Stephanie's Hotel Hooup

My wife and I have been married for about 3 years. We're both in our mid-thirties, very active, love to travel, meet new people and experience the world. I met her while traveling overseas, and life with her has been a constant adventure. She is to me the epitome of adventure - fun loving, artistic, gregarious, having seemingly experienced everything in the world already but always looking for something unexplored. I'm talking about seeing the world and life in general, but also sexually.

We both love sex, and she had a very active past before meeting me. Her past was always a puzzle to me, and I loved bringing it out of her. She was reluctant to give me too much, maybe out of fear that I would judge her for being promiscuous. But I loved every slutty detail she ever told me, too turned on by what I heard to be concerned with judgement. I would ask her questions like, "How many partners have you been with?" or "Have you ever had sex in public?" Maybe all the details would bother me someday, but I'm too freaking turned while hearing it.

I asked her once while cuddling in bed, "Who was your best lover?"

She replied, "I enjoy making love to nobody more than I do to you." Her sentiment was sweet, but really I was looking for more. I wanted to know who fucked her the best, who drove her wild, who made her cum the most.

"Yes, but who before me? Who was the best?"

She replied, "Hmm, like most skilled? Probably a guy that I dated when I lived in California. Charles. He used to play professional basketball, so he was very coordinated and in really good shape."

My heart stopped and my cock, which she was softly playing with, got instantly hard as a rock. "Wait," I said. "You dated a professional basketball player? Who?!!" I wasn't surprised. She could get any man. She was petite, at 5'2", but had a curvy athletic build. She had reddish hair, a big round muscular ass, full yet perky D cup breasts, and toned abs, arms and legs.

"Well he was a former professional player, at the time. But still in very good shape," she said as she gave my dick a squeeze. She must have noticed the effect this tidbit of info from her past had on me. She told me his name and who he used to play for, but it didn't register, maybe someone that an avid follower of sports might know, but nobody I had ever heard of. I wanted to google him and see what he looked like. She started slowly stroking my hard cock.

"Was he black?" I asked. For some reason that detail mattered. It helped me piece together who he was, what he looked like, how he was built - details that got my hormones raging.

She chuckled as she said, "Yes."

"That's so hot," I whispered to her as I began thrusting my dick in her hand wrapped around my shaft.

She laughed again, probably a bit embarrassed but also a bit proud of herself. "Why is that hot?"

"Are you kidding me?! It's hot that you were with a professional athlete, someone in such good shape. And even hotter that he was BLACK!" I said.

"Why is that hotter?" she asked. I couldn't tell if she really didn't get it or if she just wanted me to admit things that weren't easy to admit.

"Because first of all, it's kinda scandalous. Taboo." I knew she was very open minded and liberal, so it wasn't scandalous in her circles, but understood that historically it has been taboo. "That makes it hotter. It's also hot that he was in such great form. Black men are known for being athletically built. Stronger. More stamina. Bigger overall. Bigger dicks..." I stopped thrusting on that note, pausing, hoping for some kind of affirmative response.

"Yep, he was all those things," she said, slowly squeezing my dick again. I pounced on her, unable to control my lust. I kissed her ear and rubbed her mound through her panties. She moaned and put lifted herself to put pressure against my hand. "Wow you really like the idea!" she teased me.

"How big was his dick?" I needed to know.

"Big!"

"Yes, but how big?"

"Huge!"

"How huge?" I wasn't going to let her be vague. I needed details.

"Well I don't know how many inches, if that's what you're interested in." She stopped stroking my penis and let go of it to hold up her hands, as if she were telling a story about a fish. "About this big," she said as she held her hands what looked to me like 10 inches apart.

"How thick was he?" I asked.

"Wow you really are interested in him, aren't you?" she teased me.

"Um, it's hot to think of you getting fucked by a really big dick." I paused my speech as I continued to kiss her neck, ear and mouth. I pulled down her panties with both hands, bringing them down past her knees and off over her feet. I got into position between her legs, lowered my head down to her pussy, looked up at her and said, "I want you to be pleasured. It turns me on to know you were fucked well." I then buried my mouth into her clit. She grabbed my hair with both her hands, tilted her head back, closed her eyes and moaned as I licked her.

