SHE THOUGHT I WAS DEAD!
By Polly Andrea Busch
Copyright 2016 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.
* * *
Isabelle and I were high school sweethearts. She’s a pretty brunette with big, firm breasts and an hourglass figure. Honestly, Isabelle was the only girl I ever wanted. I was elated when she accepted my first date, and our relationship went smoothly. We married soon after graduation.
At the time, my parents were retiring down to Florida and they allowed us to buy their house for a dollar. I studied engineering at the university while Isabelle worked as a receptionist at a nearby dentist’s office. Although Isabelle had always wanted to be a stay-at-home mother, we decided that we wouldn’t have kids until I was first established in my career.
I was twenty-two when I received a job offer I couldn’t refuse. A foreign company wanted to hire me as a contractor in the Middle East. The pay was nearly triple what I’d make in a year for a six month stint. Isabelle cried when I left but she knew it was the right choice for our family. Things were pretty rough the first six months, as we hadn’t been apart in years, but we talked on the phone every few days and video chatted about once every week or two.
Then one day I was riding with some co-workers in a van over to a military compound when we were surrounded by militants. They killed the van’s driver and one of my fellow engineers. The other three of us were taken captive by Arabic-speaking men, drove in a dusty jeep for an hour and thrown into a dark concrete cell. We lived as prisoners for nearly four years before British soldiers raided the compound and freed us.
I was in London preparing to fly to the United States. I was so excited to fly home. When I called Isabelle, she was shocked to hear me. She was crying with joy. The militants had told everybody that we’d been killed, and they’d showed the bodies of two of my co-workers who had died. Everybody, including my family, believed that I was dead. A lot had changed over the last four years, she said, and we would need to talk about it when I got home. She said that she’d be waiting for me at the airport.
When I got off the plane, Isabelle was standing there crying. But she was clearly pregnant, with a huge belly and probably in the third trimester, and she was holding the hand of a tall, muscular black man. She gave me a hug and introduced the black guy as Willie. He shook my hand with a powerful grip. The guy had a huge athletic body with broad shoulders and a deep voice. I found him to be quite intimidating.
As we drove back to my house in their minivan, Isabelle explained to me that after she believed I was dead, she began dating Willie, her co-worker. They married a year later. She gave birth to a baby boy, then to twin boys a year later, and now she was pregnant with a baby girl. Four babies was enough, she said, especially considering that her current pregnancy and the prior one were very difficult. Now that they were going to have a girl, they planned on getting her tubes tied at the hospital when the baby is born.
It was clear that Isabelle had moved on with her new husband. The house that had once been ours was inherited by Isabelle upon my “death,” and now was owned jointly by Willie and Isabelle. They agreed to let me stay in the guest room until I found a place of my own.
That night, as I was lying in bed, I could hear Isabelle and Willie whispering and giggling. The master bedroom was on the other side of the wall, and the vent allowed pretty much ever sound to come through clearly.
“I don’t know,” Isabelle asked innocently. “What do you want from me?”
“You know what I want, baby,” Willie said sweetly. “I need that sweet white pussy.”
Soon I heard her softly moaning as my old bed squeaked. “Yes, Willie,” she cooed. “I love to feel your thick black cock filling me up completely.”
I could hear smacking sounds and I wondered what it was until I heard Isabelle say, “Yes, I’m a naughty girl. Smack my dirty little ass.”
“Tell me how much you love that black cock,” Willie said. “You like it, don’cha? Better than your old husband?”
“So much better, baby.” She was breathing heavily, stopping after every few words to catch her breath. “His little white dick is nothing compared to this.”
A few minutes later, I heard Willie announce that he was cumming. I heard them both groaning and then the voices gave way to silence.
About a half hour later, I was laying in bed, curled up and facing the window.
“Are you awake?” It was Isabelle’s voice. From the moonlight coming in through the windows, I could see her pregnant form standing at the bedroom door, wearing nothing but a white slip. I told her to come in.
“You know, Mason,” she whispered, sitting down on the side of the bed. “I only dated Willie because I thought you were dead. I wanted a family and so did he. I always loved you.” She ran a hand through my hair. “I still love you.”
I leaned in to kiss her and she responded strongly, kissing me passionately. For years I had dreamed of making love again to Isabelle and now it was happening. My hands ran all over her sexy body. Although she was in her third trimester, I was incredibly turned on by her. I took off her slip and put my face between her legs. Her cunt was wet and sticky, coated with Willie’s semen, and I eagerly sucked and licked up every drop of his juices. Then I mounted her and we made sweet love.
