Of late, I have been complaining often and loudly about the increased number of ads on TV. My wife, helpfully points out that if I weren’t such a cheapskate I could pay for ad-free content. My rejoinder is that is that TV content is barely worth watching for free and that football games pause for ads anyway.

As an interesting sidelight to this situation I have noticed that, often, when a couple is featured in an ad the male is dark-skinned and handsome and the woman is white. The opposite seldom appears. This is a new standard, and for me a welcome, innovation.

One evening I wondered out loud whether, watching these couples, women of earlier generations felt they had missed out on the opportunity to sample a whole segment of potential sexual partners and mates. Were they happy with their pudgy white hubbies and vanilla sex lives?

“You read too many interracial sex stories on Lush,” she, again helpfully, pointed out. “And you may think you would like to be cuckolded, but you wouldn’t like it at all, trust me.

“The stories of basketball-player size black men with 10-12” cocks who can have a woman writhing in ecstacy for hours, fuck her several times per night and women who’s vaginas can take such a beating and come back for more, are the product of the fevered brains of frustrated, neurotic white men who can’t keep their wives happy.

“And you never read about the STD’s that these roving bulls would surely spread. I suggest that you stop drinking the ‘Kool-Aid’ and be satisfied with what you have. Besides, I have enough on my plate without another man making demands on me.”

Don’t get the wrong idea; my wife is a loving, caring partner and our thirty-plus years together have been great if vanilla. By that I mean sex is not a priority for her while I have been obsessed with sex my whole adult life.

Jane loves to cuddle and kiss. She gives great head and handjobs and she loves having her pussy played with and licked. She cums hard on my tongue or fingers; she has never refused to have sex with me, but she just can’t seem to cum from penetration and she doesn’t initiate sex.

My ego has suffered over that for years. Years ago I convinced her to try swinging a couple of times with poor results. And we had a mutual friend who we played with a few times. She played along but was clearly not addicted. His job took him away and she never hinted at trying again. I got the message.

She is right on one count; I have developed a fascination with white wives hooking up with well-hung black guys. I am convinced that they are better hung and more capable lovers than we whities are generally. And I’m jealous. Jane, of course, pooh-poohs it all and won’t even watch porn with me.

One day when I was particularly frustrated with life, I brought the subject up with a work friend of mine. He is African-American, a little younger than me, single and quite good looking. I have known him for several years and felt it was safe to raise racial stuff with him. We were having a beer after work at our local watering hole.

“Do you get a lot of white pussy thrown at you?” I asked. “White married pussy actually?” He often has a white woman with him at company social events.

“You cut directly to the chase don’t you? Why do you ask, has your wife been talking in her sleep?” Funny guy.

I had never spoken of my sexual frustration with anyone before, but somehow (maybe the beer talking) I opened up to Frank. He listened without commenting while I confessed my sense of inadequacy at not being able to make Jane cum on my cock. Finally I admitted to my fantasy of her fucking another guy.

“You think you could handle her having great sex, maybe better sex with another man, a black man? What if she gets addicted to black cock?”

“I don’t see her as the addictive type, and I don’t know if I would rather she go berserk or just say “meh”. But I would like to see what happens.” I was beginning to think that Frank might be interested. He had met Jane and they seemed to get along OK.

“Well, you are right; I do get a lot of married white pussy thrown at me, both by women and by husbands. But I don’t often catch it. I am very selective. In your case, I would not want our friendship to be lost because I fucked your sexy wife. I know you think she is immune, but stranger things have happened. I think you should leave well enough alone.”

We parted on that note. When I got home dinner was ready. We ate quietly chatting about mundane stuff until Jane asked about the boys having a few beers after work.

“It was just Frank and me,” I replied.

“What do you talk about when it’s just you two?”

I never know if she really wants to hear, so to make it interesting I said, “We discussed white wives who hit on him.” My heart was in my throat waiting for her reaction.

She paused for a bit, then replied, “Well, he’s a good looking guy. I am sure that lots of women are attracted to him. Does he have a harem of married women?” she asked sarcasticly.

“Apparently he does, though he says he is very selective. He doesn’t bed hop.”    

By this time we had finished eating. Jane rose and began clearing the table which is usually my job. I got up and helped. I filled the sink and began washing the dishes. Jane came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

“Did you talk about me? About how frigid I am?” She whispered in my ear and her hand slid down into my pants and cupped my junk. Her breath on my nape gave me goose bumps. “Does he think he could turn me into a black cock whore? Would I get a spade tattoo on my ankle for all of our friends to see?” My cock began to respond to her caress.

“We didn’t discuss anything like that and you know that I don’t think you are frigid. You just need the best, that’s me. But I could see that he would like the challenge. He thinks you are hot.” Her hand squeezed gently and I could feel my cock trying to escape its confines.

