I wanted some legitimate, heavy duty straps that could contain her writhing. As I stood back up, I couldn't help but admire the view of her body, held captive in these elegant restraints. Her modest breasts lifted with every breath, and her freshly shaved pussy looked absolutely divine. I looked at her hungrily, my cock twitching in anticipation. Emma arched her back, her eyes looking over my naked body and as she moaned softly. "What's going on in that horny mind of yours?"
I smiled, reaching for a silk blindfold.
"Oh, you know me too well," I teased, pressing the cool silk against her skin. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how good you look in these, about how you'll feel when I'm inside you tonight..."
I slipped the blindfold up over her eyes, and tied it gently behind her head. She tensed expectantly.
I stood. "I'm going to go get some...supplies," I said devlishly. "Who knows who will come back?"
She giggled. We had done roleplaying before; I had fun doing different accents and voices in the dark, and she loved playing along.
"Well, then," she purred. "I can't wait to meet our guest."
I smiled. "Don't go anywhere."
I stepped out of the room, closing the door. Immediately I felt a strong arm grip my shoulder from behind, and before I could react, a damp cloth was clamped over my face. I smelled pineapple for an instant before everything went dark.
When I came to, I could hear nothing but faint scuffling. My head felt foggy and heavy, as did my limbs. I tried to move, but found that my arms and legs were bound tightly to the chair I was now sitting in. Panic rose in my throat as I struggled against my bonds, but that too was muffled by the gag in my mouth. I looked around, realizing I was in the hallway, almost face-to-face with the bedroom door. A dark arm reached past my head and pushed the door open. My stomach jumped into my throat as the chair I was tied to was lifted and carried into the room. My assailant set me down on the side of the bed, facing Emma, who was still bound and blindfolded.
I recognized the intruder as Tyrone, the young man we had over to fix the splintered deck in the back yard last week. His dark skin glistened in the bedroom light as he looked over to my naked wife.
"Well, well, well," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Look what we have here."
Emma giggled excitedly. "Oh, this is a new one. What's your name, stud?"
"Call me Tyrone, beautiful."
Emma writhed against her bonds, arching her back invitingly. "Oh, I remember you. You did some work for my husband a while back, didn't you?" she purred.
Tyrone grinned. "Yeah, I fixed up the deck. But I'm here for more than just that. You know, your husband isn't the only one who appreciates a fine white woman like you. In fact, you could do with so much more...appreciation."
Emma moaned, arching her back further. "Fuck, honey, this is kind of hot..." she whispered. Then louder she said, "Oh, Tyrone, you have no idea how badly I've been needing this. But...I couldn't possibly cheat on my husband!"
Tyrone chuckled. "Don't worry, white girl. Your husband is sitting right next to the bed, watching."
"Good god, that's kinky," Emma breathed. "I can't believe I'm going to be taken by a black man right in front of my husband!"
I couldn't believe what she was saying. She was fully engaged in what she thought was a roleplay. My heart raced with desperation as I struggled against my restraints.
"Well then," Tyrone smiled. "You know what they say about black men, right?"
Emma giggled. "Oh, I've heard they're...very well endowed..."
"That's right," Tyrone said, his voice low and seductive. "And you, lucky girl, get to experience that firsthand." He reached down and unbuckled his belt, letting it slide through his jeans.
Emma giggled again. "Oh honey, I don't know how you're going to simulate that-"
Tyrone pulled his pants down, and my breath hitched as I beheld the biggest, blackest cock I had ever seen. Even in it's soft state, it was easily twice as big as I was fully erect. Tyrone plopped the monster down on Emma's stomach.
"What do you think?" he said, grinning.
Emma gasped. "Is that a cock sleeve?..."