That was two years ago. A few months later, after Isabelle gave birth to her daughter and they tied her tubes, she told Willie that she was still in love with me and that we were getting back together. Willie was furious at first and there were some legal issues, but in the end Willie agreed to let Isabelle and I keep the children as long as we let him keep the house and agreed that he didn’t have to pay any child support. Willie already has a new girlfriend. From what we’ve heard, he’s madly in love with her and she’s pregnant with his child, so we’ve all moved on. It’s a happy ending for everybody!
UNEXPECTED BLACK BABY
By Polly Andrea Busch
Copyright 2016 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 husband Anthony and I are in our late twenties and we’d been trying to have children for years. We finally went to a fertility clinic and learned that Anthony had a low sperm count. We decided to use in vitro fertilization (IVF) to get pregnant.
Anthony was ecstatic when the nurse doing the sonogram told us we were having a baby girl. In the delivery room, Anthony acted strange when he cut the cord. When the baby was handed to me, I realized why – our baby was black.
“Maya,” my husband said sharply, “is there something you need to tell me?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I replied. “I wasn’t sleeping with anybody else. The fertility clinic must have made a mistake.”
Sure enough, we found out that the clinic had made a huge mistake. They used the sperm of Montrezl Williams, a black m
an who was also a client of the clinic. Not only did I have a mulatto child, but there was a black couple that had given birth to twins. All three of the babies had my egg and the black husband’s sperm. Anthony and I decided that we should meet the other couple so that the siblings could get to know each other.
A few months later, we met Montrezl and Tammy at a nice restaurant downtown. I was impressed to learn that Montrezl is a medical doctor and that Tammy is a model. Tammy, we learned, wasn’t able to have her own children and they were using a donor egg. Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be my egg but a friend of hers who had agreed to help them. As we talked, I was happy to learn that our daughter’s father wasn’t only highly intelligent but very handsome and well-spoken as well. As we spoke over dinner, I found him to be incredibly sexy and I could tell by the way that he was looking at me that the feeling was mutual. We discussed a plan to have play dates at least once a month so that they could grow up knowing their siblings.
When we left the restaurant, Montrezl slipped me his business card. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he said. “I’m happy that you’re the mother of my three children. I’d like to have more with you. Let’s talk about it.” Then he leaned in, put his hands on my ass and kissed me. As he did, I felt the huge bulge in his pants. He clearly had a large cock.
A moment later, Tammy walked out of the restaurant and they got in their car and left. I was totally in shock. Anthony, who was inside paying the bill, walked up to me and asked what was wrong. I told him “nothing,” and we went home.
That night, while making love with my husband, I was thinking about Montrezl. While Anthony moved his little thing in and out of me, I fantasized about having a cock inside of me that’s large enough that I could truly feel it. I wanted that thick black anaconda that I felt through his pants. As always, Anthony finished with his a squirt of his infertile semen, and I was left unsatisfied. He fell asleep with me laying in bed, my loins on fire for the real father of my children.
The next day, I called to see if Montrezl was accepting any new patients. I learned that he was, so I signed up and set up an appointment to see him. Luckily, due to a cancellation, I was able to get in that week. When he stepped inside the room, he asked me what I was there for. I told him, “I’m here for you.” I began kissing him passionately. Then he locked the door and began to undress. In moments, we were both naked. And that’s when I saw his beautiful black cock. It had to be nine inches long, easily twice the size of my husband’s little thing, and quite girthy. I played with his balls and cock with my hands as we kissed, and I could feel him becoming rock hard. My pussy was soaking wet, eager for him. He laid me down on the table and mounted me.
It was so incredible feeling that mighty black cock penetrating me. It slowly worked its way in, stretching me open bit by bit, until it was finally fully inside. I felt completely full and it felt amazing. It was like a lock that had finally had the right key inserted. It was the perfect size for a woman, and my vagina was the perfect size for his cock, gripping it tightly like a wet, silky vice. My clit was hard and throbbing, and thanks to his girth, I could feel my clit rubbed and stimulated with every thrust. I felt the most amazing pleasure well up from my loins, then shooting up and down my spine, as I felt my first real orgasm. I was moaning in delight, even with Montrezl’s tongue dancing in my mouth. He put me through three more orgasms before he finally grunted and pushed inside balls deep. I could feel his black monster growing even larger and pulsing as his huge black balls filled my cunt with his baby batter. As we rode out our mutual orgasm, I knew that hundreds of millions of his virile sperm were now swimming inside of me, relentlessly searching for my eagerly awaiting egg.
