“He’s moving in this weekend,” she said. “He’s coming over tonight after dinner to see our place, so you’ll get to meet him.”
When Cliff arrived, I couldn’t believe how ripped he looked. The pictures that Kaylee had shown me were from years ago, in his late teens, and the years had made quite a difference. His shoulders had broadened and his chest was larger, and he’d clearly had the opportunity to work out while incarcerated. He was wearing a t-shirt, which revealed that he had lots of tattoos on his arms. He was quite a few inches taller than me, too, and I felt somewhat intimidated by him when he shook my hand. I noticed that he was carrying a duffle bag – apparently he was staying the night.
Kaylee came around the corner and gave him a big hug. “Welcome home,” she said. “Your new home.”
Cliff immediately began French kissing my wife, running his hands all over her beautiful body. Her face went flush, and I could tell by the change in Kaylee’s breathing that there was some powerful chemistry between the two of them.
“I missed you, baby,” Cliff said.
“I missed you, too,” she replied. They kissed again, then she took his hand and offered to take him for a tour of his new house.
“I’d like to see the bedroom.”
“You will,” she said, running her fingers down his chest. “I’ll show you that last.”
Kaylee quickly gave him a tour of the house, ending with the bedroom. “Honey, I think you understand,” she said to me. “I’d like to be alone with my husband.”
“Of course,” I said, closing the bedroom door behind me. I went to my room, which was adjacent to the master bedroom.
“Oh God, Cliff,” Kaylee said, breathing heavily, “I’ve been needing this for years.”
I was hoping to hear something through the bedroom wall, but I realized that the windows were open in both bedrooms and the sound travelled clearly. I quietly pulled the shade down so that the neighbors couldn’t see, then undressed and got into bed.
I could hear their bed squeaking as they fucked, and the headboard banging against the wall. “It’s so big, Cliff. I love feeling your big, black dick inside of me.” Cliff said something low that I couldn’t make out, then she responded, “So much better, honey. Sex with you is amazing.” I listened quietly but intently, jerking my little white boyhood to the sounds of their lovemaking.
As they made love, I heard Kaylee moaning and groaning. “Oh God, I’m cumming,” she cried out and moaned loudly through a long, rolling orgasm. Kaylee usually didn’t orgasm with me, telling me that it didn’t matter and she just enjoyed the closeness, but Cliff managed to get her off three more times before he finally reached his climax. “I’m cumming again!” Kaylee said. As the two of them groaned loudly through a simultaneous orgasm, I reached my own climax, quietly moaning as my sperm squirted onto the floor.
Cliff moved in that weekend and it’s been a pretty easy transition so far. It’s been four months and Cliff hasn’t engaged in any violence or gotten himself in trouble with the law. He’s still looking for work, though, but it’s difficult to get work when you have multiple felony convictions on your record. The three of us are excited that Kaylee is now pregnant with Cliff’s baby. Of course, as the legal husband, my name will be on the birth certificate and I’ll be responsible for things like finances and discipline like any other parent. Now that Kaylee is following her faith again and isn’t using birth control, we expect that we’ll need a larger home that can accommodate our growing family.
Although I’m only masturbating now, I get so turned on by the naughty things that Kaylee says in bed, telling Cliff how much better a lover he is and how great his cock feels inside of her. She’d always been quiet in bed with me, and I had no idea that there was a powerful engine inside of her that just needed the right key to turn on. I have to admit that hearing the incredible sounds of joy that Kaylee makes while having sex with Cliff makes me realize the beauty of the Church’s teachings. I’m thinking of converting!
PRESSURED TO HAVE A BLACK BABY
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.
* * *
“It’s okay, honey,” I said to my husband Connor. My legs were splayed and I was slowly rubbing my clit. “You don’t need to use a condom.”
“Are you sure, Alyssa?” He was holding his box of Lifestyle Ultra Sensitive condoms in hand. “Aren’t you ovulating?”
“No, I can tell,” I said, nodding. “We’re fine.”
Connor moved forward on his knees, his erect four-and-a-half inch long penis in his hand, and lined up his boyhood with my vagina. As he slipped it in, he moaned. “It feels so good,” he said, lowering himself onto his elbows. As my husband thrusted his little penis in and out of me, my mind started to wander. I knew that what had worked before wouldn’t work this time. If I were pregnant, he’d know the baby wasn’t his.
Connor is a perfect husband and just an all-around great guy. I feel very lucky to have gotten such a great guy as a husband. Like many young women, I was on the pill when I met him and I gave him all the sex he wanted until I got the ring on my finger. I quickly told him that I didn’t want to use the birth control pill because I didn’t want to pump a bunch of artificial chemicals into my body. While the pill is best for single women, I’d learned from older, wiser married ladies that condoms and diaphragms are best for birth control. The reason, they explained, is that barrier methods allow you to choose the fathers of your children. I didn’t like the idea of putting a rubber disc inside of me and making sure it was placed correctly, so I put my husband in condoms. He got to pick out the brand and type that feels best to him, so he feels like he was a part of the decision. Yes, he complains sometimes that he can’t feel very much but most of the time he’s allowed to go bare – I only make him wear a rubber when I’m ovulating.
