MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance

by POLLY ANDREA BUSCH

  I was surprised at how beautiful his penis was. It wasn’t even fully erect yet but it was very long, easily twice the length of my husband’s, and it was so thick that I wasn’t sure if I could get my hands around it. I seldom perform oral sex on Zachary but I could tell that Juwan wanted it, and I wanted to please him. He was so large that it wasn’t easy to take all of him, but I licked the underside of his cock with my tongue while sliding my head onto and away from his cock. I started to gag and realized that I just couldn’t do it this way, so I stood up and tried to push him onto the bed. Although I wasn’t strong enough to actually move him, he went with me and lay down.

  I got on top of his waist, knees to either side of him, and aimed his thick black cock at my entrance. As I lowered myself onto him, I felt his cock stretching and filling me like I’d never felt before. The feeling was indescribable. I put my hands down on either side of his chest, then I began to thrust my hips rapidly up and down. I could feel that huge head of his cock with each thrust moving inside of me. Suddenly, I felt a strange and powerful feeling in my clit and the outer part of my pussy, and instantly it spread up my lower back, then through my whole body. “Oh, fuhhhhhck,” I groaned, arching my back as my cunt clenched hard on my black lover’s mighty cock and I rode out a powerful orgasm.

  I stopped, breathing heavily. “Oh my God! That was fucking amazing!”

  Juwan was looking up, just smiling at me. “Damn, you’re a quick cummer. If I did that, a woman would beat my ass!”

  We both laughed. Although sex with my husband was almost always the same – cunnilingus followed by ten minutes of doggy style – Juwan and I made love in lots of different positions for more than an hour. Just as Dr. Bondari predicted, I had no trouble climaxing with this sexy bad boy and his big cock. I’m not sure if I was having multiple orgasms or if a single orgasm would just roll on and on, but I had anywhere from five to ten orgasms before Juwan finally could take no more and pumped his black seed into my pussy.

  I now have sex with Juwan twice a week, always scheduled. I learned that he has a full book of clients, but he managed to work me in. (Believe it or not, Dr. Bondari is also one of his clients – she uses his services once a week.) I always have multiple orgasms with Juwan. His cock just touches the right places inside of me, and I love feeling filled by his man-sized cock. But honestly it’s more than that. I really believe that it’s Juwan’s masculinity, confidence and raw sexuality that bring my body to climax.

  I still have sex with Zachary every week or two, and recently I had an orgasm when he was performing oral on me! Yes, it was a pretty mild orgasm, and it largely happened because I was fantasizing about Juwan fucking me with his huge black penis, but you wouldn’t believe how proud Zachary was he heard I told him I was cumming. Zachary and I are so thankful for men like Juwan – he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to our marriage!

  BLACK SHOTGUN WEDDING

  By Polly Andrea Busch

  Copyright 2015 by Polly Andrea Busch. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any method including (without limitation) electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This work is a work of fiction. All characters in the work are fictitious and any similarity to any other person, living or dead, real or fictional, is purely coincidental. All characters in this publication are twenty-one years of age or older. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  My name is Tyler. I’m twenty-two and the love of my life, Abigail, is twenty-one. We’d been dating for a few years and everything about our relationship was perfect. We were both very much in love with each other. The sex was great, too. For the first couple years of our relationship, we were making love about four or five times a week.

  About a year ago, though, I started noticing that we were making love less frequently. It went down to about twice a week, and then once every week to ten days. I’d heard that this would often happen after years of being married, especially after having children, but we were still young and free. Abby had started working late at work, and she said that the extra hours were tiring her and she didn’t have the energy for sex. That made sense to me, but I didn’t understand why she was now on her cell phone a lot now, messaging with her girlfriends. She would turn away from me to text and if I came near, she’d put it away. I wondered if something more was going on.

  I started to get a little suspicious. When Abby would work late, she would always come home and go straight into the shower. One time, while she was in the shower, I pulled her clothes out of the hamper. Sure enough, her panties were sticky and funky smelling, coated with semen. I could also smell cologne on her blouse. At that point, I was starting to wonder if Abby was having an affair.

  The thing is, I had already bought her an engagement ring and I had reservations at a fancy restaurant downtown. I decided to go ahead and propose to her. She accepted, and we set our wedding for June. Everything was great with us again, and we began having sex more frequently, once a week and sometimes even twice.

  Then in March, just a few months before the wedding, Abby started feeling sick. She took a pregnancy test and it was positive. I was excited but she seemed very distraught. I asked her what was wrong but she wouldn’t answer me for a couple of days. Instead she was distant, spending a lot of time on the phone talking privately with her girlfriends and texting. Finally, she sat me down.

  “Tyler, there’s something you need to know,” Abby said. “I’ve been having an affair. And I’m pretty sure that you’re not the father of my baby.”

