I was squirming on the couch, and it was clear that she was becoming aroused as was I. Tom and I watched raptly as her nipples began to harden and her hand sought out a nearby crotch, grasping the cock she found there even though the men were still wearing their pants.
By this time, I had found a cock of my own which I was rubbing through my husband’s pants, and Tom was absently squeezing my breasts and worrying my nipple as we both continued to watch the movie.
Finally, one of the black men pushed the wife to her knees where she knelt and watched intently as each of the men dropped pants and underwear exposing their rigid black rods. I was about to learn that at least some of what you hear about black men and their large cocks was true.
Tom whispered, “Oh my,” and he squeezed my breast almost painfully as her lips closed over the head of one cock, and she used her hands on the other two.
The rest of the movie progressed much as you would expect with two exceptions.
The first shock happened when they pulled up her skirt and removed her panties. Her pussy was clean-shaven, just like mine, and just above the crack of her pussy was a tattoo. When the camera zoomed in for a close up you could see what appeared to be the outline of a black spade symbol similar to the ones that you see on playing cards. Within the outline of the spade was a large and ornate letter ‘Q’.
When that tattoo came into view I heard Tom suck in his breath as his breathing quickened even more. I didn’t know what it meant so I asked him. He told me that it meant that she was a ‘Queen of Spades’. When he realized that I still didn’t understand he said that it means that she is willing to fuck any black man, any time and, any place.
I turned back to the movie with a renewed appreciation for this woman.
The second shock occurred when all three men used her. She lay on her back on top of one of the black men who had his cock buried in her ass hole. Another of the men had moved between her legs and slowly pushed his huge black pole into her pussy.
The look of rapture on the wife’s face was priceless and I will never forget it. This was when the third black man approached her and she took his black cock between her lips. I barely heard my husband as he murmured, ‘Airtight.’
Her body seemed to be thrust in every direction at once as all three of those large cocks pounded into her every orifice. If there had been any doubt before it was clear now that she truly was a ‘Queen of Spades’.
The movie ended with a closeup of the now exhausted woman as she lay there with her legs spread obscenely wide clearly showing the cum that slowly oozed from between her pussy lips and out of her puckered asshole. The camera zoomed in on her cum covered face and I could hardly imagine how she must feel. I was immediately jealous of this unknown but thoroughly satisfied wife.
When the movie ended, Tom and I lay there, each lost in our thoughts for a few moments. I noted the contemplative look on his face and the rigid pole tenting his pants, but I wasn’t prepared for what he asked me.
“What were you thinking when you picked that movie for us to watch tonight?”
As I said earlier, Tom and I have been together for a long time, and we have been exclusive to each other all of our lives. I was worried about how he would take it when he found out that I wanted to play the part of the complete slut at least one time in my life but I knew that I was going to have to try to explain it to him or it would surely become a problem between us.
A dozen different possibilities ran through my mind as I struggled to find the right way to say what I felt. Finally, before I could control myself I blurted out, “I want to be the woman in the video!”
The first expression I saw on my husband’s face was pure shock as I imagined him painting a mental picture in his mind where I was the wife in the movie. It was probably inevitable that surprise soon followed when he realized that I wanted the same treatment. Finally, his features settled into what I would call unadulterated lust as he began to consider the possibilities.
I’m not sure which of us was more stunned by my revelation. I had wanted to ease into a conversation about the possibilities rather than what I had just done. We both needed time to think and consider what had just happened. He abruptly boosted me out of the way, stood up, and headed for the kitchen saying, “I need a drink.”
He needed a drink? What about me? I pretended to sit there calmly as I awaited his return, but who the hell was I kidding? My heart was pounding a mile a minute.
Moments later, Tom came back carrying two glasses. It looked like he had gotten wine for me and I’m pretty sure that he had hard liquor for himself.
