"Nice knickers," Errol whispered as he stood in the frame of the kitchen door.
"What did you say?" I retorted without taking my eyes off the TV.
"I like your knickers…you suit black…very sexy." He grinned then took a long drag on his cigarette.
I nervously ran my hand along the back of my jeans until I touched an inch or two of my lacy thong. Immediately I moved off my stool and hitched my jeans up.
"Mac will kill you if he knew you'd said that," I hissed.
"No...I don't think so. Mac?" He looked at my husband who was sitting in the other room, "He couldn't take me," the young black lad grinned confidently as he threw his cigarette end nonchalantly onto the lawn.
His eyes never left mine as he strolled past me and re-joined my husband and five other friends that were watching football and drinking beer in my lounge.
My husband, 'Mac', was the Captain of an English Division One football club. He'd made his reputation as a 'hard man' in Scotland some years ago; and had moved to England for three million pounds two years previously; just as his current team got relegated from the Premiership. We had a fantastic house and to all extents and purposes lived a millionaire's lifestyle, but I was bored witless.
We had first met 8 years ago and after a whirlwind romance we got married. One Scottish newspaper dubbed us 'Beauty and the Beast' on our Wedding Day. I had always been regarded as 'cute' rather than 'pretty'. I have Strawberry Blonde hair (light ginger!), a round face with freckles and a tiny 'turned up nose'. Just like my mum I'm naturally slim with a 32b-22-34 figure. Before meeting Mac I'd never had any shortage of boyfriends; but the moment I first saw him I fell in love. Now…he was a just a drunken bore who revelled in his 'hardman' image.
I continued drinking wine and watching my soap operas in the kitchen as the guys got drunker, louder and coarser as they watched a rival team getting beat on our huge TV.
After a few minutes my gaze drifted into the living room where Errol was sitting slightly behind the eye-line of the others.
He winked when I noticed him, making me blush.
This went on for the next hour or so; each time our eyes met he would wink or pull a funny face making me smile. Then he began licking his lips lasciviously and slowly stroking his crotch.
I didn't know what to think or how to react but I couldn't stop looking at him.
Mac and I are both 31 and are from Northern Scotland. Errol was 22 and a flash, black Londoner who played in the Premier League. Apparently he'd had a bad injury the previous season and had been 'loaned' to Mac's team for three months as part of his return to fitness.
I'd seen him after a couple of games but this was the first time that he had visited our house for Mac's weekly gathering. As Club Captain my husband took it upon himself to organise the player's social events; which meant 'getting pissed out of their minds' twice a week. Once would be straight after a match when they would go out into the local town 'wining, dining and 69ing'. The other would be at our house where he could be 'Lord of the Manor', showing off his big house, huge TV, massive stereo system, awesome games console or purpose built snooker room. (Do you think that he was over compensating for something?)
As usual the night ended with Mac getting so drunk he fell asleep on the sofa before the guys' taxis arrived.
"Do you need a hand with him…or anything?" Errol asked as the others shuffled out into the cold night.
"No thanks," I smiled, "I'll manage by myself…thanks."
"I bet you will!" he chuckled as he ran his hand along my thigh, making my heart miss a beat and my stomach turn over.
For the next few days I couldn't stop smiling as I re-lived the attention that Errol had paid me.
On the Saturday night immediately after the game I was waiting in the Players Lounge like a nervous teenager; when the lads crashed through the door. They were in high spirits because they had won 4-0 with Errol scoring twice and Mac being very lucky not to be sent off after thumping an opposition player. History told me that my darling husband wouldn't make any attempt at conversation on a night like this but I would still be obliged to play the part of 'adoring wife'; a role that I was very good at.
After making small talk with a couple of friends Errol finally caught my eye and motioned me towards a quiet corner.
I surreptitiously made my way to where he was standing. As I congratulated him on his performance he secretly slipped a small package into my hand.
"It's just a little thank-you gift, for the other night." He smiled nervously and quickly moved back into the busy crowd.
I looked down to see a beautifully gift-wrapped parcel tied with a ribbon. Intrigued I made my excuses and went to the ladies room where I opened it. My jaw nearly hit the tiled floor. My gift was an exquisite pink g-string. I recognised the label immediately – they were very expensive. I hid them deep into my handbag and joined my husband who had already arranged to go out with the lads to celebrate.
I slept alone that night - only wearing my new knickers and thinking about Errol.
I wore them again the following Wednesday night when Mac and 8 other players watched the football on TV. After half an hour, Errol joined me in the kitchen for a cigarette.
"So you like them," he laughed as I stretched across the worktop flashing the new G-string to my new admirer as I poured myself a glass of wine. I shrugged my shoulders and pretended not to know what he was talking about.
"I bet that you were thinking about me when you pulled them up your long legs and they covered your pretty pink pussy," his deep Caribbean accent made my body tremble, "didn't you?"
I desperately tried to ignore him but he continued…on and on. His voice getting deeper and deeper as the night wore on and his questioning and comments got more and more personal every time he came in the kitchen for a smoke. I was squirming on my stool as he described how he thought I masturbated thinking about him and his big black cock.
At one stage in the night; I was becoming so turned on I nearly orgasmed on the spot when Errol asked me if I'd ever seen a black cock. I could only stare at the portable TV and shake my head.
"Do you want to see mine?" He whispered as he walked back into the lounge. I looked longingly into his big brown eyes but didn't move a muscle. I daren't.
The phone rang the following afternoon; "Hi babe; just checking that you were at home." My knees buckled as I recognised Errol's voice.
"Mac's not in…he's gone to London." I mumbled.
"I know," Errol purred like a lion, "he'll be back tomorrow. Let me in."
I turned to see a tall dark shape filling the glass panel in the front door.
Within a second of him entering my house he had forcefully pulled me towards him and had begun kissing me. It was a long smouldering, sexy kiss. His snake-like tongue filled my mouth, swirling around; touching my own demure tongue, licking the roof of my mouth and tickling my tonsils.
Before I knew what was happening he had me pinned against the wall and had removed my camisole top and bra. His hands and mouth were stroking, sucking, squeezing and licking my heavy breasts and diamond hard nipples as he fumbled with my belt and fly buttons.
"Not here…not here," I mumbled as he pulled my jeans off, leaving me wearing just a tiny white transparent thong.
"Where then?" He gasped for air as he discarded his own jeans; exposing a magnificent bulge in his boxer shorts.
I looked around. Even in my heightened state I knew that I couldn't have sex with another man in my matrimonial bed.
"In here!" I chuckled as I took his shovel-like hand and dragged him into Mac's snooker room.
I swear his package wobbled as we hurried along the corridor.
Once inside Errol lifted me onto the edge of the snooker table and resumed his passionate kisses; only this time I wrapped my legs around him and ground my aching pussy against his swollen baseball bat.
I had a mini-orgasm as our mouths consumed each other and his hands sensually caressed my soft titties, occasionally rolling my pink nipples between his ebony fingers.
"Lie back," he moaned as he broke off our kiss. I still held his hips in a vice like grip with my legs and slowly arched my back until I felt the cold green baize on my skin.
"Jesus!" he kept groaning as his fingers slowly touched every inch of my upper body as if he was blind and reading Braille.
I relaxed my grip with my legs and rested my feet either side of him on the shiny wood of the table…legs wide apart.
Resting on my elbows I stared at his muscle-bound torso and gorgeous grinning black face as his fingers stroked my pubes then my soaking wet pussy through the thin material of my panties making me moan with desire.
