Lights Camera And Plenty Of Action

This is based on a true story. The husband involved in this story asked me to write it for him because he has even less talent than me. The names have been changed because the couple involved in this story are regulars to Litorotica. He hopes his wife just happens to come across this story, and by reading it, she gets turned on enough to let him watch her any time she gets the urge to cheat.

Also remember, single quotes ( ' ' ) are the narrator's thoughts. Double quotes ( " " ) are the conversation or actual quotations.

Thanks, and enjoy the story. Just remember, this could happen to you!

Imagine coming home from work one day and find your wife banging the shit out of some other guy. Well, it happened to me. Yeah, yeah, yeah! I know, welcome to the club. But I never really expected it.

We've been married for over 20 years, so I think I know her pretty well. At least I thought I did. I always told her to let me know when there was someone she wanted to fuck. I think it was a little reverse psychology and it worked. I must have taken some of the thrill away from cheating because I had pretty much given her permission. I guess that's why she had only fooled around the few times I knew about.

The two affairs she had on me, I knew about. Frankly, I knew she was going to have them before she did. I knew the guys and knew what they were after. The one I even warned her about, but she didn't listen. There were the couple of wild parties at friends that got a little out of hand, but I was able to watch.

All in all, including the two affairs, I'll bet I could count the number of times she actually had intercourse with someone other than me since our marriage on one hand. And even then, at least according to her, she never let the other guys cum inside her. Good thing because I was the one that was fixed, not her. We decided from the start we didn't want kids, so I got a vasectomy early in our marriage. Mary giving blow jobs to other guys might account for maybe a half dozen times at the most, and they were probably repeats to the same 3 guys, her one boss, a friend of mine, and a neighbor. The main thing was that I knew about them all before they happened. I also got to watch most of them. 'Hell, come to think of it, they were almost all dares.'

Alright, sure. You think there are so many people out there that are married their entire lives and never cheat. Well, not to burst a bubble, and maybe it's the people I choose to associate with, but I have seen very few. I don't want to imply we are swingers or anything like that. Sure, I've fucked and gotten blown by a few different women other than my wife. And yes, Mary knows about all of them. At least I think she does. Actually, most of the couples I know haven't made it past 20 years of marriage to the same person. Come to think of it, I don't know many who have made it past 10 years. So we must be doing something right.

Of those guys I know who fucked or been blown by my wife, I can't really blame them. Mary is a knock out. She always has been. Even now, in her 40's, which nobody believes, she is in good shape. She works-out regularly, rides a bicycle as often as she can, and takes long walks. Although being a little, and I do mean little, heavier than she was 20 years ago, age has been good to her. She has a chest most 20 year olds are spending a fortune to have. When you hear her weight, which you won't get from her, 150 lbs., you have to understand, most of it is her chest. Her tits are huge. With measurements of 40DD, 24, 38, you can understand. Even though gravity has taken a toll on her tits, they still stand out much better than little 36C's of women her age. Her legs are bigger than most guys look for in a younger woman these days. But being she does so much with her legs, they are muscular and firm. She just about lives in high heels at work, even though she hates them. Her ass is round and firm.

Enough on the background, now into the meat of the story.

I had one of those weeks from hell. I finished a project I was working on almost a week early so my boss let me take off a little early on Friday. I thought I would get home, relax a little, and wait for my wife to get home from work so I could take her out to dinner to celebrate a little. As I drove down my street, I noticed my wife's car in the driveway. 'That's strange, her boss is even tighter than mine when it comes to giving somebody off early.' 'Maybe she had a problem with the car?' 'Nope! She'd have called me.' I drove past the house, still wondering what was up, looking for some sign.

I drove around the block just to see if I couldn't recognize any of the cars parked around. There were a couple, but nothing that stood out. I decided to play private detective. I parked around the corner and called her cell phone from mine. This wouldn't seem out of the ordinary because we have one of those cell phone plans where we can call each other for free and won't use up our minutes. We usually call each other on them.

