Months of contemplating and fantasizing about being ravished by a black man, and teasing black men, had made me ready to consider taking the next step. My husband Bob had got me into this. He had become a fan of interracial pornography and spent a lot of time online. Looking at it online was then not enough for him so he arranged for black men on a couple of occasions to fondle my breasts. Bob took pictures while the black men groped me; I know it turned me on, and I guess it was a big turn on for him too.
All of this got me thinking about actually having sex with a black man; but as a white wife in the suburbs I wasn't quite sure how to make it happen, or if I could go through with it. After all, I was a white southern girl born and bred. Hell, I wasn't even sure that an attractive black man would want me. My body isn't as tight as it once was, but my chest is much larger. Now I have 44DD breasts, I'm not very tall, and I am a little on the chubby side, I am completely proportional for a chesty woman. Large breasts have over men, of that I am quite aware. Bob's favorite sexual position was with me on top, so he could look up at my large swinging tits while we fucked.
My big break in my effort to attract a black lover came when I took a job at a collection agency in town. As a part of the training they were going to send me to classes being held in Columbia, South Carolina. The classes would begin at 10AM on Monday, and end at noon on Thursday; I would have to spend three nights at a hotel there in Columbia.
Early morning the day of my departure Bob took me down to the office where I met the other new hires. We were taking a company car for the trip. When we got there I was a bit surprised, and Bob looked sick to his stomach. The two co-workers that I was going with were both black men! Bob put my bags in the trunk of the Ford Taurus, and asked if I would be alright.
I assured him I would be fine. "Sure honey, I will see you in a couple of days."
He left, and I could tell he was worried. I'm still not sure if he was worried about my safety, or that I might let some of my inner slut out. Admittedly, it was an odd situation, a white mom in her thirties spending the week with two black men in their twenties.
The three of us properly introduced ourselves once we had gotten in the car. "I guess you know my name is Melissa." I went on and told them where I lived, and about my kids, and about my husband and his job.
Terry was tall, in shape, good looking, and probably out of my league. "I'm married too," he said. He then told us about his wife and kids.
Jamel briefly introduced himself last. "Single and no kids that I know about." Terry was not very attractive. He had a broad nose with flared nostrils, very dark skin, razor bumps, and a thin scar on his forehead. He was less than six feet, and weighed about 230 pounds.
Once we had chatted for about 30 minutes they put an urban music station on that played mostly rap music. I cannot tell you how much I hate rap music. I had brought a book along so I tried to get some reading done.
We got to the hotel and didn't even have time to check in. We headed straight for the conference room for our first class. The rest of the day was boring so I can skip the details. I checked in to the hotel at about 4:30, on the way up to the room I passed Terry and Jamel and they invited me to join them for dinner. I agreed.
I decided that I was going to look good, so I spent a lot of time bathing, shaving my legs, pits, and pussy. I put on a light pink tight knit top, and a short straight black skirt. I added black thigh high hose and black sandals with a medium heel. After some attention to my hair and a good dose of make-up I think I looked pretty good for a suburban mom in her 30's.
The hotel had a pretty good restaurant and bar so we just decided to eat there. I had garlic chicken breast, and Jamel had ribs, and Terry had a burger and fries. After he was done eating Jamel took off and Terry asked if I wanted to have a drink at the bar. Terry ordered a beer, and I had my first whiskey sour. We got to talking and I was amazed at how much fun we had talking. I wouldn't have thought we would have anything in common but we talked and talked and had a great time. Of course, the half a dozen whiskey sours may have been a bit of a social lubricant. We talked about all kinds of stuff for hours. Terry said he was an avid fisherman and that he kept a boat at the lake. I asked him if he would take me fishing sometime and he said he would love to.
"It's getting late." Terry said. "Do you want me to walk you back to your room Melissa?"
"Sure"
On the way back to the room Terry asked if I wanted to see a picture of his boat. I agreed, so we stopped at his room. We went into the room, and Terry opened his briefcase to get the picture.
"Wow, Terry that is a nice boat." I don't know the slightest thing about boats but I could tell it was an expensive one.
