Turning Myself Over To Be Blacked

Disclaimer: This story deals with interracial sex, cuckolding, dominance/submission, body modification, sexual servitude, impregnation, and more. Please do not continue if any of these subjects offend you. This is a work of fiction, meant to be enjoyed. Please click back if this does not suit your style. I am not Jane Austen. It is just another black stud and white wife story. They are free, so don't expect a literary masterpiece. All negative comments will be deleted.

ALSO: Please be advised that not much actual sex happens. This story is mostly build up. (Erotic, I hope!)

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I nearly couldn't believe it. The day I had dreamed about for the past three years had finally arrived. After three years of watching interracial porn, role-playing, using my big black dildo "Marcus" (alone and with my husband, Sam)-- and daydreaming aloud with Sam about how hot it would be, Sam was finally going to hand me over to be blacked.

Yes, that's right. Me, Eden, a cute white wife just twenty-six years old, never pregnant yet, never before blacked--never even laid with a dick over seven inches before ever. I was finally going to get blacked by a massive eleven-inch BBC.

I'm a typical cute, nerdy-looking blonde with glasses, I guess. I have a thin physique, but with just the right curves. I have a petite butt, but it suits my frame and looks sexy both clothed and naked. My hips curve out nicely from my small waist. My small shoulders and thin limbs make me look very feminine. I'm of average height with b-cup breasts that are perky and look great on me, my boyfriends and husband have said. My face is "adorable," I'm told, with bright blue eyes and cute lips and nose.

I'm one of those quiet girls who's secretly very horny. Ever since age eighteen, I've always made sure to have a boyfriend, and then married to Sam. It wasn't hard for me to go from one guy almost immediately to the next because of my large social circle, good looks, and nice disposition. I think it helped that I seemed approachable but not slutty. Someone attractive always was hoping to date me, luckily for me. I probably had a dozen boyfriends from 18 to 22, when I met my husband, and I definitely enjoyed making love with all of them. The whole time, I probably had just two or three that were "hookups"--not many.

I'll admit to enjoying the larger cocks more. Probably my best lover ever so far was this hispanic guy, Enrique. Enrique had a thick seven-incher and really knew how to use it. Unfortunately we didn't have enough to talk about, so we drifted apart after a few hot months of fucking.

I was attracted to black guys, but I was intimidated by them, too. I was nervous about dating one or even hooking up. My family was admittedly an obstacle. My parents weren't racist, but I knew they thought it was tough to live an interracial lifestyle in the United States. It was hard to argue with their fact-based view when I was continuing to look to them to fund college and then graduate school--especially as I was mostly a serial monogamist and not into hookup culture.

Possibilities shifted when I was free from my parents' funding and as I discovered that my husband shared my interest in interracial sex. Conveniently, Sam had a voyeuristic perspective, to boot!

After Sam admitted one night, drunk, that he thought it would be hot if I hooked up with a black guy, I gradually led us through the various steps of more and more interracial sexual habits. We began with role-playing and porn, eventually added black dildos, and now--at long last--the idea of making our mutual fantasy come to life.

It was up to me to lead. Sam doesn't have a leadership bone in his body, unfortunately. He faked being a leader for a while, during our courtship. I still wonder if his pals were coaching him!

Sam was understandably nervous that our relationship could be harmed by my getting blacked. I finally convinced him that we were both so turned on by the fantasy, that we simply had to take the chance and hope for the best.

Sam agreed to my suggestion that I should go to online chat rooms to look for a lover that appealed to me.

I decided to look for someone with an eleven-inch cock because it would be a little bigger than my largest dildo, "Marcus," which was ten inches. Ten inches was now comfortable. I wanted my first real-life black cock to test and stretch me!

I also wanted to find someone whose company I would enjoy, so that I might have an enduring affair--although I didn't tell that part to Sam!

It took me a few months and filtering through a hundred or more options that didn't seem enticing enough. I so badly wanted my very first BBC experience to be special--to be exactly right.

FInally, I found Robert. Robert had an extremely appealing mix of a dominant personality, high intelligence, a good sense of humor, an excellent physique--and of course his gorgeous eleven-inch cock.

