Ethiopian Trophy Wife’s Awakening

"No," I said, shaking my head in negation, even though I kept grinding on his leg like a bitch in heat.

"Right now slut, or I won't fuck you," he ordered, taking his hand away.

"That would be awful! Okay, I'm a slut, I'm a slut," I said in a desperate declaration to get the pleasure back. "A nasty sharmuta."

"Good, you're almost there, but tell me you're my slut," he corrected, returning his knee to my fevered, desperate pussy.

"Yes, yes," I agreed mindlessly. "I'm your slut."

"Good girl," he said, as I ground on his leg to the music, the lyrics 'get off' now repeating over and over.

As I humped him like a dirty bimbo slut, he brought my hand to his crotch, and my eyes went big. This man had a huge... dick! Maybe not like that black man's dick, but it was very large.

"Like?" he asked as my hand rested on his cock.

"It's very big," I said, not exactly answering the question, but undoubtably conveying that I was impressed.

"I know," he said, as the song at long last ended. It had been ages longer than the Prince rendition, but I wasn't complaining, I even wanted more! But frustratingly, he pulled his knee away.

"Noooo," I whined, sensing I was very close to this elusive orgasm thingie I'd heard so much about.

"Song's over, dance is done," he said mildly, as he took my hand and led me back to our table.

Beyond frustrated, my pussy burning like a forest fire, I reluctantly followed him back, my head spinning with uncontrollable lust for forbidden pleasures.

Back at the booth, drinks already waiting for us, I took a big sip, since I was dying of thirst and sweating profusely... and only then remembering I was now wearing nothing but my largely transparent lingerie... and I had no idea where my burqa had gone.

A minute later my husband arrived. He sat down, unaware that Charlie's hand was tickling my clit.

"Where were you?" I asked.

"I had an upset stomach, so I needed to lie down for a while," he said.

Right. That sounded really believable.

"You're almost naked! Where's your burqa?" he asked.

"I honestly don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" he demanded, a little annoyed, as a drink arrived for him.

"I was on the dance floor, it got really hot and sweaty, and while I wasn't paying attention, someone took it off of me, and that's the last I saw of it," I explained.

"You were dancing? I told you to stay put!"

"It's a dance club, your good friend the owner encouraged me to dance with him, so I did," I explained, not mentioning that as I spoke, Charlie's fingers were teasing my pussy, and I had to control myself so I wouldn't moan. I certainly didn't want my husband to know what was happening right under his nose... or under the table, anyway.

"Well, you're showing far too much skin," he said, downing half of his drink.

"Not my fault. You're the one who told me to wear this outfit before you brought me here," I pointed out.

"Yes, but..." he said.

"No buts," I interrupted him for the first time ever. "You're being rude to our table guest."

"Sorry," he said, glancing at Charlie.

I'd like to point out that many people would be horrified to know that a goody-goody Muslim wife like myself was allowing my husband's friend to do sinful things like fingering my pussy while my husband was right there at the table with us... or at all! I should be totally faithful to my lawful husband at all costs. But I was getting really tired of being faithful to Amir, especially tonight, when moments ago he'd returned to the table obviously right after being unfaithful to me by doing something or other with some sexy someone. So if Charlie wanted to show me an illicit good time tonight, I was all for it... although I'd try to be discreet, and avoid doing anything blatant right in front of him.

.

"I've been looking after your wife while you were away," Charlie said. "The sharks are out tonight."

Amir looked around while I heard a sly zip. I glanced down and saw Charlie was pulling out his dick...his very large dick. And it was hard! What a delightful sight!

Charlie gave me a look and a nod before he reached for my hand. Not wanting my husband to see what was happening, or for him to see Charlie grasping my hand, I stuck my hand under the table.

A moment later, with some help from Charlie, my hand was wrapped around my second ever dick. Which was much longer and thicker than my husband's.

As I slowly stroked it, Amir finished his drink, while I couldn't believe how big and fat this white cock was. I was completely enamoured by it... but I wished I could see it better. The low level black lighting was a good cover to keep my oblivious husband from spying the naughtiness I was indulging in, but it also made it almost impossible for me to get a good look at this impressive rod (ooo - is that a good word?) which was making me feel things I'd never felt before.