“You think his cock could push me over the line, make me his sex slave? Would you like that?” She licked my ear lobe. “Would you lick my pussy to get me ready for his big cock to stretch my open and fill me up? Would you guide him in?”

My cock needed to be let loose but my hands were stuck in dishwater and Jane seemed in no hurry to move it. It was torture. I couldn’t take any more. I quickly dried my hands and turned to face her. We kissed and then practically ran to the bedroom. I nearly tripped over my pants as I tried to strip while running.

She fell onto her back on the bed and I undid her shorts and yanked her panties off and buried my face in her crotch. Her pussy was wet and fragrant as I slid my tongue around her labia and touched it to her clit. Then she pulled me up for a kiss and I slid my raging cock into her. In a short time I felt my orgasm approaching and we came loudly together. I couldn’t believe it.

I waited for a couple of days to see if she would bring up what had happened. When she had not done so by the time Frank and I went for after-work beers again, I decided to tell him what had happened.

As before, he listened without comment until I asked what he thought of her cumming on my cock for the first time. He said, “See? Just the idea of a big black cock is improving your sex life. Imagine if I actually fucked her.” He laughed, making a joke of it but that is exactly what was on my mind.

“Would you be interested if she were willing to color outside the lines a bit?” I asked. My heart was beating rapidly, my brain in overdrive. “Do I really want to do this?” I wondered.

“You know it; she’s a good looking woman and I’d love to fuck her, but you had better be sure. I don’t do things half way. If you give me the go-ahead, I’ll put on a full court press. You really can’t go back, you know.”

When I didn’t demur, he said, “I think I can make some headway with her. You play golf on Sunday mornings don’t you? Will she be at home?” I nodded. “Then leave it to me, when you get home you will be a cuckold or well on the way.”

*

Jane often sleeps in on Sundays; John is away golfing and this is her special alone time. At 9 o’clock she was in her favorite silky pj’s enjoying her first cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. She slipped into one of John’s light jackets from the hall closet and went to see who was there.

She opened the door to the smiling face of John’s friend Frank. She remembered him from John’s work social events. He often had an attractive white woman on his arm. Today he wore a light blue tank top and tan running shorts. The colors nicely set off his brown skin and his lithe, muscular body.

“Hi Frank. John isn’t home right now, he’s out playing golf.”

“Oh darn, I was sure he invited me for coffee this morning. Sorry, I must have the wrong day.” She opened the door wider. She felt her nipples reacting to the cool air so she pulled the jacket closed.

“Well, there’s coffee on and he will be back later. Come on in.” She stood aside to let him pass; as he did his bare arm brushed against her lightly. “This is a strange coincidence,” she thought to herself, following him into the kitchen. “Have a seat.”

The kitchen was quite warm so Jane removed the jacket. Frank’s eyes homed in on her chest. She poured a cup of coffee for him. “How do you like it?” she asked him as she set it in front of him. She didn’t want to look down to see if her nipples were showing. She bet they were.

“Just the way it is is fine for me,” he replied, still looking directly at her chest. A warm flush went through her body and her nipples hardened more. She sat opposite him at the kitchen table while they exchanged pleasantries, then he looked intently into her eyes and said, “First, let me say I am very fond of John and want the best for him and for you as a couple. Second, he knows that I might come here this morning to chat with you. If that upsets you, I will go away and this never happened.” He waited for a response.

Jane simply nodded. “Where in hell is this going?” she thought.

“John tells me that you might be interested to try a little experiment. I came to volunteer my services to a friend in need. He is somewhat concerned about whether he is giving you everything that you need or want sexually.”

Jane started to speak but decided to wait him out before shutting him down and kicking him out. His voice was soft and melifluous, almost hypnotic. He reached across the table and placed his warm hand on hers.

“You may know that I am somewhat experienced in situations like this, but I am not a rampant cocksman. I am very selective in partners, I’m regularly tested and healthy. I find you very attractive and I know that you are very intelligent and don’t suffer fools gladly. Nor do I.

“What do you think, shall we talk some more? I will happily answer any questions you have.” Jane drew in a deep breath, trying to think what to say. His brown eyes were drawing her’s in but she was a little miffed at his arrogance. After a moment she said, “I know some of what John has told you. I am smart enough to know that my difficulty having orgasms when penetrated bothers him. He feels inadequate sometimes. He is not. He is everything I need in a partner and lover.

“He has gotten this idea that his cock in not big enough; I’m sure you know where he gets that. Again, not true, but he can become obsessed when he confronts a problem that he can’t solve. It grows out of proportion to reality in his mind.”

When Frank had put his hand on hers the nurse in her instinctively turned her palm up to clasp it. Now his fingers were lightly stroking her palm, along her fingers, and back. The sensation was not unpleasant, causing her nipples to harden again and a warm tingle in her pussy.

