Be Careful What You Wish For

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After 25 years of marriage and with my help my wife has BBC.
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I laid in bed and listened to her soft, gentle breathing. My arm was draped over her warm, naked body and my hand held hers, our fingers laced together in the predawn darkness. My mind was still reeling and erotic but angst riddled images filled my head as I replayed the previous night on a continuous loop in my mind.

I had met my wife in middle school when I was dating her best friend Jessica. Karen and I hated each other at first and when Jessica and I broke up I didn't see either of them for several years.

Karen and I reconnected during our sophomore year in high school and became friends and drinking buddies. I liked Karen as more than a friend but she wasn't interested in dating me and I was content to just hang out. The following year that changed (I still don't understand why) and we dated for almost 8 years before we finally got married. The marriage went well for ten years then hit a speed bump. We were bickering a lot and rarely having sex. I met a woman online and had a year long, long distance affair. Cheryl lived 2,000 miles away but she was much like my wife in many ways. She was married with two kids and had similar interests in travel and cooking. She was curvaceous, busty and sexy and I really thought I was in love with her but our relationship was tumultuous.

The difference between my wife and Cheryl was purely sex. Cheryl had an open mind and a wild side where as my wife, while not pure vanilla, was reserved with definite opinions about what was good and bad sexually.

Cheryl and I both separated from our spouses and talked about being together forever. We were both hungry to explore our kinky, deviant minds and few subjects were off the table. She was bisexual but she'd had only had one brief exploratory experience with a woman. We talked about swinging and joined websites to meet and talk to like minded people. We dabbled in the BDSM lifestyle. We both identified as switch so we took turns playing the dominant and submissive roles. Cheryl opened my eyes to my own latent curiosities and interests but after almost a year together our relationship became unbearably toxic and unhealthy. I broke up with Cheryl and my wife and I eventually reconciled.

Ten years after I ended my affair, Cheryl and her wild sexuality continued to torment me. I longed for the open lines of communication we had shared and for her open mindedness. I knew we couldn't work as a couple and in most ways other than sex my marriage was going well but I missed the rush of uninhibited sex and I really missed Cheryl pushing my sexual boundaries.

Karen hadn't always been reserved and almost prudish. We'd had some wild times before we were married. She and I had sex on a public beach at night when we were young and I had seen a man watching us while we fucked. We had done other risqué things as well but after our first child was born she closed her adventurous side and sex became boring, monotonous and for the most part our marriage lacked passion so I sought other ways to release my pent up energy.

I had always enjoyed writing. I'd written short stories and I'd begun several novels but I never managed to finish them. In the 90s, before I met Cheryl, I began secretly writing erotica. My early stories were first time lesbian themed and written under a pseudonym. They were mostly stories of seduction and after Cheryl opened my eyes to some deep seeded urges the topic of my erotica changed to focus on my own bicuriosity and other taboo subjects.

I had written hundreds of tales of exploration. They were a healthy way of coming to terms with my taboo, carnal urges without cheating again and as I became comfortable with my desires my stories began to evolve. My fantasies which had often included bisexuality began to focus on cuckolding and cheating wives. My biggest fantasy was to watch my wife with another man but I wasn't a typical poorly endowed cuckold. I had a good sized dick but the urge to see my wife with a really well endowed man became almost an obsession. At first the race of the man wasn't important to me but overtime the men I saw her with in my head were almost always black.

Karen had long insisted that she was not attracted to black men. She made subtle discrete comments to reinforce her position but I had seen anecdotal evidence that disputed her claims and I often suspected that the lady doth protest too much. I had seen her checking black men out when she thought I wasn't looking and numerous time when we were out at a bar (and once while vacationing in Jamaica) she was approached by black men. Each time it was apparent that she was with me but they never seemed to care and I often wondered if she sent unconscious signals or if they caught her looking at them before they approached.

My curiosity about interracial cuckolding built steadily and I watched a lot of interracial porn to satisfied those cravings. In the back of my mind I wanted to make my fantasy a reality but I wasn't sure how or even if it was possible. I began to read up on cuckolding and I picked the brains of men and women in the lifestyle with whom I spoke online.