My husband finished his drink and ordered me, "Come and sit next to me, sharmuta."

I wanted to obey him, I really did, but I couldn't take my hand off of this cock for two reasons. First, it felt so good in my hand, and it was getting me so excited. And second, Charlie had his hand stuck firmly between my legs, teasingly rubbing my pussy, which was also getting so excited.

But Charlie saved my day in the most astonishing fashion. "She's mine tonight, Amir," he growled, and without a hint of discretion or apology, he grabbed my head, pushed it under the table and down to his dick. "Suck it, slut."

Suddenly I was facing a big white cock!

Amir shouted, his voice rising, "What are you DOING?"

"I'm charging her my fee for protecting her from the sharks tonight," Charlie explained mildly, as he tapped his dick against my mouth.

I knew I shouldn't...I knew this was the ultimate sin... yet I was crazy horny, I was unable to resist, and so I opened my mouth and took it between my lips... his genitals having a subtly erotic and appealing scent.

"Charlie, please don't do this to me," my husband pleaded as I slowly began bobbing, knowing he was detecting my weakness and my actions.

"Do you want me to continue guarding your secret?" Charlie asked warningly, which of course made me wonder what the secret was.

"Charlie," my husband said, in a voice dripping with guilt while I bobbed up and down... amazed at how Charlie's girth stretched my mouth... weirdly exciting me.

"Hey, I'm not judging anyone," Charlie said. "I'm just saying."

"What exactly are you saying?" my husband asked, his tone shifting to angry.

"Just that it wouldn't take much for your employer or your family to learn about your secret," Charlie said, as he placed his hand on the back of my head and gently pushed me further down onto it.

"I thought this was a safe place," Amir said glumly.

"Oh, it is," Charlie reassured him as I took more of his cock into my mouth... excited at being able to take so much.

"Then what are you saying?" Amir asked, clearly frustrated.

"I'm saying you're a cuck, Amir," Charlie said. "Your wife needs a man with a real cock, not that tiny worm you call a dick."

"My wife is just fine with my cock," Amir asserted boldly.

"Are you, my slut?" Charlie asked, and he moved his hand to my chin and pulled me off of his cock so I could sit up at the table for a while.

I looked at my husband with my face coated in slobber and said, recalling that he was the one who'd dressed me in provocative clothing and brought me here; he was the one hiding some sort of risky secret; and he was likely banging some of the sluts here on a regular basis. So he had to have known a confrontation like this could be the result. So knowing what I wanted my result to be, I submitted my brief testimony as a slam dunk to win my case in a few seconds. "Amir, in all these years, you've never made me come. Not even once."

"Never?" They both barked in unison and with equal shock.

"Not ever even close to one," I said, getting braver throughout this surreal situation. I turned to Charlie and said, "I was closer than I've ever been just now, when you fingered me and ordered me to hump your leg."

"Slut! You just admitted to letting him finger you, you sharmuta!" my husband accused me, his anger instantaneous, since his pride was being challenged... his manhood.

"I didn't let him; he's very smooth, and it was hard for me to keep track of what was happening," I said; "but once his finger was inside me, I didn't give him much resistance."

"You evil, traitorous slut," Amir growled.

"That's enough, Amir," Charlie growled right back, defending me like my husband had never bothered to do... ever. "Your wife is discovering her sexuality tonight, and she only just learned she had any at all, because you brought her here. So you did something good tonight. Thank the man, Zoya."

"Amir, thank you so much for bringing me here tonight and introducing me to this hot, sexy stud."

"But I...." my husband began, never willing to be talked to like this... especially by a white man and his own wife.

"I'm fucking talking to you," Charlie said, his tone firm and strong, but he also winked at me, pointed at his dick, and I eagerly leaned back down and took his fat wet cock with my saliva still on it, back into my mouth. "Tonight your wife is mine. I own her. This is not negotiable."

"Please, Charlie," my husband pleaded, as I sucked contentedly on my new lover's (I hoped) much larger white cock. Amir's cringing weakness was something I'd never seen in him before.

"Tell you what," Charlie said as I bobbed more eagerly, more hungrily, on his delicious white cock with an enthusiasm I'd never had for my husband, my pussy on fire. "I'll let your wife decide. I'll give her two choices. Choice one: she can get up immediately and leave with you. If she does, neither of you are ever allowed to return here. Choice two: she declares that she wants to stay and be my... what did you call her?"