Tom held out the glass of wine and, as I took it he asked, “What the hell just happened? I feel like the earth just moved under my feet. I’ve always felt that we knew each other pretty well but what you just said wasn’t anything that I ever expected to hear from your mouth.”
Tom sat and stared at me while I stared at my shaking hand as I slowly took a sip of my wine. I was doing my best to appear calm and completely under control but I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t doing a good job of it. I looked at my loving husband and tried desperately to decide what to say. It was my fault that the subject was on the table and I either had to walk it back, never being able to scratch that itch or proceed into completely unexplored territory.
I’m normally not a risk-taker by nature but this was something that had a hold on me that I could not deny. I wasn’t dissatisfied with my husband or our sex life. I was quite happy but damn it, I had an itch, and it was demanding to be scratched.
I took a deep breath and began. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure that I can explain myself but, if you will be patient with me, I’ll give it a try.”
I smiled at my husband, expecting some sort of encouragement. Instead, he just sat there with an expectant look on his face. Oh boy, this is going to be an uphill battle. I had been planning to use the sympathy tactic but the look on his face said that I might want to shore up his confidence first.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure what I said came as a complete surprise to you. It’s certainly nothing that we’ve ever discussed before, but I’ve been having these desires for some time now, and only recently have I accepted my need to be used, to be treated like a slut. I guess it was always there, but I didn’t understand it and certainly couldn’t put a label on it.
“I want you to know that I am not unhappy with our marriage or our sex life. You are the love of my life and have provided our marriage with a sound and firm basis on which to base our future. I am completely committed to you and our marriage. This is not about you nor is it an indication of any shortcomings of yours. It’s about me and my growth as a woman. I hope that you can understand.
“Let me try this. Haven’t you ever thought that you would like to do something outrageous but refrained from acting on that desire because of what I or others might think of you?”
I stared at my shaking hand as I raised my glass to my lips and took another sip of wine, watching my husband over the lip of the glass. I was feeling pretty insecure right now and wasn’t at all sure that I could get myself out of this situation without damaging the man that I loved and possibly ruining our marriage. As I willed him to respond I could hear the grandfather clock in the living room ticking away the seconds. Time passed very slowly and I waited for his response, any response.
I held my breath.
At last, he said, “Well, there was one thing.”
Finally, I exhaled, willing to grasp at anything, I eagerly asked, “What?”
“There was the time with Susie Johnston,” he said.
“Susie Johnston!” I exploded. “What about Susie Johnston? That was our freshman year in college, and she flunked out the first semester. She was the dumbest girl in school.”
“I know, but what tits she had! I wanted to get my hands on those magnificent tits of hers in the worst way.”
“Let me get this straight. You are equating your desire to fondle Susie Johnston’s tits with three black men fucking your wife?”
“No, no Sweetheart. In my wildest dreams, I’ve never thought about a black man fucking you.”
Feeling more confident now I pushed ahead, “So, you’ve never thought about watching me being fucked by a black man? Is that what you are saying?”
“Never! Not once have I ever thought about watching a black man having sex with you.”
“Okay, I believe you. You’ve never thought about watching a black man between my legs ramming his big black cock into me. I get that.
“Can you honestly tell me that you have never thought about other men using me while you watched?”
I could tell from the look on Tom’s face that I had hit the nail on the head. “So, watching another man fuck me isn’t such a big shock, is it? You’re just upset about the thought of watching a black man using me.” It was priceless when he realized that I had maneuvered him into a trap.
“Well… ” he stammered, seemingly at a loss for words.
“Come on. Let’s hear the truth. We’re at an important crossroads in our relationship and this is no time for anything less than the truth. Have you imagined your wife, me, having sex with another man or not?”
I don’t know if I was more afraid that he wasn’t going to answer or of what his answer might be.
Shoulders sagging, he let out a sigh and almost inaudibly said, “Yes, I’ve often thought of watching you as another man slid his dick into you. I guess that makes me some kind of pervert. I mean, what kind of man would even think of such a thing?”
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