MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance

by POLLY ANDREA BUSCH

  “Wow,” I said. I felt bad for her, but at the same time I felt my little white penis starting to stir. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t say anything about it. I told him that it was a very tempting offer, but I’m a married woman and I’d need to discuss it with my husband. When we left, he gave me another hug and a kiss on the lips, and he asked me to think about it and give him a call. He mentioned that his last assistant was also married and the job was a great springboard for her career. She now has a job as a television reporter in San Diego.”

  “It’s a great opportunity,” I said. “I’ll support you in whatever decision you make.”

  “But if I take the job with him, he expects sex.”

  “I understand that. You’ll do everything for him that a wife would do for him.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  I assured her that I was, as long as she told me all of the details of her adventures and didn’t neglect me in the bedroom. I told her that it might be fun for both of us. As we talked it over, she seemed to get happier and more confident, and finally was downright bubbly. She told me that she was going to accept the job. The next morning she called him and she started the next week. He sent over a package with an outfit for her to wear. It looked just like a Lakers cheerleader outfit, except for shorts instead of a skirt. He said that was for wearing at games but her first day would be at his house, and she would just need to wear something attractive. She chose a sexy little black dress with a matching lacy red bra and panties. I kissed her goodbye that morning and wished her good luck. She said she expected to be home around 6.

  That night, I was wondering what was going on. I got a text from her that she would be working late into the night with DeMarcus and I shouldn’t wait up for her. I tried to call her but the phone just went to voicemail. I went to bed wondering what the heck was going on. About one in the morning, I heard movement in the bedroom. I reached over and turned on the light. It was Brianna. Her dress and hair was all disheveled, her makeup smeared, and she seemed a little tipsy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said. “I just need to take off my makeup and get ready for bed.”

  “Did you have fun on your first day?”

  “Lots of fun,” she said with a wicked smile. “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  I was laying there with a rock-hard erection, just thinking about the image of DeMarcus Chandler kissing my wife, his big black hands roaming all over her little white body. It seemed like forever, but she came out of the bathroom wearing her nightgown and slipped under the covers.

  “You had sex with DeMarcus?”

  She nodded, putting her arms around me. “It was amazing. I couldn’t believe how big his cock is. I’ve been with some big guys in the past but nothing like him. I almost couldn’t take it, it was so much.”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  “Oh, I loved it. It was incredible.” She ran a hand over my body. “Yours is good too, though. I think five inches is really nice.” She slipped a hand down to my crotch and started to slowly pump my manhood. I leaned forward and we began kissing. I tried to move on top of her, but she pushed me back.

  “Not tonight. I’m not sleeping with two men on the same day. That’s disgusting. Besides, I need to shower and douche. He came inside of me.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe it. We always used condoms for birth control. I slipped a hand down to her pussy and slipped some fingers in. Sure enough, she was totally wet and greasy.

  “He’s too big for condoms and he hates them. I was going to ask him to pull out but in the heat of the moment, I guess we just got carried away.” She then got up on her knees and began pumping my cock in earnest. I lay back down and listened while she told me about DeMarcus’s incredible sexual prowess, how great a kisser he is and how intense her orgasms were. I was so turned on that I started pumping my hips up and down in her hands, faster and faster. I then pushed up hard and groaned, spilling my seed into Brianna’s fingers. She kept going, running her hands over my raw, sensitive cockhead, and used her fingers to remove every drop of semen from me. Then she went to the bathroom, washed her hands clean, and returned to bed and snuggled with me.

  Over the last few months, I’ve had the chance to see Brianna on television many times. She was sitting in the front rows next to celebrities and millionaires. It was great seeing her so happy and confident. She was having sex with DeMarcus nearly every day, and she was giving me a hand job three or four times a week while giving me all the dirty details. She loves everything about DeMarcus and says he’s the most incredible lover she could ever imagine, bringing her to orgasm over and over. When she’s on the road with him, she calls me at night and tells me about her latest adventures with him, and I masturbate furiously to her sexy stories. I couldn’t be any happier!

  HER BLACK STUD WON’T GIVE UP

  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 Logan. I’m twenty-five years old accountant. My girlfriend Alexis is a beautiful twenty-three-year-old brunette with a great figure and a sweet personality. We’ve been dating a little over six months now and we’re both very happy together. There’s one little annoyance, though, that’s gotten in the way of our relationship.

  When I met Alexis, we started out as friends. She was working as a barista at a local coffee shop. I stopped in, started talking with her while I waited for my food, and we hit it off. I asked her if she had a boyfriend and she said that she’d just gotten out of a relationship. Her ex-boyfriend Kelly, she informed me, was a promising football player until he suffered career-ending injuries in a car accident. After his injury he was never the same, and his dreams of a professional career were crushed. He dropped out of college and started working in construction. She said he had serious anger issues, and after his injuries things only got worse. She had to break up with him.