She sounded a little out of breath when she answered. "I just wanted to let you know I'll probably be a couple minutes late. I finished up the project and just wanted to finish the report before the weekend," I told her.

"That's great," she said.

"How's your day going? You sounded like you were running."

"Running?!? No, ahhh, I was in the other room, ah, office, when I heard the phone."

'Ahah! I have you now, Luke Streetwalker.' "Oh, okay. Well go back to work and I'll see you around six or so."

"Okay dear, see you then."

The lying bitch. Now I had to find out what was really going on. Naturally, the first thing that went through my mind was that she was fucking somebody. Maybe the neighbor I knew she had the affair with. Nope, his truck was gone. I think that's the first thing that all men think of. If she just felt like playing hooky from work, she'd have told me. There weren't any special occasions where she would want to clean up the house or decorate or anything like that.

I took off my suitcoat and tie, leaving them in the car. I left my car around the corner from our house and snuck through the neighbors' yards. I crept up onto our back porch and peaked in the window. 'Son-of-a-bitch,' I thought to myself as I saw her braced up against the counter. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and some guy was behind her with his arms wrapped around her. He was kissing her on her neck and ears. It was obvious he had one hand on one of her tits and the other was playing with her pussy. He was still dressed, otherwise, from the way she was rocking back and forth, he could have been fucking her. I could barely hear her through the window.

"Stop, Jim. I can't do this.", she said as he gently kissed and nibbled on her neck.

"Sure you can.", I heard him say reassuringly. "Why can't you?"

"Jim, I'm a married woman."

She sure was saying a lot, but she had yet to pull away from him or anything that would stop him.

"Why did you ask me over then?"

"I don't know. I just…"

"Then why did you dress up for me?"

"I don't know."

"We both know why, so stop playing this hard to get act. You want it, so do I. I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you."

At first I had this urge to kick the door in and strangle the mutha-fucker. But the longer I hesitated, the more interested I became. I was wondering who he was and just how far she would go. Then I recognized him. It was Jim, one of the guys she works with. I've met him at a couple of the parties her company has held. Nice guy, one of the only black guys Mary works with. He's around his mid 30's, 6 foot and maybe around 200 to 210. I remember seeing him in a swim suit at the one swimming party. He is built rather well, very muscular. I'm not exactly built too bad, for mid 40's, but I sure have to work a little harder to stay this way these days. He has those well defined muscles that say he has about 5% body fat. I should have seen it by the way she kept eyeing him up, but being Mary always said she could never fuck a black guy, I took her for her word. I guess the joke is on me.

I knew what he was doing, playing the odds. Most guys don't come right out and say "fuck" to a woman they are trying to seduce. That is unless they know the woman might be turned on by it. He was gambling that Mary was one of those women who got turned on by hearing the word fuck. After all, that's what he was hoping, for a fuck. He didn't want to make love to her. And that's what he was hoping she wanted too. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he was betting on the right number. When she is in the right mood, talking dirty works.

Being married for so long, we usually make love, no matter whether I regard it as a fuck or not. On the rare occasions when she does get in the mood for fucking, she usually enjoys being talked dirty to. On really rare occasions, she even talks dirty in return.

We had talked about her and black guys. There was one friend of mine, coincidentally named James, who was an exceptionally well brought up black guy. I always joked that he had more class, more intelligence, and spoke better than most of my white friends. Mary never had any reservations about kissing him hello and good-bye when we would get together. Of course, Mary usually kisses and hugs any of my friends which just goes to prove friends are friends regardless of their skin color. There were a couple of times when we would be together with James to watch a game or something and by the end of the evening had enough to drink that I actually thought I could convince her to fuck him. The closest I ever got was for her to feel his cock through his pants one night when we discussed our size difference. I even tried talking her into fucking him and told her it was okay, as long as I was there to watch. I guess I'm no different than so many other white husbands that have a deep seated fantasy of watching some well endowed black guy fuck his wife. But she never did. I couldn't even get her to blow him. She always held back saying she couldn't do it with a black guy.

