Christine is Cherished

by Tempesto

  “So, Ben, how are you liking being cuckolded?” Brenda brazenly asked, breaking the silence.

  “Well, I think it’s hot!” I replied. “I miss sex very much, though. But the nature of the sexual twist has been very erotic. Christine has been totally into Sir James, and I’m not sure where I stand with her right now.”

  “She’s enjoying him, sure,” Brenda said. “You have to understand the way that she feels. After all you were caught pants down, so to speak. Then, you agreed to let these men at her to get yourself off the hook. You can be sure that she is not too happy with you, and why would she be?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not unlike the situation Paul got himself into, is it?” I asked.

  “How so? How did he say we met the Masters?”

  I retold Paul’s tale of his bookie selling his debt as he had relayed it.

  Brenda burst out in laughter when I finished. “Not even close! Actually, he wanted me to have sex with another man in front of him. I wasn’t interested at all. Time went by and he kept asking and asking. Then, one Saturday when I wanted to spend the day together he decided to go golfing with his friends for the day, instead! So, I decided to get back at him and posted some pictures of myself on the internet. Well, there were LOTS of emails flowing into my Yahoo account in response, as you can imagine. That’s when I found Sir Samuel, and his friends. When he got home that night I gave him the cold shoulder, and cut him off for sex. I kept him with blue balls all week as I got to know Sir Samuel, and had even met him. The next Saturday night came around and I told Paul that I had decided to give him his wish, but on my terms. I tied him down before they arrived. He had imagined one thing. I would have one night, one time, with a white man. Imagine his surprise at three black men showing up! He hadn’t really been as attentive as I would have liked for some time, and getting his wish was far more than he had imagined! I decided that since he wanted me to act like a little whore, I’d oblige him! He was clearly shaken, and still is!”

  “How is your relationship holding up?” I asked.

  “He is obeying, but distant. I know it turns him on, and it has made him yearn for me back. But, I’m not sure that he can handle it much longer. Samuel is upping the stakes,” Brenda said. “Paul is going to have to decide just how much he loves me ASAP.”

  I was afraid to ask what the last thing she said meant, and decided to shift the conversation away from the seriousness of her and Paul’s marriage. “Oh. So, what do you like best about cuckolding Paul?”

  “There are several things I like very much,” Brenda started. “I like having seized the sexual power over my husband in the relationship. I have turned the classic roles upside down. Now I am the head, and he follows! Most women, me included, don’t mind the classic role of a wife. Pleasing a strong husband can be a turn on. But, it can get old. Now, after years of the marriage, it’s reversed. And I have to admit it’s kind of nice to be in control! For that matter I seem to have extended my ‘power’, if you will, and have you at my call, too!”

  “Yeah,” I said dreamy, glancing over at her. I could see the outline of her nipple hoops through her sundress, a detail I also noticed several times on Christine. The hoops were large, certainly larger than anything I thought was made for nipples. The problem that the size of the hoops lent itself to was that they were so large that they could often be noticeable through all but the loosest fit shirts. The first time Christine wore a snug blouse to her office I was mortified!

  “Then, you have to take into account the sex. There is something that gets into black men are with white women that amps up their sex drive through the roof. And it is contagious! Their energy gets to us and the whole thing becomes just electric between them wanting us, us being maybe curious about them, and the whole taboo thing. One of the first things I noticed about Samuel is how MUCH more he cums than Paul! I mean, when a black man lets go in a white woman she KNOWS he came, okay! With Paul I knew when he came because of how he was reacting, not from the feeling of his sperm inside me. Samuel showed me what that sensation could be. His climax is like a hot lava river splashing inside me - like no sensation I ever knew. James is a good heavy cummer too, as you know!” Brenda giggled. “How many wives can claim to have been sexually pleased as I have been? Not many! And all this is with essentially with no down side. Paul can’t say anything about it. After all, he begged me to have sex with another man!”

  When we got to the coast I turned south on the 101 to enjoy the scenery with Brenda.

