(This is just our third attempt at writing an erotic story. If you have positive comments, please feel free to leave them. If you don't like the interracial/black man-white female genre don't bitch, just keep it to yourself.)
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It was Friday afternoon and school had just gotten out. My wife Connie taught art at a local School of the Arts and wasn't expecting me to come by and pick her up for an early dinner and a movie. I worked as a detective for the Atlanta Police Department and had some flexibility with my schedule so as to spring little surprises on her from time to time.
After 25 years of marriage, I tried to surprise her whenever I could get away from the department. You know, flowers, cards, and time away from the kids. I made it a point to give her whatever she wanted, so that she would know that I thought she was the most amazing woman in the world.
She wasn't in her room when I arrived, having bus duty until about 3:45 p.m. So I went into her classroom to wait. I moved around the room looking at the kids art work. There were examples of every form of art you can imagine in the room. My wife especially enjoyed pottery. She loved to mold and fire pots and bowls.
Now, in my wife's classroom there is a large storeroom were she keeps her art supplies and has her pottery kiln. We had often used that storeroom for quickies during her pre-planning days prior to school starting. She loved to be bent over the kiln and fucked from behind and I loved to accommodate her every chance I got.
This day would be no exception, if things worked out as I had planned.
The storeroom was full of free standing shelves and racks for drying paintings, crafts and pottery. My plan was to go in the storeroom room and kind of hide while I waited for her to return from bus duty. I figured I'd jump out grab her for a quickie, as we'd done so many other times, and then leave for dinner.
I loved jumping my wife's "bones." She is still one of the most beautiful women I've ever known. At forty-five years old she a real looker, easily looking like she's in her thirties. With long auburn hair, fair skin and a fit, trim body, she is always getting stares from the men around the school and community. Her youthful figure boasts long legs, a flat stomach and 36C breasts that still stand tall and proud after 3 children.
I moved to the storeroom, and while looking at some of the pottery that was drying, I heard her classroom door open and someone walk in. I moved to the door for a peek, expecting to see Connie. Instead, Erick, one of the P.E. coaches was standing there. Erick was a handsome, muscular, twenty-five year old black man, who had been teaching at the school since he graduated from the University of Florida two years earlier.
Connie and I are big Gator fans and had watched him pay football for four years. She was kind of instantly attracted to him when he was hired, because he was kind of a quasi-celebrity. She had spoken of him before in passing and mentioned their budding friendship. As I watched him move around her classroom, I figured he was there to wish her a good weekend ,before the weekend started.
He sat at her desk and stretched out his legs, grabbing a magazine to read while he waited. I noticed that he was still in amazing shape, with big, strong legs and a massively developed upper body. His arms were easily twenty inches around and ripped.
I moved back into my hiding place and waited. A few minutes later the door opened again and in walked my wife. She didn't seemed surprised at all when she saw him sitting at her desk. Rather she smiled brightly at him as she turned and locked the classroom door.
My mind was filled with surprise and confusion at her locking the door. What surprised and shocked me even more though, was watching her walk up to him and to give him a kiss. Not a peck mind you, but a deep, soulful French kiss!
What the fuck was she doing? I couldn't believe what I was watching. A powerful rage like I'd never felt before began to build in my body.
As they kissed, I watched him slide his dark hand up her pale arm. My heart was beating out of my chest. The passion of the kiss my wife was sharing with another man was killing me. I ground my teeth and clinched my fists rage... but for reasons I can't explain, I didn't move from my point of concealment.
They continued to kiss for what seemed like forever. Their tongues moving and caressing one another's. Barely audible moans were escaping from their mouths. My anger grew with each passing moment, but I couldn't seem to make my feet move toward the door, they seemed frozen to the floor.
The kiss broke for a moment and I prayed that this was as far as my wife's infidelity would go...but again she surprised me. She reached down and grabbed the hem of her skirt and hiked it up so she could swing her leg over his, settling herself on his lap.
As her leg raised to straddle his, I clearly saw that she wasn't wearing any panties. My mind exploded with anger and hatred like never before. I started toward the door, then stopped.
As she seated herself on his lap, she began to seductively move her hips and grind her pussy on his crotch, as they returned to they're kissing. I looked and noticed her hands working at his belt, trying to get it undone without breaking the kiss or stopping her grinding. His hands too were busy, unbuttoning her blouse and fumbling with the front hooks of her bra.
My hand reached for the police SWAT knife that I always carried with me. It was time to put an end to this bullshit. How dare she touch another man...much less dry hump him right there in her classroom.
As I pulled the knife from the sheath, I noticed how my hands had begun to shake. What exactly was I going to do? Kill him...her...or just scare them to death.
With the knife in my hand, I continued to watch them as my mind raced through the possible intervention scenarios. The passion with which they worked at undressing one another was amazing. The kissing, the touching, the synchronized movements of their bodies revealed a hunger and passion I hadn't seen from my wife in years.
