Jack and I dated for six years before we got married. At the start of this story, we'd been married just at three months. Despite our long time together, our familiarity with each other, not to mention this all happening in our horniest teenage years, I learned more about sex that first night with Javon than I had my whole life up to that point.

My choir girl upbringing and the strict society training I got took a lot of getting over. But the culture was shifting right under our feet. I admit that a lot of those three months after we got married, I spent sitting in our apartment crying. He'd joined the army and we'd moved 900 miles from home. I missed my mom and dad and my regular life back home. I missed my school friends since I'd dropped out to get married, and everything was so totally different now.

I have to admit, I wasn't always very nice to Jack. I tried to be a good little housewifey and have dinner ready and the house picked up, but that was both boring and hard. And Jack would come home at the end of the day tired, dirty, and wanting sex. I felt taken advantage of and caged up from not being able to get out all day since he had to take the car to work, and at the end of the day, I wanted to go someplace and do something. But we were too poor to do much. Even just driving around cost gas money. So I was an unhappy little girl and usually took it out on him.

It was obvious that I should drive him to work and then pick him up at the end of the day so I could have the car, but that meant twice as much gas. Not only that but he usually had to be in by 7:00, and I hated having to get up early enough to take him to work. I didn't think I'd ever get used to that, but having the car that day made it worth while.

Getting out and around post was really liberating for me, and my attitude toward life in general, not to mention toward Jack, got a lot better. I would surprise him with meatloaf some evenings, a real favorite of his though I knew it wasn't as good as his mother's, and he started to pay me more attention and make me feel more appreciated and wanted.

But being out and about more meant that I was seeing a lot more people, and a lot more people were seeing me. I felt a little guilty about it, but I was starting to like being 'checked out,' having guys talk to me with obvious interest. It was kind of funny how little difference it made that I wore those flashy wedding rings. Maybe it shouldn't have, but being noticed made me feel appreciated too...and wanted!

One day, Jack brought home a couple of magazines. One was on how to give a massage. He also brought home a bottle of safflower oil and some sented candles. The other magazine was a Penthouse. Needless to say I encouraged him in developing his new massage skills volunteering to be his practice dummy. My attitude toward him warmed up quite a bit when I could look forward to laying naked on a pile of towels and feeling the delicous relaxation that even a massage rookie can give. And soon he started to get pretty good.

Despite my struggles, largely due to what I now know was my immaturity and selfishness, I knew Jack loved me. He had stayed with me and essentially waited for me to grow up before we married, and everything he did was honestly about caring for me in the end. So as we were feeling closer, our sex life started to improve. We had hot passionte make out sessions and he never failed to 'get me going,' as I like to refer to it, but intercourse just didn't do it.

So, our evenings would often find me naked on my tummy getting massaged to heaven while I read him the stories and letters from Penthouse. We got a lot of ideas and did some experimenting from that information source, but we were, at least I was, totally shocked at what seemed to be totally normal in the sex department, stuff I'd never even heard of. The thought of flirting, flashing and immodest dress in general, not to mention oral sex, anal sex, partner swapping, multiple partners, even interracial partners, were mostly new ideas for me. As intimidating as it all was, as much of a challenge to my moral core, I found it all intensely exciting and erotic.

Picking hubby up after, meant waiting for him outside his work, which is where I met Javon. From the first time Javon and I saw each other, we noticed one another. I mean there were other people there; mostly black guys, but a couple of other girls too sometimes. The guys tended to be a little crude sometimes, but I wasn't going to get run off like some of the other girls. I got to enjoying the time waiting for my husband, chatting with the guys and even giving them back some of their barbs. Javon was always there and seemed particularly interested in me. He was good looking and very smooth, always knowing just how to compliment or tease.

My husband keeps saying I told him that I thought Javon was cute. I don't remember saying that, but he got the idea someplace. I think I would have been too worried about what he'd think to say something like that out loud, but it was the truth, I do think he's cute. And though he's not tall—he's about the same height as me in heels—he looks strong, muscular, and has this 'Eddie-Murphy-like' smile that makes for a pretty attractive guy. I liked him and felt like he liked me.

