by Ben Boswell
Oddly we didn’t seem out of place. Rachel might have been the only one blindfolded, but even that was obvious only on close observation. Otherwise, she might have been wearing her scarf eccentrically. And eccentricity was the name of the game.
There were women in five inch heels and mini-skirts, others whose boobs seemed desperate to burst free of their clothes. There were all sort of inappropriate couples. Men with women half their age, or a woman on each arm. There were men with shirts open to their navels, in a style not seen since the 1970s. A tall, butch lesbian in a tuxedo with a tattoo on the side of her neck played the straight-man in the group.
“What are we doing here?” I asked Tommy.
“Meeting a friend of mine,” he replied.
I felt Rachel shudder. A man to fuck her. Or maybe a woman? Or maybe both? Or maybe, in homage to San Fran’s Behind the Green Door past, maybe Rachel was going to be the entertainment, a participant in a live sex show for the enjoyment of the partygoers.
We moved into another parlor, and I realized he’d take my “chocolate” joke for real. Was it even a joke? Did I long to see that, another taboo broken, albeit it one now so common as to be a cliché? A man at the back of the room waved at Tommy, who nodded in response.
“I think that’s his friend,” I said.
“What’s he like?” Rachel asked.
“He’s black.”
And he was, very, very black, but I immediately realized that wasn’t the most notable thing about him. As we approached, he unfolded his long limbs, and I saw he was exceptionally tall, 6’6” maybe more. He looked familiar. A rap star? An athlete? I checked my assumptions. For all I knew he was a coder, who just happened to land early at Google or managed to get his latest App purchased for a billion dollars. As we approached, the others who’d been at his table scattered, though I could feel their eyes on us as they took up position around the room.
“He’s big, really big,” I added.
“So,” he began in a deep, deep rumble, “this is the beautiful lady you wanted me to meet.”
Tommy laughed. “Yeah, Ton, you like what you see?”
“She’s a sexy little thing,” Tony replied. He turned toward me. “And you don’t mind me playing with her?”
I shook my head, though I wasn’t sure if I was saying, no, I don’t mind or no, I do.
Rachel was twisting her head, craning her neck, as if that would somehow render the scarf transparent, allowing her to see what was going on.
“That’s a very sheer dress, you’re not wearing anything underneath,” Tony observed, his voice almost inaudible, blending in with the bass coming from elsewhere on the ship.
Rachel swallowed hard and then gave him a quick, confirming nod.
“Show me your pussy, beautiful,” he ordered.
She hesitated just a moment, and then pulled her hand free of mine. Or maybe I’d released her, giving her unconscious encouragement to proceed. The sensation of being observed, judged was almost overwhelming. I forced myself to breathe slowly. I noticed Rachel was doing the same, though she was moving at the same time, reaching down with both hands to seize the fabric of her dress and lift it up. The satin slid smoothly over her skin, her thighs. Though it remained covering her ass in the back, there was no uncertainty about what she was doing, exposing her naked pussy to this massive stranger.
He sat back down so that he was now face-to-face with my wife’s sex. He reached out and grazed her thigh, by the knee. She shuddered but didn’t withdraw. He touched her firmly, confidently, his fingertips finding her slit, pressing inside. She sighed.
“She’s a juicy little thing,” Tony rumbled.
His finger, his huge, long finger pressed further inside her.
“Think she can take me?”
Tommy chuckled. “Only one way to find out.”
Tony rose again and gestured toward a dimly lit stairway down to a private stateroom. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t going to take her in public. I took her firmly by the upper arm and began walking her toward the stairs.
She turned her neck behind her, and said, “Max, are you coming too?”
What did she mean?
Tony smiled as we passed. He was an experienced man. He’d led many women down into that cabin. She’d definitely have a good time. I sighed again. But why not with me? And then it struck me. As we passed him, I shook my head at him firmly. I saw him react with surprise, even anger, but Tommy’s hand was on his shoulder and he remained still.
I led Rachel down the stairs.
“Is my husband coming?” she asked, a little frightened, but also clearly very excited.
I didn’t answer her, and instead felt her tremble in my grip, realizing maybe that she was well and truly alone with a huge, deep-voiced black man. She looked back again, or maybe she was just trying to listen for more footsteps. We approached his big bed, covered with a gold-colored comforter. It was quieter down here, but we could still feel the music pulsing through the ship.
How would Tony handle her? It wasn’t hard to imagine. The kind of man who’d straightaway asked to see her pussy, who’d immediately fingered her, was unlikely to provide much romance. I edged her forward until her legs touched the bed, and then like a submissive little slut she immediately fell forward onto her hands and knees, her gorgeous little butt wiggling back and forth in her shiny dress.
A surge of anger flowed through me. God, she really was that easy, that much of a whore. Any man could have her if he only knew how to ask. I lifted up her gown and spanked her ass hard. My hand stung.
“Ow!!” she whined. Then immediately set to counting, “One!”
Spanked her again. I wanted to beat her until she cried out for mercy. But even as her cheeks reddened, I could feel my fury refocusing on her tight, little, wet snatch. As much as I wanted to hurt her, I wanted to fuck her more.