When I got home, I wondered what I should tell Anthony. Eventually I sat him down and discussed the unusual situation that we were in, and how important it was that our daughter knows her siblings. Then I pointed out that it wouldn’t be right to give her a white half-sibling. I expressed my concern that he might treat the white sibling better, and that he might consider that child to be his only “real” child. After some serious discussions, we agreed that the right thing to do would be to have all of our children using Montrezl’s sperm.
Nine months later, I gave birth to a baby boy. I’m now five months pregnant with another boy. Aiden is working long hours at work to pay for our growing family and wants this to be the last one, but Montrezl wants to try for another girl. Something tells me that Montrezl will get his way. With a face and body like his, not to mention that big, wonderful cock, he always gets what he wants.
THE BLACK BULLS CLUB
By Polly Andrea Busch
Copyright 2016 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’m Gabriel. My wife Makayla and I are in our late twenties and we’ve been married for six years. Makayla is a looker, standing 5’6 with long blond hair, blue eyes and an hourglass figure.
Makayla had always been promiscuous. Her only long-term relationship lasted for four months and it ended because her boyfriend caught her cheating. Makayla confessed to me what happened with her ex-boyfriend. “I just don’t feel I could ever be monogamous,” she admitted. “It’s just not in me.”
After some long discussions, we agreed that she could date other guys as long as she’s open and honest with me about everything. And throughout our relationship, Makayla has dated other men. She had at least one side lover during most of our marriage, and most of the time she would rotate through three to five guys.
My wife didn’t neglect me in the bedroom, though. When she would come home from her dates, she would tell me everything that happened. Usually we would both make love at that point, as I enjoyed sloppy seconds.
A number of times while she was dating, we had a pregnancy scare. We talked about what would happen if one of her lovers impregnated her. Makayla was adamant that she would never get an abortion, and we agreed that a guy shouldn’t be responsible for child support just because he gave a wife some really good sex, especially if there is a husband around to raise the child. I’d always known there was a significant possibility that I might end up raising other men’s children as my own. Still, I was surprised when Makayla brought up her newest idea to me.
“What do you think?” She said, handing me the brochure.
It was an advertisement for “The Black Bulls Club.” It was officially a club for women who like dating black men and having their babies to meet and discuss their issues. But they also had a collection of black “counselors” available. It had all of the their vital information, including pictures of their huge equipment. There were twenty guys in the catalog, all menacing, heavily-muscled black guys with dark skin. They were charging $200 an hour for “counseling.”
“That’s a lot of money,” I said.
“We can afford it.” She put her arms around my waist. “I’ve been thinking about having a baby and I’d really like to have a black one.”
Although we weren’t sexually exclusive, nearly everybody we knew thought that we were a normal, monogamous couple. I conveyed my concern that if she had a black baby, everybody would know that she’s sleeping with other people.
“You seem very turned on by that,” she said, her right hand fondling my crotch. True enough, I was rock hard at the thought of her getting bred by a black stud and having a black baby, but I was still concerned. We talked further, though, and agreed that it might become
easier if we became an open about our lifestyle. I also agreed that I would raise a black baby as my own.
I discovered that Makayla had already picked out the black stud that she wanted to breed her. His name was Karl. According to the Club, he had successfully bred over thirty white wives. He was handsome, intelligent, educated and athletic – a great male specimen for breeding. He also was said to be an incredible lover, with a thick, ten-inch cock.
Makayla was eager to try him out. She went off the pill and began charting her cycles. She pinpointed when she would be ovulating. She moved her other lovers to safe times of the month, and reserved Karl for five straight days, all at or around her ovulation.
Makayla was in the bathroom, primping and brushing her hair when Karl arrived. She was wearing only a sexy new pair of bra and panties that she’s purchased at Victoria’s Secret beneath her robe. Karl showed up wearing a muscle shirt and jeans. I was surprised at just how big he was compared to me. I felt tiny compared to him, and more than a little intimidated. When Makayla came out and greeted him at the door, he just ignored me, grabbing my wife’s ass and kissed her. Makayla was rubbing her body up against his, no doubt eager to try out the huge cock that she’d been promised.
In the bedroom, they quickly removed their clothes. Karl’s ripped black physique was quite a contrast to Makayla’s soft white frame. She dropped to her knees and carefully took his huge semi-erect cock, gently cupping his balls as she began sucking it. An experienced cocksucker with many well-hung lovers in her past, she was able to take him deep inside. Karl was moaning in pleasure, holding my wife’s head in place as she greedily gobbled his thick, veiny beast. I walked over to Makayla’s drawer and found the tube of lubrication. I then sat down and started to stroke myself as I watched the action.
MY INSATIABLE WIFE: a sweet cuckold romance Page 151