  “So, you seem to like seeing me nude ... how much did you like seeing me fucking Samuel that first day?” Brenda questioned. I loved that Brenda was so forward and coarse with the topic of sex. Ever since the day I voyeuristically took in the spectacle of her and Samuel, I had come to be attracted to the raw sexual nature of her, and it turned me on.

  “I like it very much, as I’m sure you know!” I replied.

  “Details, details!! I want to know EXACTLY what turned you on.”

  “Okay, you and Christine have very different builds, as you know. She has a very athletic build as opposed to your curvy one. You have some things, naturally, that she doesn’t, like those incredible breasts of yours. Well, I had this surreal kink about white women having sex with black men. But I had never actually seen it before. I watched as your body reacted to him. I yearned as I saw him holding your hips and your bright pink lips were stretched around his dark cock. And I was unable to just turn away. I saw him holding you – no taking you - right before me, with such force that your breasts pounded back and fourth and skin shook! Seeing your pale skin held by his dark hands and hearing your voices through the open window was the fulfillment of years of fantasy.” I realized that reliving the experience in Brenda’s presence had caused my cock to drip copious amounts of semen, so much that there was a clear wet spot on my shorts and Brenda was glancing there!

  “Hmmmm,” she said. I had been watching the road and now noticed that her hand had wandered and was resting on her pussy. I could clearly see the hoops through her shirt and her hard nipples strained the fabric outward. “Pull over and get a room, Ben!”

  I was shocked, but absolutely thrilled! I quickly found an oceanfront motel and got a room. Once inside, I started to undress her.

  “No,” she commanded. “I just want you to lick my pussy. Remember your place! We are all under the black Masters. I am a white woman, therefore above you. You are my Boy Toy, and will do as I wish! Now, get on your knees.”

  I did as she directed. Brenda rested her tummy on the bed and spread her legs on the floor. Her hand pulled her sundress up to her waist, revealing her naked femininity. I was astonished at the gap between her sex lips! There was no way for me to know what Brenda’s sex had been like before Samuel. But the reason for her camel toe was now exposed to me ... Brenda’s pussy was open and loose, clearly worked over repeatedly by Samuel’s punishing, thick black manhood.

  “Now ... lick, lick, lick Ben! This is your chance to show me how turned on you are!”

  I did as directed, eagerly lapping the nectar of Brenda’s essence. I kissed it with an open mouth, pleasuring her opening. Her pussy lips were large and inflated, more so than I could take in my mouth all at once. They were drenched too, transferring the sticky hot wetness of her juices all around my lips.

  Brenda and I spent several hours in the hotel room, with me providing oral satisfaction to her. I savored the luscious erotic juices that she shared with me, tracing every curve of her folds. As she enjoyed my attentions she spoke in a sexually haughty, dreamy, and erotic, throaty tone, “That’s it, boy toy! Lick and suck, lick and suck! Hell yeah! Taste that black cum from my white pussy!”

  We moved to the floor, with her kneeling above my face facing my feet, as if she was might bend and 69 with me.

  “That’s it, be a good little boy toy and taste Samuel and ME! Don’t think you’ve moved up a notch, slave (then she rode my mouth forcefully with her pussy)! I’m still Sir Samuel’s white sex slut, and you’r
e still there beneath me - don’t you forget it!”

  My cock was rock hard and dripping, begging for her attention. It tensed and throbbed, a clear outline in my shorts. My balls were heavy and full, wanting to surrender to her.

  “My, my that cock looks like it’s begging!” she laughed teasingly. “Well, too bad! Just like your wife I belong to a black man, and both you and my husband are now pushed down and under us blacked wives!”

  I started sucking on the sensual valley of Brenda’s pussy, concentrating on it, venerating it with my mouth. Her pubic hair tickled my chin and her juices soaked her whole pubic area. Then she started to tease my cock by gently caressing it through my shorts. “Oh, puppy! I bet you want this little fuck doggie walked!”

  Then her hand gripped my cock through my loose cargo shorts and started to slowly stroke it back and forth. I could not resist her insistent and professional hand job long. Soon I cried out, “Oh yes – yes – yes! I am cumming for you Brenda!”

