She had a point, but I was still very excited and nervous about it. When the baby was born black, the operating room staff looked very surprised. Still, I signed the birth certificate and welcomed the baby into our family. My family didn’t really say much when they saw the child, and it was clear that they suspected that it might not be mine. Chloe’s family was very happy, though. They didn’t mention the dark skin tone or the unusual hair, they just commented on how handsome and strong our last three babies were.
After we took the baby home, we realized that we needed to come out to our friends and family. We explained everything about our lifestyle to them. There were a lot of questions and some unkind comments, and we did lose some friends over it, but it’s so much better now to be an open cuckold couple. A lot of the men that we know are happy to learn that Chloe is available to them, and some of them used her while between relationships and during divorces.
The best thing about being open is that we don’t have to worry about any further additions to our family. Right now, Chloe has three regular lovers, all black. She’s decided that she’s had enough children and she went on the pill. But recently she was going through some old baby pictures and she’s talking about having another baby or two. I told her it’s a great idea!
I’M TAKING CARE OF HER
WHILE HE’S GONE
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.
* * *
Over the last seven years, I’ve been in a relationship with a married woman. Ashley and I are both twenty-nine and we have four children. Technically the children aren’t mine biologically, they are all mulattos fathered by her husband, but I’ve been raising them as my own. We’re a very happy family.
When I met Ashley, she had been married to the love of her life, Aaron, for a little over a year. Her family had opposed the marriage, largely because Aaron is black. (The fact that he was abusive, a serial cheater, and into drugs may have played a role, too.) But they had a small wedding with about half of her family and friends showing. Soon Aaron was incarcerated over a drug-related offense and Ashley was all alone, late term with their first baby. That’s when I met her.
When I met her, I was totally blown away by her beauty and personality. I tried to be a helpful and supportive friend to her. I offered to be there with her in the delivery room if she wanted. She was reluctant to accept my help. “I really shouldn’t, Joe,” she said. “I’m a married woman. I don’t know how Aaron would feel about it.”
Funny thing, though – a couple days later she spoke on the phone with her husband and Aaron thought it would be a good idea for her to have another man around while he’s incarcerated. “He’s okay with us having a relationship as long as you understand that I’m a married woman and when he gets out, I’m his.” There were also a few other rules that Aaron set down, like that I’d need to use condoms every time with her, but they weren’t anything that would bother me. Heck, I’d be happy to put on galoshes and a raincoat if that’s what I needed to do to get laid!
We were all crying when our first son was born. We signed the papers and put my name on the birth certificate as the father, although the baby was named by Aaron and had his last name. I got to know Ashley’s family and they all loved me. “I’m so glad that Ashley is with you now, rather than that worthless degenerate Aaron,” his mother said. We didn’t tell them that Ashley and Aaron had no intention of divorcing, but it really didn’t make much difference because he was locked up anyway. As far as the world was concerned, Ashley was my woman.
I’ve always wanted to be Ashley’s husband but every time I drop a hint in that direction, she shoots me down. She’s told me many times that she loves me but she’s not in love with me – she’s in love with Aaron. I admit that I’m not the most interesting guy, that I’m not as exciting as guys like Aaron, but I feel that I’m a solid partner and a good father to our four children. And while I may not actually be married to Ashley, I’m the legal father of all four of our children, so we are tied together for life.
Another problem we have is that Ashley tells me that she’s not really that attracted to me physically. She says I’m cute but her physical attraction to Aaron is simply electric. I think that hurts our love life somewhat, as she only lets me take liberties with her about once a month. Some guys would complain about the condoms but I don’t really mind the lack of sensitivity. Honestly, I think they are a boon because they allow me to last a good ten minutes. Ashley just looks at me with a condescending smile as I push my rubber-encased weiner inside of her in the missionary position. When I reached climax, I push as deep inside as my five inch penis can go and blast the reservoir with my seed. Ashley playfully slaps my ass and says, “that really wasn’t so bad.”
On occasion, Aaron is released from prison. When he comes home, I have to sleep on the couch in the living room while he sleeps with Ashley. The sounds of her moaning and groaning through the walls are totally erotic, and I like to sneak into the bathroom and jerk off while they’re having sex. I don’t get any sex from Ashley when Aaron is in the house, but happily he’s only around for a few months, a year at most. Every time he gets released he ends up violating his parole and getting sent back. Most of the time, though, we find out that Ashley is pregnant with his baby but that’s not all bad. Ashley and I have two sons and two daughters, all mulattos, and I must say that being a father has been the most fulfilling thing in my life. The kids call me “Joe” and call Aaron “dad,” but I’m the one who has been there coaching their baseball games and taking care of things like discipline and finances for them, and they love me for it.
