by Bart Tracer
“So, Jamaal?” I asked.
Jenny shrugged, “Not necessarily. It could be Scott. Maybe. Or one of the others. We’ll have to see what happens. Who knows? We may be getting way ahead of ourselves. Maybe they wouldn’t even be interested!”
I thought about that for a minute. My minded drifted back to the way they had looked at her on the beach this afternoon, a helpless lamb surrounded by hungry wolves. No way in hell they weren’t interested! Hell, had they all given her their telephone numbers?
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jenny! Those guys were beyond interested! And Jamaal in particular,” I said, remembering his ebony hands roaming across her body. “You know, I think… I mean, if anything were to happen… I think it would be more exciting if it was with Jamaal.”
“Really?” she asked, giving my shaft a long slow lick. “Why’s that? Does my husband have a secret interracial fetish he has yet to tell me about? Want to see your lily-white wife taken by a black man?”
Her words caused me to gasp and my dick flexed powerfully in her hand. An enormous, clear drop of pre-cum oozed from the slit.
“Wow!” Jenny said. “Apparently so! I’ll have to keep that in mind!”
“It’s not that. Well, not just that!”
She leaned forward and captured the dollop of pre-cum with the tip of her tongue, her eyes never leaving mine. “What is it then? Why would it be more exciting with Jamaal?”
“Because…” I hesitated, suddenly reluctant to admit this last little kink. Oh, what the hell! I said to myself. In for a penny, in for a pound! “Because of his size. Because he’s so big! So much bigger than me. I… I want to watch you take a really big one!”
Jenny froze, looking up at me wide-eyed. “That would turn you on? For me to fuck a guy with a really big cock?”
“Yeah. Pretty fucked up, huh?”
“No, baby! I think that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard!” Then, she swallowed my cock to the root and sucked me like a mad woman. I lasted about two minutes before pumping my third load of the evening down my wife’s hungry little throat.
Chapter 8
In the light of the new day, I worried that I had gone too far last night. Somehow, confessions that seem harmless when you are in the throes of carnal pleasure seem pretty scary when viewed through the lens of rational, objective thought.
To make matters worse, my wife was gone when I awoke. Shit! I thought jokingly. Maybe she decided to leave me after realizing what a pervert she was married to! But, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes I saw a folded slip of paper on the nightstand. I reached for it and, opening it, found a note from Jenny:
Good morning sweetheart!
You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to do a little bit of shopping. I should be back by noon. Then, we’ll see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight!
Love,
Your not-so-innocent wife
XXXOOOXXXOOO
I couldn’t help chuckling to myself. I looked at the clock. 10:32. That gave me plenty of time for a shower. I got to my feet and headed toward the bathroom.
I was sitting in the living room, watching TV when I heard the room’s door open at 5 minutes after 12. “Ken?” came Jenny’s voice. “I’m back!”
“In here!” I called.
Jenny smiled when she turned the corner and saw me. “Hi, babe!” she chirped, staggering past me and tossing several shopping bags onto the chair before sitting down next to me on the sofa. “Whew!” she sighed, slumping into the cushions. “Next time, remind me to bring you along! Those things were getting heavy!”
“It looks like it!” I nodded toward the pile of bags. “What did you buy, gold bullion?”
“Better! Clothes!”
“Ugh!” I laughed. “Boring!”
“Not so fast, buster! I really doubt you’ll find any of the stuff I bought today boring!”
“Oh? Do tell!”
“It’s kind of a long story, but I needed a couple of outfits for this evening.”
“This evening?”
“Well, I guess you saw the guys giving me their phone numbers on the beach yesterday afternoon?”
“Yeah, how could I forget?”
“Well, obviously they have mine, too.”
“Obviously.” I wasn’t quite able to keep the sarcasm out my voice.
She stuck out her tongue at me. “Anyway! So, my phone has been going crazy all morning. Like, one text after another. Buzz, buzz, buzz! Inviting me to lunch, dinner, dancing, swimming, anything they can think of. To tell you the truth, I think they’re having a little contest. You know: see which one of them can nail the MILF.”
