Prom queen, and head cheerleader aren’t necessarily synonyms for slut, and whore, but Naomi was the kind of girl who’d try anything at least once back in high school. By the time I met, and married her she’d taken on a Princess Diane facade. Or at least I hoped it was a facade, because in bed she could still teach a professional hooker a thing or three.
To be fair, it wasn’t her idea to bring outsiders into our bed, it was mine. I’m a visually stimulated person, and every time we made love half of the fun was watching her enjoy whatever I was doing with her pristine flesh. Invariably my mind began to wonder what Naomi would look like sucking, or fucking another man, or even another woman. So after six years of marriage, and two children I was fantasizing that it was someone else’s cock she was sucking on, or shoved up her moist clasping slit or tight dimpled alabaster ass, or between her firm healthy breasts when we made love.
My opening gambit took place two hours after the New Year bit the old year out of existence while we were staying at the Hilton. I’d managed to tie Naomi’s four limbs to the four corners of our hotel bed with my silk ties, and placed a sleeping mask for a blindfold over her eyes in preparation for a little teasing bondage scene. Naomi had always loved the feeling of being taken against her will that the ties would afford her, but the blindfold was something new entirely. And when she questioned its use.
“I want you to pretend that a stranger, and not me is availing themselves of your luscious ripe naked body, Naomi. He’s stolen you away from the party we just came from because your beauty has enchanted his soul, and fired his lust to the point that he can live another minute without ravishing you. He’s got me tied, and gagged in the chair next to the bed, and all I can do is watch.”
With the stage now set I tip toed to the door that lead out of the room, and let Monty, the night bellhop who had been waiting out in the hallway into our room. Monty’s the kind of guy who tries to emulate his heroes, and he’s a big fan of Shaft. (The first one with Richard Roundtree in it, not the one staring Samuel Jackson in the latest update.) As he began to get undressed, I set up our video camera on the tri-pod and focused on the bed where my wife laid waiting.
Naomi was trembling, goose bumps honking up and down her flesh by the time Monty climbed into bed with her. His muscular black flesh like an impenetrable shadow loomed over her ceiling white toned body as he reached out, and drew his right hand gently over the top of her right foot first. His hand slipping upward, and inward caressed along the length of her lithe limb.
“Ooooo, that’s different,” Naomi groaned, and I shushed her by pressing a finger to her lips before returning to the camera.
We’d talked about favorite fantasies many times, and she knew about my wanting to see her having sex with a strange man for over a year now. But only recently had I learned of her darkest secret which was to be ravished by a swarthy brigand while I sat by and did nothing to stop them from fornicating. Content with the camera’s position, and settings I moved to the bedside, and put my head close to Monty’s.
“Now just pretend that I’ve let another man into our hotel room. A black stranger who told me earlier what a fine piece of ass I have for a wife, like that bell hop you were eyeing up and down in the lobby when we arrived.”
“Mmmmmmmmhmmmmm,” Naomi moaned as Monty slipped his middle finger in past the lips of her vagina to feel around in that warm wet hairy chasm.
