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A Hotwife/Cuckold Anthology
By Thomas Roberts
Artwork by Moira Nelligar
Copyright © 2017 - All Rights Reserved
A Hotwife/Cuckold Story
Copyright © 2017 - All Rights Reserved
THIS IS AN EROTIC WORK OF FICTION. Any resemblance to persons living or deal is accidental and damned amazing. THIS WORK IS NOT MEANT FOR ANY PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18.
The hotwife genre appeals to me. These are the books I like to read and these are the stories I like to tell, so thank you to the people who read my books.
Be warned, there is sex in this book, lots of it. If that offends you, please don’t read any further. But if you are looking for a fun, dirty read. This is it.
I was stunned when I joined my buddies from work at an upscale downtown bar. We’d decided to go out for a few drinks after work and Monaco’s was the third place we hit. It wasn’t like us to go to a place like Monaco’s. We usually hung out at typical cop bars near the precinct.
My buddies didn’t notice, but I did. My wife of five years, Annette, was sitting in a quiet booth in the back with a man I’d never seen before, only they weren’t just sitting. They were kissing passionately while one of his hands appeared to be busy, out of sight, under the table.
I’d seen Annette’s face many times just before she orgasmed, and she looked like that right now. She was holding his head in both hands while she repeatedly kissed his lips, until she lowered her head and convulsed against his chest.
The man made a show of licking his fingers, much to my wife’s delight. Her face had that ‘after orgasm glow’ that I recognized as she smiled at the sight of him.
They quickly paid their bill and got up to leave. My friends had not seen them; they were too engrossed in arguing about Sunday’s football playoffs. After saying a quick see you guys later, I followed the couple out of the bar and watched, caught between horrified and horny, as he helped my wife into his car.
Before driving away, they engaged in another round of heavy kissing, giving me time to find my car and pull in behind them as they drove away. Instead of heading north toward the office, where Annette worked and where our home was located, they headed south toward a string of motels that lined the highway out of town.
I allowed other cars to come between us a few times and even turned off my headlights once when I knew it was safe. I didn’t think he was watching his rearview mirror very closely. Annette’s head disappeared, and he started driving slower than normal, even weaving within his lane.
The couple pulled into a motel that adjoined a national restaurant chain, allowing me to park next door and watch them without driving into the motel’s lot. The motel was the older type; guests parked in front of the door to their rooms. He was only in the motel office for a few minutes before returning to his car and driving the short distance to their newly rented room. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was having a hard time catching my breath. I watched them holding each other as he unlocked the door and they disappeared inside.
As I neared hyperventilation, I lowered my head, shocked to see the large bulge my cock was making in my pants. It excited me to watch the woman I’d loved since grammar school go into a motel room with another man.
I’d had this fantasy before—the one where I watched my wife fuck another man. We’d even used it to liven up our love life, and Annette seemed to be into it. But lately, there hadn’t been a love life. For some reason, my cock just hadn’t been working right. The erection I had at the motel was the first I’d had in a year. For months before that, I hadn’t been able to hold off orgasm for more than a stroke or two, sometimes cumming before I was even fully inside. I ran my hand over my hard-on, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being hard again, before I decided that I wanted more.
I made my way across the short distance separating the restaurant from the motel and, checking to make sure I was alone and invisible from the restaurant windows, I tried to look into the room that my wife had entered just minutes earlier.
Each room had a window that looked out into the parking lot. The windows were equipped with heavy drapes, but the drapes were old and often left a slight gap where the two halves didn’t match up. Luckily, there was a gap in the drapes to the room my wife was in.
The gap was small, only an inch or two. Not enough to see much, but large enough to see my wife, wearing just panties, walk from the bathroom in the back to the bed just under the window. I drew back a foot or two. I didn’t know if she’d be able to see me peeking at her. My precaution was unnecessary however, as Annette’s eyes were fixed on the bed, along with her smile.
My wife’s breasts looked wonderful through the slight gap in the curtains. She has average sized breasts—I think she’s a C cup—and they’re amazingly soft and wobble when she walks. Her pink nipples were puckered hard, a sign of her arousal. I’d seen my wife’s boobs every night for years, but it amazed me how wonderful they looked through the motel window. I lost sight of her as she lowered herself onto the bed.
