While the characters in this and in my previous stories are based loosely on my wife and me, this is entirely a work of fiction. If you do not like to read fantasies about cuckolds or sex-starved wives, then please move on and read another type of story. Constructive criticism about my writing style or about the story is welcome. Other comments are not.
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As some of you may remember, I recently embarked on a two-month odyssey from normal wife and mother to a slut for black cock. On my most recent adventure with Jerome, I was fingered to an orgasm in public, had sex in a hallway and storage room and finished with a wild encounter in a parking garage that included fucking a friend of Jerome's who (incidentally) had a cock of a size normally only seen in porn movies or made through injection molding. It was an amazing evening and whatever sense of shame I might have had was erased. That night I think I would have fucked anyone who happened to walk by.
When that night ended, Jerome and I talked about the possibility of having a group sex encounter at our house. My husband and I discussed the idea after he returned from his business trip, and he was OK with the idea. However, I began to have second thoughts because I felt that I was becoming too obsessed with Jerome and with his friend(s) and that continued contact might lead to trouble. It's not that I intended to avoid meeting with him forever, but we definitely needed a "cooling off" period. I spoke with Jerome and explained why I wanted to wait for a while and he agreed that we would not see each other for the time being.
About three weeks later, I drove to Nashville to attend a weeklong training class for my job while my husband stayed with the kids. I'm required to attend these classes once or twice a year, so there was nothing unusual about the trip. I booked a room at the Residence Inn I normally stay in, and I arranged to meet with friends (we had lived in Nashville for several years) on the Saturday before the class began.
I arrived during the afternoon on Saturday and checked in to my room. I normally get a room somewhere near the courtyard where the pool is located, but this time they put me in building located at the corner of the property—it was at least 300 feet away from the pool area. It seemed odd since the hotel is largely empty on weekends (it caters to business people from Sunday through Thursday), and the remoteness of the room would definitely affect me later in the evening.
I met my friends at one of their houses for a late dinner (normal dinnertime in Indian households) and had a wonderful time catching up with their lives. I finally left the party at about midnight and drove back to my hotel. Although it was late, I decided that I wanted to make use of the Jacuzzi at the hotel as I was experiencing substantial pain in my upper back. I hadn't planned to use the hot tub or the pool (I can't swim), so I hadn't packed any swimwear. I decided that since it was very late, it was warm and the hotel was mostly empty it would be safe if I wore a gray tank top with no bra (I didn't want it to smell like chlorine at work) and shorts with "decent" panties underneath. I knew it would be apparent that I was braless, but I doubted that anyone would see me. I wasn't trying to be overtly sexy or slutty—just practical. I grabbed a towel and my room key, slipped on some sandals and started toward the pool area.
I wasn't surprised to find the pool area empty as it officially closed at 10:00 pm and it was now close to 1:00 am. However, I knew that the night manager wouldn't complain too much if an individual used the Jacuzzi—the main purpose of the early closing time was to prevent people from making noise while splashing in the pool. I turned on the water jets, took off my shorts (same reasoning about the chlorine smell) and slowly settled in to the hot water in my tank top and panties.
After a few minutes soaking in the water, I heard the pool gate open. When I turned my head to look in that direction, I expected to see a manager or guard coming in to tell me that I needed to leave. However, what I saw was a tall black guy (I'm not making this up) in a swimsuit and he appeared to be ready to join me in the Jacuzzi. It was at that moment that I became very aware of the fact that my tank top was molded to my breasts and my nipples were very hard and visible. I really don't understand myself anymore. I should have hidden my chest under the water. Twenty years ago I wore silwar kameez every day with my chest covered by a chuni. Now, the exhibitionist in me suddenly wished that I had worn a white tank top instead. It is an open question as to whether I would have had the same thoughts if he had been a portly, middle-aged white guy instead.
My new companion took off his t-shirt, said hello to me and settled in to the water about a quarter of the way around the tub. It looked like he was there to relax, so I went back to my business of trying to use the jets to relieve the tension in my back and shoulders. After a few more minutes of gyrations (it's hard to reach the upper back in a hot tub) that gave my new companion ample opportunities to see my tits in a wet tank top, he asked me if it would be OK if he massaged my shoulders. I knew he had been watching my chest, but he hadn't made any passes at me, so I felt that it was reasonably safe for me to agree.
He moved next to me and I turned sideways on the bench to give him access to my back. His hands were strong and the massage felt wonderful. I closed my eyes and felt myself relax. I let him move the straps of my tank top to the side of my arms because he said it would be easier to knead my muscles. I didn't read this as a threat—perhaps it was because my experiences over the summer had changed my perception of what a threat was. However, it meant that the tops of my breasts were mostly uncovered and I was showing deep cleavage. I'm reasonably sure my nipples were still covered but he might have been able to see more from above and behind me.
After a few more minutes of relaxing massage, I suddenly felt him start to kiss the side of my neck. My first reaction was shock, but my neck is so sensitive that I felt my entire body tingle. My husband and I had always joked (before this summer) that I would probably fuck any guy who kissed my neck—I'm so sensitive that my nipples immediately get hard and my pussy floods. I should have stopped him at that point, but I didn't for some reason. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he told me that I would have to wait and see. My body was so electrified that I decided that I would indeed "wait and see".
I melted as he continued to kiss and lightly bite my neck. Since I hadn't resisted (I don't know if he would have stopped even if I had resisted), he slowly moved the tank top straps farther down my arms until my tits were uncovered. He then grabbed both of my tits and started to massage them and pinch and twist my nipples. The shock even became greater when he reached down and used my panty-covered crotch as a handle to pull me against him. He turned my head to the side and planted his mouth on mine and I responded to him eagerly. In one quick move, he pulled my tank top over my head and threw it on my towel.
I had given in to the idea that I was about to have sex with a total stranger in the Residence Inn's hot tub. If this had been the old me, I would have slapped him and left, but that was before my transformation into a slut. His left hand continued to squeeze my left breast roughly while his right hand returned to my crotch. He started by rubbing my pussy aggressively through the fabric of my panties. He slipped his hand under my panties, stuck four fingers in my pussy and lifted me off the bench holding me like that. No one had ever done anything like that to me and I almost came as a result. The fact that he hadn't removed my panties actually made me hotter because it felt more sinful.
At the same time, he removed his left hand from my breast long enough to free his cock from his swimsuit. The combination of his big pole pushing against my ass and back and his hands on my nipple, clit and in my pussy caused me to cum almost immediately. I tried to keep it quiet, but I'm sure at least one of my "oh fuck" comments must have been audible in the rooms around us.