“You’re not even close to old enough to be a MILF, Jenny.” I felt a little shiver of excitement run through me at her mention of these young guys trying to get her into bed. Nailed? Jenny didn’t use words like ‘nailed’!
“Well, whatever’s going on, they are flooding my phone with messages. And I’ll tell you, some of them are pretty racy! So, after the conversation we had last night, I thought, ‘Why not?’ I said ‘yes’ to one of their invitations.”
“Really?!!”
“Uh huh! Your wife has a date tonight, Ken!”
Holy fuck! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! A date? O God! Did that mean she was actually thinking about going through with what we had talked about last night? Was my wife really considering sleeping with another man? I stared at her, not sure what to say. “Really?!!”
“Sweetie, you’re repeating yourself. Anyway, so I looked through the clothes that I brought with us and decided that all of it made me look old. I needed something nicer, something with a little more flair. Know what I mean? So, that’s why I’ve been shopping for the past two hours.”
I looked at the giant mound of sacks on the chair. “You needed all that?”
“Ken, Ken, Ken,” she shook her head. “Haven’t you learned that a girl needs options? I do want to look my best for my date!”
Damn! She was buying new clothes to impress one of the guys I had seen her flirting with. You don’t buy a new wardrobe just so a guy will look at you. Maybe she really was thinking about being naughty! I swallowed and tried to nonchalantly shift my growing erection into a more comfortable position. “Um, okay… so… well, which one of them are you going out with? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, it’s more like ‘lucky guys’.” She smiled and batted her eyes at me. “Jamaal and Scott are taking me to dinner and then dancing.”
Jamaal and Scott. Jamaal, whom we had discussed last night as my wife was sucking me off on this very same couch. The guy I had told her I would like to watch her with. This seemed like one hell of a coincidence!
Reading my thoughts, Jenny leaned over and kissed my cheek. “After all, I seem to remember somebody wanting me to spend a little time with Jamaal!”
She was right, of course. I really, really wanted to see her with Jamaal. The memory of his huge black hands spreading suntan lotion on my wife’s back was indelibly seared into my brain. Right next to the picture of her kissing him at the dance club! Oh fuck!
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About this little game of ours? I can text them and tell them I can’t make it, if you’re not ready. I understand, if you…”
I held up my hand, cutting her off. “No. No. That’s not it. It’s just… a surprise. Just sort of unexpected. I want you to go. God, Jenny! I really want you to go!”
“And if it turns into more than dancing?”
“I think we both know, that’s why I want you to go. I’m hoping something more will happen! Baby, this isn’t just some new little fascination. I didn’t just decide this morning that it would really turn me on for you to do something with another man. I’ve felt this way for years. I’ve just been hiding it.”
“So, when you say ‘something’, you mean…”
“Shit Jenny! Are you really going to make me spell it out? I’m saying you c
an sleep with him! With Jamaal. I want you to fuck him. And then, I want you to come back here and tell me all about it! In bed, of course!” I smiled.
Her eyes searched my face as she thought about my words. “Okay. If you’re sure. God, baby! This is so exciting! I can’t tell you how much it turns me on that you want me to do this! It’s just too bad that you won’t actually get to watch. If anything happens, that is! I’d really like for you to be there if it did.”
“I know, Jen. Believe me, I’d give anything to see Jamaal fuck you! It’s my biggest fantasy! God baby, if you only knew how many times I’ve imagined this. I just don’t see how. I mean, that would probably be pretty awkward for him, with your husband watching and all.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” she nodded.
Switching gears a little, I asked, “So, what about Scott and Jamaal? Don’t they think it’s a little odd that a married woman is going out clubbing with a pair of college-age guys while her husband waits back at the hotel?”
There was an awkward silence. Jenny chewed on her lip and stared at the floor. “Actually,” she said quietly, “don’t be mad, but I might’ve accidentally told them about a couple of the things we’ve been talking about.”