I walked away when I heard the voices of people coming toward me. An elderly couple was walking down the sidewalk toward their room. We said hello to each other as we passed. As soon as they disappeared, I returned to Annette’s room. After a quick peek through the gap revealed nothing interesting, I leaned on the wall as though waiting for someone.
By listening carefully, I could make out some of what they were saying through the cheap motel walls. I already felt a lump in my chest sitting on top of my stomach. It was the same sensation I would get watching a horror movie.
“Gary, you’re so hard. Oh God!”
It was my wife’s voice. The lump in my chest moved into my stomach, and I felt like I might throw up. At the same time, my rebellious cock was fully erect, feeling like it was ready to cum just from excitement.
His name was Gary. I racked my brain for any Gary’s in my wife’s life. I could not remember her mentioning anybody by that name at work. I drew a blank.
Annette talked dirty in bed with me only when she was very excited or we were using a fantasy. Now, she couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Gary, honey, fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Make me yours.”
My cock erupted in my pants. I wasn’t even touching myself, and I’d just had one of the best orgasms I’d ever experienced.
“I’m cumming, honey. Shoot inside me. I want to feel you cum.”
And the hits just kept coming.
I made my way back to my car, the jism in my pants beginning to cool and become uncomfortable. I knew they’d stick to me when I took them off. From what I’d heard, I had some time to get home and get changed.
As I was walking, two other vehicles parked in front of rooms close to Annette’s. It was a good thing I left when I did. As a police department detective, I was required to have my shield and a service weapon with me at all times. My shield was on a chain around my neck, hidden inside my shirt, and my gun was in an ankle holster. If I’d been spotted and the police had been called, I would have been caught spying on my own wife and would have had a lot of explaining to do.
Annette had always been the more adventurous one in bed. She was the one to make up stories we could tell each other to heighten the mood.
One of her favorite stories to tell me, while stroking my cock, was how she was seduced in a bar while I watched. Each time she told that story, it became more elaborate. How he kissed her and felt her up in the bar, until finally, I was watching him stuff his giant cock into my wife’s cunt—her exact words—and how she could see my hard-on as I watched. How watching me cum while watching her cheat made her cum so hard, she’d almost pass out.
Then he’d flip her onto her hands and knees—at this point Annette would get on her hands and knees—and he’d push his erection inside her. In real life, I’d kneel behind my wife and thrust inside of her while she tried to finish the story by telling me how hard he’d fuck her and how she’d scream out his name. She always used a different name in bed, and she’d always orgasm.
I felt deserted. I also felt a bitter, cold sadness, but after seeing her in the motel, I needed to find out more. I planned to search for evidence of my wife’s infidelity. I was building an airtight case, methodically and calmly, before I confronted her. I didn’t want a divorce; I loved her with all my heart. But my hard-on told me loud and clear that I wanted to watch.
Annette and I met in grammar school. She was the cute little dark-haired girl that sat on the other side of the room and was always so shy around boys.
Even then, she had large, bright eyes the color of emeralds. I didn’t know what an emerald was then, of course, but I do now. I thought her hair was black, but as I grew up, I realized that it was more of a unique, luminous, blue-black color. Her skin always looked golden to me; it still does. She looks like she has a light tan year-round.
I wasn’t exactly a lady killer. In fact, I firmly believed that girls had cooties, and, at that age, the sexes did not mix. Except Annette lived only two houses away and our mothers had arranged for us to walk the five blocks to school together. Every morning, I’d walk to Annette’s house and wait inside while she finished breakfast and her mother got her ready for school.
I know we talked during our walks, but I have no memory of what we talked about. It was natural, I guess, that Annette and I became friends. We played together some, although she wanted to play with dolls and I didn’t. I do remember that much.
In the summers, we’d play outside together. Annette was enough of a tomboy that we could have fun. She was even the first girl I ever kissed, which we did on a dare from some older girls. We were still very young, and all I remember was how close her face seemed.
In high school, it seemed natural that we’d date. After all, we’d known each other most of our lives and our parents were close friends. Also, we were in a large school where the only people we knew at first were each other.
I kept a copy of Annette’s school picture from those years; it shows a dark haired, serious young lady. She was tall and skinny, all elbows and knees, it seemed. It took time for me to grow enough to catch up with her in height.
We dated throughout our high school years, and we learned how to kiss; we practiced a lot. We were “going steady,” and I considered myself lucky; I was dating my best friend. We had little of the drama that the other couples had; we knew each other too well. I was as welcomed in her home as I was in my own, maybe more.
