Disclaimer: This story contains adult content and must not be viewed if you are not 18 years of age or older. The story features a theme of interracial sex between a Hotwife, and her black lover. If you find this theme offensive please read no further.
This is true story about me, Pam a longtime elementary school teacher. I am a happily married 45 year old mother and wife. I don't have a supermodel's figure as some stories here depict but I am proud of my appearance and have worked hard to maintain it. John and I have been married for over 23 years and have three children, all are now grown and living on their own. We are empty nesters. I am a real person who acted upon some fantasies that have been hidden for many years. We have no regrets for doing this and found it to be exciting and adventurous as well as re-energizing to our marriage.
For the record, I am considered to be attractive, 5'7", 110 pounds with shoulder length brown hair and can wear a 4-6 size dress. My husband John is slightly older at 50, average height and a retired fireman. He likes his beer and is now slightly overweight but not fat by any means. He has been blessed in many ways and his cock is not too bad, boasting a 7 inches on erection day. John loves to share his fantasies while making love and one he especially likes is for me to be taken by a black man with a big black dick, while he is at my side holding my hand.
It was always arousing to humor his idiosyncratic fantasies as part of our foreplay. I thought it kept our sex life interesting and stopped us from getting bored with each other. Not that we were too conservative anyway, both of us enjoy the extra marital flirtation here and there. However, this fantasy was especially arousing for me as I wanted an even more provocative position with me being pleasured by two black men at the same time. I had told John years ago that I was curious about being the center of attention with several men but we were too busy with child rearing and never acted on it. Last weekend, an opportunity presented itself quite by accident and I grabbed it; John however was not there. He was out of town on business but rather than waiting until he returned, I strayed; it was an accident that just happened.
The principal at my school is a black man in his late 50's, a prior football player and now coach named Dorsey. He loves to flirt with the women, and has been flirting with me for months. I had read stories about white slut women who liked black men and how they dressed in anklets and toe rings. I bought a zebra colored dress just to tease Dorsey and just by a twist of fate was wearing it that day to school. It was obvious that he liked married white women and he came on to me much more directly when I wore the dress. I didn't mind as I thought that he did it with everyone, and it didn't hurt that he was big, strong and quite good looking. I actually found his "bull watching his herd" demeanor arousing, and what John did not know that on many of nights in the heat of passion, I was thinking about Dorsey taking me in his strong arms. It always took me to sexual euphoria during our lovemaking.
One of our younger teachers accepted a position with another school and Friday was her last day. Everyone was invited to happy hour to say goodbye and to see her off. A few teachers showed up and of course our principal. Everyone was mingling and talking about things we had in common—school. The party was winding down but not before I had a few Cosmopolitans and Dorsey a few Black Velvets. Dorsey came up to me and began to flirt again, saying how he liked my dress and asked if I was making a statement. He asked what I was doing this weekend for fun while making his sexual innuendos. I shared with him that John was out of town and that it was a time to let my hair down—of course kidding more than anything—who ever heard of an elementary school teacher letting her hair down: pulling it out but not letting it down. Dorsey brought up the "Suburban Boston teacher who was having sex with a student ... allegedly seducing the boy, plying him with booze and having sex with him on kitchen floors." He said why would white women want that (implying that it was always white women) when they could have real men anytime they wanted? He said there are cases that he was aware of in which women and men in the same school had affairs and no one ever suspected anything—he shared with me that when he was younger he hit on everything but that now that he was older, he only hit on the pretty white ones. He laid on the charm as he touched my back and rubbing my arm. He was trying to flatter me and it felt great.
His talk reminded me of the story of the old bull and the young bull grazing on the ridge looking down over the herd, when the young bull said, "let's run down and fuck one of the Herefords." The old bull said, "slow down youngster, why don't we walk down and fuck them all." We were his herd and he watched it like the old bull.
Anyway, the party was breaking up and Dorsey asked me if I would like to go to dinner at one of his favorite R&B night spots, Jazzies. It had good food and a live band after 9:00 PM. I said I couldn't because John was going to call and I should be getting home. He insisted and said call him on the cell and tell him a few are seeing the school teacher off with a bang. I said I would try, but needed let John know that I would be staying out longer. If I could I would stop by, just for just dinner. We took separate cars and I called John on the way. John said, "this is great Pam, you never go out, have a good time and don't do anything that I wouldn't do with you." Business called and he had to run. He promised to call first thing in the morning after his coffee.
I parked at Jazzies but was afraid to go in, so I just sat there for a minutes that seemed like an hour. With a lot of self talk I got the courage to go in. I fixed my makeup, straightened my dress and lightly brushed my hair. Inside, I noticed it had a lot of people, mostly blacks with blacks but there were others too, it was a mixed crowd. I even saw several white girls with black men. I thought to myself how naughty they looked dressed so slutty. I scanned the room and saw Dorsey having a drink and sitting in a small booth in a secluded part of the room. He got up quickly and offered me a seat as he slid in next to me. He ordered more drinks and I was really beginning to feel it and he knew it. He made the first move with his hand sliding along my thigh. I pushed him away saying that I was married and asked what about your wife, where is she? He told me she was at home but that they were not very intimate anymore.
I broke the mood by excusing myself to go to the little girl's room but as I pulled my dress up it hit me that John and I had sex last night, and part of my fantasy commitment was to wear a g-string panties, a see through bra, and a garter belt to school. I had totally forgotten that I was wearing such a sexy under carriage. I looked at my hair, put on some red lip gloss and powdered my nose and pussy. I was feeling amorous now but still flirting more than anything. I didn't even think about what I was getting myself into, or more likely what was going to get into me. We were just having fun like school kids on a date.
When I returned to the table my drink was refreshed and I gulped it down and he ordered me another. I told him I had enough but he said nonsense we had not even eaten yet. He moved closer and began rubbing up and down my silky nylon clad legs. At first it was just a friendly stroking and I would gentle push him away, but he inched his way up under the hem of my skirt until he touched the garter belt fasteners on my nylons—he looked at me inquisitively and smiled. I was getting turned on but knew I should quit. Luckily the waitress was back with our meals and another drink. That broke the mood and we quickly ate our light affair. It was his turn to go to the little boy's room while the Jazz/R&B band warmed up. I was so relaxed that I got startled when he returned lightly stroking my back and neck. This time I didn't resist, the drinks had taken affect and what harm could a little petting and flirting do?
My black Adonis asked me to dance and at 6'3" 240 pounds, he towered over me but as I looked deeply in his eyes, I felt strangely safe in his arms. He stared down at me holding his gaze a little longer than normal and I melted into his clutches as the next slow song began. I closed my eyes and was swept away in a wave of intense feelings, he had me and I was hooked. He began to rotate his pelvic into me and I felt him grow under our embrace. He felt like he was huge, massive. It felt like a baseball bat and I said is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? I began to get frightened because I knew he was not going to let me go until he had fully known me in the biblical sense. As the dancing continued and the drinks began to work, he took greater and greater privileges with me right on the dance flow. He began telling me how good I looked and started caressing my back and shoulders.