Robert's face was awkward looking--with his jaw crooked and his nose broken one too many times. But his awkward looks only made me feel more slutty and turned on. That I was able to be so excited to fuck a studly but odd-looking black bull--that told me I was really becoming a black cock slut!

Robert also lived in our same metro area, only about twenty minutes drive.

After just a few days, online chatting with Robert progressed to talking on the phone. We even did some video calls. He insisted on seeing me naked. He was pleased. He told me "thin gorgeous little white sluts" like me are his favorites!

I asked him to get naked likewise. He assented, and I was able to confirm that he'd been truthful with his photos. His cock in particular was every bit the gorgeous, giant BBC he'd sent me pictures of earlier. He got it hard for me so I could be sure. Golly, that was a turn on! I had to use my dildo "Marcus" for two orgasms before I could relax enough to sleep that night!

Robert made me promise that we would only fuck bareback. He said that even though he "fancied" me, he had dozens of hot white wives to choose from, and that he would only fuck me if I were willing to be exclusively bareback. He sent me recent medical test records, and demanded the same from me. I was a little insulted but had to admit that turnabout is fair play.

My husband, Sam, also agreed to me going out on a date with Robert to be bareback fucked. Not only that, Sam agreed that I could keep having an affair with Robert for however long we both might wish--that was another agreement that both Robert and I thought was important.

It makes my panties wet just to think about it--even now, years later, when I at last decided to write it all down.

Robert insisted on talking with Sam. Robert only wanted to fuck a white wife whose husband was "totally supportive, completely on board," he said. He didn't want any single women as they could easily become too demanding.

Also, it was hotter, Robert said, to fuck previously loyal white wives.

Still, Robert didn't want any trouble with angry husbands, even if they might be smaller than him, easy to beat up. "It can be considered assault with a 'deadly weapon' if I beat up a little white guy--even with just my fists," Robert spelled out for me.

Robert insisted on speaking to Sam to get the "all clear." I could only overhear Sam's end of the conversation. "Yes, Robert. Yes you may record our call. Go ahead... Yes, those rules work for me, Sam Partridge. I promise that you, Robert Crow, have my blessing to maintain a sexual relationship with my wife, Eden, as long as you both might like, even if it's indefinitely long. Even if it never ends. Yes, I understand how badly she needs to be black-fucked. I want the love-of-my-life to be happy and satisfied... Yes, Robert, thank you in advance..."

It was another week from that phone conversation until Robert had time to go on our first date together. We agreed that it would be sexiest if we went on a proper date, even though we both intended that we would end up fucking.

That whole week, Sam was pretty much a moody mess. Sometimes he was excited for me and for us, about the new direction for our sex life. Other times, he was scared he might lose me.

I probably didn't help things.

When Sam was in a good mood about my upcoming date, I played things up. I would say things like: "Golly, do you think my pussy will ever be the same after Robert's BBC is in it all night? I mean, it's stretched now--yes--but Robert is even bigger. Do you think I'll get even more stretched?" Or, "I bet this is the start of a really hot and long-lived affair for me, Sam... Aren't you excited for me?" Or, "Can you imagine how womanly and fulfilled I'm going to feel with Robert's thick eleven-inches all up inside me?" Or, "Golly, I bet I'll come several times in an evening with Robert even though I've only come once in an evening with you--don't you think?"

I wouldn't fuck Sam this week when he was horny, either. I wouldn't even fuck him once. I told him I wanted my pussy to get nice and rested for Robert. Sam would have to settle for a hand job most nights. One night, I only let him beat off while I talked to him about how hot it was going to be for me to finally get blacked--"blacked, at last, like I deserve." I knew it was titillating for Sam, but it definitely also stoked his anxiety.

When Sam was grumpy, I would feed his insecurities even more for my own erotic satisfaction and power purposes. In my marriage, I wasn't always as nice to my wimpy husband at home as I was to him in public. His weakness annoyed me; I resented him for it. He still had other good qualities, and I did love him. Probably I wouldn't have married him, though, if I had realized he was never going to develop much confidence.