I began to undo my belt. She shivered and apprehensively tried to look over her shoulder. I seized and yanked on the scarf as much to control her as to ensure it didn’t come off. She stiffened as my pants hit the ground. I knew she was anticipating getting skewered by a huge cock. I knew that the moment my familiar prick entered her, she’d realize what was going on. I wanted to draw it out, but I couldn’t resist.
I thrust halfway into her. She let out a long, low moan.
“Ugh, God, Tony, you’re so big, so big. Go slow.”
I almost gasped in shock. How long had she known this was a put on? Then I noticed her body. She was trembling, gulping down big mouthfuls of air. Whatever the reality of it, in her mind she was on her hands and knees getting fucked from behind by an oversized stranger.
I pulled out almost all the way and hammered back into her.
“Ugh, God!”
I spanked her ass.
“Three!” she groaned.
Thrust, spank, “Four!”
Thrust, spank, “Five! Ugh, God.”
I sped up, faster and faster, until she lost count.
“Ugh, God, I can’t keep up.”
Her ass was beet red, my hand ached. She couldn’t keep up with the count, but she was getting ever more into the fucking, rocking back against me. Her pussy wet and grasping. Then suddenly, she arched her back.
“Ah, ah, ah, AH!” she cried out.
I felt her pussy spasm on my shaft. Tony’s shaft. I pictured the scene from her perspective. I couldn’t quite understand it, not anymore than I could really understand Donna’s interest in being gangbanged. At the same time, I could see the exoticness of it, the undeniable wickedness of it. Being brought to a yacht, walked blindfolded through partygoers, exposed to a stranger, and then turned over by your husband to be taken by a big, black stud. My own excitement peaked and before I knew it was coming as well.
I stepped back, my eyes drawn inevitably to her pulsing, pink slit. She remained on her hands and knees, breathing heavily, but available. Was she expecting Tony to resume his pounding, other men to take his place?
�
��What are you thinking of?”
She jolted and turned her head toward my voice, though she still didn’t try to remove the blindfold. “Max, did you watch the whole thing?”
I laughed. “It was me.”
She shook her head. “No, before.”
I removed the blindfold from her eyes. “Just me.”
She registered disbelief. Maybe even some anger.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Was this a… some sort of prank?”
She sat down heavily on the bed.
“No. No, I just couldn’t give you to him. I… I wanted you for myself.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry to keep putting you through this… this weirdness. My fucked-upness.”
“No, don’t Rach. Don’t. I wanted you for myself, but I loved that you thought you were with him. That you were able to lose yourself that way.”
She looked around, still more than a little shell-shocked. “Are we really on a boat?”
I nodded. “And we probably should get out of here. Tony didn’t seem pleased when I deprived him of you, and I doubt he’s happy with us tying up his fuck pad.”
We tidied up a little and then hand-in-hand crept up the staircase. We walked through the door into the salon. There were a few amused glances, but no one paid us much attention. Still, we stayed to the shadows and the edges of the room as we maneuvered out onto the deck. I spotted Tony, back to us, looming over a group of people. I pointed him out to Rachel, and she went wide-eyed. But I decided not to go over. Hey, buddy, no hard feelings about not getting to fuck my wife. Hope we didn’t leave a mess.
As we approached the walkway to the dock, Tommy cleared his throat.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked, amused.
“Yeah,” Rachel replied. “I don’t think I could take another pounding like the one I just got.”
He smiled. “Take the limo.”
“No, we couldn’t,” I replied.
“Trust me, I’ll get home alright. Anyway, I have plans that will keep me out late.”
I followed his eyes to a pretty, forty-something blonde standing next to her husband, who’s eyes kept disappearing into the cleavage of the woman they were speaking to. An underappreciated wife who might welcome Tommy’s attention. I laughed. Someone should write a book about the guy.
He leaned over and kissed Rachel on the cheek, a gesture than felt like more of a final goodbye than I had expected. She jolted with the same realization.
“We’ll be in touch,” he said to cut off further discussion.
-----
We sat in the limo and drank some more champagne. It was still early and the driver informed us the car was paid for until late, so we asked him to drive us around. Nowhere in particular, just to see the sights.
Rachel was curled up on the seat, dress pulled up and legs tucked beneath her. I rested my hand on her thigh, stroking it absentmindedly with my thumb. We were both lost in thought. Where we’d been as a couple, where we were going. I had a wicked thought.
“Do you regret not fucking him? Tony I mean.”
She looked at me. “No, of course not.”
A lie. The walls were building back up again.
“I bet he has a limo.”
She nodded. “Probably. Can you believe that yacht?”
“If you had screwed him, he probably would have driven you home.”
She laughed. “I doubt it.”
I ran my hand farther up her thigh.
“He might want another taste on the ride home.”
“Max, what are you talking…. Oh….”
I pulled the scarf from my pocket and fastened it again over her eyes.
I didn’t bother with an absurd attempt at his deep rumble.
“I shoulda put it in your mouth. You’d like that, right baby?”
