MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance

by POLLY ANDREA BUSCH

  I was so horny for Rasheed, hornier than I’d ever been for Kyle. As he kissed my neck, my breathing quickened as I moaned in delight. He was everything that I wanted in a man, putting Kyle to shame by comparison. But he wasn’t my real husband. I gently resisted.

  “It’s okay, Jazz,” he said. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Listen to your body. You know it’s right.”

  I was squirming as he ran a hand up my leg. I reached over and began unzipping his black pants. I reached inside and when I felt him, I was shocked. I was expecting a penis like Kyle’s but it was so much more than that. It was a hard, thick, dark chocolate javelin. I stroked him with my hand and loved the contrast of his velvety smooth skin over the powerful hardness.

  When the limo pulled up at the bed and breakfast, the partition slid down. “We’re here,” the driver said.

  Rasheed zipped his pants back up. He stepped out of the car, pulled some cash out of his wallet and handed the wad to the driver. “Don’t go anywhere. You stay right here, got it?” His eyes glanced in my direction. “I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

  Rasheed reached his hand into the car for me. I slide out of the limo. Then he got our luggage from the back and pulled them behind him inside the place. Sally, the frumpy middle-aged owner, smiled broadly as she handed me the room key. “Have fun, you two,” she said with a wink.

  When I opened the door, Rasheed said, “Don’t move.” He brought the luggage inside, then came back out and picked me up, carrying me across the threshold and laying me down on the bed. He locked the door then slowly took off his tie and shirt. In a moment, he was down to nothing but a pair of silk black boxers.

  “Now to take my prize,” he said, walking up to the bed. He got behind me and kissed the back of my neck, then unzipped the dress. He had me stand up and he removed it, revealing my lingerie: a white bra and panties, and white stockings with a garter belt.

  He looked me up and down lustily, whistled, and then began to fondle my breasts through the bra while kissing me. I felt weak in the knees, my pussy sopping wet and swollen, my clit tingling with excitement. He unhooked my bra and it dropped to the floor.

  I caressed his amazing, muscular body. He clearly spent a lot of time in the gym. Why couldn’t Kyle look like that? He was so much taller than Kyle, though, and his cock… I rubbed his cock and balls with my hand as I leaned up, kissing Rasheed. He made me feel like a woman and I desperately needed to feel that big black beast inside of me.

  He guided me to lay down on the red sheets that covered the heart-shaped bed. I put my feet down and lifted my hips, helping him to pull off my white panties. He moved up on top of me. I felt his thick cock pressing against my leg. “Fuck me,” I begged him. He kissed my face and my neck as he humped his groin against my inner thighs, then he moved down and suckled my nipples. I felt anxious and excited, every inch of my skin desperate for him, as my nipples hardened.

  Rasheed kissed his way down my stomach and then reached the pleasure pit between my legs. He licked my inner thighs and lips, everything but my clit, and I squirmed in agonized pleasure, my hands gripping the sheets to either side of me. At long last, his tongue reached my clit and began flicking over it.

  “Oh God,” I called out, my stomach contracting, my hips heaving as waves of pleasurable release overwhelmed my groin and shot through my body.

  My black lover then stood up, his thick, black weapon standing firm and proud, ten thick inches in his right hand. Rasheed smirked as he kneeled onto the bed, lined up his cock at my slippery, soaked womanhood, and pushed the head inside of me.

  “Oh my!” I felt my eyes pop open wide at the sensation, staring at the ceiling. With my peripheral vision I saw him move on top of me, his head to my side. He kissed me neck as he thrusted in a little more, then more still. My vagina was tight, fully filled, and my entrance tight as a drum around his cock, pulling my clit against him. With each thrust, my clit was moving, sending pleasure up and down my legs. It only took a few minutes before I was again coming. I realized that I’d never come more than once with Kyle, and here I’d already had the two strongest orgasms of my life.

  Kyle would only have sex in the missionary and woman-on-top positions. He said he liked to look at me as we made love. But Rasheed showed his experience by moving me into position after position. I loved when he fucked me on my side, lying behind me and spooning me, one hand holding mine and his other hand reaching around and rubbing my clit. I was groaning, grunting like a whore as he put me through orgasm after orgasm.

  “Yeah, baby,” he said. “I’m coming!” I felt his cock push balls deep inside of me, and inside I could feel his cockhead pressing against my cervix. I moaned as I felt his cock pulsing, and I could even feel the wetness as he filled me womb with his seed. I turned my head toward him and we kissed wildly as we rode out our mutual orgasm. His chest was sweaty, heaving, as his testicles emptied themselves, sending hundreds of millions of his sperm to find my waiting egg.

  Just then my cell phone buzzed. “Just a second,” I said. I rolled over and pulled my phone from the nightstand. It was a text from Kyle: “I’m almost there,” I said, reading it aloud. “I’m at the intersection near the tavern. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Shit!” Rasheed said. He jumped out of the bed, threw on his shorts and pulled up his pants. “I gotta get out of here.”