I was certain that my wife would balk at the idea of an open marriage or even a stag/hotwife dynamic. She would certainly think, because of my prior indiscretion, that I wanted to screw other women rather than just watch her with other men, but that was not my motivation.

When Karen and I had first reconciled after our five month separation she had expressed regret and dismay. She had told me that she wished she had dated other men while we were apart because she knew that I had. The night had I broken up with Cheryl she had called Karen and told her about the affair. My wife had begrudgingly taken me back but I slept on the couch for the first month and we didn't have sex again until I was tested for STDs. After that our sex life flourished for a long time but a decade later we were in a lull. That was when I began searching for a way to let her fulfill her once stated wish to explore other men.

I was, as far as I knew, the only man she had ever been with. She had come close before we started dating with a few boys in school and she may have had her own infidelities in college that I was unaware of since most freshman girls cheat on their boyfriends. But I was basing my actions on the assumption that I was her only lover.

Karen had announced in 2015 after returning from a girls trip to Mexico that she wanted to have a midlife crisis. We were out with friends and she had been drinking at the time. When I asked her later what she meant by her earlier statement she was evasive, only saying that she wanted to do something crazy and out of character. She assured me that she didn't want to cheat on me but I suspected she did. My baseless suspicion was that she was approached and flirted with a man in Mexico but nothing happened. That experience had awakened her dormant urge to experience sexual relations with another man but she was afraid to tell me since she knew not of my cuckold fantasies.

In early 2017 I began conversing with a black man about cuckolding me and seducing my wife. I didn't think it would ever happen but it was a fun fantasy. He gave me tips to test my wife's receptiveness to being with a black man and he also put other lurid thoughts in my oft twisted mind. I began to ask Karen questions to gauge her state of mind. We traveled out of town without our kids for a wedding in August of that year and stayed in a hotel. We had good inspired sex for the first time in months and during foreplay I had asked her what thought gots her the hottest.

Karen told me that she often wished she could climax with me inside her.

"But my body isn't wired that way," she lamented. In 30 years she had never climaxed without clitoral stimulation though I made sure to make her cum most times. She had come close to climaxing during intercourse several times but I'd never gotten her over that final hump.

"You could if I was a lot more flexible," I replied with a grin, implying that I would have to lick her clit at the same time as she loved it and always came when I went down on her. "Or if I could clone myself."

She laughed and I suspect she imagined one of me licking her clit whilst another fucked her. It was a calculated, albeit impulsive, response to see how she reacted and the sex afterward made me think that she liked the idea of being serviced by two men. She would never admit to wanting such untraditional depravity and that was what separated Karen from Cheryl. In hindsight they likely shared the same desires but Cheryl was comfortable admitting hers while my wife wasn't, probably due to her catholic upbringing.

When we got back from the wedding I decided to make a few purchases. I had mentioned that we could use a toy to simulate her getting fucked whilst I licked her clit and in my mind there was only one color to get. I bought my wife's first black cock on a Friday. She was on her period so I couldn't use it right away and I was nervous about how she would react to the color I'd chose. In addition to the dildo I also bought a high end vibrator to help her cum while I fucked her. That night I showed her my two purchased and to my surprise she did not mention the medium mocha hue of the dildo. She also did not mention the size, which at 7.5 inches was more than an inch longer than my fully erect dick.

When Karen's period ended I took her out for a date night. Our daughter was away at school and our son was camping with his girlfriend leaving us alone in the house for some adult fun.

We stripped naked and kissed as I caressed her soft, curvy body.

Karen had been a petite girl when we met and at 5'3" she had weighed just 110lbs on our wedding day. She had, like many women, gained weight over the years but even at 60 or more pounds heavier that when we met I still found her very attractive and sexy. She had great legs, a wide ass and beautiful breasts.

I kissed my way down her soft, feminine curves paying close attention to her big d cup tits and taut, erect nipples. My right hand moved between her splayed thighs and she sighed as I parted her labia and let my fingers slip inside her tight hole.