In a few months, Aaron will be getting released from prison for good. No parole this time, so unless he commits another crime he will be back for good. I was scared that Ashley might kick me out of her life and stop me from seeing my children, but thankfully that won’t happen. Aaron and Ashley are talking about buying another replacing one of the beds in the boys’ room with a bunk bed, and letting me sleep on the top bunk. I’m not sure how this is all going to work out, but I think we’re going to be a one big happy family!
IT STARTED WITH A DARE
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 dare you,” her friend Abby said to my wife Samantha. “I dare you to give him a blowjob.”
Abby was holding a sex toy party and everybody was drinking. The women were all doing shots and things had gotten a little out of control. There were a handful of women there, all in their mid-to-late thirties, and all of them were single except for my wife. My wife has always considered herself a top-notch cocksucker and she was telling the other girls a couple of her techniques. It was right then that Malcolm, a black college student who lived a few do
ors down, had seen all the cars and stopped by to say hello. Abby slid open the sliding glass door and asked him why he was there. In the course of the conversation, he jokingly mentioned that he wouldn’t turn down a blowjob and soon he was invited inside.
“Yeah, show us those cocksucking skills,” another woman said. Samantha had already told the women that I’m not the jealous type and that sometimes she likes to have a little adventure on the side, so they knew that her wedding ring wasn’t a problem for my wife. Samantha turned and saw the huge bulge in front of his shorts. “Wow, it looks huge,” she said. “Is that real?”
Malcolm dropped his shorts down, exposing his solid muscular legs and an impressively long and thick black cock. The other women made audible sounds of astonishment, oohing over his impressive, veiny manhood.
Samantha dropped her knees and started working on his cock, with one hand on his balls. Her mouth was corkscrewing as she took him inside of her mouth, swirling her tongue around his cockhead and making him moan. Given her expert ministrations, it wasn’t surprising that Malcolm could only last for five minutes before he reached his peak. Samantha looked upward into his eyes, her tongue flicking against the underside of his schlong as he shot wad after wad of semen onto her tongue. After giving him an ample display, wagging her cum-coated tongue for him, she swallowed his semen and then did a shot of vodka to wash it down. The women applauded her and complimented her oral skills, but then Malcolm pulled her aside.
“You suck a great dick,” Malcolm said. “But I want to fuck your pussy. How do I reach you?”
Samantha gave him her phone number. Over the next few months, Malcolm became a regular visitor to our house. When they would come home for a date, or he would come over for a booty call, he would take our bedroom to sleep with Samantha. In the past, Samantha would only go out on dates discreetly so that nobody we knew would know. Now we are open about it, and so far everything is working great. Our oldest daughter says she thinks it’s “totally cool” that her mother has a boyfriend, and she loves watching Malcolm running his hands all over Samantha’s body and kissing her passionately. We’ve assured her that her mother’s infatuation with this handsome black stud isn’t a threat to our relationship and she has nothing to worry about. She even asked what would happen if Samantha got pregnant by her black lover, and how I would feel about her having another man’s baby. (She doesn’t know that two of our three kids were fathered by other men, including her!) I assured her that I would be the father of any baby her mother carried. That seemed to satisfy her. “Good night, daddy,” she would say, kissing me as I head to the guest room with my pillow and blanket while my wife and her black lover close our bedroom door behind them. One evening she even told me that she hopes she can do the same thing some day, having both a husband and a sexy boyfriend.
I personally doubt that this situation will last. Samantha has told me that she’s totally infatuated with this guy right now, and that it’s totally physical. Still, they are spending time together as a couple on dates and talking on the phone. I can tell that she has some feelings for Malcolm, even if she knows that it won’t last.
I’m surprised it has gone on this long. From what I’ve heard from others, usually the young guys will move on pretty quickly. For now, though, Samantha is getting hot sex at our house about two or three nights a week. She still makes love to me, too, and our relationship has never been stronger. Samantha enjoys being the mentor to Malcolm, teaching him new positions and enjoying first time experiences with him. I hope that she does this in the future, having a steady boyfriend who she can enjoy a longer-term relationship with instead of just one-time encounters. It’s better that way.
I MARRIED A SLUT
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 William. I’m thirty-two and I’ve been married for eight years to my wife Beth, who is 30. We have three children and Beth is currently in her second trimester, pregnant with our fourth. We live in the suburbs and appear to be your average married couple, and for the most part we are.
