Our Dark Secret

by Derrin Hart

  She looked so good, so slim and in shape. He slid her new panties down and her mostly shaven bush made its first appearance. He stood and they kissed passionately again. She worked his belt loose, undoing his pants and letting them drop to the floor. He pulled his own shirt over his head.

  She stood while her bull stroked his enormous cock. They slowly moved to the bed and sank down into it, holding each other tight. He moved her in a circle around him and into the sixty-nine position. She was surprised yet willing as he darted the tip of his tongue into her exposed cunt lips.

  She concentrated on his thick hard cock and flicked at his head with her tongue. She looked so sweet in her pink fishnets and painted fingernails to match. Her makeup was subtle and her lips, smudged with pink as well, had a soft glow. She was soon open enough and he dug into her soft mound of sweetness. She sucked his colossal prick and they were lost in foreplay.

  Before too long she wanted him inside her, remembering the time before and long hours of deep dicking pleasure. She mounted him and again eased onto his shaft, taking him fully and smoothly. He was amazingly hard all night, delaying his own orgasm to the very end. He was a sexual machine for her. She rode him and cried out in pleasure, “I wanted this; I needed this.”

  He cupped her full breasts and tweaked her large swollen nipples. They fit perfectly, and she rode him like a wild cowgirl for what seemed over an hour. As they finally separated, he pushed into her from on top, passing his shaft deep into her and reaching around to grab her ass cheeks.

  As he thrust all thick nine inches into her fold, she took it all and grabbed his ass back, pushing and squealing all the while. They fucked hard and went on for quite some time before she cried out in orgasm. He rolled off of her, now panting, sweating and moaning. He was just getting started.

  They took a little break, but she was far from finished. To arouse him again she danced about on the hotel floor, teasing and stripping to music on the radio. “Baby’s Got Back” played on the radio, and she took great advantage of this tune and shook her bubbly butt to the music and to the pleasing view of her stud. His cock was up again, hard as ever, and he beckoned her to him. She teased more and kept out of reach. He liked what he saw and stood up to take her in his arms. My wife was ready to play, and he was too. She knelt on the floor and took him to a chair. Her mouth slid onto his hardness again as she sucked him silly. Her ass, now visible to me across the room from my place on the couch, was full, round and bouncing about. It was sight for the ages—what an ass, what a girl. Her swollen slit was gaping and wanting.

  Still rock hard, he stood and led her to a nearby table. Pushing the drinks and whatnot off the table, he dropped her on its top. Things crashed to the floor. Looking deeply into his eyes, she winced as he parted her legs to expose her aching, swollen pussy. As he pushed into her, she cried out, “Oh yes!”

  They moved to the bed again, and this time he had her get on top, facing away from him.

  This gave me a good view of her open cunt lips and swollen loins. His huge shaft pushed in and she rode him. They mated in unison and soon she could not help but touch herself, pushing away at her clit in orgasmic preparation. His shaft was so thick, so huge, her pussy so open, her labia major so split. She was getting very vocal, ready to explode. “Oh yes, oh my God, I’m going to cum!” she cried out. “Ohhhh, ummgh, oh, oh, yes, yes …” They kept going, and she exploded again and kept going, ready to burst again. She bounced on him over and over; he was still hard and huge. He fit perfectly and she came again, screaming in lust. Soon he wanted to come, too.

  She jumped off him, grabbed his cock and stripped the condom away, stroking. She worked him into a frenzy until his cum was gushing all about.

  Yet he was not through. They teased some more, lying sideways on the bed. They kissed and probed each other’s necks, gaining momentum for more play. He was hard again in minutes and fingered her into wanting more, much more. Moving onto her, he deep-dicked into her moist opening, which welcomed him once more. This time he pounded harder, forcing his will into her.

  He held tight, driving his enormous cock deep into her. She moaned with pleasure and took it hard. He fucked her harder than anyone ever had. He made it a point to make her scream.