After she came, I brought my cock up to her soaking pussy, paused with its head right at her opening, thought briefly about all the dicks that had been in that same spot, particularly the big black dick that gave her the best fucking she's ever had. I plunged into her and came within a matter of moments. I was so turned on and couldn't hold it in anymore.

Afterwards, I lied next to her, still turned on, not satisfied. Perhaps learning more would satisfy me.

"Did you guys fuck a lot?" I asked.

"Why are you so curious? she asked with a smile.

"I don't know. I guess a black professional athlete is the peak of male physicality, the height of masculinity. It's like me fucking Ms. America and telling you she was the best lay of my life!"

"Except she wouldn't be. I am!" she said confidently.

"Yes, you are. And you met your equal with a big black basketball player with a big black dick."

"Are you jealous? Threatened?" she said with a playful accusatory tone.

I was both of those things. Definitely. I wanted to be him. I wanted to experience her as he did. "A little," I lied. "Not that I think I am not good for you."

"I want you more than I ever wanted him, trust me. It's much deeper emotionally with you and that makes it more satisfying," she tried to assuage my fears. I didn't care. I wanted to be that for her physically, not emotionally, and I knew I couldn't be.

"So...did you fuck a lot?"

"Haha. Yes, whenever we saw each other. And we dated for about a year, sooo..."

"Well I hope he knows how lucky he is!" I said, not only to have her so many times, but to be who he is with the genes that he was endowed with.

"Was. His luck ran out. He lost me, if you hadn't noticed." We kissed some more as she put her arms around my neck.

"Did you use protection?"

"Geez," she giggled. "I was on the pill. Any other curiosities?"

"So no condom?"

"No condoms."

"Where did he come, usually?"

"Always inside of me." She had mentioned early on about hating condoms but using them as necessary, which I had figured meant she always used them with all her partners. Apparently not with him.

"Did he cum a lot?" It was an unnecessary question but yet I was still so curious about every detail.

"Why do you care?! You seem very interested in him." I paused, waiting for her to answer. "Yes, a ton!" I got hard again, thinking about her pussy full of a black man's giant cumload. I lunged at her again, without waiting for permission or giving her warning, and stuck my dick right into her pussy which I had cum in a few moments before.

After round two, she laughed and smiled at me. "I've never seen you like this! You really like the idea of me and Charles fucking."

"Yes, I do, oddly. I am happy that you were so pleased, sexually, and got to experience that."

--

Over the next few weeks we fucked a lot more than normal. We were both charged, sexually. Sometimes we returned to conversation about Charles, sometimes we just fucked and got lost in desire for each other.

"Are you ever still in contact with him?" I asked.

"No. Haven't heard from him in years. I mean, we're friends on Facebook, as you saw, but he's not active on it." She had shown me his picture on Facebook. Definitely physically impressive, but had aged quite a bit. He had a wife and kids. His wife was white and cute, built much like Stephanie, actually. I guess he has a type!

"What would you do if you bumped into him again?" I asked.

"What do you mean, what would I do?"

"I mean, would you talk to him? Would you kiss him? Would you fuck him?"

"Fuck him? He is happily married. As am I! And I just don't fuck people I bump into!"

"Would you think about it?" I smiled at her, letting her know I was playing with her.

She blushed. "Well I would definitely feel awkward around him, especially if you are there, considering we keep talking about him!" After a pause she asked, "What do you think he would say if he knew we kept talking about him and he knew you were asking about his DICK!"

I felt a little humiliated at this point. I realized I had shown a lot of interest in another man's dick. What would win inside me, shame or lust? "Well to be fair, I am not interested in his dick by itself, but his dick inside of you."

"You keep telling yourself that!" she teased. She was right though. I was interested in it. Why did it turn me on so much? Why was I focusing on him so much? She knew from previous conversations that interracial porn was among my favorite porn categories. I wondered if she understood why. I wondered if I understood why.

Later that night, as we were rolling around and kissing, I got brave and said, "If you do ever run into him again...and want to fuck him...you have my permission."

She moaned and said, "But I don't want to fuck him. Only you."

"Well, just hypothetically I mean, if the situation is right and you have the chance... you can go for it, and I won't be upset. I just want to know about it."