Looking back on that time, Annette was more in control of our relationship than I was. It just seemed natural to me because she’d always been the boss, even when we were very young.
We both did well in school, but after graduation, we went our separate ways. I went into the Army, and Annette went to college and then on to graduate school. We promised to keep in touch and that we’d always be together, but, of course, after a while, we didn’t talk as much. The emails became fewer, and we drifted apart.
Not all the way apart, though. We still said we were a couple, even as we tested our wings. At least, I know I did, and I’m pretty sure that Annette dated other men.
In the end, nobody measured up to her for me. They didn’t look as good, I couldn’t relate to them like I could to Annette, and I knew that she was the woman I wanted.
When I got out of the Army, I applied for a position with the police department and was accepted. That night, I took Annette out on a date, our first in a while, on the pretext of celebrating my new job.
I was scared to death. I had no idea how my plan would go. I had purchased an engagement ring that day. I didn’t even know if Annette was seeing anyone else, but I just wanted to make my intentions clear. If she wasn’t available to me anymore, well, I guess I’d have to live with rejection.
Every time we’d seen each other, it was like no time had passed. We could even pick up the last conversation right where we’d left off, even if it had been a year and we’d stopped talking mid-sentence.
“Jimmy, you’re quiet. You’re never quiet. What’s going on?” We’d had our appetizers and the first glass of wine. Annette was looking at me with a puzzled, concerned expression on her face. “I thought we were celebrating.”
She was so beautiful; no longer the gangly girl from school. She’d grown into a gorgeous woman. Tall, with the same sleek blue-black hair worn long, and she’d kept herself in wonderful shape.
She’d completed graduate school and was working for an investment banking firm. I wasn’t clear about what an investment banker did.
We were still the same height, although I seemed shorter because she wore heels. I still had the same wind-blown, sandy blonde hair, but I’d already noticed that some of it had gone missing from the top of my head.
“I have a question to ask you. If you don’t want to answer right away or you want to think about it, that’s okay.”
Annette’s hand was covering her mouth, her green eyes opened wide. “Jimmy?” she asked through her fingertips.
I opened the ring box and put it on the table, attracting the attention of the older couple sitting next to us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the older lady smiling and trying to get her husband’s attention.
“Annette, I love you. I’ve loved you since we were in grade school. I’ve never wanted to be with anybody but you. You’re my best friend. Will you marry me?” It wasn’t so bad once I’d started talking. We’d said thousands of words to each other over the years. I was asking my friend a question—did she want to spend her life with me?
“Oh God, Jimmy, of course I’ll marry you! What took so long?” We almost tipped the table over hugging each other. The older lady started to clap, and soon the entire restaurant knew what had happened.
We drank free Champagnethat night, followed by free mixed drinks as we extended invitations to half the restaurant to be at our wedding. We left with a pocket full of business cards and contact information scrawled on napkins.
On the sidewalk, I drew Annette close. Even wearing her winter coat, it felt right, natural that we were together. Every few steps, Annette looked at the ring on her finger. I’d even guessed her exact ring size.
We were at her apartment—I still lived with my parents—when Annette turned to me. “Jimmy, I’m still a virgin. I’ve never been with a man that way, and I think tonight should be the night I take care of that little problem.”
We barely made it to her couch before kissing led to her fumbling with my belt.
“Annette, God, look what you’re doing to me.” My cock was already a hard tube on the inside of my left thigh. Annette looked down and smiled before looking me in the eye and caressing my erection.
“I’ve never felt a man’s cock like this before. It feels really good. Just wait until you see what you’re doing to me.” She was smiling as she said it, all the while running her hand over my hard-on. I had to stop her before I came.
Taking me by the hand, she led me to her bedroom. As we kissed, she fell backward onto the bed, and I landed on top of her. Now my erection was pressing on the heat between her legs.
Moaning, Annette started to move under me, rubbing herself against my almost too hard cock. I began undressing her; even laying on her back, I had her blouse undone and her bra unhooked. I found myself kissing and sucking her perfect breasts as Annette’s moans became even louder.
Annette let me take the lead for a change. She’d always been the one in charge, but not tonight. I alternated kissing her lips and sucking on her breasts as she became more turned on. No longer satisfied with just rubbing against each other, she wrapped her legs around my waist to get better contact with my erection.