“What?! You… You told them?”
“Oh, come on, Ken! They’re not idiots. Your reaction at the dance club made it pretty obvious that you’re not the jealous type. The first thing they asked me when they saw me on the beach yesterday was just what kind of arrangement I had with my husband. They were pretty convinced that we are swingers or something.”
“And what exactly did you tell them?”
“The truth. It seemed the simplest solution. I told them that you and I were thinking about spicing things up a little, trying some new things. That you were into watching me with other guys.”
I put my hands on my head, trying to catch my breath. Shit! Shit! They knew about me? This was getting out of control! “Fuck, they must think I’m a freak!”
“No! No! Not at all!” Jenny laid a hand on my arm. “It’s all right, Ken. They’re both pretty open-minded. They actually thought it was really cool that you were so understanding, that you’d let me do something like that.”
I took a deep breath, feeling a little calmer. “So, they know?”
“Uh huh.”
“So, your date tonight… Jamaal probably assumes…”
“Uh huh. Probably.” She turned my head toward her and kissed my lips, then let her hand trail down my chest to my lap, where she cupped my erection. She gave me a playful squeeze and said, “He probably thinks he’ll be getting some of this married pussy. Tell me that doesn’t excite you!”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything. I just sat there staring into her eyes with my heart pounding in my chest and my dick throbbing in her little hand.
“Yep. That’s what I thought!” She kissed me again, then hopped to her feet and gathered up her shopping bags. “I’m going to go put some of this stuff away. Why don’t you order lunch?”
I truly believe that that was the longest day of my life. The afternoon seemed to drag on forever, the hot Florida sun hanging immobile in the clear, blue sky like a sun in a painting. With nothing to do but wait, I was nervous. The enormity of what might happen tonight weighed on me. I was impatient, yet terrified. One second, I was filled with eager excitement. The next, I had firmly decided to call the whole thing off. I paced and pondered and looked at the clock, cursing it when it never seemed to change. But slowly, oh so slowly, evening finally came.
Unlike me, Jenny, was busy the whole time, trying on outfits, accepting or rejecting this accessory or that, making sure the earrings matched her necklace and myriad other little feminine tasks that I only vaguely understood. In a way, I think her busyness was her way of coping with the nervousness I knew she had to be feeling.
An hour and a half before she was to meet Jamaal and Scott on the beach behind the hotel, she locked herself in the bathroom and made her final preparations. I heard the water running, followed by the sound of her splashing in the tub. Next, came the hair dryer and an incessant series of clattering noises that told me she was applying her makeup.
When she emerged from the bathroom in the outfit she had ultimately selected, she was beyond stunning! Talk about worth the wait! I now understood why she had invested so much time in perfecting her look, and I had to admit her artist’s eye had not failed her. In all the years of our marriage, I had never seen her look so gorgeous!
She wore a skintight crop-top that was too elegant to be trashy, but just barely. Long-sleeved and black, it hugged her small titties like a second skin. The collar was high and tight, encircling her slender neck just below her Adam’s apple. For some reason, this extra bit of coverage served only to accentuate the sexiness of her outfit. Beneath the top her toned, flat, little tummy was bare, her belly button just concealed by the waistband of the mini skirt she wore.
With a hem that stopped a good deal short of mid-thigh, the skirt itself was nothing short of a work of art. Like her top, the skirt was black, but with an intricate, bright blue splash of flowers cascading down one side that practically forced your eyes to linger on it. Not that your eyes wouldn’t have lingered anyway! The thin, stretchy fabric of the skirt clung to my wife’s tight little ass, accentuating every curve. God! That ass of hers was to die for! It practically begged you to touch it. And I knew that that was her intention!
As tight as her skirt was, I was surprised not to see any panty lines. No sooner had the thought popped into my mind, than I realized why. My sweet wife wasn’t wearing any panties! As the thought registered, my eyes flew back up to her chest, where I immediately saw the telltale bumps of her nipples telegraphing through the fabric of her crop top. No bra either! Any doubts I had about her intentions crumbled to dust at the realization that my wife was completely underwear-free.