"I'm a sharmuta," I said between hungry bobs.

"My sharmuta, and she'll obey my every order for the rest of the night," Charlie finished.

"Okay, that's easy," Amir said. "Tell him Zoya, and we can get out of this dump."

He was totally confident that I would be his obedient wife. Of course I would choose him. And by all rights, I really should choose him. Yet the idea of mindlessly obeying this new man, this sexy man, this white man, even though I knew it was wrong with every fibre of my being... I couldn't resist him. I wanted his cock in my mouth for as long as he wanted it there. I wanted the pleasure from just what he did with his finger to return. I wanted to be a slut... a sharmuta... I knew I wasn't thinking like a good wife, a religious woman, or even just a righteous one, but at the moment I didn't care. I was in an erotic trance, already missing that sweet cock in my mouth, "I want to belong to Charles for the night."

"What?" Amir gasped, that being the last thing he'd expected to hear.

"You heard her," Charlie said.

Yet wanting to speak for myself, because of all these years of bottled up resentment for my husband's ongoing lack of respect for me, I said, "Amir, you brought me here tonight to show off your hot, pretty but brainless, Ethiopian trophy wife. You wanted this to happen. You wanted me to suck white cocks. To be used by white men. Maybe even to let some strangers fuck me. To be a cheap slut. In short, to strut my degraded stuff as your prized possession. So guess what... I'll do it! I'm going to be the hottest, sexiest, sharmuta this place has ever seen."

"Zoya, how could you?" Amir wailed, destroyed by the sudden reversal of his sexual outlook, and by the harsh words I'd just blurted out at him.

"Sit on my lap, you pretty thing," Charlie ordered.

"Yes, sir," I obeyed instantly, excited by this opportunity to feel his big, slightly curved cock inside my pussy. "I need your white cock so bad," I moaned as I climbed onto his lap, knowing the white reference would hurt my mean, over-controlling husband even more.

"Your wife is one hot piece of ass," Charlie observed, as his cock rested directly beneath my pussy, a tiny amount of friction my only defense against his cock sliding inside my fertile, wet, horny cunt.

"Charlie, we can work something out," my husband wheedled, clearly grasping at straws, while his house of cards came tumbling down in front of him.

"There's nothing you can give me that I care about, Amir," Charlie said, as he flinched his cock underneath me and made me moan (which I now did without reservation). As he reached around me and cupped both of my big double D's, he ordered, "Grind slowly on my cock, slut. Show me how badly you want my white dick in that black pussy."

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned, obeying immediately, my desire to obey him controlling me completely. Did I care he wasn't my husband? No. Did I care he was married? Well, since his naked wife was right across the room and having sex with one or two other men, and she obviously approved of Charlie playing with me since we were in plain sight and she hadn't objected, then the answer was definitely not, I didn't care at all. All that I did care about right now was his dick, and his powerful influence over me. I was in a complete daze... a mental haze... and I knew there was no going back.

"Zoya, please! You're shaming our name," Amir begged.

That pissed me off... anger bubbled right up through me, and I snapped. "I'm shaming our name? You've been shaming us ever since the day the Imam of our village bought me for you from my parents, and by always treating me like crap. And tonight you dressed me up like your personal sharmuta and you fucking brought me here. You wanted this. I bet your tiny dick is hard from your watching your wife grinding on another man's dick... a white man's dick."

"Good point. Are you hard, Amir?" Charlie asked as he pulled my tits out of my lingerie top.

"N-n-no," he stammered, but since he broke eye contact and stammered... it was obvious to me what his true answer was.

"Then show us," Charlie said.

"Yeah, show us," I challenged him, as I continued grinding on the big dick while Charlie cupped my bared tits and teased my hard nipples... his dick so close to sliding into my long-neglected pussy.

"No," he said.

"Why not?" I asked, all innocently.

He didn't answer. Or couldn't.

"So unless you decide to leave, for the rest of the night you're going to sit there, shut up, and watch me doing anything Charlie wants me to... anything! Is that clear?" I asked, this strong-willed side of me a shocking by-product of maybe the Christian rapture, or perhaps the alcohol... as I finished my second drink... then reached across the table and grabbed his newly put down drink.