  He cried out again in orgasm and they grasped each other tighter. It had been another three-hour screw session. Don had been rougher this time—that was obvious—and I liked it much more.

  My wife was mine to romance, mine to love. For him, she was a sexual friend, someone to fuck, to sexually pleasure, nothing more. He had done well. We said our goodbyes, and off we went. A new year was on its way.

  It was obvious Sara had liked the sex, yet she made a point of mentioning that he had been rougher than the last time. I knew she missed the romance. In fact she got a little angry, saying that she missed Tyron and that it was really time for them to meet again. We argued some on the drive back, and at home during the following week. My excuses not to meet him had run dry and had no choice but to give in. Reluctantly I made a date to meet for a few months down the road. Tyron was eager to have my wife again; there was no denying that that fact. He made reservations himself for a place fairly close to our city. She was worth the long drive. When she heard about the arrangements, Sara’s entire demeanor changed, and all was right in the household.

  In the following weeks I kept an eye on the pics I had printed and the black dildo in the closet; there was movement almost every night. Sara was masturbating regularly now while awaiting the meeting with her top star stud. In the meantime, I scheduled an encounter with someone else for a month away at an amusement park out of town. A black guy I had been in touch with online had found a free weekend to hit the town for some fun. He was a sexy French fellow who I thought Sara might take a liking too.

  I had also been in touch with a white guy who seemed cool. By chance, he lived nearby the park; I programmed him into my cellphone in case the other dude failed to show. My wife, who was fully focused on the Tyron get-together, was by no means thrilled by the prospect of any other encounters. She agreed, however, out of the need to escape from work and what not. Plus, she was soon to be reunited with her main squeeze; that thought excited her enough to make her willing to enjoy a Saturday night full of fun and mischief.

  During the next month we fought a lot. Sara wanted more sex than I could provide personally or through our escapades. We had a serious talk about the future and how swinging may not be in the cards. We had had a few bad encounters that were still eating at her. The best ones—the ones she craved more of—were few and far between. We talked again about her having just one serious lover, a best buddy she could meet once a month. In no way could we agree on who that would be.

  I did not want some romantic trying to win her heart, and that was exactly what she wanted. So things were bleak. She wanted more sex, loving heartfelt sex, yet she wanted it to last for hours—

  for me to be so excited and hard that I could pound her non-stop. I needed fantasy and kinky words. I wanted her to be nasty and talk about the studs who satisfied her, to talk about what she wanted them to do. But in bed with me she spoke few words; all she wanted was closeness. We just could not find the right mix.

  I envisioned us meeting many men and sharing many sexual adventures. I knew how young she still was and how her appetite for sex—once she rid herself of the guilt—was insatiable. She was still thinking deep inside that monogamy was the way to go, while suspecting that the only way to satisfaction was through swinging.

  Shervay was to meet us that Saturday night. I could only hope Sara found him sexy. We needed a good night out, she needed sex, and I needed to see her happy. We met up at a small bar overlooking the beach, and at first glance I thought he was a good possibility. Sara, however, seemed disappointed. We sipped cocktails and chatted some; his French accent was not very noticeable. He was a talker, but not the flirty type that turned my little hotwife on. He seemed boring. I tried to make the best of it, as did my wife, but the
encounter was going nowhere. They did not bond. Sara looked sexy in her tight jeans and snug-fitting blouse. We had a hotel room reserved nearby and the anticipation of a good connection still lingered in both our minds.

  Drinking was liquid courage for her, but even after a few drinks she was not into Shervay. We hit a dance club nearby and even that did nothing to get the night going. I told Shervay that Sara would not be up for anything else that evening, so we could free up the rest of the night for other attractions.

  I called the white guy I had corresponded with online earlier in the week. Being nearby, Steve agreed to shoot over to meet us. The clock had struck eleven, and Sara was hesitant and growing tired. Steve took a while to arrive. I tried to keep Sara ready and excited, but she was losing interest quickly. When Steve finally showed up at the bar, he seemed somewhat cool. I hoped Sara liked his looks. He bought us drinks and chitchatted easily enough. Online he had mentioned he was very well endowed for a white guy and that was an exciting thought.