  During the first few months of dating Alexis, she wanted to take things slow. She would allow me to hold her hand and kiss her, and I even got to the point of feeling her up, but she wasn’t interested in doing more than that. “I just don’t feel comfortable enough yet,” she said. I assured her that I understood, and things were otherwise great in our relationship.

  Then, one day, Alexis left her phone out and I saw a text. It was from Kelly and it said: “Last night damn! I luv fuckn u!” I was shocked when I saw it. I confronted Alexis. She didn’t want to admit it but I had her red handed. She finally confessed. Although she’d broken up with Kelly, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was still insisting on seeing her, and given his violent past and temper she felt she had no choice. She was trying to wean him off, but he still stopped by three or four times a week at night for sex, saying that he had needs. Alexis asked him to find a new girlfriend. Kelly replied that she’s still his woman and he doesn’t want her cheating on him by sleeping with me or anybody else. And that, she admitted, was the primary reason that we hadn’t had sex yet. We had a long discussion about it and decided that, one way or the other, Kelly would need to find a new girlfriend by the end of the year.

  Since that time, things have been a lot better between us. Now that our relationship is out in the open, Alexis and Kelly are able to go out in public as friendly exes. He still comes over to her apartment for sex at night, but now she tells me all of the details as I eat her pussy. “His
cock is so big, it felt so good,” she might say, laying back on the bed, her hands running through my hair as I lick her black lover’s semen out of her cunt. “He’s so strong, so muscular, it just makes me wet thinking about him! I cum so fucking hard!” And after I bring her to orgasm with my tongue, she now rolls a Trojan over my little white penis, lubes up her hands with Astroglide, and gives me an amazing handjob. Just seeing her naked body as she smiles, kneeling next to me on the bed, it gets me so hard that I fire like a rocket into the reservoir. “Wow,” she says with surprise, “Good job, honey! You made a big boy load!”

  It’s so great to finally have some sexual activity with Alexis. She recently told me that Kelly isn’t have any luck getting a new girlfriend, and it may take him a few more months to finally break off their sexual relationship. But I know the end is near, and soon I’ll be going all the way with lovely girlfriend. I can’t wait!

  KIDNAPPED BY SOMALI PIRATES

  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.

  * * *

  “So rah neekum!” the African man yelled, banging on our windshield with the butt of his gun. We were on the road in Somali when three men jumped in front of our car. Now they were yelling in a foreign language, probably Somali. They were all armed with scary-looking black guns, and I could see their old jeep parked about ten yards off the road.

  I’d never been so frightened in my life. Doug, my sixtyish co-worker at the charity, was driving the car. He looked paralyzed with fear. We’d heard about the pirates in Solamia but we’d been lucky enough to never encounter them.

  The man who banged his gun into the windshield opened the driver’s side back door and hopped inside. “Go!” he ordered, aiming his gun at Doug’s head. “Go, go, go!” He started driving down the road, with no idea where we were going. I turned around and saw the other men following behind us in their jeep.

  I remembered my husband Jayden back in the States. “I’m worried, Sydney. Africa is a dangerous place, especially Somalia. Aren’t there safer places that need help?” I explained to him that Africa was a focus of our charity because they are in greatest need of assistance, and I promised him that I would be careful. Now, speeding down the road through the African desert, I wasn’t sure that I would be alive much longer.

  The man behind us directed Doug by pointing and yelling. He led us off the main road down some all-dirt roads to their compound. We pulled up in front of three dirty little wooden shacks that looked like they might fall apart at any moment, and the jeep pulled up a few moments later. The black man gestured for us to get out of the car. The men were talking angrily at Doug in Somali. He raised his hands up and said he meant no harm, he was just in Somalia to help villages with their water. The shorter man from the jeep got behind Doug and held his hands behind him. Then the man who sat behind us in our car slowly walked up to him, put his face into Doug’s and said something I didn’t understand. Then he took the butt of his gun and hit Doug in the head, knocking him out. His body crumpled to the ground.

  The taller man from the jeep came over to me. “I am Khaalid. This is Qorane,” he said, referring to the man who sat behind me in the car. He said that the shorter man from the jeep is Xidig. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Sydney. I work for a charity. I’m just here trying to help people get clean water in their villages.”

  “You are a hostage,” he said. “The ransom will be $50 million US dollars. If we aren’t paid, you will be killed.”

  Qorane and Xidig dragged Doug’s body into the middle shack and they locked the door. Then Qorane led me into the shack on the right. It was a dirty, dusty shed. I sat on the floor wondering what to do. My cell phone was in my purse in the car but even if we had reception the phone was dead. I could hear the men talking outside, then the voices faded away a bit. Soon the light coming through the cracks between the wooden planks turned to darkness.