  I ran to the bathroom, panicking. I looked into the full-length mirror. My pussy hair was matted down with sperm. Pearl-colored semen filled my slit completely and was dripping down my inner thigh. “Fuck!” I grabbed a bar of soap from the sink, jumped inside the shower, turned it on and quickly washed myself.

  When I got out, Rasheed was long gone. I dried myself off and put back on my bra and panties. I pulled my makeup bag out of the luggage, brushed my hair and fixed my makeup as best as I could. Then I put my dress back on. I realized then that I needed another person to zip it up in back, but that’s all I could do. So I sat down on the edge of the bed, my virgin white dress opened up in back, my bra exposed.

  Kyle burst through the door. “Jazz, I’m so sorry,” he said, out of breath. He was wearing his all-white groom’s tuxedo with tails, sweating like crazy.

  “It’s okay, honey,” I said, holding my arms out to him. “It’s time to come to bed.”

  He started to take off his tux. I stood up and helped him undress, kissing him as I did. Finally, he helped me remove my dress. He didn’t seem to notice that it was unzipped, and when it was off I lay down on the bed, one knee bent, and he looked at me.

  “My goodness, Jazz, you are stunning.”

  His penis was erect, making a little tent in his white briefs. He climbed up on top of me and we made out for a while as I played with his cock and balls through his cotton underwear. Then, for the second time that night, I removed my white bra and panties. Kyle removed his undies. With his thin four-and-a-half inch penis standing proudly, he lined himself up at my entrance. I wrapped my white stocking-clad legs around him as he pushed forward.

  I couldn’t really feel much. I wanted to ask him if he was inside but I just held him close to me and breathed heavily. “Yes, Kyle. I want you so badly.” As he began thrusting his hips, I knew he was inside of me.

  “God, baby, you feel so wet.” As he kissed me, his tongue swirling around mine, I moaned. He had no idea that his little weiner was lubricated by Rasheed’s semen.

  He fucked me for a good ten minutes in the missionary position then he pulled out. I knew the routine. He wanted a little oral before I rode him cowgirl. He lay down on the bed and I lay down beside him, my mouth at his crotch. I couldn’t help but notice how tiny he was compared to Rasheed. It was so easy to take Kyle’s little tool in my mouth and pleasure him with my tongue. It was cute little Vienna sausage, nothing like Rasheed’s kielbasa.

  Kyle was moaning as I sucked his penis, his hands running through my hair, and I did my best to lick and play with his balls. He was fully erect again and ready for more intercour
se, but for some reason I decided that tonight I would get him off with my mouth. I went at it with determination.

  “Oh baby, no, not--” He moved his body a bit, as if trying to take that penis from me, but I would have nothing of it. My tongue licked and lashed his penis head, going at it with full intensity. I felt his legs and body tense, and he started humping a bit at my mouth. I knew he was close. Instantly, I removed my mouth and jerked him quickly up and down with my hand and smiled at him. His face was in ecstasy as I finished him off. His weiner managed to spurt a little squirt of his juice into the air before it drooled all over my fingers.

  “I’ll get a tissue,” I said. I washed my hands with soap in the bathroom and then brought in some tissues to clean him up. Kyle said he was tired and I said we should just go to sleep after a long day. When we got in bed, he soon fell asleep. While I was laying there, I felt a little pulling sensation in my uterus and I knew that my egg had dropped. The next thing I remember, it was morning.

  We had a wonderful breakfast that morning and were looking forward to a day of fun. Unfortunately, we both were laying out in the sun and Kyle’s alarm on his phone didn’t go off. We both got terrible sunburns and that pretty much ruined the first few days. We were so burned that we didn’t want to do much of anything, least of all have somebody touching your body having sex. But we were in better shape near the end of the week and we made up for lost time, having sex two or three times a day. Kyle did a fine job and gave me an orgasm each time. It was a great time.

  A few weeks after we returned from the honeymoon, I started to feel sick. The pregnancy test just confirmed what I already knew. I’m now seven months pregnant. Kyle is all excited about the baby. He already knew that Rasheed had fulfilled his responsibilities for him at the wedding and reception, but he didn’t know about the wedding night. I sat him down and told him what happened. Although he was upset at first, he understood that Rasheed was doing what he’d asked him to do.

  Although Kyle didn’t ejaculate inside of me on our wedding night, we did have sex and he’s still holding out a small sliver of hope that he’s the biological father. But he’s being mature about it and understands that the baby is our baby no matter the skin color. We both agreed that Rasheed should have no rights or responsibilities for the child, and that Kyle’s name will go on the birth certificate. As Kyle put it, “I’m the real husband not Rasheed, and I’m going to be the real father.” He’s such a great guy!

  THE ARRANGED MARRIAGE

  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 Elijah. My wife Savannah and I are both forty-one years old. We’ve been married for sixteen years and we have four beautiful children.