"You're wet," I teased as I settled between her legs. The rich fragrance of her succulent juices engulfed me and I reached for the dildo as I lowered my lips to her tiny, hard clit.

The dildo slid easily into her and she breathed deep as she swallowed it whole. I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked my tongue over her hard nub. My hand pumped the dildo hard and fast and her legs began to quiver and quake. I could feel the veiny latex shaft on my tongue and some depraved thoughts began to populate my deviant mind.

"Don't stop," she hissed loudly. Her hips bucked and she shuddered and moaned as she came hard. Her juices soaked my face and I smiled up as her with my wet face glimmering.

We fucked twice that night and I used the dildo and my tongue to make her climax two more times before we shut off the lights and went to sleep.

Over the next six months her black dildo became a regular part of our sex life. I named it Jordan and we often joked during foreplay about her black boyfriend joining us.

In March for our anniversary my wife and I took a trip to Key West. We were celebrating 25 years of marriage and more than 32 years together. I introduced her to one of her presents our first night in town. I had purposely left Jordan home because I had purchased a bigger, blacker boyfriend to satisfy wife's suddenly voracious sexual appetite. Her new toy was over 9 inches long, impressively thick and black as night. I named it Tyrone and Karen loved it. She admitted after the first time with Tyrone that size did in fact matter and she came without clitoral stimulation for the first time in her life that night.

Within the next few months I added another big black dildo to my wife's stable of latex boyfriends. Samson was 12 inches long with big balls and huge veins. He was a deep but realistic ebony color with a brown tip and he quickly became one of my wife's favorite toys. She had to be in a particularly randy mood to request him, but he was always beside me on the bed when I was between her legs, and with Samson she rarely needed my tongue to climax when he was inside her. She had stopped hiding her attraction to black men and she sometimes pointed out good looking black men when we were out. We often role played group sex scenarios with her three black boyfriends each fucking her while I kissed her thighs, licked her clit and occasionally tongued her asshole. Despite her admitted interest in black men she was insistent that taking a black lover would never be more than fantasy. She was steadfastly monogamous and that would not change.

Fate intervened a few months later when my wife was sent to New Orleans for a conference. I tagged along for a cheap vacation and we extended our trip over the weekend for a few days alone in the big easy. We had been to New Orleans a couple of times before and we both loved the city's electric atmosphere. Karen's conference ended Friday at noon and that night, after a fine cajun dinner we headed to Bourbon Street to blow off some steam and get drunk. Karen was several drinks in when I noticed her making eye contact with a young, fit black man. I had seen her checking men out over the years when she thought I was not looking but her brazen attention to him took me somewhat by surprise. When she was in college and high school she had been something of a flirt but once we got married that had, for the most part, ended.

"Which one is that?" I teased, referring to her stable of black boyfriends, as I kissed her neck and rested my hand on her bare knee. She had worn a short dress to dinner and we had gone straight to Bourbon Street from the restaurant leaving us dressed to the nines.

"He's probably a Jordan," Karen giggled, "but if he was a Samson I might not be able to control myself. He's hot."

Her words took my breath away and my pulse quickened. I had fantasized about watching her with another man for years but I never thought it would actually happen. Her insistence that she was not "that kind of girl" had been consistent over the years and even though she was far from the vanilla wife she had been just a few years earlier she resisted delving into the swingers life style.

"Well if you want to find out you have a pass," I whispered as I squeezed her thigh. Her body tensed for a moment and then she shook her head.

"No I'm good," she said, dashing my hopes for a moment before an idea struck me.

I'd heard about Collette from someone I'd talked to on tumblr. Collette was a swingers club a few blocks from Bourbon Street.

I took my wife's hand and led her out of the bar.

"Where are we going?" Karen laughed as we stumbled onto Bourbon Street. She was clearly a little tipsy but not yet drunk.

"You'll see," I replied as we headed towards Canal Street.

A few minutes later we were standing outside of Collette. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest and my knees felt rubbery and weak. I had no idea what to expect but I'd been told that it was perfectly acceptable to observe if we weren't comfortable participating.