"If anything, I'd want you to participate," she counter proposed. But I didn't want to participate. It would be like showing up to play tee-ball with two major leaguers. I just wanted to hear all about it, or even better, to watch.

"I just would want you two to do your thing, like the good ole days, and let me be a fly on the wall."

"You want me to tape it for you?" I am glad she was at least playing along with my fantasy, for now.

"Yes, record it. Tell me about it later. Let me watch. Whatever."

"You'd want to sit there watching, like a weirdo?" That was a bit harsh, I thought, but accurate.

"Umm, I think so," I said.

"Well that might be a little weird. For all of us. But I'd be happy to tell you about it afterwards," she smiled at me.

"Every detail?" I begged.

"Every detail," she said, comfortingly.

I gave her an evil grin and said, "You know, it doesn't have to be Charles. Hypothetically, it could be...anyone." I dove in and kissed her lovingly, tying to soften the weirdness of my idea.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...hypothetically, if you have an opportunity with someone else, you can fuck that person. I mean, if you tell me about it."

"Really?" she asked in a puzzled way.

"I'm just fantasizing," I said.

"Hum, okay, if we're just fantasizing, anyone?"

"Well...not just anyone. I big black athlete, I mean."

"I still don't understand why you care if he is big and black and athletic."

"I just want you to get the best fucking. I am thinking about your well being here."

"I am not sure that you are," she said. "I think this is just as much about your wellbeing as mine." She paused, looking for the words. "You're getting off to the idea of this black guy just as much as I am!" She wasn't wrong.

"Probably," I admitted. "I get pleasure in knowing you're pleasured." I looked at her for some kind of acknowledgment, but I just got a serious look in return. "Have you ever heard the word 'cuckold'?"

"No. What's that?"

I sat up. "A cuckold, ahem, is a man who derives pleasure from his wife being so-called 'unfaithful', or who encourages his wife to sleep with other people."

"Like a swinger?" she asked.

"Well, no. Swingers both sleep around with their partner's awareness. In a cuckold situation, it's just the woman who fucks other people."

"How do you know about this? Is this what you want?"

"It's just a fantasy. I've come across it on the internet, in porn. Videos of men watching their wives with another man."

"Why do you men like weird stuff like this?" I felt the sting again that she thought it was weird. Admittedly, it was a bit weird. But also a turn on, I can't lie.

"I don't know...but the 'other man' is often black, in porn and in fantasy. He is more masculine and superior to the husband in every possible physical way. More muscles, taller, leaner, bigger dick, more semen... And he pleasures the wife in a way the husband can't. And all parties are satisfied."

"Huh. Not sure if I am onboard with this fantasy. Seems wrong or weird to cheat like that."

"Well it's not cheating, per se. Nobody is doing any sneaking around," I say to defend the idea. "It's a pretty common fantasy, from what I can tell. Here, look." I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and did a google image search for "cuckold." I scrolled through dozens of thumbnails of beautiful white women on their knees servicing a humongous dick, most often black, while their husband looked on. Sometimes they were getting their pussies stretched. In a few the husbands were licking where the man had just cum, or sucking the cock of the dominant man, himself.

"This turns you on?" she asked surprisingly.

"Yes, just about all of it makes my dick jump. And the thought of you fucking Charles or some other large black man has the same effect. What about you?"

"Does it turn me on? The idea of having sex with someone else doesn't, really. But seeing these muscular men with big dicks is... um, hot, I guess."

"Do you see one you like?" I asked.

She scrolled down a few times, briefly perusing. She opened one of a white woman with black stockings, who lied on her back with her legs up. A black man was in front of her with his long dick half inside her, filling and stretching her. Her husband was by her side, holding her hand and caressing her nipple. "That one is hot," she said quickly.

"Yes, I agree," I said. "I can imagine you in her place."

"Well you can fantasize about whatever you want, I suppose. If it helps you get hard to imagine me fucking a black man, be my guest." She then leaned in for a kiss and fell on top of me. We fucked without saying another word about it.

--

And that's how my wife became aware of my cuckold fantasies. And how I became fully aware of them, as well. It was something I didn't fully understand, but needed to explore. I never guessed how I would eventually get that chance.