I reached down to pull her pants off, but she was ahead of me. Unbuttoning herself and pushing her pants, along with her panties, down her long legs until they bunched at her ankles. I watched in appreciation as my best friend’s body was revealed to me for the first time.
My hand was stroking her pussy the moment she started kissing me again. First, the hard little nub of her clitoris, and then the swamp of her vagina. Annette was as wet as I was hard.
She gasped as I touched her, pushing herself at my hand so that my finger slipped inside. As I finger-fucked her, Annette was busy trying to get my pants off me, but she was having trouble working my zipper and humping my hand at the same time.
We took a short break to strip off our clothing before hugging naked and falling back into bed. We landed in the same position we’d started in, with me on top. As our mouths met, my cock started to slip inside my future bride.
Annette stared into my eyes as I started to move, slowly pushing myself into her virgin pussy. She was so wet that there was almost no resistance, just the incredible wet tightness that I would get to know so well.
“Oh, Jimmy,”she said as she bent her head against my chest and wrapped her legs around my waist again.
I tried to go slow, all my weight on my knees and hands, but Annette wasn’t interested in slow. Bent almost in half, she was fucking up at me, hard. Grunting with each push, she was rushing toward orgasm. When it came, it overwhelmed her. She’d never been with a man before, and she’d cum within minutes of her first penetration.
In an odd turn, she’d cum and I hadn’t; wasn’t it usually the other way around? I tried to move again, but she stopped me.
“I’m tender. Can we just hold each other for a while?” She was sweaty in my arms, trying to catch her breath. We kissed and enjoyed the feeling of being together as I moved slowly inside her. When my movements didn’t cause her to protest, I thrust faster.
In moments, Annette caught up with me and was fucking me again. This time we came together; an all-time first for a newly engaged virgin—a mutual orgasm.
We spent the rest of the night making love, only stopping when I worshiped her body and ate her pussy or when she sucked my cock. I caressed her back and her perfect ass. Even though she said she wanted to sleep, we ended up making love again.
I was already in bed, pretending to sleep, when Annette got home that night. She slipped into her side of the bed smelling of cheap motel soap. I rolled her over and took her in my arms, kissing her and running my hand over her body.
“No, Jimmy, I just want to sleep,” she said, trying to push me away. I wasn’t so easy to push, and we both felt my erection poking her thigh.
“Jimmy, I’m tired. I don’t want to start something that you…well, you know.” I did know. It had been a long time since I’d been able to stay hard, so having an erection counted as a small victory.
“Let’s give it a try; I’m ready for you,” I said as my hand slid between her lips and into a very wet pussy. “It feels like you’re ready for me too. Let’s try.”
With an exasperated sigh, Annette rolled onto her side and pulled her knees up to her chest. As she faced away from me, it was easy to spoon her and slip my cock inside her. She was a little loose, used, as I pushed inside and started to fuck her.
At first, Annette was still, but soon, I heard little grunting noises every time I pushed in. Before long, she was pushing back at me and the noises were louder. I held her hips and just fucked her. I was banging my cheating wife as hard as I could, all the while thinking of her in that motel room and of the things she did with her lover. Her moans grew louder until she suddenly stiffened and came hard, just as I erupted inside her.
We’d had sex, and a mutual orgasm, for the first time in months, maybe years. I stayed inside her, still hard, as Annette lay on her side, panting. Eventually, she pulled away from me and my cock fell out.
“Jimmy, you’re still hard. What happened?” She sounded pleased but puzzled.
“I love you, Annette. I’ve loved you since we were in first grade. I guess I just needed the right night to show it,” I answered.
“Oh, Christ, Jimmy.” She looked guilty as sin as she kissed me and rested her head on my chest. At first, I thought she was going to confess, but instead, she fell asleep. I guess satisfying two men in the same evening wore her out.
Things were quiet for a while. I knew where Annette was and what she was doing most of the time, but I needed to find a way to get more information. Following her was out of the question; it took too much time and added too much risk.
I needed to get into her cell phone and her emails. I wanted to do it without breaking the law, but what the hell, I wasn’t building a criminal case. What difference did it make?
We’d talked about the sexual inadequacies I was having. They’d changed the way Annette looked at me. We’d even tried counseling, but nothing seemed to help. I had become impotent.
