It's funny how when there is something that a part of us wants to do while another part doesn't, we sometimes build up walls to guard ourselves against giving in to our weaker side. Such was the case with my wife Sally when it came to my desire to see her with a black man. I had gotten so used to her throwing those walls up that I had quit even consciously thinking about it. But, you know, it's funny how sometimes if you just leave a wall alone, don't do anything to tear it down or to reinforce it, it will start to crumble on its own. That was the case with Sally and the crumbling was so subtle that I think not even she realized it and I certainly didn't recognize it until the wall was almost totally in a shambles.
There were plenty enough signs. Suddenly she started to seem to be frustrated and discontent with herself and with her life in general. Where she had always been active in her church activities, almost to the point where it seemed to be an obsession with her, she suddenly started expressing almost dread at having to go to this or that activity, a lot of times saying she would just like to stay home and rest instead. At the time, I just chalked it up to her actually being tired from her heavy workload. Then again, sometimes she would just say that she sometimes wished she could just chuck it all and quit going like other people she had known. At these times, I made sure to stay indifferent, if not protest that she knew she didn't want to do that. She actually did stop doing some of the things, occasionally skipping a meeting or activity that she would never have missed before. Still that was not any indication to me what was going on in her mind.
Then she was also frustrated with her appearance and she finally seemed determined to do something about it. It was amazing how quickly the pounds came off and how she worked herself into a much more fit condition, especially for her age. I made sure I complimented her as I saw the way she kept looking better and better every week, even joking a couple of times that she might be looking for a boyfriend. She would just laugh and say that maybe she was. I just passed it off as joking. There was no way I was ever going to get my hopes up that there was anything like that in our future.
Let me give you a little background that makes this whole thing even more surprising. My wife is in her mid-fifties and to my knowledge has never been unfaithful to me, even though I, as stated before, have often tried to coax her into opening up and experimenting sexually. She had gotten up to around 200 pounds, which on her five foot six frame was not grossly fat, but much heavier than she would like. With her recent exercise and dieting, she has really become quite attractive, trimming down to an almost svelte 145 and surprisingly still maintaining her 38d breasts that show surprisingly little sag for a lady her age. She had definitely become a much more attractive lady and subsequently our sex life became much improved. Still, we would often use the black fantasy for further stimulus and I still hoped that it would someday become a reality, although I had long since quit mentioning it at all except in a joking manner.
Despite all the physical and mental changes she had undergone in such a short time, I still had no reason to believe that anything was going on until recently. My suspicions became more aroused on a recent Friday night.
I had switched shifts, working an evening shift, and about midway through the evening I decided to call Sally and let her know that I would be staying over for a couple of hours after work to cover for another employee. There was no answer when I called our home. At first I was surprised and then I remembered that she goes to her my mother in laws house every other Friday to play games. Things became a little more suspicious when I called there and learned that they were not playing games that night and Sally had not been there at all. What could she be up to?
By the time I arrived home that early morning, Sally was in bed. I took my shower and sat there on the edge of the bed just staring at her for a moment or two. It was almost like I was looking for something that might be a clue if something was really going on I should know about.
She was wearing a flannel gown that went nearly to her knees, so I could not get a look at her body for any telltale signs without awakening her. Accepting this, I slid into the bed, turned out the light and cuddled up with her, enjoying her light, sleepy sigh as she snuggled tighter against me.
I tried to drift off to sleep, but I my mind was racing, envisioning her in different sexual situations. I had to know. My suspicions were confirmed as soon as my hand touched her sex. She squirmed slightly from the light contact of my fingers and I discovered that she was very wet and very open. I know it might sound crazy, but I let my finger dip slightly into her gaping cunt, bringing my fingers to my mouth and tasting them. There was no doubt she had been well fucked earlier that evening. The wetness was definitely not just her juices. Her open, steamy pussy was full of manjuice and her thighs were sticky from where she had leaked onto them in her sleep. Now I knew, she had been with someone and from the way she was still gaping, he was obviously well hung. Could it be that she had finally, on her on, granted my wish? Content with the knowledge I now possessed, I drifted off to sleep, knowing I would soon find out one way or another what had transpired.
She had already awakened and left for work by the time I got up the next morning, so I had a few hours to let my imagination go wild. I discovered the panties that she had so carelessly left lying in the bathroom floor. Sure enough, they were still wet and sticky. She had obviously gotten quite a filling from some stud.
I was all ready to confront her and find out what had happened, when she called and said she was going shopping after she got off work. From the tone of her voice, I sensed that she was nervous about something and figured she was just putting off the inevitable a while longer.
When she did come home, a couple of hours later, she headed straight to the bathroom, barely taking time to give me our usual hug and kiss. I was really getting antsy by the time she came out of the bathroom.
"Was he good?" I asked, my arms circling her waist, my lips teasing her neck.
"What are you talking about, hon'?" she replied, a tremble going through her body.
"Awwwwwww, come on, babe. I know you got fucked last night." I laughed, letting my hand drift down her belly, causing her to jerk as I cupped her mound through her clothes. "Did you go fuck him again when you got off work?"
"Oh God, don't make this any harder." she pleaded, her words coming out in almost a sob as her eyes started to tear up. "I'm sorry, hon'."
"Hey, babe, it's okay. I'm not mad." I assured her, turning her to me and kissing her lips gently. "At least I won't be as long as you tell me what happened."
"Promise?" she asked, sniffling slightly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I never meant for it to go this far. I just flirted a little too much and things went to far before I knew it."
"I told you it was okay." I soothed her, leading her over to the couch and sitting down, holding her hand gently as I stared into her eyes. "Lord knows I asked for it. Just tell me about it, please."
"Well, you know how a month or so ago, you were joking with me about me looking for a boyfriend?" she began, gently squeezing my hand.
"Yes....but I was just kidding." I replied, suddenly finding myself getting an erection just thinking about where this conversation was going.
"I knew you were, but the fact of the matter is, there was a guy who had really been flirting a lot with me at the time, a black guy." she blurted out, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. "He comes in to work a lot and as I started losing weight he kept flirting, making comments about how hot I was looking and how the guys were going to be all over me if I kept it up."