One way that we’re unusual is that, although we are socially monogamous, my wife has other lovers. During most of our marriage she has had at least one steady lover, and she likes to spice it up with new lovers as well. She says that her favorite part of a new relationship is the beginning, mostly the first six months or so, and then it starts to get a little routine for her. I’m proud to say that I’m the only man who has been able to keep her interest for more than two years.
Even before we started dating, I knew that Beth wasn’t the monogamous type. People in her hometown called her “Booty Call Betsy” because of her remarkably free ways. She continued her sexual exploration at college, where she slept with over a hundred young men. I met her shortly college when she moved across the country and took a marketing job at my company. I thought she was beautiful and sexy in a kind of innocent schoolgirl way, and we enjoyed talking. She agreed to go on a date with me, and soon we became a couple. Even at that time, though, I knew that she was seeing other men, including a couple of guys from our company and even a married vice president for one of our competitors. I didn’t judge her, though; I was just happy to get the chance to date her.
Although I knew that she was promiscuous, and she knew that I was aware of her reputation, she was actually somewhat prudish with me. She made me wait for two months before she would let me have sex with her. (Years later, she confessed that she didn’t want me to think that she was easy, so she proved it by making me wait.) When we finally did, she insisted that I use a condom. I didn’t mind, though, because I was happy just to be having sex. She was a lot of fun in the sack, and I was impressed at her finely-honed sexual skills. We must have gone through hundreds of condoms before our wedding.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said on our wedding night. She was dressed in all-white nylon stockings, bra and panties. “You don’t need to use condoms anymore.”
“I thought you can’t take the pill?”
“I got fitted for a diaphragm,” she said, snuggling up against me. “I have it in right now. You won’t even notice it.” And she was right. Having sex with my new wife without having that rubber barrier between us was amazing and I would climax in just a matter of minutes. The honeymoon was sheer bliss.
After we returned home and got back to our regular lives, Beth started talking about having children. Although it was scary, we looked at our finances and realized that we were now in a position to start a family. Beth started tracking her cycle and we started to try for a baby. One time after we had sex, at the start of her cycle, I was in the bathroom washing my hands and I noticed that her diaphragm case was on the counter, not in her drawer where she normally keeps it. I opened it up and it was empty. I thought that was rather strange. I didn’t mention it to her, I just went back to bed and cuddled with her.
The next night, Beth primped herself, putting on a sexy outfit for her date with Terry, an arrogant ladies man who drives a luxury sports car. When she left she gave me a peck on the cheek, told me she’d be back late and said I shouldn’t wait up. After Terry’s car disappeared down the road, I went into our bathroom and opened her drawer. The diaphragm case was still there. I opened it up and her diaphragm was inside.
Beth went out with Terry every night for the next five nights, staying over at his house
on Friday and Saturday nights. In each case, she left her birth control at home. When she returned on Sunday night, we made love. Sure enough, when I went to the bathroom after sex, I checked the case and it was empty, no doubt inside of her protecting her womb from my sperm.
A couple of weeks later, Beth took a pregnancy test and it confirmed that she was pregnant. When our first son was born, he was a spitting image of Terry. A year later she gave birth to our daughter, but she looks more like Beth than anybody else so I can’t really say for sure. Two years after that, she gave birth to our second son who looks like a cross between Beth and Len, a cocky muscle-head who is covered in tattoos and had been her lover for a few months before that child was conceived. I know that birth control isn’t one hundred percent effective and that you can’t tell paternity just by looking at a child. Although she always used the diaphragm when we had sex, and didn’t use it with her lovers when she got pregnant, anything is possible.
I think that I might be the father of the child she’s currently carrying, though. Although most of her fuck buddies are white, she was carrying on a steamy affair with Tyrone, a sexy black man who she met through a girlfriend of hers. When we started trying for a baby this time, I was concerned that she might accidentally get pregnant by Tyrone. Beth assured me that she always uses her diaphragm with her lovers, so I had nothing to worry about, but if the birth control somehow failed we would love the baby no matter who the father might be.
During Beth’s ovulation, she was having sex with Tyrone twice a day. Although she claimed she was using her diaphragm, I saw that it was in the case each time she left. On the fourth night of her ovulation, we were pretty sure that her egg would drop. She went out dancing with Tyrone that night and came home drunk, with her lipstick smeared and a big wet spot on the crotch of her jeans. I immediately pulled her into the bedroom, pulled off her jeans and panties, and lay her down on the bed. I held her hands in mine as I began licking her pussy. There was the strong musky smell of semen and the salty taste of his jizz as I licked her clean.
MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance Page 48