Or rather, when he believes that I’m ovulating. I keep a good track of my cycle and I like to put Connor in condoms a few days before my ovulation normally begins until a few days after it is over. This way, if I believe I might become pregnant, I can get a little “careless” and allow Connor to go bare for a couple extra days. He believes that we are being risky, but those “risky” days are actually perfectly safe. But when I get pregnant, he thinks that he’s the father.
It’s true that I haven’t always been faithful to Connor. Over the course of our marriage, I’ve had at least one steady lover for most of our years together. The kind of men that I’m attracted to are strong, powerful, virile men who love to spread their seed around. They don’t use condoms, but frankly any man who would wear a condom or not hit on a woman because of a wedding ring isn’t the kind of guy I’d be interested in. I like a man who likes what he sees and takes it, without any regard to anyone or anything.
The bed was squeaking as Connor pounded inside of me. His glasses were on the nightstand and his body was sweating as I held him against me. He feels so grateful when I allow him to have bareback sex with me. I love him, the big lug, and he’s an amazing life partner but he’s not the kind of man that I want as a sex partner or the biological father of my children.
Connor’s thin little chest was heaving as he did his thing inside of me. His eyes were bulging out, so excited that I was allowing him to penetrate me at a time that believed I was fertile. “Yes, baby,” I said, running my hands down his soft back and holding his little buttocks. “I’m fert
ile right now and hope I don’t get pregnant.”
Connor is so trusting, he never questions me. Once I was sure that I’d been impregnated by my first lover Earl, I allowed my hubby to go bare late into the next month. When I came up pregnant, he never questioned the paternity. One day when Connor and I were pushing our newborn son in the baby carriage downtown, Earl walked by. I gave him a knowing smile as we passed, and I noticed him smirking at Connor. A man like Earl loves getting married women into “dangerous situations,” and a man like Connor is there to “step up to the plate” and raise Earl’s babies.
A few months later, I met Randy, a sexy construction worker who lived a few doors down. We soon began a passionate affair, and I strongly desired to bear Randy’s child. Most of the month Connor’s little boyhood was trapped inside a rubber sheath, rubbing pointlessly inside of me, while my lover was permitted to take me bare. My womb was constantly being filled with Randy’s cum. Hubby’s little tool never stood a chance, my eggs protected from his nerd babies by the rubber. When I began to feel nausea, I hid it from Connor. The next time we were in the bedroom, I asked Connor how the condoms felt. He told me that it totally ruins the experience for him. I “felt sorry” for him and “relented,” allowing him to go without the condoms early that month. Of course, I soon took a pregnancy test and it showed that I was pregnant. Although I knew that Randy was the father, I scolded Connor for not being careful enough with his condoms.
Connor’s breathing was getting shallower, his pace faster, his face flush, and I knew that his climax was nearing. I knew I was taking a terrible risk. Sure, I’d missed my period and I’d felt some nausea, but I hadn’t taken a pregnancy test. I lifted my legs against him, moving with him as he fucked me. For the first time, I was actually hoping that he might make me pregnant! I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a good reason.
For the last six months, I’d been having a torrid sex affair with a black man named Myles. He was a divorced man in his mid-twenties, with a handsome face and a sexy body. The guy was totally cocksure of himself, but he had every right to be. He was incredibly masculine and attractive, and every woman wanted him regardless of whether they are single or married. I knew he wasn’t exclusive to me and it drove me crazy, but I also understand that a real man like Myles isn’t a one-woman kind of guy. That’s what guys like Connor are for. Connor is attentive and a good provider, he just isn’t much in the sex department. It’s the one small area that men like Myles shine.
But I soon learned that Myles had a kick for impregnating white women. A lot of bad boys enjoy this – certainly my white lovers had done the very same thing – but it’s a totally different situation when the baby is black. Connor is naïve and easily taken advantage of, but I worried that even Connor would know that something was wrong if we had a baby that was born black. But Myles didn’t want to use condoms and I didn’t want him to, either. And we both yearned to have Myles’s baby growing in my womb.
I don’t know if it’s being mean to hubby or not, but most women are incredibly turned on by the idea of giving their husbands a cuckold baby. Secretly having a white bad boy’s seed growing in my womb was an incredible experience for me – twice. Although the thought of having a black baby growing in my womb was even hotter, I was afraid of how Connor, his family or his friends might react. Still, the lure of a sexy black bull is powerful, and in the heat of the moment I allowed him to cum deep inside of me while I was fertile. After doing it once, I figured the damage was done, and so I allowed him to continue doing so. Afterward, though, I was scared to death.
And so, as Connor grunted – pushing that little weiner deep inside of me – I half-hoped that he had a chance. That my egg wasn’t already fertilized days ago by my strong, virile black lover. That my hubby’s little penis wasn’t far too little and far too late. As weak and geeky as Connor might be, at least he was white and a baby by him wouldn’t ruin our marriage. He closed his eyes, wiped his brow with his forearm, and gasped for air. Then he smiled, leaned down and kissed me. “That was great,” he said.