  It felt like a punch in the gut. Abby explained that a guy named Tyus had started at her company about a year ago. He was quite a ladies’ man and had bedded a number of the young women in her office, and the rumor was that he was well hung and an amazing lover. Abby said she’d always secretly found black guys attractive and Tyus was especially handsome, sexy and sexual. She’d wondered what it was like to have sex with a black guy. Tyus kept hitting on her and she would flirt back but ultimately tell him no. Eventually he wore her down, though, and they finally had sex in his office on his desk. She felt terrible but the sex was amazing, and she didn’t want to give it up.

  “Tyus is an amazing lover,” she said, holding my hand. “His cock is so big and it really feels incredible inside of me. It was easily the best sex of my life and I enjoyed every second in bed with Tyus, but the sex was never as important to me as you.” I kissed Abby and told her that I felt the same way. I assured her that, even if the baby is black, I would raise it as my own.

  The three of us took a prenatal DNA test. I knew that I’d had sex with Abby one time during the week where she had gotten pregnant, so I had a chance. The test results came back and I was excluded, while there was a 99.99% chance that Tyus was the father. I again assured Abby that it was okay, and we would raise the child as our own.

  However, Abby told our little secret to her sister, who then informed her parents. Abby’s father called us and said that Tyus needs to do the right thing and marry Abby, that his grandson should have his father and mother living together. Abby then called Tyus and there was a flurry of calls and discussions. In the end, we agreed that Tyus would marry Abby at our wedding in place of me. In the meantime, I would sleep on the couch until I could find a new place to live, while Tyus would move into our bedroom.

  When Tyus showed up, I could see why Abby was so attracted to him. He was tall, athletic, and had a prominent bulge in his shorts. Everything about the way he moved and spoke exuded confidence and sexuality. While sleeping on the couch, I would often hear the noises of Tyus fucking Abby in the bedroom. The bed would squeak with every mighty thrust, and the headboard would bang in rhythm against the wall. “Oh God, it feels so good,” Abby would moan. “Fuck me with your big black cock!” My favo
rite part, of course, is when she’s squeal, “Oh God, Oh God…. I’m cumming,” and then groan loudly for a good minute as she climaxed. She’d always been quiet in bed with me, aside from telling me when she was cumming, but I learned just how loud and sexual Abby could be with the right man. I liked to leave some hand conditioner next to the couch and jerk off to the sounds of their lovemaking, shooting my splooge into the tissue.

  Tyus thanked me for being so understanding and he asked me to be the best man in his wedding. I was given the honor, along with Abby’s father, of walking her down the aisle and giving her away to Tyus. She looked so beautiful in her pure white wedding dress, a pregnant belly protruding, as she put her little hand into Tyus’s big black one. They were a beautiful couple and they had a great time on their honeymoon, substituting Tyus at the Bahama resort we’d picked. When they returned home, the newlyweds were still making love like crazy. I just signed a lease for a studio apartment so I’ll be moving soon, but I’m going to miss jerking off on the couch listening to my sweet Abby making love to her sexy black lover. At least I’ll have the memories!

  WILL THE BABY BE BLACK?

  By Polly Andrea Busch

  Copyright 2015 by Polly Andrea Busch. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any method including (without limitation) electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This work is a work of fiction. All characters in the work are fictitious and any similarity to any other person, living or dead, real or fictional, is purely coincidental. All characters in this publication are twenty-one years of age or older. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  My name is Derrick. I’m a happily married man and I’ve been dating a married woman, Madeline, for the last year and half, and it was her husband Dylan who got us together. We’re both very compatible intellectually and physically. I spend about two hours a day with her, and she phones me at work. We stay very connected. Dylan is my best friend and he’s watched us make love many times. Usually, though, we see each other without him being present. A few times he has come home and found us together, but he doesn’t get angry – he just smiles and seems happy about the situation.

  My wife knows about my relationship with Madeline. Women have always come easy to me and I’ve never been a one-woman man. My wife accepts my lifestyle and said that it’s okay, but she doesn’t want me to tell her anything about it. I’m fine with that. As for Madeline and Dylan, they have sex about once every week or two, while I make love to her about three or four times per week. Dylan only has sex with her in the missionary position and lasts about five minutes, while we try many different positions and we go for as long as we have time. I always satisfy her, too. Madeline and I are more passionate, physically and emotionally, than our spouses. We both love to touch and kiss a lot, and we don’t get that from our spouses.

  Madeline had her two kids by her husband, but she told me that she yearned to have a baby with me, and I told her that I wished the same. Even when they were trying for their second child, they tried hard for six months to get pregnant. She recently told Dylan that she’s going off the pill and pointed out that given how frequently she makes love with me, there’s a good chance that I’ll be the one to get her pregnant. Dylan replied that he will raise the baby as his, and he doesn’t want to know who the biological father is. Madeline and I were both surprised at that.