Annette’s attitude had swung from understanding to pity to hostility and finally, to indifference. I started out embarrassed and ended up angry and passive. We were on our way from being the perfect couple to being divorced, a possibility that was now closer than ever and something I would do anything to avoid.
I don’t fully understand what had caused my impotence. It certainly wasn’t a lack of desire for my wife. She’d make a point of parading in front of me naked, and I wanted her. Oh God, how I wanted her. But nothing seemed to work. Even the little blue pill wouldn’t do it. The doctor thought it might have something to do with the stress of police work because there was nothing physically wrong with me. The more time that passed and the harder I tried, the worse it got and the more frustrated and hopeless I felt.
It had gotten so bad that Annette bought a vibrator. I only knew she had it when I accidentally found it while looking for something else in the drawer next to her side of the bed. Before long, she was using it in front of me. The first time, I woke at 3:00 in the morning to the sight and sound of Annette masturbating with the vibrator next to me in bed. She had the covers thrown off, her legs were spread, and she was groaning as she held the battery powered device on her clit.
I watched, excited, my heart beating rapidly. I even played with my flaccid cock, trying to get hard. I stayed flaccid as I watched my wife orgasm, put her vibrator away, and, facing away from me, go back to sleep.
I was lying in bed, fully awake, with my thoughts running wild. Giving up on sleep, I got up and put on my running clothes. After covering five miles through the dark streets, I drove to the station. I was sure Annette felt abandoned by me, but I just felt like I wasn’t loved anymore. After using the locker room to shower and dress in my spare clothing, I got to work. There was always paperwork to do until my partner came in at 8:00.
One of the things I thought about as I ran was finding a way to check up on Annette. As well as finding out more about Gary, I also needed to find out if she was sleeping with anyone else.
I was building a case, and I was afraid of what I’d find, but my hope was to build a stronger marriage. I couldn’t explain why the thought of Annette sleeping with another man, despite the emotional pain it caused me, also turned me on so much.
Why did I get an erection listening to her in bed with another man? An erection so strong that I was still able to fuck her hours later, even after cumming in my own underwear? I had to come to grips with this reaction.
First, how did I track my wife’s movements? The department had some interesting gizmos that just might do the trick. One was a combination GPS tracker, broadcaster, and recorder about the size of a cigarette lighter. These things were only available to police departments and cost a small fortune. Of course, we didn’t buy them. They were given to the department by the Feds on a grant to fight terrorism.
We had never been able to use all of them, or even most of them. They were simply stored and available for any detective who had a plausible story to check one out. Coming up with a story was no problem, and before the end of the day, I had one programmed to broadcast to my cell phone.
The device was called “Listening, Sending Device, Remote” or LSDR. Around the precinct, we simply called them “LARS.” The broadcast function was the coolest part. It could broadcast live whenever I wanted it to, and it could broadcast whatever was recorded again upon demand. All that was needed was the number for the device and an activation code.
The atmosphere at home was defrosting a little. It wasn’t good but things were a little better. We were at least talking, but the thrill of hearing my wife making love to another man was never far from my mind. It was likely that when Annette stopped asking for sex, it was because she was finding it someplace else. We were doing better in bed now, but only because I could relive that night at the motel.
It was sad that the only way I could get excited enough to have sex with the woman I loved was to remember what she sounded like when she was being unfaithful to me. I was confused by my reaction. I didn’t understand why the sounds of her being unfaithful would excite me so much. That was not the outcome I would have predicted.
Being a cynic—all cops are, I think—it was only a matter of time until she cheated again. If she did it once, she’d do it again, and I wanted to know about it. I wanted to see it.
The first question was where to plant the LARS unit? Her purse seemed like the best bet and hiding it there turned out to be easy. Annette kept a world of crap in her purse, and a tiny slit in the lining seam was all I needed to hide the LARS unit and hold it in place with a small piece of double sided tape.
As soon as I knew Annette was at work, I tested the unit. All I heard were typical office sounds, somewhat muffled because she stuffed her purse in a desk drawer. The unit was designed to a degree of sensitivity that allowed for interference like a drawer. The government agency providing LARS never knew where the device would end up, so a desk drawer did not muffle the sound much.
I couldn’t listen to it all day. I had actual work to do at my desk, and I needed to be able to fast-forward through the boring work stuff.