“FYI, I have not expressed any interest in a sexual experiment. I am quite content with my life and my marriage. I suppose you see me as a conquest.” She waited for Frank’s response.

“You are not a conquest, this is my chance to help a friend who is vexed by an issue; and to enjoy a beautiful woman in the bargain. It can be a one-time thing and we all move on with our separate lives, or a whole new world could open up for us to enjoy together.”

Jane expressed scepticism, “I seriously doubt that. If you think John is cuckold material you are wrong. He is an alpha male; he just gets carried away sometimes. He is getting older and feeling some insecurity. He may also be having some bi feelings. Have you considered that maybe he is interested in you?” She smiled a little smugly.

Frank stood up and came around the table. “Let’s talk about that. Can we move somewhere more comfortable?” He held out his hand.

Jane couldn’t help but notice the impression of his cock in his shorts and a small damp spot quite far down his thigh. When she stood, he took her in his arms and placed his lips on hers. Initially she pulled back, but then let him continue to kiss her. It felt strangely nice.

Gradually she started to kiss him back, even opening her mouth to let his tongue explore hers. “You have lovely soft lips,” she whispered, almost to herself. He kissed her again, pulling her close. Damn, you’re a good kisser,” she thought. “Did I say that out loud?” Frank just nodded.

She backed away and moved toward the den where she sat on the sofa waiting for her pulse to calm down. He stood before her, his crotch right at eye level. She asked, “Has John seen your ‘equipment’?”

“Not that I know of. Would you like to inspect the merchandise?” He chuckled, reaching for his waist band.

“Well, that would answer at least one of the relevant questions, I guess. It appears that you don’t like underwear; you are leaking a little.” She pointed at the spot. She thought, “This is getting out of hand quickly. I really should stop it.”

But she knew that she was more than a little intrigued and getting turned on by this handsome dark Apollo; plus her husband was clearly behind this visit. Before she could react, he stepped close to her and slid his shorts down, letting them slide to his ankles in a heap. Their knees were almost touching.

His cock was not hard, but was clearly engorged, hanging halfway to his knees and thick. Jane gasped; it was truly beautiful, uncut with a neatly shaved pubic area. The tip of his glans peaked out from under his foreskin with a small drop of precum on it. The urge to lean forward and lick it off was strong.

He stepped out of his shoes, kicked away his shorts, and pulled his shirt over his head. “This guy is an Adonis,” she thought. Then he straddled her legs. She looked up into his eyes as his hand gently caressed her head and urged her to lean forward. “Does this thing get much bigger?” she asked.

“Let’s find out. I think it might if you take your top off.” He cupped her breasts through her pj’s and pinched her nipples sending a thrill through her entire body.

“Jesus, I’m like a teenager,” she thought as she unbuttoned her top exposing her bare breasts to his hands. Usually she would lie back and enjoy having them sucked but she was mesmerized by the sight of his cock as it commenced to grow harder.

Her pussy was feeling hot and wet and starting to throb. “I think I have to touch this gorgeous thing, it is perfect. I hope John is prepared for this because I don’t think I’m stopping now.” She felt the thrill of doing somethiing taboo even if her husband had arranged it.

She slid her left hand under Frank’s cock cupping his heavy balls. She curled her right hand around his cock and lifted it toward her open mouth, pulling his foreskin back. His large cockhead popped fully out and right between her lips.

Frank cupped her bare breasts just as her lips touched his cock, making it jump in her hand. When he pinched her nipples again she actually came, a small tremor shook her body. She recovered quickly without removing her lips from his infernal machine, taking it as deep as she could.

Shortly, Frank pulled her to her feet and led her toward her bedroom. “I think we are almost ready now,” he said. She took his hand and led him to her marrital bed.

*

I hurried home at noon, not stopping for beer with the guys. I had played poorly, too preoccupied with what might be happening at home. I saw no sign of Frank’s car by the house. “Damn, maybe he changed his mind and didn’t come,” I thought, relieved in some way.

I entered the kitchen from the garage. The house was quiet but there were two coffee cups on the kitchen table. Looking around, I didn’t see anyone. Her car was in the garage so she should be home.

I walked toward the bedroom area looking in each as I passed its door. The door to the master bedroom, our room, was ajar. When I pushed it open the air was redolent of sex. I felt a shudder of fear and arousal at the same time.

In our bed was my naked wife, her bottom half under a coverlet, sleeping on her side, snoring quietly. Her hair looked sweaty and damp and her breasts were rising and falling with her respiration, her nipples distended. She looked serene and beautiful. I felt overwhelmed with love for her at that moment.

Finally, I sat on the bed beside her. Without lifting her head she opened her eyes and smiled a sleepy smile at me. “Hi darling,” she said. She stretched lazily like a cat, then reached out and touched my thigh. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Has Frank been here?” I asked. She nodded her head and smiled again. My heart jumped and my stomach lurched. “How was it?”