  Everything was great until Madeline started calling me less. Sometimes she said that she was busy and I she couldn’t see me that night. It’s strange because she’d never acted that way before. I normally just show up at their house, I don’t even knock, it’s almost like I live there (though I never stay the night). I decided that I would just go over anyway and see what was going on.

  When I came in through the door, Dylan looked surprised that I was there, like he was hiding something. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Where is Madeline?” Dylan replied that I wasn’t supposed to be there, and that she was entertaining a friend. I marched to the bedroom door. I could hear Madeline’s sexual moans inside. Angry, I opened the door.

  Madeline was on her back in the missionary position, her legs bent back to her shoulders, moaning in ecstasy while she was getting pounded by a huge, muscular black guy. I’m an athletic guy myself, but this guy was enormous. I was also surprised at the size of the guy’s cock. I’m a pretty big guy, nearly eight inches long, but this guy’s cock was incredibly thick. “Fuck me, baby,” she pleaded. “Oh God, fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Yeah, your big cock feels so good inside. Oh God, I’m cumming!” The look on her face was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, and the orgasm she was experiencing seemed so much stronger. I was totally in shock. I knew that Madeline had gone off the pill and she was supposed to be ovulating this week. We were supposed to be trying for a baby together, and now this black guy was barebacking her on the sly.

  “Oh shit, bitch,” he said. “I’m fucking close. I’m there. Take it, bitch!” He pushed in deep inside of Madeline and groaned loudly. It felt like a kick to my stomach as I saw his big black balls jerking, his thick shaft twitching as he filled her womb with his sperm.

  Madeline looked up and saw me, and she seemed pained at my expression. I slammed the door shut and walked into the kitchen. Dylan just ignored me, not looking me in the eye. About a minute later, Madeline walked out of the bedroom wearing just her blue silk robe. She put her arms around me but I pushed her away.

  “Derrick, you know we’re not exclusive,” she said softly. “We both have spouses.”

  “That’s different and you know it!”

  “You’ve been with other women the last year.” That was true and I knew it. But other than her husband, I’d thought that Madeline was only having sex with me. “We’re not exclusive.”

  “You said we were going to have a baby together. Now you’re fucking some black guy? If he gets you pregnant, everybody will know it’s not Dylan’s baby. Why would you do that?”

  Right then, the black guy came out of the bedroom. He was dressed except for his socks and shoes, which he held in his hands. He slinked away and left through the front door.

  “Honey,” she said, trying to stay calm, “I’m having sex with the three of you. I can’t make any promises if I get pregnant. It could be any of yours.”

  I felt betrayed. I wanted to stop seeing her for a while, but I didn’t want give up the chance to impregnate her, either. Over the next couple of months, I had sex with Madeline about twice a week. From what I learned from Dylan, the black guy’s name was Leander and she was having sex with him about four times a week. Supposedly she confessed to her husband that the sex with Leander is the best sex of her life. A little more than two months later, she informed us that she’s pregnant. She’s now six months pregnant and Madeline refuses to learn the gender or paternity of the baby until it’s born. Even worse, she’s decided that this will be her last baby and she’s getting her tubes tied. We’ll know the truth soon.

  HER TWO HUSBANDS

  By Polly Andrea Busch

  Copyright 2015 by Polly Andrea Busch. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any method including (without limitation) electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This work is a work of fiction. All characters in the work are fictitious and any similarity to any other person, living or dead, real or fictional, is purely coincidental. All characters in this publication are twenty-one years of age or older. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry but your annulment has been denied,” the priest told my wife Kaylee.
“In the eyes of the Church, Andrew is not your husband. You are still married to Cliff.”

  Kaylee was twenty-three when I married her last year. I knew that her family was devout Catholic and they did not support her getting married without first obtaining an annulment through the Church. Years before, she had married a guy named Cliff, a handsome black guy with a violent streak. Although Kaylee was a devout Catholic and made me wait until our wedding day for any kind of sexual contact, she simply couldn’t resist Cliff. When her parents found out about their sexual relationship, they pushed them into marriage. The way Kaylee described him, Cliff was very sexy and an incredible lover, and sex was the only good thing about their relationship. When I met her, he was serving time in the county jail. He’d been released just a couple months ago.

  “What do I do now?” Kaylee asked. “I want to be a good Catholic again and receive communion in clear conscience.”

  “You need to reconcile with your real husband, Cliff,” the priest said. “And do not have any further physical relations with Andrew.” He turned to me. “Legally you may be married, but it is adultery for you to have sex with Cliff’s wife.”

  The next day when I came home from work, I found that all my stuff was missing from our bedroom. When I asked Kaylee about it, she told me that she’d moved my stuff into the guest room.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it’s the right thing to do. Like the priest said, we’re just going to live as friends now, as brother and sister. I should never have gotten married outside of the Church. I should have obtained an annulment before I married you. Now it’s too late. We’ll just have to adjust to it.”

  “What about Cliff?”