The Community Bull
Part 1
Wherein a plan is hatched and after consensus is reached, begins to unfold in a manner I never anticipated.
I finally spoke to my husband of eight years, Steven from a place of perfect conviction and imperative need. I took a matronly tone, leaving no doubt as to my expectations. It wasn't an ask or first position in some negotiation, but rather a telling of how it was to be going forward.
My biological clock was ticking, and I had decided to give myself to another man exclusively to get pregnant; our incredibly masculine neighbour, Marcus. He would father my children and Steven would raise them and love them as his own without hesitation. Marcus, the handsome black guy who was married, but so in charge of his plump and shy little white wife, was rumoured to have fucked countless other women at will. I would join that long list of distinguished young mothers of biracial children living in the community. Steven, wearing only boxer shorts was kneeling before me in complete submission as I explained the details of my plan, "Do you understand your role in all of this my Darling?"
Steven remained frozen, hanging his head in resignation, and offered no rebuttal. His swelling package betraying his arousal at the thought of my emasculating him so completely. "Yes." he offered, on the verge of tears, without raising his gaze from the floor between us.
I took a couple of measured steps backward, then dropping my panties, lay down on the unmade bed, legs slightly ajar and beckoned him to crawl to me, "You're such a good boy Darling Steven, "I offered in a soothing voice, "come taste your reward and give your Queen her morning pleasure..."
"Lick me" I whispered when he smiled at me rather than protest, "I need to cum thinking of his gorgeous virile body taking mine, impregnating me while you crouch obediently in the corner."
I felt him tease my nipples with his tongue and roughly pushed his head down towards my pussy. "No Steven! Get off the bed and back on your knees. That's a good boy! Just clean me up down there!", I demanded, "Lick it as if it was full of Marcus's baby batter."
Steven slid of the bed between my thighs and licked my ass and pussy in his usual talented if reserved way. He was so dainty, so humble, so meek somehow, like how I would imagine a virginal lesbian would lick a pussy. I felt him wriggle his tongue up and down my slit, and so I slipped my fingers down, spreading my labia.
"Tease my clitty, not the lips" I ordered, a little frustrated, pulling my lips up and back so the soft pink hood cleared the swelling bud of my sex. I needed to cum.
He continued to gently lick and suck, making occasional slurping sounds as he gathered my flooding juices, and it was exquisite. It was so sensual, thinking about my uterus full of Marcus's virile seed and Steven awaiting instruction in the corner on hands and knees. I pictured Marcus standing naked before me his glistening cock erect and dripping from our heated coupling.
'I want him to own me, and to rule you- you don't ever look him in the eye. I want him constantly. I want him to breed me- repeatedly and for you to keep me fresh and ready for him at moments notice with your skillful tongue." I gasped and took a deep breath feeling an orgasm rising from deep within. There was only the slightest pause in the silky-smooth licks below. It was half a breath and no more, then Steven licked again, more deeply now, as a flush of warmth washed over me in the realization, he would not get in the whatever plan to seduce Marcus I would hatch.
"You will beg him to take me, to own me." I continued rambling. By now I was almost delirious. I was soaring softly away to larger, darker, stronger arms.
"Susan.", Steven whispered. He paused to say, "But Susan, she is our friend too. How will she feel?". Steven wasn't exactly resisting, but rather being a co-conspirator.
"If Marcus says its okay, you can lick her pussy too. I know that she's kind of fat, but you do everything he asks, understood?", I insisted, an unmistakable edge in my rasping voice, "I get the feeling that he'll be very hard on you, if you don't."
"Yes Ma'am", said Steven, before pressing his tongue into my vagina while sucking my clitoral hood. My orgasm soon peaked violently. I nearly ripped his poor head off with my spasming thighs!
I had wanted Marcus for more than a year now, since first learning of his status as the Community Bull, and that he'd sired numerous children in the village. I had finally steeled my resolve. Now that Steven understood his role in the years to come, it was time to move forward with confidence. I was going to use Marcus's until I had three, maybe even four of his children. Steven had a good income, and we could easily afford to raise them. He would do that for me without complaint, there was no doubt, despite what some narrow-minded work colleagues or local neighbours might think. My cuckold was completely devoted to me and obedient without reservation. I was very fortunate to have found him, or rather, so I thought, we were very lucky to have found each other.