"What is this place?" My wife asked. Her voice trembled with trepidation and excitement. We could hear the music slipping through the crack beneath the door.

"It's a club, let's check it out," I replied. I led her inside and I knew in an instant our lives would never be the same.

Inside Collette was like most dance clubs. A DJ spun dance music in the corner and couples danced in front of him. Most were dressed well but some were in varying states of undress without being obscene.

I led Karen to the bar and ordered us each a drink. A gin and tonic for her and a Buffalo Trace bourbon, neat, for me.

The sexual energy in the room was palpable and my wife and I took a seat at a high top table where we could people watch.

"What kind of club is this?" She asked as her big golden brown eyes scanned the room. Her head stopped at the door to the back and her eyes widened when she read the neon sign above the door. It read "playrooms" and she nodded.

"It's a swingers club," I laughed. "We don't have to do anything. I just wanted to check it out and people watch."

"Uhhh, okay," Karen replied hesitantly. "How do you know about this place?"

"I read about it on line before we came."

For the next hour I sat next to my dazed wife and watched people mill about. Most looked like ordinary people and I could see that Karen was slowly letting her guard down as the alcohol continued to lower her inhibitions.

I left her alone at the table and went to get us fresh drinks.

Karen's mouth was agape and she was openly staring at a shirtless black man when I returned. His body looked like it had been lifted from the pages of a fitness magazine and he had a huge bulge in his black dress pants.

"Who's that," I asked jokingly as I placed a fresh gin and tonic in front of my spellbound wife.

"That is Samson," Karen squeaked softly. She had goosebumps on her arms, her cheeks were flushed and she chewed lightly on her bottom lip. I could see her resistance melting before my eyes and when he smiled at her she began to beam. He stepped towards us and my wife inhaled sharply. Her chest heaved and she breathed deep and steady.

I put my glass to my lips and swallowed hard, feeling the burn of the bourbon as it slid down my gullet. My stomach began to churn and a shiver ran down my spine.

He looked to be my age or older but with the body of a much younger man. His skin was the color of dark chocolate and it glimmered in the pale light inside the club. He smiled at me and a lump formed in my throat as he stopped in front of my sexy wife and looked into her eyes.

"Do you see something you like?" He asked confidently. He had a deep voice and a thick Caribbean accent.

My wife nodded, speechless and awestruck. Her tongue absentmindedly circled her lips and he nodded at her.

"Let's go in back," he said without hesitation.

He took my wife's hand and she climbed down from her bar stool. He was over six feet tall but a few inches shorter than me. He had broad shoulders and a thick neck. His midsection was devoid of excess body fat and his biceps bulged as he guided my wife towards the neon sign in back.

My heart raced and a foreboding pit formed in my stomach. I felt my shoulders tense and beads of sweat rolled from my brow. It felt surreal and I followed them in a daze not knowing what to do or how to act.

His hand rested on the small of my wife's back and she placed her arm around his waist like they'd known each other for years. I knew what was happening and while I had often dreamed about that moment I was filled with angst.

I stepped into one of the playrooms behind them and watched in dumbfounded amazement as he kissed her deep and wet. Her small, thick body melted against him and their tongues entwined as she eagerly fumbled with his belt.

The lights were low and the walls were painted dark. A brown leather couch was in the center of the approximately 20 by 20 room with a matching chair beside it. A television hung from the wall in front of the couch and an opened futon sat opposite the chair.

His huge cock sprung free as his pants dropped to the floor and Karen gasped. "Oh Samson," she groaned excitedly. His cock was not a big as Samson but it was very impressive and Karen grabbed his meaty shaft with both hands as she dropped to the floor before him. Her mouth opened and she sucked him hard as a deep, guttural moan rose from her chest.

In 30 years I had never seen my wife suck cock with such gusto. Her cheeks bowed inward and her tongue flicked over the tip as she stroked the shaft. She rubbed him against her lips and breathed deep, drawing his essence into her lungs.

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