  We hit the dance floor, and I separated from the two of them to give them time together. It was getting really late, and I figured it was now or never. When I returned Sara was not happy and ready to drive home. She was not interested in Steve and enough was enough for the evening. It was a rotten night, to say the least.

  I had no other choice but to set up the Tyron meet as soon as possible. A date was set for the big second encounter with her favorite black stud. She was really upset though. These bad meetings had been so frustrating; I myself felt that perhaps our swinger days were coming to an end.

  As the second date with Tyron drew nearer, my wife was more excited for a swinging trip than I’d ever seen her. She was working out constantly and eating so healthy I was amazed. She looked fabulous, never better. We shopped for new outfits, and she bought some really wonderful articles—including jewelry, special nail polish, and even a piercing that was a dangler just for Tyron to see. I found it all overblown. I thought, At least she is wildly horny again and excited to swing. The first time they’d met it had seemed rushed, although crazy successful. A second meet, better planned, could be hot. I just hoped he would lay off the whispering of sweet nothings and bang my little kitten the way she loved to ball. I mean, enough with the loving gestures; we were meeting for sex—nothing more, nothing less.

  The day finally arrived, and she showered and sang in the bathroom. She gave herself the closest shave ever, leaving her sweet pussy almost bald. She put the silver dangling star belly piercing on, and man was it hot. A black skirt was laid on the bed, along with a very sexy red blouse. Her panties were side-tie red skimpy thong style and her bra a black pushup number. A pair of black high heels completed her wardrobe for the night.

  We planned a dinner at a cool bar and drove the few hours to the meeting. I was uneasy on the drive, knowing that this guy was a real charmer, a gigolo in truth. You see, he had told me things I’d hidden from Sara … how many wives and girlfriends he had bedded asked for him secretly without their partners’ knowledge. How he’d had three hundred lovers and how Sara was in his top five. As he put it, she had a super personality. I laughed at that. Had he forgotten about her voracious sexual appetite? I kept thinking of all the times Sara had viewed the pictures that I’d placed on the top closet shelf of her and him engaged in various acts. I knew she constantly masturbated to them. Here at last was her big chance once again. She was giddy the entire ride.

  We were the first to arrive at the small, secluded restaurant—more like a sexy bar than an eating hole. Sara had slipped a long red trench coat over her outfit to tease Tyron when he arrived.

  She was one hot ticket, a beautiful young voluptuous blonde. She was a woman on a mission, too, a mission for sex. After we’d waited a few minutes, I made my way to the bathroom, and when I came out, I spotted Sara running out the door into the parking lot. Outside I found her in his arms—hugging, smiling and blushing . “Oh dear,” she said, “I missed you so much.” This was weird—almost too weird—and I felt jealous for the first time.

  We sat down and indulged in shrimp cocktails and chocolate martinis. The two of them locked eyes and flirted the whole time. I felt like an outsider, a true cuckold serving the couple before me. She was not acting like herself—tipsy already and laughing and joking and giggling.

  He knew all her hot spots, those within her brain. He fucked her mind. He made her anxious for more.

  We made our way to the hotel. Tyron suggested Sara get acquainted with the suite and for us guys to go downstairs for a bit. She loved the idea and we headed to a sports bar on the lower level of the hotel. When we were alone—just us men—he made small talk to pass the time. We both liked sports, so that gave something to discuss. I made it a point to tell him to fuck my wife harder this time, to be more intense, try wild things make her go nuts. In my mind I was thinking, enough with the whispers and sweet words of loving and the things that made her feel all warm and fussy.

  I wanted this stud to pound my wife’s oversized hole—to nail her silly.

  After we returned, it took very little time for the two of them to embrace. He was a master of foreplay. His main weapon was the tease, and it sent my wife sky-rocketing. They nibbled necks, darted tongues, and looked in each other’s eyes. I was getting bored already. For an hour they kissed, talked, and touched. No clothes were taken off.