From that point on, Stephanie occasionally teased me for being gay for black guys, poking fun at my interest, or obsession. I didn't feel gay, but the teasing always made me instantly aroused. Once at the mall we saw an interracial couple - a young hot, curvy blonde girl with a well-built black guy, about a foot taller than her. She was wearing yoga pants that showed every crack and curve. And a sweater that didn't hide her sweater puppies. Delicious. And he was wearing trendy tapered grey sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt. His package was prominent. His shirt fit his muscles well. When Stephanie spotted them, she just gave me a nudge and pointed with her eyes at them, then a smiling tease at me. She didn't need to point them out to me. I had spotted them as soon as we walked in. I respected that young blonde girl. Good for her, I thought. I briefly imagined him inside of her, any of his thick digits inside any of her cracks and openings... "Stop, you're staring!" Stephanie pointed out.

Perhaps I was, but hopefully not too obviously. She looked down at my jeans, and let out an embarrassed laugh. I guess something was obvious. My erection, which arose way too easily. "Come on... you're incorrigible!" She took my hand and led me out of the mall to our car. We got into our seats, she smiled at me widely, kiss me, and put her hand on my cock. She unzipped my jeans and gave my dick some much needed breathing room. She started stroking, right there in the parking garage. I don't know if she was turned on also, or if she just felt sorry for me and wanted me to have a release. "What am I going to do with you, huh? And your obsession for black guys with white girls?"

"You're going to help me," I said, and I pushed her face down to my dick. She took me in her mouth. This was so hot. She'd never blown me in public. But still, instead of being content with this situation, I wanted to imagine the blonde girl doing the same to the black guy. I wanted to imagine Stephanie doing it to the black guy. "Do you think she blows him like this?" I asked as I pumped into her mouth.

She pulled me out of her mouth, kept stroking, licked the side of my shaft and said, "It would be a shame if she didn't." She put me back in her mouth and gave a few more sucks before releasing again. "I can go find her, ask her, and tell there's a couple people willing to help out." She put my head back in her mouth and pumped a few more times.

"A couple of people?" I asked.

"Yep," she sucked my dick for a few seconds between each phrase. "Me....and you..." She pulled me out, looked up at me, and I came onto her nose, eye brow and forehead.

We drove home without saying another word. My stomach ached and my cock twinged at the knowledge that my wife finally admitted she wanted to suck another man's cock, and also accusing me of wanting the same.

--

A few months later, Stephanie and I were traveling and staying at a hotel in Washington, DC. We traveled frequently for work, and loved the time away and change of scenery. It also always boomed our sex life, as we felt more adventurous and had more time for each other outside of our routine grind back at home.

Late in the afternoon, we decided to go for a swim in the hotel outdoor pool. There were a few kids playing on one side of the pool, otherwise we had the place to ourselves. We swam together, then lied out in the sunshine to relax. Stephanie was wearing a bikini, as she always does when swimming. She filled it out perfectly. Her perky tits really looked great. Such a sexy body. Flat stomach, hips, full ass, muscular legs. Her hard work from yoga and spin sessions were really showing. I was proud of her and completely satisfied by her gorgeous looks and physique. She likes to lie in the sun on her stomach, which really puts her big ass on display. The curve up her legs, the bump, and quick drop off to the small of her back and tiny waist really was a sight to behold.

While we were laying there, our skin bare to the strong DC sun, our eyes protected by sunglasses, a man walk in the pool area. A black man, about 30 years old. He was tall, maybe 6'2"ish. Athletic build. He walked over to one of the empty pool chairs and dropped off his stuff. I was trying to not stare at him through my sunglasses, or at least not get caught staring. Stephanie was not facing him, so didn't notice him walk in. I watched him take his shirt off and remove his shoes. He was only left with a pair of swim shorts. He was built well. Big thick arms and shoulders. Six pack abs. I could see his strength all the way down his quads, calves and to his feet. So much muscle. Not a blemish or sign of hair, aside from the short shaved hair on his head. He was handsome, I must admit.

He jumped in the water, which caused a splashing sound. Stephanie woke up out of her sunny slumber, realizing the splash was too big for one of the kids, who had all left by now. She changed positions, rolling over and sitting up. She took a drink of water, and looked out at the pool. I was watching her, waiting for a reaction. She was just quietly watching him swim, not paying too much attention, but at least curious enough to observe him.