When he was in a funk or scared, I'd keep up the teasing. I'd continue to say the same sorts of things to Sam as when he was upbeat. Remarks like: "Golly, I probably will barely notice when you fuck me once I've gotten used to Robert's BIG. BLACK. COCK!" Or, "Hmm. I wonder if Robert will even allow me to fuck you after I've been with him for a little while? I hear some black bulls make their white women go black only, you know!" Or, "I haven't even asked Robert if I'll still be allowed to fuck you at all, dear! If I enjoy his fucking as much as I expect, probably I will end up submissive to his preferences, don't you think?" Or, "Wow! I might soon be fucking black only! Wouldn't that be weird?" Or, "Oh, my gosh! To think of it: Soon my pussy will be resized even more! You'll feel me even less after my true blackening!"

It drove Sam crazy both with lust--he was really turned onto me going black--and also with anxiety over losing me that must have heightened his lust. He must have liked it on some level, because he never got angry and his dick was hard whenever we were talking--no matter how I was teasing and taunting him!

Wimpy husband Sam had a hardon almost constantly the whole week leading up to me being blacked!

Finally, the night before our first date, Robert phoned me up and had a serious chat with me.

"Eden," he said. "I know you're excited for our date tomorrow and to finally get blacked. Trust me, I'm very excited about it, too. But I would be a bad guy if I didn't offer you one final out. You see, you really need to understand... Almost every white woman finds big black cocks to be like a drug. A very addictive drug. Even if you do not get hooked on me, personally, the odds are extremely high--something like, I don't know, 99%, that once you fuck me that you will never go back to white cocks only. Yes, it will be the size, but it will also be the total package. The smell. The physical contrast. The taboo nature of it. The black man's thick lips and strong muscles. Our more dominant nature... Your pussy will get resized after a short time being blacked, so soon you won't even feel white cocks... In other words, you will never be the same wife to Sam again once you are getting blacked regularly... Are you sure you are ready for this? Are you sure you can handle the risk to your marriage? Sam might like it now--but it can become a different picture if you stop fucking him altogether or stop enjoying him at all... You also might fall in love with me or with another Brother. It's been known to happen... It could be a huge strain on your marriage, and I know you love Sam..."

"Oh, I am 1,000% sure of things, Robert. I am totally ready to get blacked by you... Yes, I know it's a risk... Yes, I've been thinking about all those intense possibilities you mention... I think most likely, Sam will adjust... In fact, I am so horny to get blacked and to keep getting blacked. I am COUNTING on getting hooked. I am expecting that I will want to keep being black-fucked. Sam knows it. Sam knows exactly what we are doing. He definitely knows I want to add black cock permanently to my life. He even knows I might go black only--especially if a black boyfriend ends up commanding it... Uh... Hint! Hint!" I brazenly added.

I hesitated briefly before continuing. "The risk that I might end up black-only... that I might end up no longer having relations with my beloved Sam... well, I think he's scared shitless, to tell you the truth... but I'm excited..." I again caught a quick breath, took stock.

"There's no avoiding it as part of the package anyway, is there?" I asked.

"No, that's right, Eden. Exactly right... Maybe going black-only... You're right that risk is all part of this... No one will force that on you, but you're right that it's a path you may be started on..." Robert said, then adding, "It's so good that we're discussing this, getting this out in the open... This is the kind of communication I like with my bitches, Eden... You know I'm hoping to make you one of my regular bitches, right? Assuming you're as hot a 'fuck' as I expect from getting to know you so far, that is..."

"Oh, Robert... Fuck... I wouldn't ordinarily stand for it, but somehow you being all degrading makes me wet... I think I would love to be one of your 'regular bitches'... Would you have to share me with your friends then, too?"

"That's right, cunt... If you're one of my main bitches, you'd have to be available to me for sex anytime you're not working... If you had kids already, it'd be different, I'd allow them some priority... But I gotta come ahead of Sam, that's for sure. I gotta be your main man, even if you're married still on paper... Even if I call you to come over when you're out on a date with Sam, you gotta come over... If I call when you're fucking Sam, you gotta stop and come over... If I ring your home doorbell at 3am, you gotta let me in and service my cock, even if you were dead asleep or right in the middle of sex with your husband... And, yeah, if I bring my pals--say Jimmy or Roc--then you got to fuck or suck Jimmy or Roc... Or whoever... Even if I give you some dumbass guy to fuck because I owe him a favor... You like how that sounds, slut? I bet you do!"

"Yeah," I admitted, half reluctantly. "Fuck, Robert. That is actually really hot! I love the idea of being sexually owned and controlled by you. Fuck!"

