MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance
Page 69
For the last seven years, Jeremias has come over to our house three or four times a week. Donna’s sex drive has still never returned, even though their kids are older, but she’s glad that Jeremias isn’t out cheating on her with random women to satisfy his needs. We now have two kids of our own, and given that one of them is black it’s not hard to figure out that little Jerry is his son. Kennedy didn’t intend on getting pregnant with Jeremias’s baby but we weren’t unhappy about it, and I feel it’s helped bring us all closer. Thankfully, my wife hasn’t lost her sex drive. Kennedy still has sex with me about once every week or so, so I’m not being deprived in that way. It’s worked out great for both of our families!
SAVING OUR CHILD
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.
* * *
“The only thing that can save him is a bone marrow transplant,” the doctor said.
My wife Emma, 32, was heartbroken. We have two children together, but technically my son isn’t mine. He was born when Emma was a teenager, with a black guy named Dereece. He was twelve years older than her and a criminal, going in and out of incarceration. He was the love of her life but she knew that their relationship was toxic, and he was constantly sleeping with other women, so she ended it.
When we got home, we talked about the doctor’s prognosis. Unfortunately, our daughter didn’t have the right bone marrow to save her half-brother. He really needed a fully blooded sibling to save his life.
“Aidan,” Emma said, “I know we said we were done. But if we have another baby, it could save our son’s life.”
“You want to have another baby?”
“Yes,” she said. “I talked with Shawn,” she said, referring to Dereece’s brother. “He’s out of prison right now. We need another baby and I want to know that you support me in this.”
I didn’t like the idea of her getting back together with Dereece, even if it was just for sex. Emma was addicted to him, even though he was a total loser. He’d been violent to her many times and she’d had to get restraining order at one point. But I understood that it was necessary. I promised her that I would support her decision. Emma went off the pill that day. And soon, she was texting and messaging with Dereece. I invited him to come over to our house, when the kids were in bed, to have sex with my wife.
I’ll never forget that first night. He showed up wearing a hoodie and jeans hanging down, with a bandana wrapped over his head. I saw Emma’s face light up as she saw him for the first time in years. Still, for a man in his forties he looked impressive, with a ripped body. I guess when you spend all your time locked up in prison, you have a lot of time to work out. The two of them kissed passionately near the doorway before she led him upstairs to our bedroom.
I waited downstairs for them to do the deed. I was surprised, though, that I was able to hear so much. Emma was moaning loudly, and I could hear the headboard banging against the wall. “Fuck, I’m coming,” she moaned deeply. They had sex for nearly an hour and in that time I heard her call out an orgasm twice. Finally, they came downstairs, Dereece fully dressed and Emma wearing just a bra and panties. They both looked sweaty and well fucked.
“I missed that big cock of yours,” she said, smiling as she pressed her body up against him. She held up four fingers. “You made me come four times.”
“Yeah, bitch, you always loved black cock.”
The two of them kissed passionately, then Dereece went home. After that night, Dereece began stopping by regularly to take care of my wife’s needs. After he left, I would go up to the bedroom and reclaim my wife. She would insist that I ate her pussy clean before I could have intercourse. I was a reluctant at first, but I soon began to enjoy tasting her black lover’s cream. Of course, I had to use condoms with my wife because she was trying to get pregnant by Dereece, but I was so turned on that I didn’t mind it. One time, while taking my sloppy seconds, she confessed to me that the sex with Dereece was hot and amazing, far better than the hubby-wifey love making we do.
It only took a couple of months for Emma to get pregnant. Unfortunately, when the baby was born we learned that he wasn’t a match, so we had to try again. And the second time we had better luck. Later that year, Emma gave birth to triplets and two of them (twins) were a match. It saved our oldest son’s life.
We now have six children, five of whom are black. Emma loved the sex so much that she refused to give up Dereece as a lover. She got a tubal ligation, though, so we don’t have to worry about any further pregnancies. Now I get to take her bare, feeling my cock marinating in her semen-soaked snatch as I follow Dereece in bed. We’re tired from changing all the diapers but otherwise we’re very happy together. I just hope that Dereece doesn’t get sent back to prison and ruin what we have going because our sex life is better than ever!
HER OTHER CO-WORKER
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 I first saw Emily, I was in love. She’s a cute young redhead who works at my plant in the main office. I finally got up the courage to talk with her.
