MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance

by POLLY ANDREA BUSCH

  I had two other lovers at the time, Roger who was white and Somondre who was black. Ryan seemed very concerned about this, especially about the possibility that I might get pregnant with a black baby.

  “Honey, I thought you were better than that. I don’t support racism and I’m not going to discriminate against my black lover.”

  Ryan claimed that he was just concerned for interracial children, that they aren’t fully accepted by either community, and that people might look down on us if we had a black baby. I explained to him that it’s racist and using those kinds of arguments helps to prevent societal progress. He was hesitant about it, but he understood and agreed with me.

  I knew that giving two white guys a chance but only one black guy would be inherently unfair. So to make it fair, when I went off the pill, I decided that my black lover Somondre would get the “first slot” – he’d take me bare during the days immediately prior to my ovulation and then the first two days of my ovulation. The “second slot,” the next two days of ovulation, would go to my white lover Roger. The “third slot” would go to my husband, who would get to take what was left of my ovulation up through my period.

  Somondre was even more excited that usual, knowing that they were trying to make a baby. My husband Ryan was masturbating furiously in the bathroom, listening to the sounds of our lovemaking in the bedroom.

  “That’s right, bitch. I’m gonna give you a black baby. That pussy husband of yours is gonna raise my black babies.”

  “Give me your baby, Somondre,” I pleaded. “I love your black cock, baby. It feels so good in my pussy.”

  My husband and I had a simultaneous orgasm – him inside the bathroom grunting as he came into a sock, and me climaxing as my sexy black lover filled me with his virile seed.

  “That’s it, baby,” I said, writhing in climax. “Your black bazooka shoots sperm so much further than my husband’s little squirt gun.” Somondre was staring ahead blankly, the last of his sperm spilling from his cock and filling my crevice completely. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, got dressed and left. Then Ryan came in from the bathroom and at my pussy.

  I knew that my husband was cheating. He was licking and sucking up Somondre’s sperm, his tongue digging deeply to remove every drop. But I knew that his efforts were ultimately futile. My insides were coated with Somondre’s seed. Not only were his egg-seeking sperm searching for my egg at that moment, but other sperm were taking station in every nook and cranny, prepared to block and kill any other man’s sperm that might arrive. Still, Ryan enjoyed licking me clean and he brought me to a modest orgasm in the process. Of course, I did not have any sex with my husband that night.

  Somondre visited me again the next night, and then Roger came the next two nights to take his opportunity. Roger’s cock is only seven inches long but it’s much longer and thicker than my husband’s little thing, and it’s quite enjoyable. Like Somondre, he’s a dominant and arrogant guy, and no matter how much I love “nice” I really want a strong man to take me in bed. Roger and I were both very excited to be trying for a baby, and judging by Ryan’s squeaky groans behind the bathroom door, he was loving it, too. I came hard each time, with my husband eating my sperm-soaked pussy for additional pleasure.

  Finally, it was Ryan’s turn. His five inch penis had been pulled and jerked relentlessly the last four days, but he still managed to get it up and to stick it inside of me. It wasn’t anywhere near as hot as the sex I’d had with my lovers but we both enjoyed it. When he finally came, he pushed in balls deep but that little Vienna sausage couldn’t go in all that far compared to the kielbasas I’d been taking. I also knew that he’s been masturbating so much that he wouldn’t have much ammunition to fire, just a few little drips dribbling out the end. I knew that if my egg had not yet been fertilized, whatever few soldiers Ryan could manage to drop into the battlefield would be facing countless battalions of my lovers’ sperm, hopelessly outnumbering and overpowering them, easily blocking and killing my husband’s seed.

  Sure enough, I found that I was pregnant after that week of lovemaking. We were all on pins and needles wondering who had succeeded in giving me a baby. We were all very excited. When the baby was born with dark skin and nappy hair, we knew that Somondre had won the competition. My white lover Roger was understandably disappointed, and said that it was unfair that Somondre got to go first. But I agreed that for our next and final baby, I would make it up to him by allowing him to have both the first and second slots. My husband would still get his chance with the third slot.

  I’m now pregnant with my second and final baby, as I’m getting my tubes tied at the hospital. Both my lover and my husband are very excited, eager to learn who won the competition. I’m excited, too. Either way, though, my husband will be raising the babies as his own. He’s already the father one baby that’s black and soon will be the father of a white baby. It’s a balanced and diversified family!

  LETTING HER TRY IT

  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 met my wife Olivia, we were both twenty and she’d only dated one other guy before me. In our mid-twenties, after two years of marriage, she confessed to me that one of her regrets was never getting the chance to date a black guy. There was a guy who liked her back in high school and she wanted to date him but her father made it clear that he thought women who did that were the lowest of the low. But she’d always thought black guys were hot and wondered about what it would be like to sleep with one.

  Olivia’s friend Angelina was dating a black guy at the time and from how she described it, the sex was fantastic. Her boyfriend Qwantez was an unemployed carpenter who was living in her apartment. We thought he was just using her for money but Olivia denied that.