Her legs were bare, her feet encased in a strappy set of heels that were so tall I found myself wondering how she would be able to dance in them. But what those heels did to her calves made it worth the inconvenience. Fuck! Those legs of hers could have given a dead man a boner!
Her silky, jet-black hair was pulled back into a cute ponytail that bounced when she moved her head, secured by a little blue ribbon in the same shade as the flowers winding their way down her hip. It provided a certain playfulness to her ensemble, giving her an air of slutty innocence that was maddeningly irresistible.
A pair of large loop earrings dangled from her ears, so unlike the small studs she usually wore. After all the time she spent in the bathroom, I was surprised to see that her makeup was fairly minimal. Just a hint of eyeshadow and blush. Her lips, on the other hand, were blood red, a shade that perfectly matched her nail polish.
It was definitely a different look for her. That, I could not deny. As I looked her up and down, my mind constantly alternated between the words “slutty” and “classy”. She was dressed to impress, dressed to be noticed, and I had very little doubt that she would be noticed by many different men before this night was through.
It wasn’t until Jenny cleared her throat that I realized that I had been staring. “Sorry!” I muttered, meeting her eyes. “It’s just that you look gorgeous! Really, baby! Wow! You’re a knockout!”
“Aw! How sweet!” she gushed. “Thank you, honey!”
She turned side to side with her hands held out, showing me her outfit. I groaned out loud when I noticed that the back of her crop top was a latticework of crisscrossing straps that left most of her back naked. God! It was one thing for me to know that my wife was braless, but that fact would also be immediately obvious to anyone who saw her from behind. It was so daring, so naughty… so perfect!
With a self-satisfied grin, she reached into her purse and took out a bottle of perfume. I watched as she applied a little spray to her wrists and rubbed them together, then placed a drop behind each ear. It nearly made me faint when she spread a drop along her tummy from the waistband of her skirt to the
edge of her top.
“There!” she announced, popping the top back on the perfume bottle and dropping it into the purse. “I’m ready!” She put the strap of the purse over her shoulder, then did a last-minute check of herself in the mirror on the wall. “Last chance to change your mind,” she said raising her eyebrows.
“Not a chance! You have fun tonight! I’ll see you… Well, I’ll see you when I see you! Send me a text or two, if you get the chance.”
“I will,” she whispered softly.
Jennifer stood with her hand on the doorknob, looking into my eyes. She licked her lips and seemed to hesitate for just an instant, then she squared her shoulders and turned the knob, stepping into the hallway without looking back. Just before the door closed behind her, I caught one last glimpse of her cute little ass, wagging seductively side to side as she strutted toward the elevators on her impossibly tall high heels.
The next couple of hours crawled by. I tried to watch television. Tried to read something on my iPad. All to no avail. I couldn’t concentrate. How the fuck could I? My wife was out dancing with two young college guys! Maybe doing more than dancing!
My mind ran wild, inventing the most outrageous scenarios, each of which starred my wife in various states of undress. I knew they wanted her, knew she was interested. Unless her conscience got the better of her, it seemed certain that my sweet little Jenny would have one hell of a story to tell me when she got back.
My emotions ran the gamut, from searing jealousy to mind-blowing arousal. Twice during those first five minutes, I picked up my phone with the intention of texting her, asking her to stop, to come back. Both times, I put the phone down. It seemed I had a constant erection, jetting up indignantly from between my legs. Fuck, I was turned on!
It was sheer torture, imagining what she was up to at any given moment. Simultaneously fearing and hoping that something naughty would happen. Oh, it was definitely torture! And I loved every second of it!
True to her word, Jenny sent me a text every once in a while. First, one to let me know that she had met up with the boys. Then, one informing me that they had reached the restaurant, followed by one when they reached the dance club. After that, they came sporadically, mostly brief little messages asking me if I was okay and telling me how much she loved me. She was just trying to keep me in the loop, make sure I didn’t feel left out.