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” she said. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not really interested in dating right now.”
Although I was disappointed, I believed her and understood why she might feel that way. I had a girlfriend for two years in high school and it was hard when we broke up. I didn’t want to see anybody else, but eventually I moved on.
But then a couple of weeks later, I heard from some guys on the line that Emily was dating Kunal, a black guy who worked the third shift.
“Yeah, he’s giving it to her good,” my buddy Charlie said, chuckling with a big smile on his face as he pulled the lever. “They say he has a big cock and she loves getting fucked by it.”
I hadn’t told the guys that I was interested in Emily, and it was tough listening to them. From the stories going around the plant, the sweet looking girl from the office was a total slut, taking his black cock up her ass and doing ATM (ass to mouth), licking and sucking his shit-covered cock until he blasted his cum down her throat. One of the guys said that Kunal passed her around to his friends.
I was totally shocked by the stories and figured they weren’t true. But about a month later, I was sitting in my car and saw Emily inside of Kunal’s truck in the parking lot. I saw him lean back and looking down, while Emily looked out the window to see if anybody was watching, then her head went down to his lap. Soon her head was bobbing, and there was a look of sheer pleasure on the black man’s face. I’m not sure if I ever saw the tip of his cock, but I could tell that her hands were moving furiously just below the dashboard and she had her tongue stuck out. Shots of white fluid landed all over her tongue and face, and she squinted as some of it seemed
to hit her eye. She managed to smile, though, as he handed her some napkins and she wiped herself clean.
Things went badly for them, though, when Emily got pregnant. Kunal became angry and she had to get a restraining order against him. Soon he quit his job and he moved away without telling anybody where he went. Once again there were rumors on the line. According to Charlie, Kunal was pissed because Emily didn’t know who if he was the father of the baby but she wanted him to be the father anyway, and he decided he’d rather just split than deal with it. I had no idea whether it was true.
A few months after giving birth to a black baby girl, Emily returned to work. I asked her out and this time she accepted. She told me that Kunal was just an immature man who would accept his responsibilities. After dating her for a couple of months, she finally allowed me to get her in bed. When we did, I found out that she’s very vanilla in bed, only missionary and doggy style, and she claimed that she doesn’t do blowjobs because “it’s disgusting.” Of course, I’d witnessed her giving a blowjob to Kunal but I didn’t mention it. She was nice enough to say that my penis, while much smaller than Kunal’s horse cock, is almost better because he was so big that intercourse was often painful. With me, she says it never hurts; in fact, she usually can’t feel me at all.
Emily and I are now engaged to get married. I’ve decided to do the right thing and had my name added to the birth certificate as the father. Kunal isn’t in her life and it’s not our daughter’s fault, so it was the right thing to do. Emily had only planned on having one child and now that our daughter is potty trained, she loves having her freedom back and doesn’t want to go back. I do see Emily eyeing attractive black men and sometimes she flirts with them, and I wonder if she misses Kunal’s big dick. Sometimes I see them typing into their phones and wonder if she’s giving them her phone number or email address. But then I remember how much we love each other and how I’m a good provider, and I realize there’s no reason for me to be afraid or jealous.
KISSING BOOTH AT THE COUNTY FAIR
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 wife volunteers for the 4-H program in our area. This past summer, they were having a presentation at the county fair and one of the leaders asked if my wife Peyton would work the kissing booth. She’s a beautiful blonde and at 32, she looks like she’s in her mid-twenties. She agreed and we took the whole family there.
I was taking the kids around to the various rides and getting them cotton candy and other junk food. They were having a great time. But after a while I walked over to see how Peyton was doing. When I arrived at the booth, I saw a tall black man standing there. He was definitely in shape and I could tell by his shirt and jewelry that he was a wealthy guy. Peyton was standing inside the booth, looking calm with her hands in her jean back pockets and rocking on her heels. Her good friend Lindsey, who was helping run the 4-H booths, was standing by with a sly smile. He was saying something to my wife, then handed her quite a few bills. It was strange because a person is supposed to pay with tickets rather than case. Then he leaned in and she leaned forward, and they began to kiss.