  “I’m getting something out of the relationship,” Olivia said. “The best sex of my life.” Although she had always been pretty promiscuous and had the chance to sample quite a few guys, she claimed that Qwantez had a large cock and he knew how to use it. “It’s not just the cock, though. He’s a handsome, sexy man and I just love the taboo of being with a black man.”

  Olivia kept hinting to me that she would like to try out a black guy like Qwantez. I never really answered her, just saying that I thought our sex life was pretty good. But one day we were at party at a mutual friend’s house and Angelina had to leave early to address a work emergency. Qwantez wanted to stay and we agreed to drive him back to his apartment. But it wasn’t long before he got my wife alone and began hitting on her aggressively.

  “What should I do, Tyler?” my wife asked. She was inebriated but also clearly aroused. Although she was pretending to be concerned about it, I felt that she was really asking for my permission. I told her that if they wanted to have some fun in the guest room, I would be okay with it just this one time. Olivia smiled and said, “Thanks, I think I will.”

  I went back to the kitchen and mingled, but as I sipped my wine and dined on cheese and crackers, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the guest room. So I sneaked over there and opened the door.

  “Oh, God, baby,” Olivia moaned, her face red and flush, on her hands and knees. They didn’t even remove everybody’s coats, which were piled on the left side of the bed as they fucked doggy style. Her hands were firmly grabbing the thick fur blanket on the bed as she faced the window. “Your cock
feels so good inside of me.”

  “I love your tight pussy,” Qwantez said, his red button-up shirt still on. “I love feeling that tight, wet pussy. That white pussy on my bare cock.”

  I was already surprised that they would have sex without locking the door, knowing that people had their coats in there and could walk in at any time. Who knows, maybe that was a kink of his. But hearing that my wife was allowing him to take her bare just stunned me. Olivia had gone off the pill when we had our first baby and we’d been using condoms ever since, as she didn’t want to breast feed with hormones and also figuring that we’d try for another baby soon. She carried some condoms in her purse just in case, so that she’d always be prepared if we decided to have some unexpected sexy time. But now my wife, fertile and unprotected, had her tight little white cunt overstuffed by this virile black man’s cock. His hands were on her hips, pulling her toward him with every thrust.

  “Oh, God, I’m almost there,” he said.

  “Pull out, baby,” Olivia moaned, looking back at him, her right hand reaching back beneath her and diddling her clit. “Shoot your stuff on my ass.”

  “I will,” he said, speeding up his pace. That made me feel relieved. “Oh shit, baby. Here it comes!”

  “I’m cumming, too!” Olivia moaned loudly as her black lover pushed in all the way, impossibly deep, gripping her hips hard and holding my wife against him as he ejaculated millions of his sperm right inside of her. They both grunted as they rode out their climaxes. Then he pulled out his cock and a bunch of semen gooed out of her and landed on the fur blanket beneath them.

  I closed the door and went back to the party. About fifteen minutes later, Olivia walked up to me.

  “How’d it go?” I asked.

  “Great,” she said, though she looked a little distracted. “His cock was as good as she said.”

  When we got home that night, I was eager to get Olivia in bed. We had some hot sex and I was so excited by what I’d seen earlier that night, I came hard into the condom. My wife’s period was late and soon she took a pregnancy test and it confirmed that she was pregnant. As I hadn’t came in her unprotected in years, we knew that I wasn’t the father. But a month later, Olivia had a heavy period which we believe was a miscarriage. Both of us were very relieved but also a little sad that she wasn’t going to have a black baby. Given her parents and especially her dad, we know it was for the best, but I can’t get the image of her breast feeding a black baby out of my mind. Who knows, maybe we will do it intentionally some day?

  AROUND THE CAMPFIRE

  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.

  * * *

  While I was going to college, I spent my summers working as a counselor at Camp Whitebush, a girls’ summer camp. I’d gone to the camp as a kid and I loved everything about it, and I’d always looked up to the camp counselors so when I had the opportunity to become one, I jumped on it. It’s only an hour away from my parents’ house so I was able to live in my old room. Also, my then-boyfriend Jack (now my husband) also lived nearby so he was able to visit me sometimes.

  Although there were cabins at Camp Whitebush, it was primarily a day camp. The kids only stayed the night for the final week of the summer. It was my final summer after college before getting a real job. Jack and I had agreed that we’d get married after college and I was expecting a proposal in the fall, so it was my last summer as a single woman. And that summer, there was a new male counselor at Whitebush. His name was Najeem and he was tall, handsome, dominant and sexy. He was also a dark-skinned black man, which really stood out in our nearly all-white part of the state. All of the girls were attracted to him but most of us had boyfriends.