I was certain seducing Marcus was going to be easy, given his reputation as the village Cocksman. What I needed was consent from his plump and mousy little wife, Susan. She could easily derail my plans and as we are neighbours, things could get messy. Not that she hadn't allowed him to stray before, if only implicitly, and on more than a few occasions given the obvious presence of Marcus's numerous biracial children in what had been until his arrival, an exclusively white upper middle class bedroom community.
About a year ago, after hearing rumours about the many young white mothers with black babies in the village sharing a common Bull, I became curious as to just how many children there were. I started keeping an informal tally as I wandered through the village on errands and figured on perhaps as many as sixteen children, by four, maybe five women. I counted at least nine boys and five girls, ranging in age from several months to seven or eight years in age. There could be several more in another part of the village. Without exception they were all beautiful and healthy children: boisterous, energetic, friendly, clever little ones that enjoyed getting together at the playground.
The young mothers, all seemed well to do, Anglo-Saxon beauties in their mid twenties that seemed to enjoy a kind of sisterhood, meeting daily at the children's play structure at the village common. Out of shear curiosity one afternoon I boldly decided to approach one young mother in particular as she rocked and tickled a little bundle of joy on her lap, about the father.
"Hello" I offered smiling as I sat down on the park bench beside her. "Is this one of Marcus's little girls?" I looked at the little one as she fixed a steady gaze upon me with an infectious little smile. She had large dark brown eyes and the most gorgeous auburn loosely curled hair with a lovely golden-cinnamon complexion. "I'm Julie by the way. I'm his neighbour." I said to mum.
"Oh yes of course! I thought you seemed familiar. I'm Sandra and this little darling," she said raising the giggling youngster above her head, "is Emma."
We chatted briefly about the baby and other small talk as I tried to steer the conversation to Marcus and how they'd got together, but her husband arrived shortly after, and was introduced as Malcom. He was a typical local man. White, professional, probably from a monied family working either in business or local government. He was basically very similar in overall appearance and station as my own husband. The answers to my questions would have to wait another day as I could hardly ask them questions about their cuckolding relationship and decision to have another man's babies although my curiosity was now genuinely piqued. The chance to talk to one of Marcus's baby-mommas never presented itself again until after plans had already started in motion.
Any way getting back to the need for Susan's consent. Maybe it didn't matter what she thought. Marcus appeared to be in charge and may be just the type to wander at his pleasure rather than be a loyal and considerate husband. I was inclined more to the latter than the former. Marcus was by all accounts a doting and loving husband to Susan in his own way. Outwardly by all accounts, they had appeared as a happily married couple for nearly a decade now. She obviously adored the man. You could tell by the cow eyes she constantly gave him, even when he flirted with me. It was an unconventional arrangement they had for sure, but no less so than what I had with my cuckold husband. In any case I need patent approval from Susan if this was to work. The alternative was too high a risk to seriously consider. There was a way, the testimony of his growing village family proved it.
However my plan would develop, it had to start with the four of us getting closer and that meant spending more time together. I sent Steven over when he got home from work to ask Marcus and Susan personally to join us at the local pub for a couple of drinks after dinner. He returned with news that they'd be delighted. Perfect
Later, at the pub I decided to come on to our neighbour and send clear signals of interest. Maybe it was the cider that made the decision and I know that sounds cheap, slutty even, but if you saw Marcus, you would understand that he is so entirely comfortable with women throwing themselves at him. And he is truly gorgeous. His rich dark black skin is shiny smooth; his torso is finely chiselled with powerful muscle. He has the deepest, most testosterone-soaked baritone voice that can instantly soak your panties. His quiet confidence and sexy charm scream at you that he knows how to handle women.
Steven sat in the corner of the booth and after a couple of drinks Susan and I went or a pee and upon our return, I slipped in beside Marcus, placing my hand squarely upon his knee offering a clear signal that I was open to him. Susan had to know what was going on by my flushed expression but seemed unperturbed. Steven sat quietly throughout the evening offering the occasional grunt of acknowledgement in conversation.