"Great, bitch. See you tomorrow night. Just come right over to my place, and we will proceed from there... Wear something sexy and not too expensive. No promises on whether your clothing will survive the night. Be here at 7pm sharp. I'll text you the address." Followed quickly by a click.

I was so excited and turned on! Fucking my first real live black bull with a giant black cock was now just a day away! And he was so incredibly charismatic, manly, and built!

I gave Sam a sympathy fuck that night before my first date with Robert. I taunted him the whole time about how I was excited--not for him, but for Robert. Don't think I'm mean--Sam loved it!

I got on all fours so I wouldn't have to look him in the eye and then let Sam try his best on me from behind.

"Oh, gosh, Sam! Just think, we have no idea when or even *IF* I'll be fucking you again! Isn't that hot? This might be your last time in my pussy--for a week, a month, a year... or maybe ever! Isn't that so hot that you just don't know? I'm sure it's scary for you... Sorry, dear. NOT. MY. PROBLEM... Oh, that makes you horny to think about, eh? Is that why your little dicklet is staying hard as I taunt you? Ha!"

Sam tried his best to fuck me. I barely felt it compared to fucking myself with "Marcus," but it was nice to be together--perhaps for the last time having intercourse, I realized. It truly was a possibility.

If I cut Sam off for sex, I wondered what privileges I might continue to allow... Would I still give him blow jobs? Would I let him eat me? Maybe I would let him eat me only when he was cleaning up black cum--that would be hot! Would I still even French kiss him? How about hand jobs?

Then, I realized Robert or any other black lover might call the shots on what I would be allowed--or required--to do for Sam... And it sent a shiver through me that I would soon perhaps be so submissive to black cock. What an exciting idea!

That's what I was thinking about as Sam did his best to fuck me with his little pecker.

Luckily, after just a few minutes, Sam managed to squirt off inside me--well, inside the condom inside me, rather. I had already told Sam that only black cock could be naked in my pussy from now on, for the foreseeable future. It was my idea. I didn't even discuss it with Robert yet--though I looked forward to telling him.

I then allowed Sam the privilege of using "Marcus" on me so that I could cum, before we turned in for the night.

Getting dressed the next evening for my date, I swapped my usual glasses for contacts, did my hair, and put on my makeup quite nicely. I wore my favorite little black dress. Sam always said it was my hottest. It was an expensive dress--against Robert's recommendation. I didn't care if it got shredded. I wanted to look my best. I thought I did a nice job, at least!

My pussy was juicing like crazy even as I got dressed. Sam could smell it and made a comment. "Darn, Eden, you never smelled so turned on before in our whole time together!" he remarked.

"I know, honey. I'm sorry! I'm just soooooo turned on! I can't believe I'm finally going to get black fucked! I better put a pad in my panties, I guess!" I replied.

"No apology needed, Honey! It's exciting for me, too! I love that you're becoming a black cock slut and that you're so turned on! Dang, it's hot! Will you please let me listen in on my cell phone, pretty please?" Sam begged.

"Hmm. I don't think so, not this first time, Honey. You'll just have to use your imagination. If you are well-behaved and don't play with yourself while I'm gone, I'll give you a handjob when I get home--assuming Robert doesn't forbid it for some reason, of course.... But you must refrain from beating off, got it?"

"Yes, dear. Okay!" Sam whimpered.

Fast forward a few minutes, and I was at Robert's doorstep, ringing the bell of his beautiful, huge row house in a classy part of midtown. It was a mostly but not all black neighborhood. Sam had driven me and was watching from the car until I got in the house.

Robert's voice came over the intercom. "You look good, slut. I see you wore a fancy dress. I can't be thrashing that the way I had planned. No sir. And for disobeying me, you have a consequence. You gotta strip now on my doorstep. No hesitation or I'll send you home."

I got busy and took the dress quickly all the way off--even though it was still daylight out, thanks to the long summer days... even though it was a warm summer evening and people were milling about!

"Panties and bra, too, cunt," Robert's voice commanded again through the intercom. "Let my neighbors see the white slut. What do I care?!"

I complied. Never more embarrassed in my entire life. Robert barked through the intercom again. "Turn around now, bitch, and let the street see your pretty little titties!"