Her Secret

My wife got fuck by a black guy old enough to be her grandson son. You might think they'd have sense enough to know better. But guess it's the times. Nobody gives a damn about much of anything anymore or anyone.

It wasn't love. He was young and horny. And she in need of attention, sexually and emotionally. I take some of the blame for that. I've never been much if a lover and haven't improved with age. Several years ago, I injured my back, acquired diabetes and became impotent and crippled. Still I've been a good husband, provider and pussy eater. I been licking that slut clean every opportunity she'd give me. But evidently it wasn't enough.

I suppose it was a matter of being at the right place at the right time. I never go down to the basement due to my condition but on that day fate had me searching for paint. Not just any paint but cream yellow. Her favorite color. I was going to repaint the bench on the front porch. I didn't want to waste money on a cheap project and knew I had a can down there somewhere.

I found what I was looking for in the far back corner of the place near the old furnace. I had that thing replaced years ago when it broke down. Seeing it again remined me to throw it out. That's when I heard noise coming from the vent behind it. At first, I couldn't make it out, but as it went on, I was certain I'd heard it before. Then it hit me, I remembered that sound.

I got back upstairs fast as I could and headed straight for the laundry room. I was just about to enter but for some reason detoured into the storage room instead. There I went into the small connecting closet where I could see into the laundry room.

Sure, enough my suspicions were right. I knew that sound all too well. And now I was pissed. There was my wife of over forty years, mother and grandmother, retired professional and on her knees smacking and slurping young black cock. This young guy was an assistant to our gardener, Mr. Gamer. This young man's name is Jerome and we knew him since he started working for us back in high school.

What really struck me was his manhood. It was a goddamn monster at least three times the size of mine in with and length. Plus, it was uncut with a pair of massive balls that were each the size of an apple. And clearly this aggressive cock had complete control of my wife. Her gasping, moaning and gulping spoke for itself.

I stood punch drunk for what felt like an hour. Amazed and dumbfounded by what I saw and heard. I couldn't believe what my Jill was saying and doing, let alone Jerome who was like a son and now sexing my wife with more passion and command than I ever known.

She was on her knees panting and working on him like a wild animal, all her clothes off and on the floor except her tight cream yellow bikini panties. He talked dirty to her and she returned it to him. I could tell by their conversation, along with the rhythm and actions that this wasn't their first encounter. She devoured him with a force and hunger I'd never seen. It filled me with jealousy, envy and desire. I hated them and at the same time I didn't want them to stop. I need more and for second it frightened me.

I awoke from the trance when he sucked him to completion and swallowed every last drop of his cum. They wanted to fuck but was afraid I might catch them. He called her his bitch and she agreed. They decided to fuck at is uncle's or in the unit over the garage. She'd let him know tomorrow. They kissed passionately and he went to his knees and literally said goodbye to her pussy. My wife was glowing, and she looked so beautiful. Her hair was a mess, saliva covered her mouth and chest and her body was shimmering with sweat. I could smell the scent of hot sex; it was so strong and fresh.

Once they left, I waited until they were outside before leaving the closest. I was hurt, ashamed and frighten. What did all this mean. My wife was a trollop and cheater. I wondered was this something new or had she always been this way. I sat at the kitchen table thinking what to do next, and just how to handle this newfound trouble. I got my answer the moment she entered the room.

Evidently, she'd cleaned herself, wearing a new set of clothing, and acted as if though nothing happened. In all actuality from her perspective nothing had changed. She wasn't aware I knew. To her everything was still normal. She had her life as is and her secret.

The only curb to this picture would have to come from me. And I decided right then if that was the deciding factor then it wasn't going to happen. I love Jill, I needed her, and I liked was I saw. I was going to keep her and her secret. A sweet thing has come into my life and I hope to enjoy it completely until the end of my days.