But then one day, Carolyn, tells me that Javon really, really likes me and was really going to come after me. She's our neighbor and my sometimes friend, who has been involved with blacks around post.  She actually has this black boyfriend, Richard, who knows Javon, so I don't think she was just teasing me. Jack had mentioned rumors about him liking me so this wasn't totally coming from left field. As conflicted as I was about it, it was sure seeming to be true, not just a rumor.

When it first dawned on me that he might really be interested in seeing me, I admit that my heart raced and my pussy got wet. But the news also scared me. All I could think of was that my husband would think I was cheating on him, or doing something to cause it. I told him about it immediately, terrified of what he'd think. He heard me seriously sharing my fears and very much to my surprise, he didn't react as I'd expect—like getting mad or something. Actually, he laughed and made light of it. I felt hurt, like he was taking me for granted or didn't care enough to protect me, although he'd assured me a thousand times he loved me and wouldn't let anything happen to me.

Letting my confidence in Jack's love for me grow, and trusting in his desire to protect me, I began to relax a little with the idea of Javon being 'after me.' Thinking back, I doubt if I concealed my interest in the idea of being pursued. I know at times I was like a silly schoolgirl, laughing at what he said, agreeing with him, and all in all showing flattered receptivity to him. At the same time, I was self-conscious about people seeing me with him and talking about us. In some ways, it was a relief when Jack told me he'd invited him over to our place where we could talk someplace besides out in front of the whole world.

I'm not totally naive. I had a pretty good idea what Javon was coming over for and also knew that my husband was going to give me the freedom to follow my desires, whatever they were. Coming to understand that, I started to get really excited about Javon coming over. Jack wanted me to wear something slinky, something sexy, but I didn't have the courage for that. I didn't want to look like I was doing anything more that just being friendly and nice, so I could preserve my dignity if nothing happened, which in the back of my mind was a pretty strong possibility.

*****

Before that Friday night, I'd never seen Javon except at the end of the day when he was always wearing a dirty work uniform. But tonight, he had on this form fitting black mesh shirt, with a gold chain and black slacks. He was beautiful, his smile so big and broad, I was wowed. I'd been a little distracted getting dinner together, but the very sight of him put that totally out of my mind. When I hugged him hello, his velvety black skin, so smooth against my cheek, and his intoxicating cologne made my head swim.

I know I felt nervous, but I was also giddy with excitement as I brought him a beer. Trying to play it cool, I hesitated trying to decide whether to sit next to him. Thankfully, my husband encouraged me to do it, so I just plopped down next to him on the sofa. That was probably the turning point in my mind for the whole evening. Sitting next to him, hip to hip, I knew something physical was going to be happening, whether I liked it or not.

I know I talk too much. And if I'm really nervous, I talk to fast and more often than not just start saying any and everything that comes to mind. My husband is always laughing at me for that, but it's just how I am. Javon was sitting back sipping his beer as I started telling him all this stuff he probably didn't want to know or even care about. He just smiled politely and listened, letting me calm myself by talking. Only then did he start asking me about myself with a charming blend of compliments and questions. The tone of his voice, the body language he conveyed made me feel so very much at ease.

Javon slipped his arm around my shoulder so casually it seemed to be totally natural and right. Looking back on it, I should proably have played a little more hard to get, but he was really charming me, making me feel pretty and wanted. When he kissed me, everything else disappeared. Nothing mattered to me but that delicious tongue and how powerfully turned on it made me. He told me he wanted to make me feel beautiful, and boy did he.

I was so high after that kiss, that having to eat dinner was an unwelcome interruption. Javon made it easy though making casual conversation and teasing me while we ate. I was getting even more comfortable around him every minute.

