My Husband's Strange Behavior Led to Sexual Adventures with Black Men
Preface
Victoria is closest childhood friend I have. When she told me that she wanted to write about the episodes in her life that she confided to me when she was having a hard time understanding what was happening and that she wanted my help, I did not hesitate to fly to Paris to see her and Philippe. They both wanted it done but she also wanted to protect everyone involved. I agreed to write and submit to a site like Literotica with a readership among whom submission of like stories might be possible.
It was not easy because I wanted it to represent how she saw things in her mind and how she would have described the events to accurately convey what she felt at the time while reflecting the nuanced progression of her insight into the subtle differences in her responses to everything she was immersed in. She would correct words, phrasing and often changed the images I used to paint the story of what she had gone through. In the end, she was happy with the outcome and felt satisfied that it was as close to what she might have composed herself except in a few instances, where the prose veered towards being more analytical than sensual. I hope I have done her great story justice.
Victoria's Story
Prologue
This is a true story of my wild sexual dalliance with black men that my husband's secret wish triggered into reality. It was a very short episode in my life. Since that time, none of the wild things have drawn me to indulge again, perhaps because it led to having a black man in my life permanently. I have often wondered if there have been others out there from closely similar cultural roots, education and professional achievement as my husband then, Winston, and I, who had anything similar happen to them. I imagine, however, that when it comes to sex these may not always matter in partner selection or in level of indulgence or in the nature of the pleasures we derive from it.
I wanted to tell this story after having been encouraged to do so by my black man as final closure following our dinner with my former husband, Winston, and his beautiful Northern Chinese mistress when they passed by Paris five years after I moved in with Philippe, who did not hesitate to marry me after I was free. But I also had a mischievous wish of eliciting similar stories from others in the readership where this story might be published; that is, stories about being driven to activities that run counter to what they have known and believe they truly and normally are and hopefully ended in a good and happy outcome.
I have indulged myself in recalling the intimate sexual details of the experiences as the flood of memories cascaded into my consciousness. I wanted to narrate them as close to what I felt when they were happening to me at the time. While this stoked some intense titillation in the recounting, it did not rise anywhere near the level that could have driven me to re-indulge - far from it - but I did not suppress them either because it lent perspective to where I am now. My black man and I had exhilarating fun reliving some of what happened and that is more than enough. Although this is really a "confession" with different names and locations except for Paris, I hope some of you will find it enjoyable in part or whole.
Finally, allow me to thank my childhood best friend, Pearllily1967, for having been a shoulder to lean on in my times of distress before I moved to Paris and for helping me write this story and volunteering to submit it in order to protect the central characters.
A Mystery About My Chinese-American Husband
Six months into my marriage to a handsome, intelligent and physically fit Chinese-American who swept me off my feet, I accidentally discovered that he, Winston, had a fascination for sex between black men and Chinese women. It happened when I had to hastily use his MacBook Pro one day. Without attempting to explore, I easily stumbled upon an explicit video of a well-endowed black man and a lovely Asian woman, more than likely Chinese.
It was a high quality video artistically capturing the pair from the time they met through their seduction preliminaries, followed by highly erotic foreplay and copulation in many positions discreetly showing his large penis gliding in and out of her frothing vagina while hands and lips were fully engaged that clearly showed the throes of passion they shared. Their sweat-covered bodies and incessant open-mouth kissing, her body periodically convulsing to signal peaks as they moved from one position to another, clearly attested to it.
I was so captivated by their images, which affected me powerfully that my vagina started pulsating and then creamed well before the video ended. I was greatly perplexed to discover that Winston, excellent in bed who always brought me to an orgasm each time, was into pornography, though I must admit that the way the camera work was done, it was like watching a loving couple having an intense sexual experience captured artistically. I was just as perplexed at my intense reaction to the images of the sexual encounter. My curiosity kindled a need to discover the reason for this side of my husband but I was quite apprehensive about what my reactions meant or where it could lead.
About Me
I am Chinese-American as well. I have been called very beautiful, with a well-proportioned body, smooth pearly white skin, athletic and in excellent shape and who is just beginning a career in astrogeology. Trained in ballet from a young age, I am excellent in ballroom dances, especially Latin in which I acquired an idiomatic lilt to my dancing from my high school Latina friends who took me into their circle and taught me how to move my body without thought or care of anything else in the world except being one with my inner sense of rhythm and the music. They all exuded a sensuality that invites instant wonderment from males about how much pleasure they can convey into a mating encounter.
Over a period of a few months, they turned me into one whose lilt in body motion was free and, dare I say, more sensual. By the time we graduated, they enthusiastically declared that I had been reborn and now moved like a truly refined Latina - they said that my movements were more subtle than theirs but just as sensual or more so to the eyes of those who could appreciate it. I was flattered and thanked them all for it. I became part of their popular dance team. At a post-graduation party, we were challenged to show off what we could do, partnered with boys we had been performing with throughout the year. It was great fun and I got the most applause in part for being a successful cultural transplant.
In college, serious studies for a double major in astronomy and geology that made for a heavy academic workload made extra-curricular activities impossible. But by junior year, I was far ahead in academics that I accepted the challenge from my roommate to join her in the cheerleading squad for the University. So, I became a cheerleader for two years in college. Later, during a Thanksgiving weekend that junior year, she invited me to her family home for a visit where she introduced me to an executive of a fashion modeling agency during a homecoming party given by her parents. Soon, I was dabbling in fashion modeling (including lingerie and swimsuits) with my roommate, who is herself quite a stunner. I had actually done a little modeling since senior year in high school during summers but nothing at the professional level.
When Eileen, my roommate, discovered that I could dance well during my tryout which she watched - better than anyone in the cheerleading squad, she said later - she would pester me about going dancing at a high-end club which specializes in Latin dancing. One slow weekend, I finally agreed but we could only get one of our cheerleading male counterparts to go with us - Eileen's regular date, Earl, a black man who was a senior in Social Sciences. At first, we all just watched, nursing our drinks (I don't drink that much, never have and still don't).
The Hand of Fate?
There was an Argentine tango exhibition which was a regular feature of the floor show and the pair was really, really good. After they were done, it was announced during the lull that the man was going to pick one of the customers with whom to do a tango. The announcer reassuringly said the man, Joaquin, would show the lady what to do and guide her through the dance. As he went around the room I noticed no other Chinese woman there. Perhaps, for some perverse reason, he stopped at our table and picked me because of this? I demurred but he insisted, saying he would help me along. To my horror, he signaled for the same music, and asked me "Do you remember the steps and movements that you have been closely watching just now?"
"Some but how could you even notice? Why choose me" I stammered. Duh, I thought.
"I saw you watch intently, moving your fingers to follow our movements, as if you were studying the tango we were doing, seemingly committing it to memory, so I want to find out how you can move. Only those who really love the tango would bother to pay the kind of attention the way you did. Don't worry, we will start very slowly, as if in slow motion and I will guide you" he assured me.