It’s got to be the not knowing that’s killing me. I let my wife go out on a date tonight. That by itself is a first, but this date . . . . Now I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs having already exhausted my dick. She said she would tell me everything, but my imagination has already overwhelmed me.
This evening we met for an early dinner after work. We went through the usual small talk, but she seemed nervous, so I asked her to spill it. What was bothering her?
“Remember how we talked about seeing other people?” she asked. Immediately I knew what she meant. For years it had been my fantasy to see her seduced by another man while I watched. She would listen and admit that the idea aroused her, but never expressed any interest in actually doing it. Once, when I pressed her, she said she would think about it, and if she ever met the right man, she would remember that she could ask me. But that was years ago. Now her gaze dropped to the table as she fidgeted with her food. I could feel my pants get tight as my dick filled with blood. “Well, I think I’d like to do that now.” She looked up at me, trying to read my expression.
Recovering from my immediate shock, I had to adjust my dick, which had become uncomfortably stiff in its current place. “Well, tell me a little more about it.” I replied dryly. “I mean, who? When? What do you mean ‘date’?” It had always been clear, or so I thought, that this meant a sex date, and I was supposed to be involved, somehow.
“First, I have to know if its OK to go on with this. I mean, I never really believed you wanted me to do this,” she said.
I was surprised at how excited I was. I didn’t think she had ever seriously considered this before, but now I had to deal with the real prospect of her going out with and fucking another man. Questions assailed my mind. But I knew I could only get them answered one at a time. I temporized with myself; I had not said yes yet. “No, no, Honey. I guess I meant what I said. Anyway, I’m fascinated. And horny. You have to tell me more. You have to tell me everything,” I added with a leer. She knew what I meant, I wanted details, no matter what happened.
She took a deep breath. “OK, I’ve met a man at work. He’s with the Baltimore group, so he isn’t in town very often. He’s asked me out a dozen times, but I’ve always said no. But its been bothering me. The last couple of times I’ve wanted to say yes.” Now she was talking fast. She was still pretty unsure about bringing this to me, I guess.
“So what changed your mind?” I prodded.
“He’s gorgeous. Tall, muscled, polite, clean. The project is almost over for his group and I don’t have to worry about him popping up again, and neither do you. Besides, I don’t think he’s interested in anything more either.”
“Then what you really want is just to sleep with him,” I stated, just to be sure. I never thought she wanted a relationship or anything, but I thought I should put it on the table. I also wanted to make sure that this was all she wanted. My fantasy always ended in hot sex for her, and this was what excited me most, of course, but I was not comfortable with keeping him around afterwards.
She looked up and held my gaze a moment, “Yes, just that,” she said.
My cock was rock hard now and I forgot about not encouraging her. “OK, I want more,” I said. “I want to know all about him, what you plan to do with him, and then afterwards I want to know everything you did with him.” My enthusiasm seemed to please her, or maybe she was just relieved.
“What decided me, I guess, was when I talked to Rose about him.” I knew Rose as her wild workmate. Rose was young and attractive, talked about everything she did, and she did a lot. She had kissed and told many times and her exploits were legendary at Amy’s office. “Rose slept with him once last spring, and her report was something to hear. He’s married, but obviously strays. She says his cock is the biggest she’s ever seen, and you know she’s seen a lot. He gave her three hours one night, and then again in the morning. She said she had to stop him! Wearing Rose out, imagine! Anyway, she also says he has ‘the touch’ as she calls it. He takes his time and knows how to treat a woman in bed. Like I said, he’s about 6’1, lean with nice muscles. He’s an engineer.”
She smiled as she described him, but didn’t look me in the eye. “Wore Rose out huh?” I asked. “So tell me about his cock. I know Rose likes to talk about that more than anything.”
Now she did look me in the eye. “Rose exaggerates, but she swears he’s got ten inches and thick as her wrist. She could barely get her mouth around it. What more do you want? I mean, there’s not much more to it. Big is good, but its more in how he uses it. Rose says he’s nice and gentle when you want him to be. And you’re fine, honey, but I’d like to try a really big one, too.”
Something in the way she was looking at me got my attention, there was something I was missing here. Then I remembered something else about Rose. “Honey, Rose is black.” Amy looked away. “Black – black, Honey. Ethnic black. Does she see white guys now, then?” An uncomfortable awareness was growing in my mind.
Even as she said it, it hit me like a sledge hammer, “No, Honey, Rose doesn’t do white guys.” I was bowled over for a second time tonight, this time I felt light headed. The image of her pale white body spread wide under a sweating, laboring black giant forced itself upon me and my whole body tingled. In my image Amy cried out as the giant raised himself above her, only the root of his jet black pole visible above her thin muff as he rutted on her. Just that thick bit bobbing in and out, with so much more jammed up inside of her, massaging her where I had never reached. “He’s black. So? He’s just a man. It took me a little while to get used to the idea, but he’s hot. Honey, are you OK?” she finally asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s go home and I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it on the way. I made the date for later tonight at Tongue in Groove,” she said with a wry look. Again I was shocked. She had made plans and it was about to happen now, too soon for me to digest. And I had to decide now? That wasn’t very fair. We rode home in silence.
At home, Amy showered. I sat on the bed, wrestling with my image and all the rush of emotions. What was she thinking? I watched her emerge from the shower. Amy is a thin woman, about 5’10”. She exercises and has a very well toned body. Her breasts are small Bs, but fit her slim figure perfectly. Her hair is shoulder length and brown, and she has a thin black muff. As I watched her dry and lotion herself, I adjusted my image of her with the black giant. I was incredibly aroused.
She walked over and stood in front of me, towel on hair, naked. “Well, I’ve got to get ready. Can you speak?” She was so beautiful nude, but I was speechless. I just gazed at her curves, lovingly, admiringly. Then she went over to her dresser and began to select her clothes.