Connor lay down next to me, his hand intertwined with mine, and fell asleep. As he did, I hoped that I’d picked the right husband. I hoped that he was man enough to stick with his wife no matter what, and to step up to the plate. Even if a wife has a black baby, she is still his wife and he still promised to love, honor and cherish her until death do us part. Connor is a sweetheart and totally supportive. That’s why I love him and that’s why I married him. I have faith that he will rise to the occasion and become the loving, supportive father that our black baby will need.
THE PRICE OF SWINGING
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 told you it wouldn’t be easy, Jack,” my wife Grace said, standing over my shoulder as I looked at the computer screen. “It’s almost impossible to find a single woman who wants to play with a couple. They call them ‘unicorns’ because they’re so rare.”
Ever since Grace informed me that she was bisexual (or at least bi-curious), I’d wanted to try and spice up our marriage with another woman. But I wasn’t having any luck finding an attractive single woman who would want to play with a couple. Most of the women were singles looking for another single or a couple looking to play with another couple.
“Wait a sec,” Grace said, pointing at the screen. “What about that girl, Emily? She’s really cute!”
“Nope, it says she’s in a relationship,” I pointed out. “Emily and her boyfriend are looking for a couple to swing with.”
“Couldn’t we try that?” Grace asked, putting her arms around my chest and resting her head on my shoulder. “We could play another couple, couldn’t we?”
“Hey, I don’t mind you having sex with another woman but I’m not touching another man.”
“No, silly. I mean you have sex with the girl, I’ll have sex with the guy, and then we’ll work a little lesbian action into it. We can then work that into a threesome.”
It wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind, but I really liked the way she was interested in Emily. Frankly, I thought Emily was cute, too. I figured we should give it a try. I sent a message to Emily with a picture of me and my wife, explained that we were a couple and that we’d be interested in having some sexy time either with her alone or with her boyfriend. The next day, I received a message back that they’d like to meet up. We invited them over to our house that weekend.
When Emily arrived, she was even cuter than she looked in her picture. She had sandy blonde hair with cute freckles. Her breasts weren’t large but Grace actually prefers women on the smaller side. Honestly, as I gave her a hug, I felt my penis begin to rise. When she then hugged Grace, I went to full-on semi at the thought of those two together.
Then her boyfriend stepped inside, and my nascent erection quickly died and went limp. He had to be 6’4 or taller, simply towering over us. He was a dark skinned black man with a muscular physique. He introduced himself as Terran.
“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous,” Grace told Emily as she hugged Terran. From the look on her face and the way she was acting, I could tell that my wife was totally smitten by this powerful black stud.
“Thanks,” Emily said, looking over at me. “Jack is cute, too. I think we’re going to have fun.”
Over cocktails, we learned that Emily is a computer technician and that
Terran is a personal trainer. I’d been wondering how he was able to maintain such a perfectly sculpted body and that explained it. The sexual chemistry between my wife and Terran was palpable. She was pretty much ignoring Emily, totally flirting with Terran and acting like a giddy school girl.
When we got to the bedroom, I started making out Emily. Terran, for his part, had his hands all over my wife’s body just a few feet away from me. I realized that the four of us were about to have sex on our king size bed at the same time. I quickly removed Emily’s clothes, down to her bra and panties, and he her lying down on our bed. She raised her hips as I slipped off her lacy white panties, revealing a hairy blonde muff. I slowly kissed her inner thighs and made my way up to her pussy, slowly licking her. She moaned softly as I licked her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my wife on her knees, jerking Terran’s cock. The thing was huge, probably ten inches long and thick as a beer bottle. Grace was jerking it while looking up into his eyes, a huge smile on her face. “I love your cock,” she said, then lowered her head and began sucking. I turned my attention back to Emily and I continued eating her out, managing to bring her to orgasm.
Emily then had me lay down while she began to suck my cock. Next to me, my wife was laying on her back and Terran was aiming his huge black monster at her small, delicate entrance. I was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to take it all but he inched his way inside of her. The look on Grace’s face was amazing, a mixture of pleasure and astonishment. Her legs were locked around his waist as he began fucking her with long strokes, almost pulling out of her before plunging back in. “Shit, it feels good,” Grace said, her breathing hard and labored. “I’m cumming,” she said through gritted teeth. Her moans turned into groans, then outright growling as her body tensed and bucked up against her black lover’s powerful body. It was an intense orgasm, of a magnitude I’d only seen her experience one time and that was using a vibrator.
I looked down and Emily smiled at me. “Your penis is really cute. I love how it fits so easily inside of my mouth.” After a couple minutes, she got up on top of me and slipped my cock inside of her. I noticed that her pussy felt rather loose but I suspected that her well-hung boyfriend had stretched her out. It felt nice though as she rode me, and I loved seeing her breasts in my face. But it was so hard to concentrate with Grace getting royally fucked right next to me.
MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance Page 44