Being a black family living in a mainly white neighborhood can sometimes be a pain. They are all damn hypocrites. Sometimes we are invited to social events, but generally, it is easy to tell we are barely accepted. The main reason for inviting us was that they want to appear socially correct.
There is one guy though, Pete, that sometimes actually talks with me, but he is a real dork. I believe the only reason is that it is because no one else cares for him. We happen to work at the same company and somehow, he finds it to be some kind of bond between the two of us. Even if he is a rather high-level manager, I am not much above the level of an assistant.
A few times we have invited each other for barbecues. My wife cannot for the life of it understand why I have accepted to go to their place and eat. She understands even less how I could invite them in return.
The simple reason why is because of Pete's wife Ellen. She is definitely the most gorgeous woman in the neighborhood. No one would ever disagree with that. She is tall, blond, with a fantastic set of boobs and a waist so thin you can reach your hands around it. The bottom half is as good with a firm bubble butt ass, and shapely legs going on forever. She is always dressed sexy and with high heels to accentuate her long legs. She is a housewife and most of the time she is working on her suntan or working out at the gym. Pete has told me that 90% of her time she spends on her looks. At home, she is almost impossible, and he has even hired a cleaner to take care of the house.
Ellen has only one drawback. She is a first-class bitch. She is so bad that if you look up the word bitch in a dictionary you will find a picture of Ellen. Sometimes I do not understand how on earth Pete could marry such a lady. But then again taking one look at her you knew why. Why she married him is also easy to understand. He has money to support every whim she might have, and she has him doing everything she might ask of him. Sometimes, seeing how she is leading him around by the nose, I can almost feel sorry for the poor bastard. Even if he is one of the whiniest persons I have ever met. To say the least they are a very odd couple together.
But having them for dinner or going to their place gives me at least the opportunity to admire Ellen. I suspect that my wife guessed it is the real reason, but she has never said anything about it. But I have heard Ellen complain to Pete that they are socializing with black people, and she does not like it.
One warm summer evening they were over for dinner. After eating Pete and I sat outside in the garden having a cold beer. Ellen had in her usual rude way declared earlier that she was tired and had gone home. I sat there with Pete and hoped he should leave also as soon as he had finished his beer. There was no reason I wanted him around as his wife had left. It had been very well worth the effort. It was hot and Ellen had been wearing a tight-fitting short summer dress. It had a low-cut front to give you a spectacular view down between her swelling boobs. Every time she sat down and crossed her legs her dress had hiked up high, showing off her smooth bare thighs. I could tell she knew the effect she had on me, and I suspected she liked as hell to tease me whenever she could. I believe it was the reason she never forbade Pete to meet me again. Besides being a bitch, she was a real cock-tease as well.
I knew since before that Ellen rarely allowed Pete to have sex with her. She was gifted with a body made for sex. I was surprised when one day Pete told me that she had been a virgin when they married. She did not use any contraceptives and she was terrified of the idea of getting pregnant. She thought it would ruin her looks. The only time she allowed sex what either when she had her period or immediately afterward. She was adamant they only did it with a condom. When they had sex, it had to be only straight missionary style. He was hardly allowed to do anything more than jack off his cock in her pussy. She rarely let him touch her pussy with his hands or taste it. Neither had she ever done anything more than jacked his cock with her hands. He had pleaded and begged with her until she grew tired and gave in. She allowed him to caress her fantastic boobs but rarely to kiss them. She looked always annoyed with him if he played with them too much.
Overall, it was a bit sordid to hear about his sex life but usually, I let him tell what he wanted. In a way, I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard. It must be hell to have a wife that hot and not be allowed to have decent sex with her.
This evening was no different. Pete complained as usual about his wife after she had left. We were alone outside with our beers, and he began pouring out his frustration. In a way, I was like a counselor for him. But this evening it became a bit different. He told me he had found a way to get his revenge on her. I knew since before that Ellen sometimes liked a stiff whiskey before going to bed. Pete had a long history of insomnia and often he used strong sleeping pills. One evening he had gotten the idea of slipping one into Ellen's glass of whiskey and she had passed out completely. Pete bragged that nothing he tried could even make her stir. He had dragged her into bed and fucked her for over an hour. He had even turned her around and taken her from behind, something he would never be allowed to do if she had been awake.
I got a strange feeling when he told me this. Partly I felt pity for him, being reduced to drug his own wife, partly I felt fascination about what he had done. I asked him if it was safe to mix his sleeping pills with whiskey. Pete said he had tried it four times already and she did not seem the least bit hurt by it. The best part was that she did not seem to realize she had passed out in the evening. When she woke up the following morning, she went about her business as usual.
During the week after I thought about the sordid story that Pete had told me. In a way, he was sick doing it, but it was also very intriguing. As the days passed an idea evolved in my mind on how I could exploit the dark secret Pete had confided in me.
A few weeks later we met by coincidence on the street, and I mentioned it was long since we had dinner together. He asked if we should come over the day after for dinner, he only had to talk with his wife first to see if it was OK. Pete is so damn predictable.
The following evening, we went to their house. Perhaps it was my imagination, but Ellen seemed to be more sexily dressed than usual. Also, as usual, she sat opposite me at the table. I could see down her low-cut front every time she leaned forward to put the fork in her mouth.