  I played some hip hop party music. Sara wanted it louder, yet I kept it low so I could hear their exchanges. This guy talked to her with so many words it was insane, telling her how nice she looked, how he loved her smile, how much she sparkled this evening … for God’s sake, give me a break. She ate it up, too. Slowly he slipped off her red blouse, and she gently eased him out of his button-down shirt. They kissed over and over, madly holding hands. Lovingly, he placed her on the bed and slid off her skirt, revealing her red side-tied bikini thong panties, her dandy body piercing and a body she had exercised regularly for just this very moment.

  They rolled about the bed, kissing some more. I mentioned drinks, and he offered this in reply: “Why don’t you go downstairs and have a drink? We’ll be fine right here.” I did not take that comment well. What an ass, suggesting the cuck be gone and leave his wanton wife in Tyron’s arms half-naked. Tyron’s lips licked at her big nipples now, dancing a jig around the protruding tips. He eased her panties down ever so slowly to reveal her already wet cunt. Her lips were full and swollen and juicy. He circled them and ate her pussy for almost an hour. She squirmed with delight and seemed dazed with desire, her eyes glazed over.

  After he had finished showing off his oral skills, the stud took her in his arms and went back to the verbal seduction. I heard him say how he’d like to wake up with her in the morning and cook her a good breakfast. My camera battery was dying after the drawn-out foreplay, and he still had his pants on. Finally he made the move to remove his pants; he had held out for an hour, if not longer, in order to catch his prey in a web of seduction. He slid off his shorts, allowing his large prick to spring free, the mushroom head large and swollen. Sara grabbed his member and stroked it hard. After they kissed some more, Sara placed her mouth on his now stiff penis.

  Gently she ran her mouth along the shaft of his member. She took him deep, and he moaned with delight. She sucked him up and down, the kind of blowjob that I had received from her maybe twice in our over ten years together. His bulging head jutted her cheeks open, urging her to open wider. She loved his bald pubic region, his shaven face, and his hairless balls. She pumped her mouth on him and he rose to full attention. But he would not come yet, although his thick cock was ever so ready.

  They embraced again, laughing and playfully pressing into each other. He had her ready for more but was holding out on purpose. Sara wanted him, wanted him badly. I hoped she could not hold back, that she would mount him and ride him like a wild animal. But, the setting was more seductive, more erotic. He slid on a magnum condom and slowly positioned himself between her legs. They kissed and joined bodies as he delve
d inside her open, moist labia. She was soaked and open wide for him. He slid in fully and they melted together. When she looked up at him and said,

  “This is so wonderful, you have my spirit now. Make love to me,” I nearly lost it.

  They fucked for an hour in missionary. Then, finally, he did a little of what I had asked. He placed her doggy style on the floor, spanked her ass repeatedly, and fucked her hard— right on the hotel rug. That at least got me semi-hard. I looked on with more interest now. Afterward he pulled her to her feet, placed a chair against the wall and had her straddle him facing away. That, too, was interesting, but in time they again ended up in missionary, banging away, kissing all the while and whispering sweet nothings. She had an orgasm and announced how incredible it felt. They rolled around for many more minutes, teasing and fondling various body parts.

  I had to speed up the action. I mentioned loudly that our babysitter could not stay late, that we needed to hit the road. I mean, hours of this was enough! He had not come and she knew it.

  Again she took him in her mouth and in a few moments he cried out in delight, shooting his wad into her small hand as she continued to lick his penis.

  A second blowjob in one night. Wow, this guy rated high.

  It was a while before we left the hotel. The two of them wanted more; they chatted and joked as I kept insisting we needed to leave. Even when we were outside he made his way to our car and talked more. After we drove off—much to my relief—Sara was at no loss for words. “Wow, that was awesome, so fun! What a great night.” I listened to these rave reviews for miles and miles on the open dark road. I knew deep inside that I had seen the last of Tyron. I was through with him.