"Yes." he whispered sheepishly.

"Yes, what?" I demanded, a rush of adrenaline coursing through me from standing up to my husband.

"Yes, I'll stay and watch," he said.

"Good," I said. "Because Charlie is going to really give it to me. Aren't you Charlie?"

"Oh, that's guaranteed," he said, as he surprised me by lifting me off of him. "Strip down to your thong and stockings, then let's go dance again." I found it humorous to compare the Zoya who'd left the house earlier, a bundle of nerves because she was wearing an abbreviated burqa that most Americans would consider acceptable, although perhaps only marginally, and the Zoya right now who was gleefully stripping almost naked in a crowd of other mostly naked people, just because her 'boyfriend' (if that's what Charlie was) told her to.

"Okay, nearly naked now," I said brightly, and I smiled as he stood up and I wrapped my hand around his dick, "and I get to lead the way."

"Your wife is a wild insatiable being, now that she's found her inner slut," Charlie said.

Still grasping his dick, I led him to the crowded dance floor. We happened to pass a woman on her knees licking another woman... and the idea of eating white pussy popped into my head for the very first time. Well, if Charlie tells me to, I don't think I'll mind doing that at all.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, as he spun me around and pulled me close.

"Immensely," I responded as his hard cock ended up nestled between my legs as we danced slowly together... to a fast-paced song. Hey, free spirits can decide on their own dance tempos!

Charlie bent down and sucked on my erect nipples, and to my surprise, since my husband never sucked on them but just manhandled them roughly for his own enjoyment, I learned that I had very sensitive nipples. Delightful!

I could feel his throbbing dick resting against my pussy... driving me wild with anticipation, while he worshipped my breasts.

"You have amazing fucking tits," Charlie said as he squeezed them... sucked them... and tugged on my very sensitive... hurray!... nipples.

"My husband never pays any attention to them," I moaned, as his excessive attention to my tits and nipples sent waves of pleasure through me... his dick still resting right underneath my pussy and adding to my euphoria.

"He's a fucking idiot," he said. "These tits were made to be worshipped and fucked."

"Huh? Fucked?" I asked. I'd never heard of that before!

"Your husband hasn't ever tit fucked you?" he asked, clearly astonished. When I only gave him a confused look, he explained, "It's where your lover slides his dick between your fat tits and fucks them while you squeeze them together."

"Oh goodness, we never did anything like that!"

"He's a fucking idiot," he said, as he looked over at the table.

I did too, and Amir was watching us with pain in his eyes.

Pretending not to notice, I winked at him and gave him a cheery wave, before turning back to Charlie, who pulled me in for a kiss... this time my mouth was open, so his tongue went inside.

I'd never had a tongue inside me, and without thinking, I automatically turned my head away... so his tongue slid over my cheek.

He returned to my lips and kissed me over and over... while flexing his cock against my pussy... making me moan... which allowed him to slide his tongue back into my mouth... successfully this time.

This time... out of lust... his touch made me into a muddled, compliant mess... I extended my tongue into his mouth.

He pulled me tightly against him... his hard-on once again nestled between my legs as we French kissed, his hands groped my ass and mine groped his. I thought he must work out, since his glutes were really tight.

I moaned again as his cock rubbed against my pussy, driving me wild.

His hands roamed all over my ass before he surprised me by spinning me around, bending me over and poking his cock against my pussy... only the thin thong protecting me from having this man's dick inside my pussy, except also his whims. "Hump my dick," he ordered as he grasped my hips. "Let's put on a show for your husband."

I looked over at my husband, who was still watching us, and I rested my hands on my knees for balance and began bucking my ass back... Charlie's lovely fat cock gliding right between my pussy lips.

"Oh yeah, slut, grind on my cock," Charlie ordered with a soft moan.

"I can't believe he's letting you do all of this to me," I said, noticing my husband now had his dick out and was slowly stroking himself.

"Can you believe you're allowing me to do all of this to you?" he asked, as I really ground my booty on his boner... a word my friend Aknoor had used a few times to describe her husband's dick... both of us thinking the word hilarious.

"Noooo, I can't, but I'm soo glad I'm doing it," I moaned, his cock driving me wild, splitting my pussy lips perfectly.