  Although we’ve known each other since grade school and planned on marrying right after college, our marriage wasn’t Savannah’s first marriage. Her father is Syrian and he decided that she should get married to a man from the old country, someone who shared their language and Orthodox faith. After searching, they found a family who had a son named Kostas that they wished to marry. They sent him to the United States to meet Savannah.

  Although Savannah and I were a loving and happy couple, she had often told me that she wished she’d had the chance to spend a number of years single before meeting me so that she could experiment sexually. When Kostas arrived and he was a tall, muscular man of African descent, she was instantly attracted to him.

  She told me that she was going to spend some time getting to know him just to please her father but she wasn’t going to marry him. But I heard from her younger sister Sarah that Savannah had started sleeping with him. “She says he’s incredible in bed. He has a big African penis and it makes her come like crazy! She cried out in pleasure so loud!” I was shocked when I heard it, but worse was what she said next. “I hope I don’t hurt your ego or anything, but she said that you’re no good in bed and after having him she could never go back to you. You’re going to learn soon anyway.”

  I didn’t really believe her but a week later, when Kostas was about to return to Syria, she told me that she was going with him. “I’m sorry honey, but after getting to know him I’ve realized that he’s the right man for me. I hope you’ll forgive me?” I told her that I wished her the best and I gave her my blessing.

  Over the next couple of years, I didn’t have much luck in the dating world. Frankly, I wasn’t trying very hard because I was still in love with Savannah. She would call me every week and tell me how things were going with Kostos. Apparently he was a violent and abusive man and although the sex was great, he would force her to have sex all the time. He also wanted to keep her barefoot and pregnant, refusing birth control. They had two babies the first two years of their marriage.

  Her parents were encouraging her to leave him. I told Savannah that she should leave him and come back to the United States, divorce him and marry me. She pointed out that she had two young children and she didn’t want to leave them without a father. I assured her that I would happily raise the children as my own if she would come back home. Crying, she admitted that she really had no choice.

  I was at the airport when Savannah arrived home. She was there with her two babies. We had a tearful reunion and I held her in my arms, then I helped her carry them out of the airport and back to her parents’ house. I bought a beautiful engagement ring and proposed to her, and even though she was still technically married and it took a year to get the divorce, everybody knew that we were a couple.

  Both of our families were happy and supportive of us. My parents weren’t too thrilled that she had two black babies. And when we found out a month later that she three months pregnant with twins, they were even less happy. But I can tell you that those four kids only know me as their father, and I love those little tykes dearly. Any man can be a sperm donor but it takes a real man to raise a child. Since Kostos doesn’t pay his child support, I’ve taken on all of his parenting duties.

  Savannah has been on the birth control pill since she returned to the United States. Although we’ve talked about possibly having a child of our own, she feels that our four children is really enough. She’s also expressed concern that I might favor my biological child over my other children, and that wouldn’t be fair to them.

  For my part, I love it in bed when Savannah tells me about having sex with Kostos. She tells me about his big cock pounding her and how great it felt inside, stretching and filling her completely, and how it made her really feel like a woman. While I’m rubbing my little penis inside of her, she tells me intense her orgasms were and how she’d pray that she was being impregnated by that strong, sexy man. Just thinking of that virile black stud breeding gets her hot and helps bring her to orgasm. It’s a huge turn on for me, too.

  Although her black lover is on the other side of the world, he’s never far away from our bedroom. He’s still bringing immense pleasure to Savannah, but now he’s doing the same for me!

  A TEMPORARY SOLUTION

  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.

  * * *

  When my husband Colin got into a serious car accident, he was hospitalized for three months. I’ve always been a very sexual person, and losing my sex partner was quite a blow. We’d normally have sex five or more times a week, usually with me initiating. I’m in my mid-twenties and really not interested in being celibate. At one point, while standing next to his hospital bed, Colin asked me about it and I was honest with him.

  “I never intended for monogamy to mean celibacy. Having sex with only you isn’t supposed to mean having sex with nobody at all.”

  “Arianna,” he said, “I don’t expect you to be exclusive when I’m stuck here like this. If you want to take a lover temporarily, I’m okay with it. But once I’m out, you need to break it off.”

  When I was walking out of the hospital toward the parking garage, I felt more excited than I had in years. I hadn’t been with another man since I met Colin five years ago. This was my chance to have a little fun while I could.

  I called Cathy, one of my single girlfriends, and met her for drinks at a bar near the university. She’s turning forty and has a thing for college age boys, but she’s always getting lucky. We sat at the bar chatting with each other and talking to the bartender. We got some attention by some nerdy guys and some losers, but finally we were approached by two handsome young guys. The white guy introduced himself to Cathy as Eric. The black guy walked up to me and introduced himself as Perry.

  Perry said he played on the university’s basketball team. Although he was wearing a button-up shirt, the sleeves were rolled up and I could tell that he was heavily muscled. I loved the smell of his cologne and his smile, and I was totally getting turned on from our conversation. Cathy asked if I would accompany her to the bathroom, which I did.