Mirror Mirror

I admit it...my husband has made me watch too much Stargate (SG-1). One of the most common themes is alternate universes. Of course, it is not a theory with which I am unfamiliar. Some of my favourite episodes of Star Trek centred on the same theme. And, of course, my honours high school physics touched upon Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

For me, one of my favourite fantasies is that somewhere out there is an alternate universe. In that universe, my hubby is a nasty, horny bastard that never tires of fucking my wet white pussy. You see after forty years of searching, I have found the perfect man. He is the strong, dependable type; always willing to take charge. Physically, he has everything I love most: dark, ebony skin; shining shaved head; with thick lips and broad nose. He also has a nice sized, uncut black cock and as my mama would say is 'built like a brick shithouse.'

Only one tiny problem. Over the past five years of being together and three of marriage, like too many couples, our sex life has gone down hill...rapidly. I am a highly sexed woman. OK, I admit it I am most likely a sex addict. I could happily fuck and suck several times a day. When we were first together, we did too. Although he never hit my record of eight times in one day, I will never forget the fun we had hitting five in Vegas. Now, I am lucky to enjoy that hot body that still makes me wet with lust every other week or fortnightly as they say over here in the UK.

I definitely am not getting nearly enough big black cock to keep me happy. But honestly, he is the only man I want. He really has spoilt me for all other men. So this truly is the absolute best fantasy of all. Him...but with a sex drive to match or exceed my own.

Since I once upon a time dabbled in Wicca, my favourite fantasy is that on one of many trips to the charity shops in our north London neighbourhood I happen upon this breath-takingly beautiful mirror. We have the perfect wall in our entry way that just begs for such a spectacular piece. I cannot take my eyes off of it. And even though, it is much more than I would normally spend, I know I simply have to have that mirror; even if it means that hubby took away my debit card...again.

When I get it home, I pull out the polishes and begin to lovingly restore its former glory. Then I notice a strange inscription at the bottom. I use an old tooth brush to gently remove layers of dirt until I can read its ancient words. Like the stepmother in Snow White, I stand before the mirror and halting mutter the ancient words there. There is a strange sense of de-ja-vu for just a moment. Then it is back to chores...and dread when I finally have to tell hubby how much I spent for this 'luxury.'

But when he comes home from a long day at work rather than noticing the laundry in the basket that I have not folded yet, he begins to nibble at my neck. He even randily suggests that we try to grab a 'quickie' while our daughter watches Peppa Pig and the dinner finishes off in the oven. My jaws, quite literally, drop. One of our biggest problems is that hubby likes to take his time and does not ever want to begin anything unless he has time to finish. Me...I love quickies. I enjoy just getting my rocks off and getting back to life.

He does not have to ask twice as we check once more that our daughter is glued to the forty-two inch television in the living room. We race up the stairs to our bedroom and barely have the door closed before we are tossing our clothes around the room. We do not even get totally naked, just from the waist down...enough to get the job done. We fuck like bunnies. I do not need a great deal of foreplay so I am cumming almost before he can even get that thick, black cock fully inside my wet cunt.

It does not last more than five minutes as we wildly kiss and fuck like a couple of teens afraid of getting caught in the back of dad's old Chevy. We both are sweaty and breathless when we finish, but I have to admit that one of my favourite fucks just got knocked off my top five list...although I would have to think later which one.

I make it back downstairs just as our daughter notices our absence and before the food burns in the oven. Dinner and the evening progress as normal; Leave It to Beaver in multi-colour. I slip upstairs after the dishes to settle our daughter. Jimmer-Jammers for all as we sing our song about 'fresh face, tooth paste, a tinkle and a hug.' I am definitely smiling and more relaxed than I have been in a while. Hubby's great fucking is all I need.

Our daughter is a bit more wound up than normal. It takes a couple more books and television shows to settle her this night. Hubby peaks in the door as she is finally going down. 'Damn, that child ain't asleep yet,' he curses. Looking me straight in the eyes, he winks, 'Daddy needs some Mommy time too, you know?'

It has been months, probably years, since we have fucked twice in the same day. But I am always up for more. I grow a bit impatient then. I could definitely use more of what I got earlier. I can hardly wait for her to drift off to dream land. When she finally does, I slip down stairs. I had thought about wearing something sexy, but too many 'not tonight's' over the past months had shaken my confidence. Instead I take the less risky path, simply going down in just my old cotton nightie.

Maybe I should have gone for sexy with high heels, I think later after two more large loads of his hot cum are boiling away inside my hot cunt. We did not even make it upstairs; instead christening our new couch with a double header. I might have climbed the stairs a little more slowly that night. After all, it had been a long time since my wet pussy got a work out like that.

If I thought the fun was over, I was wrong. The next morning as his mobile phone goes off just after five-thirty; hubby simply rolls me onto my back and mounts me again with that thick, hard cock. He lasts slightly longer than our quickie the afternoon before, but not so long that he is late for work.

I spend the whole day wondering what has gotten into my hubby. As I dust that mirror in the hall, it does not even occur to me that those words the day before held some magical power. I had always joked about sneaking some little blue wonder pills into his orange juice, but I had not done that. In the end, I figured why worry. After all, I had just gotten a whole month worth of fucking in about twelve hours. Something about not looking gift horses in the mouth came to mind.

But over the days ahead, it continued. That weekend, while our daughter spent the day with her aunt, we even broke five...seven to be exact. I wondered how long until we topped my record of eight great fucks in a day. When my husband was at work and our daughter was at nursery, it was hard for me not to wonder what was happening. But my confidence as a woman was returning. I was wearing sexier things around the house and especially to bed. I just had a better outlook on life. It was shocking the wonders that a lot of black cock could do...better than my Prozac for sure.

The thing is that I am not sure exactly how my fantasy ends. I know there are always trade offs. So do I finally figure out about the mirror? Do I try of all the fucking and sucking? Do I want to send my horny hubby back to his fridged wife or do we live happily ever after fucking our lives away? I wonder...