Her hand moved upward toward the hem of my shorts and my burgeoning cock. “Lovely,” she said. I waited for more but she was silent.

“How long was he here?” was all I could think to say.

“A couple of hours, I guess. I lost track of time.” “Oh god!”

“Did you….?” She nodded her head and closed her eyes as if recalling her time with him. She rolled onto her back. A sick feeling was growing in my stomach.

After a long silence she whispered, “John, he nearly fucked me unconcious. I actually may have passed out when I came, I think I did.” I felt like I was goiing to vomit or have a heart attack.

“You came for him?” She held up three fingers, then amended it to four. By now I was really sick to my stomach, but my traitorous cock was rock hard and peeking out of my shorts. “Did he cum in you?”

She whispered when she answered me, “Yes…. twice, I think.” She was clearly beginning to feel nervous or guilty and wanted the questions to stop. So did I, I wanted to get out of there.

I turned away to leave but she grasped my wrist, “Don’t go. I need you right now; I need to reconnect. Come fuck me. I don’t need any foreplay; I want your cock in me. Make love to your slut wife and reclaim her.”

Hearing that felt really good. In a moment I was naked lying beside her. We kissed. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed very hard. “I love you,” she whispered.

A thousand questions were in my head but what came out was, “Is he very big?”

She smiled again, clearly remembering, and placed her hand flat on her abdomen just under her navel. “I can still feel him here. He has been where no other man has. He laid waste to my pussy honey, I may be ruined.”

She suddenly looked alarmed. “ Oh, I’m sorry honey, I shouldn’t have said that. It was hurtful. Now come here…,” It was exactly what I feared. Frank had turned my wife and owned her pussy. I can only come off second best. I leaned over her torso. “May I look?” I asked.

“Of course, I’m your wife and it’s your pussy now.” She kicked the covers off and spread her legs. As alarmed as I was, the state of her cunt fascinated me. It was a livid red and still partially open. Her pubic hair was matted and sticky; her lips were swollen and gleaming with moisture. A trace of creamy fluid peeked out from between them.

I wanted to lick it and make her cum. I began kissing her inner thighs, working my way to the promised land. Her hands were caressing my head. When my tongue touched her clit, she said “Oh,” and pushed me away. Her pussy spasmed, made a farting sound and a glob of creamy white cum oozed out and down her ass.

“I guess I’m still a little sensitive down there. It’s OK if you want to lick me, but it is a bit messy. I would rather you lay with me and let me feel your arms around me and your hard cock in me. We have crossed a line into hazardous territory and I want to feel safe again with you. Let’s not talk; let’s fuck.”

The familiar bleachy smell of Frank’s jism combined with hers for an intoxicating brew. I slid my hands under her ass and thumbed her pussy lips more open, then licked again.

Her use of vulgar language surprised me somewhat. But I needed the same thing. I moved up and kissed her letting her taste the aromatic result of their communion. She took my cock in her hand and guided it to her pussy lips, then she wrapped her legs around my thighs, hooking her heels behind my knees. Her hands grasped my ass and urged me deeper.

My cock met no resistance; her pussy was stretched and the lubrication of Frank’s copious cum deposits smoothed the way. Her hands pulled me in and her thighs pushed me out in a slow dance with her murmuring, “Yes,” each time I bottomed.

Looking down I saw that her nipples had receeded into their areoles. This was not an ardent fuck of sexual arousal; this was her reminding herself that she had a husband who loved her and she had cuckolded. She was not going to cum with me today.

Shortly she whispered, “Won’t you cum for me? I feel his little sperm frantically seeking an egg to fertilize. Cum in me and fight them off.” She probed my mouth with her tongue. I don’t know why but that pushed me over the top. Of course, she had no more eggs to fertilize at her age.

A bit later she moved her legs from around me and I rolled to the side. Then she rolled away onto her side and seemed to fall asleep again. I spooned to her and let our genitals lie together in a goopy mess.

Her breathing smoothed out as if she were asleep, real or feined, I didn’t know. What I did know had me gob smacked: my solid wife, steady helpmate, the rational half of the family, has just had the sexual experience of her life courtesy of another man.

I had doubted that he could even get to first base with her, yet she had relented and opened her arms and legs to him. She probably expected another ho-hum roll in the hay that would leave her unsatisfied.

Boy was she wrong; she has given him her most valuable gift. I would forever be runner-up. We laid there for quite a while in a semi-sleep until I needed to piss.

She didn’t stir when I got up. Later, at dinner I tried to talk about the day’s events. She told me that it was still too soon for her to think about.

“I want you to invite Frank to dinner tomorrow,” were the last words I heard as I dropped off to sleep that night. I don’t think either of us slept very well.