I could sense that my husband wasn't being treated very well, but I found it easy to just not worry about that at the moment, because I had this gorgeous black guy totally honed in on little old me! I knew I was getting a little silly, but I just wanted to please him and let him know how much I was enjoying being with him. When Javon told him to stay in the kitchen for a while, I felt a jolt in my pussy. I knew we were going to really get into it.

Hubby was hardly gone before we were necking like crazy. His big hands and long Black fingers were soon all over me, exploring me, opening my clothes, touching and probing me in all of the most sensitive places. There was no more pretending we were just friends. I could feel the want, and needed nothing more than to surrender to him totally, let him do whatever he wanted.

The way he fondled my breasts, sucked and kissed them, his hand running up my skirt, made me feel so dirty. I felt deliciously used when he fingered me. We weren't talking much, just sort of whispering to each other how good it was. He was taking me to an orgasm and I was loving every second of his attention.

When my husband's presence intruded on my awareness, I suddenly felt very self-conscious. I mean, I was laying back on the sofa in Javon's arms, my blouse open, my bare breasts in his hands and his hand up my skirt frigging my bare pussy. I wasn't used to being 'observed' in this state and didn't like it. Javon sensed that and sort of toyed with him a little, I thought to get him to leave us alone. He even made him play with himself, putting him down in a way that might have bothered me, but in the arms of my black stud and approaching orgasm, I just made it go away from my mind. Knowing he was going to fuck me, I whispered to him to please take me upstairs to our bed so we wouldn't be watched.

*****

Sex with Javon was a totally new experience of anything sexual I'd ever experienced. Watching him undress, helping him undress, I got to touch and feel and smell and taste that smooth velvety black skin all over. I know guys would rather be thought of as tough, but his body was positively sensuous, delicious to touch everywhere. His kisses continued, making me feel them all the way to my core. Wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling his naked body against mine, every part of me loved the touch that only my fingers had experienced until then. His dick was stiffening against my tummy, heightening my erotic excitement.

I wanted my consent, my desire, to be known and not just guessed at. “I want you to fuck me,” I breathed hotly into his ear as his black hands stroked up and down my bare sides. When he pushed me onto the side of the bed, my face was level with his big dick for the first time. I reached up and took it in hand, sliding one hand under his ball sack. I looked up just to see him smiling at me, then went back to examining this beautiful piece of flesh.

If it were possible, it was even more sensuous feeling than the velvety softness of the rest of his skin. I knew what a foreskin was, but had never seen one, especially not up this close and personal. It fascinated me to pull it back and let it slide forward. I had zero experience with oral sex despite reading about it and giggling with my husband, but the actual thought of putting my mouth there was gross. I couldn't imagine being willing or even able to do that without my stomach turning. But in that moment, feeling so turned on and feeling so loved and desired, and knowing how adventurous I was being, I let my mouth do what it wanted. I took the head between my lips and let my tongue swirl around it. Then suddenly realizing what I was doing, I pulled back from it.

Javon looked down at me patiently “That's not so bad,” I heard myself say.

“No, it isn't. Feels pretty great too,” he smiled, stroking my face. Was he huge, like the studs in the letters and stories? I don't know. I do know he is way bigger than my husband and the look and shape of his dick seemed so much more erotic to me. Maybe I was just imagining things, but he had me from the mere sight of his dick, and the brief taste lingering in my mouth just added to my sexual desire.

He nudged me back onto my elbows. My legs came apart of their own volition as his big hand slipped down over my bare belly and he started fingering me again, separating my lips and opening my pussy. He pushed that big dick into me, my lips parting to the point of stretching. He was gentle and kind, but insistent. His belly lowered onto mine, his chest onto to me as his mouth closed over mine, pressing me back onto the bed. He fucked me slow and deep, moving all the way in and out, making me feel so, so full and so, so good. I wrapped my arms and legs around his black body, holding him close while inside me.