The black man put one hand behind her head and another behind her back. He was kissing her long and good, and I could tell they were definitely French kissing. Then I saw her head angle to the other side and her hands reach behind his back, holding him against her as they kissed. I was shocked. From what I’d been told, it was supposed to be limited to a kiss on the lips.
Just then my youngest daughter told me she had to go to the bathroom and it was an emergency. I took all the kids to the port-a-potties and took care of business, all the while I couldn’t get the image out of my mind. As soon as I could, I took the kids back to the kissing booth. When I got there, Lindsey was standing there with a shit eating grin on her face. I asked her where Peyton was and she just shrugged, saying that she’s on break and she could be anywhere.
I turned around and walked up to the guy at the lemonade booth. He was also grinning. I asked him if he’d seen where the blonde in the kissing booth had gone. He pointed toward the big barn and she walked that way with a black guy. I was pretty pissed at that point. I asked Lindsey to watch my kids while I went after my wife.
I walked through the grass and, behind the big barn, I heard some sounds coming from the empty animal stalls. I walked in through the main entrance and I could see the naked torso of the black man I’d seen earlier, and his hands going down in front of him, his hips moving back and forth. I could see about half of my wife’s head popping up above the top of the stall, her delicate hands on either side of the stall, as she moaned in pleasure. I could see her eyes rolling inside her head. For some strange reason, the sight was turning me on.
I sneaked around to the side of the stalls to get a better view. I could see his muscular black ass pumping as he fucked my wife doggy style, her jeans down around her ankles. His hands were on her ass and he would smack her ass every once in a while, not slowing down his thrusts for a moment. Peyton had gotten looser downstairs after having our kids but his large cock was filling her tight as a drum, and if her groans of joy were any indication, she was loving it. His big black balls were rocking, swinging with each thrust.
Soon the black guy grunted and stopped fucking her, and then slowly pulled out. I saw a large glob of semen slide out of her cunt.
“Shit,” she said, wiping away his seed with her hand. “I hope I don’t get pregnant.” She pulled up her panties and jeans.
“You ain’t on the pill?” he asked.
“No, my husband has a vasectomy. I don’t normally cheat on him and I wasn’t planning on this happening, so I didn’t bring my diaphragm.”
That surprised me. I didn’t know she had a diaphragm.
The two of them kissed some more, then the black guy walked out of the stalls alone. A couple minutes later, Peyton walked out by herself and returned to the kissing booth.
I never mentioned to my wife what behind the big barn. But I noticed she seemed pretty worried when her period didn’t come. About a month later, she started complaining of nausea but her period finally came a week later with a heavy flow. I don’t know for sure, but I think the black guy impregnated her and she had a miscarriage. I wonder if Peyton thought the same way, and whether she was happy or disappointed that she didn’t have his baby. Whatever the case, thinking about what I saw at the county fair never fails to get me excited. Peyton has noticed that I’m more sexual around her now but she has no idea why!
HELPING HER FRIEND’S 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 wife Madison is a beautiful blue-eyed brunette, and at twenty-six with two kids, she’s managed to keep herse
lf in great shape. She has a nice hourglass figure with an ample bosom and a round butt. Men are always checking her out. Some guys might be offended by that but I’m proud of it. It’s really a compliment, as I see it.
Her best friend is Heather, an attractive if somewhat trashy blonde who is married to Rakim, an aspiring rapper who wears dreadlocks and baggy jeans. I’ve heard some of his music and it sounds great to me, but so far he hasn’t gotten a contract from a label.
A few years ago, something happened that changed our lives in a significant way. Heather was caught possessing prescription painkillers, among other crimes. She took a plea deal that allowed her to get out in eighteen months. It sounded like a good deal but Heather was in tears.
“He’s going to leave me,” she said to my wife, sitting in our den. “Rakim says he won’t go eighteen months without sex. He’s talking divorce. He says he’s going to take the children.”
“I’m sorry,” Maddie said. Heather and Rakim had three kids together. “Have you thought about leaving the kids without your mother?”
“She won’t take them,” she replied. “And I don’t want to lose Rakim. There are groupies who are all over him, at the studio and events. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s faithful as it is.”
We’d all heard rumors that Rakim had impregnated other women. He denied it, of course, but we didn’t know the truth.
“Let me talk with Ethan. I’ll see if there’s something we can do.”
That was all I overheard until I walked outside to the garage to start the lawn mower. But later that day, Maddie sat me down.