  At some point, I heard footsteps approaching, then the door unlocked. It was Qorane standing there holding a plate with stale bread, a metal cup of water, and a candle-lit lantern. He placed all of it on the floor. Then he removed his handgun from his belt and slowly set it down on the floor, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. He slowly walked up to me. I noticed that he’d changed his clothes and he was wearing camouflage pants and a t-shirt. He looked me in the eyes, then put his arms around me and began kissing me. Although Qorane is an attractive man, I was totally repulsed by his behavior. Besides, I’m a married woman. But I knew that I was a captive and I had no real choice. I responded to his touch and placed my arms behind him, caressing his muscular body. I was worried that I wouldn’t be wet for him, but I felt my vagina beginning to wet. And though I know it’s wrong, as I inhaled his scent, I became incredibly aroused by the thought of having sex with this violent black thug.

  I unbuttoned my shirt and removed my bra, so that I was now wearing nothing but my skirt and panties. I could see his manhood pressing against his pants and it looked huge. I undid Qorane’s belt, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. He wasn’t wearing any underpants, and out sprung a huge black cock. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. At college I’d been told that the rumors of black men having large penises was a lie spread to hold black men down by hyper-sexualizing them, in the same way that the rumors of Asian men having smaller penises are a lie to emasculate them. But Qorane’s cock was magnificent, I’d estimate it was ten inches long and so very thick, much larger than a kielbasa.

  I was totally satisfied by my husband’s five inch penis but this cock was a thing of beauty. I dropped to my knees and took his huge black cock inside of my mouth. I was never very experienced at fellatio, as my husband usually preferred intercourse, but I tried my best to give my black captor a good blowjob. I swirled my tongue around the thick head and shaft and pumped the base of his cock with my hands. I also gently swept my fingers over his balls after every few pumps. Qorane was speaking softly in Somali. I couldn’t understand him but I think he was enjoying it.

  Qorane then took on an aggressive tone. He pulled me up to my feet, then pulled down my skirt and panties. Then he pushed me to the floor and got on top of me. The floor was hard and dirty, and it was uncomfortable but I knew that I couldn’t complain. Although Jayden and I use condoms for birth control, I knew that it wasn’t an option for me. I couldn’t see much with the candle light, but I felt his huge cockhead touch my vagina and then begin to press inside. It normally takes my husband a handful of thrusts to get his little penis inside of me, but I was so wet for Qorane that he just pushed hard inside of me with two thrusts. I gasped at the sudden insertion but it felt great. I felt so full, and his cock was going so much deeper than Jayden could ever do. I was being stretched out but it felt amazing, and this African thug was pounding hard and long, almost pulling out entirely with each thrust before pushing back in. He wasn’t kissing me or touching my clit, just holding himself up on his hands above me and thrusting violently, yet the feeling was so amazing. His cock was so large that, with no effort on his part, my clit was being stimulated from intercourse alone. Suddenly I felt an amazing pleasure starting with my groin, then it spread throughout my body to every fingertip, and I groaned loudly and uncontrollably in the Somalian darkness, experiencing what was easily the most powerful orgasm of my life. I was almost crying when it didn’t end, just rolling on in a wave, either one continuous or
gasm or a series of them giving me incredible pleasure. Then I heard Qorane grunting deeply and push all the way inside of me. I could feel the tip of his cock pressing against my cervix, his cock growing even larger and pulsing, as he filled my womb with his sperm. I ran my hands up and down his back, enjoying his broad, muscular shoulders as the last of his seed spilled out to totally fill my cavity.

  From that night forward, Qorane was using me for sex almost every night. A couple of weeks later, I started feeling nauseated and I was frightened that I might be pregnant. Over the new few months, I began to show and it was obvious that Qorane’s baby was growing inside of me. Although I support abortion rights, it’s not a choice that I would ever consider for myself, and I worried that the meager meals they were feeding me wasn’t sufficient for our baby. One day, though, just over three months of being captives, Doug and I were rescued by U.S. special forces. All three of our captors were killed, and Doug and I were returned home.

  Jayden and I were both crying when we finally saw each other at the airport. He was totally understanding and supported my decision to keep the baby. Our son, Qorane Junior, is a beautiful, handsome baby boy and Jayden is an amazing father. He says he couldn’t love little Qorane any more even if he was his own biological child. We’d always planned on having only one child but when I brought up a vasectomy to Jayden, he seems a little resistant. But we both understand that DNA doesn’t matter, children are expensive, and one child is enough for us. We’re a perfect family.

  MY BOYFRIEND’S BACK

  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.