That night, before Annette got home, I listened to the recording. Boring shit, until Gary called. The conversation between the two of them got interesting fast. I heard Annette start talking.
–Gary, stop it. We can’t talk like that while I’m in the office. She was panting and didn’t sound too convincing to me. The sound of her panting continued, along with the sound of her clothing rustling.
–Oh, God, Gary, we can’t. What if someone sees me?
–Yes, I’m touching myself. Annette answered to a question I couldn’t hear.
–Tell me what you want me to do.
A long silence followed while my wife listened to the telephone.
–I’m playing with my cunt. I’m about to cum for you, Gary.
The following Saturday, Annette left the house wearing a one-piece yellow sundress saying she was having lunch with girlfriends. It was a perfect time to test the GPS unit built into the LARS. Using the signal, I followed her. I wasn’t expecting to find anything but a restaurant with a bunch of her girlfriends.
I let her get two or three blocks ahead; the signal was strong and there was little danger of losing her. Besides, it was just a test. But she wasn’t heading to a restaurant. I followed her to a dingy industrial area where Annette parked her car and opened an unmarked green painted door on the side of a run-down building. In my mind, I was yelling at her, “Don’t do it…don’t go in there. Oh God, Annette!”
I didn’t need to follow her any longer. We were aware of the business being conducted behind that green door. My stomach was upset, and I felt like throwing up. At the same time, I had another erection.
I also didn’t need to follow her because all I had to do was turn on the computer. I already had their web address, as did almost every cop in town. They made internet videos; mostly with amateurs, and all pornographic. I will give them credit—their amateur videos involved at least one amateur, usually the woman.
I raced home and sat down to do a tour of their site. I even paid for an annual membership so I’d have access to the entire video library.
There she was on page 1, a thumbnail of Annette fully clothed. I double clicked and listened as a disembodied voice, a voice that sounded a lot like the same Gary I heard in the motel with my wife, asked her a series of questions. My wife was dressed differently than she had been earlier. I was hard again, just from looking at her.
Have you ever made a video before?
Who are you?
She gave a long, made up story about how she came to be there. The only part that was true was that she was married and her husband didn’t know she was thinking about being in a video.
Starring in a video, the voice corrected. Annette blushed.
–Yes, staring, I guess.
What kind of sex do you like?
–I like all kinds, she said, still blushing.
Do you like giving oral sex?
–Yes, and receiving too, of course.
–Maybe…I’m not sure. I’ve never tried it.
What’s the largest cock you’ve ever had?
–My husband’s, she said after more blushing and a short coughing fit.
How big is he?
–I don’t know.
Can you show us?
Annette held her hands about 7 inches apart and then made a circle with her fingers. She was pretty accurate, of course.
Your husband has a good size cock, doesn’t he?
–Yes, when he can use it. He has a hard time getting it up, and when he does, he can’t last very long. She looked sad.
She’d just stabbed me in the heart. My wife, on the internet, telling the world that my cock didn’t always work; that her husband was impotent! The reason she was always horny was because the husband of this gorgeous woman couldn’t get it up. I felt humiliated and disgraced; I could feel my face getting red. If any of the guys saw this, I’d be done, but to my surprise, my damn cock just got harder and started throbbing.
How often does he cum in your mouth?
–He never has.
Would you like to try that?
–Maybe. I don’t know. If I was really turned on…you know, excited…I might try it.
Well, Annette, we’d like you to get naked for us today. I know that our viewers would like to see your body.
–Not today, but maybe next time. You can still use this, can’t you?
Oh, yes. If there’s a next time, we can still use it.
I was wondering why they posted this; the woman was fully clothed and there was no sex. Yet, the little scorecard under the thumbnail picture of Annette rated this clip highly.
Ann—they were calling her Ann rather than Annette—have you ever been with a black guy?
–No, she said, shaking her head.
Would you like to meet the man who was going to be with you today? After all, he’s already here anyway.
–Just meet him? Sure, I guess that would be okay.
At this point, a very large, solidly built black man walked onto the set. He was completely naked, his flaccid penis swinging from side to side as he walked.
Ann, say hello to Jerome. Jerome, this is Ann.
I watched, my cock dripping, as Annette tore her eyes away from Jerome’s cock and held her hand out.
–Hi, Jerome. Her eyes went back to his cock, which looked like it was starting to get hard as she stared.