She suppressed a small giggle, but played along. And actually the giggle worked for a ditzy whore who blows guys in the back of cars. “Of course, Tony.”
I quickly unzipped myself and pulled her face into my lap. She swallowed me deep and began bobbing down on my cock, not a wife making love to her husband, but a slut servicing her man. I rested my hand possessively on the back of her head.
“That’s it baby, suck it good. Get me nice and hard.”
She was almost too enthusiastic. I channeled the sentiment.
“Not so fast. I want to fuck you,” I growled.
“Now?” she asked, putting herself at my disposal.
“Yeah.”
I helped her climb into my lap. She reached down and worked my cock up and down her slit before settling onto me with a satisfied sigh. I slapped her ass lightly to get her moving, and she began to ride me vigorously, her sloppy pussy squishing on my prick. I lifted up her dress, exposing her ass.
“I put the divider down,” I whispered in her ear.
“Nooo.” She sighed.
“Yeah, baby, the driver can see just what a cheating whore you are.”
She growled excitedly.
I spread her ass apart, tickling her anus. I pushed my fingertip into her ass.
“Maybe I’ll give him a turn after I’m done.”
She came suddenly. I continued to thrust into her, hard at first, but then slowing down as we transitioned into making love. I removed the blindfold and we looked into each other’s eyes. We kissed, softly, tenderly, until I came inside her. Then we sat side-by-side, cuddling and enjoying a slow car ride home.
EPILOGUE
Tommy didn’t respond to my emails. But after a week or so, a package arrived from him. I opened it and found our long, wooden spoon and a thumb drive.
Max and Rachel:
I’m returning your spoon. I didn’t know if I’d need it again myself, but now you can put it to good use yourselves. And here are some lovely pictures of Rachel. I regretfully deleted them from my computer. It was great knowing you, and you can always count on me if you need me. But I think, you’ve got it.
Tommy
He was right about the spoon. Along with the scarf and the bathrobe that Donna had borrowed, they became like talismans for us, reminders of our wilder natures. Rachel wearing the bathrobe after a soak in the tub became an invitation to relive that evening with Donna. Sliding the spoon over her thigh elicited tingles of excitement. And the scarf… a wonderful blindfold, it was also perfect for binding her hands behind her back.
We were grateful to Tommy, both because he’d gotten us over a rough spot in our lives, but also because he’d let us go. He certainly needn’t have, and if he’d sought to remain in our lives, I’m not sure either one of us would have had the strength to expel him.
But even though we didn’t communicate with Tommy, he was still there. We speculated about his past. It was also a surefire prelude to a sizzling evening to imagine him with us. What would he do to Rachel? Where would he take us? Who would he introduce us to?
With her permission, I emailed him back Rachel’s pictures. The ones she’d sent to him and the one’s he’d taken of her. I like to think we’ll always have a bond. And as he said, if we ever need him we could summon him back to rediscover our kink. We haven’t had to do that yet, but then again, we’re still young.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I have been writing erotica for many years. I began publishing my work online at Literotica.com under the username Misterstan back in 2011. Those stories are a mixed-bag. Some were written more than twenty years ago and are, frankly, immature in both conception and execution. Still, some of those stories are pretty entertaining.
Reader feedback is what keeps me going. Please feel free to contact me at [email protected] or visit my blog at
benboswell.blogspot.com. You can follow me on Twitter
@BenBoswellAut.
I have written three other pieces of longer-form fiction.
Two Sides of Terri
Bill has just about the perfect life. Good paying job. Lovely home. Perfect children. And most of all, he has his wife Terri--sm
art, funny, great with the kids. Thing is, she’s a good girl trapped in a bad girl’s body. Blonde, busty, and devastatingly beautiful, she makes him want to do dirty things--things you don’t admit to wanting from the girl-next-door.
Or so he thought.
It starts with a revelation about Chucky, a past boyfriend, and everything he thought he knew about his sweet wife unravels. He becomes obsessed with learning more about this other side of Terri--and everything he learns points back to Chucky, a man she couldn’t say no to. Does he dare invite her past back into their present? And if he did, would she now be able to say no?
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Two-Sides-Terri-Ben-Boswell-ebook/dp/B00HSCMZTW
Whatever it Takes
Daniel and Kris are as white bread as they come. Together since junior high, they have two kids, a house in the suburbs, and no excitements in their lives. Things change when Kris’ little sister Jessi moves in. Jessi is everything Kris isn’t, reckless, promiscuous, and mixed up with very bad people. As their two orbits intersect, Daniel and Kris get dragged into Jessi’s world of drug dealers, strip clubs, and prostitution. Can they survive the dangers? And even if they do, will their marriage?
Fueled by their love for each other, and drawing on a strength and resourcefulness they never realized they had, Daniel and Kris are desperate to recover their old lives. To do so, they will do whatever it takes!
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Whatever-It-Takes-Ben-Boswell-ebook/dp/B00KABTO42
Honeymoon Hazards
After being together for seven years, John and Claire marry and jet off to beautiful Hawaii for their honeymoon. It is a paradise of hard bodies in tiny bikinis, mixed drinks consumed in the hot sun, and a resort built for private encounters.