All of this flashed through my mind as I watched this guy with my wife in our kitchen. I felt like some peeping Tom, 'but damn it, this is my house and my wife.' I didn't want any of the neighbors to see me, so I went around to the back of the house. I knew that one of the basement windows was easy to get into. It never latched real tight. I played around with it for a few minutes and 'presto', it opened. I had to use this window before when I accidentally locked myself out.

I crawled through the now opened window, and gently lowered myself to the laundry room floor. I had no sooner closed the window when I heard footsteps and laughter coming down the steps to the clubroom. 'Oops, I hope they stay in that room,' I thought to myself. I gently pushed the door that separates the clubroom from the laundry room to a half closed position so I could move around a little without them seeing me. The laundry room only has one window, and being on the shaded side of the house, usually stays rather dark.

Mary went behind the bar, "What would you like?", I heard her ask.

Jim thought for a minute, "How about a shot of Jack?"

"On the rocks?"

"No, straight up," he replied.

Mary poured his and fixed herself a double shot of tequila.

'Bitch! She's drinking my 1800. What's wrong with the Cuervo?' Okay, enough is enough. My wife? Maybe. My booze? Never. But first I have to see how far this will go.

Jim sat at the bar while Mary played the part of the barmaid. I noticed how she was dressed and wondered why she was all dolled-up. She doesn't dress that nice for work. She was wearing her black silk blouse, a black skirt, black stockings, and her black 5 inch heels. When I ask her to wear the heels, "they hurt my feet". Her long dark auburn hair was pulled back into a braid. She even had makeup on, which she seldom does for work.

They got into a little chit chat about work and the bosses and some of the other employees. Then I heard my name. Normally women cheat on their husbands because they think the husband is fooling around on them or not spending enough time with them. Well at least that's the general consensus from the men. Thinking about it, maybe the latter was true, but in all honesty, I had been so busy with this project I would have had a hard time making time to fool around with Shania Twain or Lee Ann Rimes. Maybe I hadn't been spending enough time with her. But the conversation didn't even go that way.

"He's a good man," she said. "I love him a lot," she said. "He treats me so good," she said. 'So, tell me bitch, why do you have this black guy in our house while I'm not home and while you should be at work?'

"But you're missing something, right?"

"What do you mean, Jim?"

"Why am I here, if your husband is so good?"

"I don't know. I guess I need something. Something different. Something …"

"Something taboo, maybe?"

"Hmm. That might be it."

Then it dawned on me, I was cleaning my video camera the other day. I turned and looked at my workbench and there it was. Not that I thought she was going to do anything but… I quietly went over to it and dropped the charged battery pack in. It still had a tape in it. Ah, evidence. I started to record them, when I remembered the little red flashing light. 'Oops!' I found my electrical tape, pulled a small piece from the roll, and placed it across the light. Now we're in business.

I love modern technology. The video camera I have is very small and has one of those screens that can tilt and turn so you can see it from all different directions. I slid the camera through the door and onto a shelf right next to it. I was able to turn the screen so I could see it from behind the door without them being able to see me or the camera. The camera has a pretty good zoom on it, so I could get in close. It also has descent audio. I just kept adjusting it until I had it right on them.

I listened to them talking about me, all nice things. 'Okay, so where is this leading.' Then it came out. Ever since that night when she felt the size of James's cock, she has had "this uncontrollable desire to fuck a black guy". Her words, not mine. 'Shit, that was over 3 years ago,' I thought. 'What exactly does she mean by uncontrollable?' 'How many times has she done this?'

Then she continued, she has "never had the opportunity". "The opportunity never presented itself." 'So why now?', I thought. 'What made it present itself now?'

"And when you made the comment the other day, well, it got me to thinking."

'What kind of comment?' 'Got her to thinking what?' I was starting to anticipate what the comment the other day was, and what she was thinking. Oh, I made sure the camera was getting all of this down. This was getting interesting. I wanted to ask them to speak up a little, but knew that wouldn't work.

"But, you know that, even though I meant what I said, I didn't mean to be so, well, abrupt about it." Jim said.