  There were a couple of single counselors, though, who hooked up with Najeem and they’d shared their stories with us. From what they said, he was very well-equipped, with a penis that dwarfed the white boys’ penises they’d been with. The largest that any of the girls had been with was seven-and-a-half inches but the guy was very thin. Najeem’s cock was a couple inches longer than that and very thick. Marianne, one of the younger girls, said that having sex with him was a totally different experience than her ex-boyfriend. Najeem’s whopper felt amazing the way it filled her up, almost too much for her, and it rubbed against her g-spot the entire time, giving her almost constant orgasms. The other girls agreed that the sex was just incredible with him.

  For some reason, Najeem seemed to take a liking to me. He would flirt with me in the lunch hall, and he’d compliment me a lot. One time, after having a fight with Jack, I was standing on the east dock looking out at the lake and thinking about my relationship. Najeem walked up to me, put his arms around me and held me in his arms and told me that everything would be all right. I felt so safe in his powerful arms, his body was so big and strong, and his body scent was simply intoxicating. I felt myself getting wet from him holding me, and while we didn’t kiss, it was obvious that there was intense mutual attraction.

  In that last week, when the younger kids were staying the night in the cabins, I was one of the four counselors tasked with watching the tents with the older kids. The other counselors were Tammy, Marianne and Najeem. Tammy was in a committed relationship like me, and while Marianne and Najeem had been lovers something had gone wrong between them and things were really icy. So, we split the watch in half, with Tammy and Marianne watching the tents around one campfire while we watched the other.

  We had thirty teenage boys sitting in rings around the bonfire. Najeem sat in front and told them a ghost story that had everybody’s rapt attention. I loved the story but also seeing the way the boys looked up to Najeem, it just made me so hot. He was so strong and arrogant, and the boys respected him totally. After we got the boys in their tents, in their sleeping bags, we went around to each tent making sure they were going to sleep.

  Once we had them turn all their lights out, Najeem and I sat around the fire in the pure darkness of the night. He sat down right next to me, looked around to make sure that we were alone, and pulled out a metal flask. He took a swig and handed it to me.

  “Rum and coke,” he said. “You want some?”

  “Thanks.” I took it and drank a few swallows. It was strong but delicious, and I tasted a little coconut flavor in there. We sat together and stared into the fire, passing the flask back and forth.

  “This is our last chance,” Najeem said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean for us,” he said, the fire flickering in his eyes. “You know we’re made for each other. My body is meant for yours.”

  I laughed. “I have a boyfriend. I think you’re very attractive but I can’t.”

  “You’re not married,” he said. “You’re not engaged. You’re a single woman. We both know that if you deny me, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. You’ll always wonder what it would have been like.”

  I sat there silently for a moment. I knew what he was saying was true, already regretting the opportunities I’d missed out on by getting into a relationship so early. But I didn’t want to cheat on Jack.

  Suddenly, Najeem leaned over and began kissing me. It took my breath away, my body on fire as I kissed him back. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life never knowing what it would be like to make love to strong, dominant man like Najeem. His body was strong, ripped with muscles, unlike Jack’s soft body. My boyf
riend was nice but I wanted more than nice – I wanted a man. I felt his package and my God, it was big. It really was much larger than my boyfriend’s penis. I worried that I might not be able to go back after experiencing a real man, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Najeem was aggressive, pulling off my shirt and exposing my bra. If I hadn’t been drinking I’m sure I would have stopped there, but he kept at it, removing my bra and undoing my jeans. I looked at the tents which were all dark. The other tents were beyond the hill, and they couldn’t see us. I’d heard about a camp counselor who was fired for having sex but it was our last week and there really was nothing to lose. I went with it, following my body’s needs, and removed Najeem’s shirt. I smelled his intoxicating scent of his sweaty chest, with the smell of camp smoke on his body and rum on his breath. Soon took me about ten feet away, laid down a thin blanket, and we lay down together with his naked body on top of mine. We kissed passionately, my hands running all over his beautiful physique.

  I thought he’d have wanted a blowjob first, but he just went straight for it. He got on top of me in the flickering light, lined his cock up at my entrance, and began pushing it inside of me. I could hear the crickets and my black lover’s breathing as his thick dick slowly inched its way inside of me. I held my breath. “Go easy,” I whispered, looking into his eyes. He just smirked and kept at it. I didn’t think I could take it all. Inch after inch, he pushed in relentlessly, pulling out only to push in deeper than before. Finally, I felt his legs against me, fully penetrating me. The feeling was so different, so full, and it was just beautiful and strange and delicious.

  My breathing was picking up and I moaned quietly as I held his body against mine, his hips thrusting inside of me, his mighty cock going miles deeper than Jack’s little thing ever could. As Najeem had predicted, my body was made for his and it was just so beautiful, the bright moonlight and the fire illuminating the black Adonis on top of me. With Jack I can only orgasm from his tongue, and I don’t know how or why but I began to feel an orgasm building. He hadn’t touched my clitoris but an orgasm coursed through my body and I struggled to suppress a deep, delightful moan, my head next to his, my grateful lips near his ear.