  My penis was swimming in a pool of sperm I hoped would remain in my boxers. I felt my head covered in the hot stickiness, and felt that unique emptiness of having blown my wad.

  “Mmmmmmm,” she commented. “Just like master said.”

  My orgasm subsided and as it did my attention to Brenda’s mound became less urgent and more sensual in nature.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Don’t fucking stop! Keep drinking that black master’s cum from my pussy. Mmmmmmmm!”

  She started to gyrate her opening over my head, and some of Sir Samuel’s cum flowed freely from her broad opening to my hungry mouth. She cried out in orgasm, apparently feeling the transfer and reveling in being the conduit between black and white.

  When she recovered from the heights of pleasure, she rose from her knees and said, “Why don’t you go and clean yourself in the bathroom.”

  I stripped of my bottoms, and thankfully found that my essence was kept in my boxers. I scrubbed them in the sink and cleaned myself also. Then I used towels and the hair dryer to dry the boxers as best I was able. When I exited the bathroom, I saw Brenda checking text messages on her phone. I took the liberty not to wear my boxers and shorts in Brenda’s presence since they were still a bit damp.

  Brenda lay on the bed and motioned for me to come to her. She held me, taking the outside position that men customarily assume as she whispered in my ear, “Both the black masters want us white wives to still have white husband to support us, and give us oral sex. But things are changing, Ben. Things are going to deeper levels, and both you and Paul are going to have to decide how much you really love your wives. Since Samuel has decided to get me pregnant Paul has been having a hard time with his position in my life. He wanted to be the man to get me pregnant. But, clearly it can’t be my husband at this time, and I want a baby.”

  My mind was racing with the implications of Brenda’s revelations. I was conflicted and confounded, as well as highly aroused. Did Sir James have plans to attempt to get my wife pregnant also? Now I feared perhaps I had lost all control of my wife, and could only imagine what was happening in my own house. But there was no way that Christine would allow James the chance to get her pregnant, and as long as her IUD was still in place we were safe from broken condoms.

  I finally had a close, unobstructed view of Brenda. Her pubic area was trimmed as opposed to shaved. Even though it was well kempt she still had a thick auburn bush, matching her hair. And her lips were pulled outward from all the fucking that Samuel had been providing her with, supple and an open invitation for suckling.

  “It’s OK to feel the flow of jealousy, Ben. Just concentrate on how much it turned you on to see Christine’s pussy satiated by her new black lover. Remember how long you had to wait to feel the twisting erotic knife in your heart. You know it is worth the pain to seeing that hard black cock take your wife. Think about her lips all stretched out and bright pink, yielding her sacred white womb to him. You knew you wanted a black man to have her as soon as you saw Samuel and I. James would have your wife, because you wanted to surrender her to him and you wanted that she would desire to totally give herself to him. All of that is happening is an extension of what you wanted and started. You can’t expect to control their relationship any more than Paul can expect to control Samuel’s and mine.

  Brenda turned on her back and spread her legs. The fragrant scent of her sex filled my lungs, and my mouth was drawn by her temptation. As I suckled on her secret, knowing that it had yielded its firmness and been permanently transformed by her black lover. There was no question in my mind that her womanhood had been expanded beyond the point of no return – that even if she became chaste from that moment the elasticity that had been enacted on her flesh was such that restoration from the experience of black cock was impossible. Samuel had conquered the married white pussy before me, ruining it for the manhood of all but the most naturally gifted of men. Brenda’s black lover affirmed his dominance of her most private place, having affixed the camel toe seal upon it.

  Brenda’s fingers combed through my hair, holding my face to her sultry pussy and forcefully taking her satisfaction in the oral delight I saw giving. It was not long before the grip of her fingers became so tight that she was pulling my hair – crying out in ecstasy. As soon as Brenda had reached the heights of her pleasure, she pushed my face from the reward of her erotic springs. Her intoxicating liquor covered my face, as though I was a virgin child of the foxhunt and had been ceremoniously bloodied with her nectar.