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it. I knew what you meant." Mary replied. "After all, if you hadn't said it in such a way that I knew what you meant, I may not have picked up on it and we wouldn't be here now."

"I just didn't mean to, well, make you sound, well… like a whore."

"Whore?" Did he say 'whore'? 'Ooo!' This was getting interesting.

"I didn't take it that way." Mary rebutted. "I never thought you meant it that way. I don't even think any of the other girls took it that way."

Oh great! Someone else heard whatever it was that was said. Now both of them are off at the same time. They must think people are stupid.

Mary walked out from behind the bar and next to Jim. She pressed her one leg against his. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and leaned close to him. "I just don't know."

"Don't know what?", Jim asked.

"If I'd be doing the right thing."

"I hope you aren't asking for my opinion. I think I might be a little biased."

"What is it about me? I mean, why are you interested in me?"

"Well, how blunt do you want me to be?"

"I want you to be honest."

"Why you? Well, first, you are attractive, you are very attractive. Don't take this wrong, but for an older woman you are, shall I say, very well preserved. I like more mature women. Younger women expect too much. There is no such thing as cheap meaningless sex. You have to be so careful about who you have sex with. With the younger girls, you never know what you'll catch. I don't take those chances. I guess that's why I like married white women from the upper middle and upper class society, especially those that have been married for a while, and those I have gotten to know something about. I guess I figure they are safer. Like you for example, I know you don't use drugs. I know you don't just fuck around with everybody under the sun. You have some descent intelligence. And besides, and don't take this wrong either, you are built like a brick shithouse. You are one of those women every man dreams about fucking."

"I'm fat."

"You are not fat! I hate skinny woman. Today, it seems like if you aren't anorexic you're considered fat. I don't agree. Pardon me for being blunt, but I love your tits, ass, and legs, they have meat on them. And you are cute, you have a pretty face. I'd love to fuck your face."

I had to agree with him. Mary is built, especially considering her age. At almost 45, she easily passes for 30, especially when she gets a little made up, like she was. Even without makeup, she is a doll. She has always taken care of her skin.

"Yeah, I've got meat on them alright."

"Seriously, Mary, you are one good looking woman. I don't know why you can't accept that. Doesn't your husband tell you that enough?"

Oh, boy. I wanted to hear her response to that.

"Sure he tells me. He tells me all of the time. I think the problem is me. Even when he tells me, I don't listen to him. I seldom dress up for him and I guess I just think he's telling me because we're married or something."

"If he does, he's telling you the truth. You are lovely. If I were him, I'd make love to you all the time."

"He does. I mean, he would. You know, Jim, maybe it is the idea of doing it with someone different. We've been married for over 20 years. Maybe I'm just bored."

"That could be. Twenty years with the same person, doing it the same way, it could get boring. I'm no sex therapist…"

'That's right, asshole, so keep your analysis to yourself.'

"but I would think a change in partners once in a while is good for a marriage."

"I don't know, Jim. I really do love him. Every time I have cheated on him, I've ended up with a guilty conscience, even when it was one he wanted me to do."

"One thing I have found, Mary, and this is strictly my opinion, love is love and sex is sex. If you consider sex a source of entertainment… in other word, if you think sex is fun, then you should regard it as something different than making love to your husband. If you can separate the two, you will have more fun with both. After all, I came over here to fuck you, not make love to you."

"So, do you wanna fuck this married white woman or what?"

Jim just about choked. "Wha… What? Ah! Yeah! Of course I do."

I knew she was getting into this now, but I still wasn't convinced she was going to actually fuck him. I still had a feeling, maybe even a hope she would stop before going that far.

"Well, first, have you ever seen my dick?"

"No, I haven't. You know that."

Mary leaned towards him and kissed him gently on the mouth. She raised her arms and hugged him around his shoulders. He spun around towards her, still sitting on the barstool. Mary spread her legs slightly on each side of his right knee and began rubbing her pussy against his knee. She ran her hands over his body as they continued kissing. Jim lowered his one hand to her pussy while he undid her blouse with the other. Mary leaned into him. She reached down with her one hand and rubbed his crotch.