Kissing passionately, I felt the flowering of orgasmic pleasure flowering deep in me. That was a new sensation, surprising me, and growing way past anything I'd ever felt, even in my best masturbation orgasms. He started fucking me stronger, not a lot faster, just stronger, deeper, more insistent and suddenly, my stomach knotted and spasmed in the most intense orgasm of my life. And it didn't just hit and fade, it kept going and going and going for so long I wondered if it would stop, or if I would just die!

Sex with my husband always finished at that point. We'd get up and go shower or whatever. But, Javon made no move to stop, and I was seriously delighted that he wasn't in a hurry to end these wonderful feelings going on inside me. For several more lovely minutes, we rocked together. He was teaching me to fuck like I didn't know was possible! He suddenly kissed me again, holding me to him hard. I felt his dick twitch, then start throbbing with strong movements, obviously ejaculating a lot of sperm into me.

Our pleasure seemed to continue for a long time, several minutes at least, before it began to recede into a warm, wet loving connection. His mouth slipped over onto my neck, slowly kissing and nibbling at me. I was in sexual glow land, not able or even willing to think, just enjoying laying there together, under him.

Then, out of the blue, I was hit with the realization of where I was, what I was doing, and what was happening. Still under his heavily breathing body, my mind began to explode with fears, worries, and concerns. Sensing my unease, Javon kissed me again and got off of me, pulling out slowly. Without a word, he started getting dressed. My eyes moistened as I started freaking out. He'd ejaculated in me. A lot. I could feel it coming out already. I was married. And I'd just fucked a man not my husband. And he was black!

“That was great,”he said as he kissed my forehead and went back down stairs. I couldn't answer. I rolled over onto my side and went into a fetal ball. All the terrible possibilities rolled through my mind in living color, my parents calling me a slut and disowning me, my family and friends back home calling me an adultress, a cheater, an immoral slut, and refusing to speak to me again. My highschool and college friends calling me airhead bimbo, a dumb slut, a mudshark! I was flooded with shame, embarrassed to death. I started to cry, then I just lost it and started sobbing.

My husband came upstairs about an hour later. He'd taken Javon back over to the barracks and cleaned up downstairs. I think he was kind of afraid to come up to me when he heard me crying. Guys seem to think there's no way to comfort a sobbing female, but that's not always true. I was hoping deep inside that he'd come up and help me, maybe just be with me, help me hide from what had happened. But he chickened out, waiting until I was asleep, then lay next to me until morning.

He was up before me in the morning and was downstairs getting ready to leave for work. I was glad I didn't have to drive him in today. The thought of seeing Javon was too intimidating. I got in the shower, my mind still wandering all over the place. The hot water calmed me some, but I still felt dirty, used, unloved and undeserving of anything good. I was just desperately hoping my marriage and family would survive my sins.

Jack met me with a big fluffy towel as I got out of the shower. He pulled me close and started drying me off. I couldn't keep from crying again, but I got control of myself as he started kissing me and telling me how much he loved me and how proud of me he was. Calming a bit, I wrapped my wet hair in a turban and slipped on my robe. We went downstairs to the kitchen where he poured me a cup of coffee and held my hands, reassuring me as best he could.

I thought long and hard, all night long really, before I announced to him, “I can't do this.”

“But Ains, you liked it. I mean I wasn't up there, but I could tell from the sounds you were making you were loving it.”

I admitted to him that it was good.  No...great, really. “But don't you understand, just because it was good doesn't make it okay. I'm married, but now...” she teared up again, “I'm dirty, I'm used...I'm an adultress.”

“No, no, baby,” he held me. “You're okay. It was okay. You liked it. Javon liked it. Heck, I even liked it. It's okay and you don't have to let people call you names. You can do what you want to do.” I just cried softly and let him hold me for a while. I knew he'd have to leave soon. Finally, he broke the hug and told me he had to get to work, and he'd hurry home to comfort me tonight.

I followed him to the front door, hugged him one more time, and looked him in the eye. “That will never happen again.” He looked at me surprised, confused. “Never,” I repeated, and closed the door.