  She was still under the spell of passion when, a few minutes later, she went to the floor and got on all fours. Brenda spread her thighs very wide, exposing her glistening pussy from behind. Her hand reached back to her gaping feminine wiles, massaging her button. The erotically charged vision of Brenda’s hot red lips contrasted with the milk white of her skin was a cruelly unfair temptation.

  I followed her lead from the bed to the floor, my manhood shivering with want. Taking a chance my hands touched the outside round of her ample hips. The Brenda did not object, leading me to take the liberty of rubbing her around the cheeks of her ass. Her skin was supple, a bit loose and yielding to the touch – think soccer mom type of pleasing, slight body plumpness. The electricity of touching her pale skin caused my cock to shudder with need. I could no longer resist the temptation before me and without asking permission I took my place behind her alter of lust, slipping my hard cock past her pliant folds.

  Master had stretched Brenda with his large black cock, and I reveled in the finally sampling his intimate work! I had never ceased to be captivated by the initial vision I had of this sexy white wife being blacked. I had witnessed his hard sex cylinder turning out her bright pink lips, and craved to feel his victory between her thighs. Brenda’s femininity enveloped me, and felt bottomless as I fell within. My nobility escaped in her effortlessly and I slid straight to pubic bone. I felt the stab of embarrassment at the obviousness that she was accustomed to a much larger cock. There is a unique, degrading humiliation that a man feels when his manhood is met without any resistance. Lack of any tense firmness is irrefutable evidence that his manhood, his source of his male pride, is insufficient to satisfy the woman he is within. My manhood was plumbing her to the hilt when the intensity of her inner gender baptized me in the scorching heat of her orgasm.

  The flood of sex - juice from her pleasure spring excited my soul. The pace of my movements involuntarily quickened as animal lust overtook any rational reservations I may have had to planting my seed. The natural breeding instinct overpowered the societal inhibitions of releasing within another man’s wife. I was cognizant of the fact that Sir Samuel was trying to get Brenda pregnant, revealing that she was not using birth control. The searing temptation to procreate was beyond my feeble, withering, logic - driven humanity to restrain.

  I was a SLAVE to the enchanting reproductive urge.

  Brenda’s head turned and faced me, eyes binding with mine. Then she said, “That’s it Ben! Fuck me! Take that pussy and make it yours!
Win that white pussy back from that black man! FUCK – ME Ben, fuck me!”

  Brenda’s thick lips curled into a perceptive smile as she broke our shared gaze and she threw her head back, momentarily creating a mohawk of falling auburn strands. Her head turned side to side as our flesh twisted and reflexively reacted as we combined. Her eyelids were shut tight as she experienced the gratification of our copulation.

  The movement of my hips became suddenly awkward and stunted as I felt the shake of my pending climax. Brenda turned and rebound our eyes. Then in a husky, sexy voice she said, “That’s it Ben! You’re right on the fucking edge! You can do it baby! Win back that white pussy! This is your big chance! There’s no protection! TRAP ME – fucking TRAP my married ass! Catch me right here and now! Give me your essence! Don’t worry, I can handle your cum baby! I know how to take care of your cum! Give me your white lightning juice, baby!”

  In her playful verbal jousting, Brenda had asserted her possession of the keys to unlocking the most primal parts of my erotic humanity. I could not resist her exquisite seduction and my whole body started to shake. I came forcefully, exploding my human potential within her waiting bed of fertility. As I knelt with my balls draining every ounce of my essence into her like a train coming to a station, Brenda assuming the piston motion of our bodies with her thick, curvy hips. She gently and insistently slid her female wares over my manhood, slowly draining very life – potent drop of my sticky surrender.

  After the afterglow of the afternoon festivities and a shower we drove back towards the ever more intriguing cul-de-sac we shared. She watched as the beautiful California landscape unfurled. She turned to look at me and tipped her sunglasses down.

  “By the way, you don’t need to worry about getting me preggers from this afternoon,” she said, resuming the tone I she had dealt to me before being so open this morning. “Samuel already knocked me up. I’m 6 weeks pregnant. Just thought you should know.”