What do you think of Jerome, Ann? Do you think he’d be good in bed?
–Oh yes, he looks good.
I noticed you staring at Jerome’s cock, Ann. Would you like to touch it?
–I can’t, I shouldn’t. But my wife’s hand was already starting to reach for that amazing weapon.
Go ahead, Ann. Jerome, is it okay if Ann touches your cock? Would you like that?
Jerome, maybe if you asked Ann to touch your cock?
Ann, would you please touch my cock?
Through all of this, my wife’s eyes only flickered to Gary. She was mostly fixated on Jerome’s rapidly thickening cock.
I watched in stunned disbelief as Annette reached out and stroked Jerome’s black cock. At her touch, his cock jerked upward, and Annette pulled back in shock.
–Oh, wow, she quietly whispered, followed by an embarrassed laugh.
Again, she stroked it, and again, it jerked at her touch. This time, my wife kept stroking, and it kept getting harder. Soon, Jerome had a full hard-on, his circumcised erection pointing straight at my wife’s face.
Annette’s hand wrapped around his cock as far as it would go, which was not enough to completely encircle him. She started to pump, staring at his cock as a small drop of pre-cum appeared on the head.
Annette shifted on the couch, sitting sideways so that she could more easily reach the cock that so fascinated her. Jerome, an obvious professional, stood so that they both were on camera.
Ann, has your husband ever cum in your mouth?
Have you ever tasted cum before?
–No. She hadn’t bothered to even look at Gary.
Why don’t you give it a little lick, see if you like it?
I watched, my heart in my throat. I’d always thought that was just an expression, but it turned out to be true. My heart was pounding in my throat as Annette’s delicate, pink tongue reached out to catch Jerome’s drop of semen.
She didn’t seem to be in a rush to finish, licking the entire head of his black cock before swallowing. Her fingers were sliding over the mushroom shaped head as his cock continued to swell in her hand.
Did you like that, Ann?
Did he taste good?
Do you want to lick him some more? Maybe put him in your mouth?
Instead of answering, Annette leaned forward and captured as much of the head of Jerome’s cock as her mouth could hold. Her eyes closed, and it was obvious that her tongue was busy exploring this wonderful, hard cock.
Jerome, would you like to see Ann’s breasts?
How about it, Ann? Just let your dress down a little so Jerome can see you.
Annette didn’t answer. She just took her mouth off Jerome’s cock and, making sure that at least one hand was on him continually, pulled her dress straps off each shoulder and lowered the dress, showing her boobs. My wife hadn’t worn a bra to her new job that day. Her breasts looked better on the computer screen than I remembered them looking in the bedroom the night before.
As she went back to work on Jerome’s cock, he touched and played with my wife’s tits. The microphone was picking up the sound of Annette’s moans.
Do you like sucking Jerome’s cock, Ann?
–Oh, yes. Jerome bent at the waist and started to pull my wife’s dress up by the hem.
Jerome’s going to play with your pussy now, Ann. Is that okay with you?
For the first time, Annette seemed to notice what Jerome was doing. Her hand was still wrapped around his cock as far as it would reach. She watched her dress being pulled higher on her legs.
Maybe if you helped him, Ann? Maybe if you just took off your panties you could get back to Jerome’s cock.
My wife took her hand off Jerome, but stared at him as she lifted her butt off the couch and quickly pulled her panties off over her high heeled shoes.
Before she could drop them on the floor, Gary had them in his hand.
You’re very wet, Ann. Does Jerome’s cock excite you?
Why don’t you touch yourself for us, Ann, while you stroke Jerome’s big cock?
Without a word and without taking Jerome’s cock out of her mouth, Annette pulled her skirt up high enough that her entire pussy was exposed. My wife spread her legs and started to stroke her clit. Her pussy was obviously very wet and was yawning open. The swishing sound of a wet cunt could be heard on the video.
Jerome wants to touch your pussy now, Ann. After all, you’ve been touching his cock. Would that be all right?
Just lay back on the couch.
As Annette lay back, she didn’t lose sight of his black cock until Jerome bent to lick her already soaked pussy. As soon as he sucked my wife’s clit into his mouth, she started to cum.
She didn’t have a quiet little orgasm; this was a full-on earth-shaking cum. Annette bent in half, holding on to the back of Jerome’s head as her orgasm peaked. She was making a screeching noise that started deep in her throat.