Gone Black..and Back.

I wanted to touch on a subject that I have both avoided talking about at all here even in passing as well as with hubby in my recounting of my errant past.

It seems a fairly common theme in "hot wife blogs" and "cuckold blogs" and even in "infidelity blogs". The idea of taking cheating to 'trade up' ones sexual partner for someone of a more gifted endowment. This leads, I think naturally and disturbingly racially tinged to a discussion of BBC as it is called for Big Black Cock.

Now in general I don't think my pussy is particularly sensitive to skin tone as it doesn't have receptors for that, but....as more than one comedian has hinted, "If you are going to believe the stereotypes, believe it ALL!"

So I was surfing along and ran across this post on The Little White Cuckold about why one should seek out a black man as the ultimate in both fulfilling the fantasy and the reality of the whole cuckold experience. Although it seems a little over the top in tone, it probably would appeal to most cuckolds and their wives to have such an experience.

It pings away at out societal consciences on race, taboo, size and all the rest of it.

So would husband in his fevered imagination be able to be handle being cucked by a big black bull. I would think so. Would he prefer that? Hard to say..he isn't one to express racist views and I wonder if feeding the stereotype by feeding a big black cock into his willing white slut wife would seem a bit racial to him so I think it would be hard to articulate in those terms. If he caught a black client of his checking me out I think he would be just as turned on and maybe more so for the guilty racial tinge.

What about me? DO I dram of a timber-dicked ebony Mandingo to fuck? I am not a size-queen, but I wouldn't shy away from trying to accommodate a large cock regardless of the flavor. I just wouldn't seek out the large for large sake. So perhaps in the interest of non racist dalliance in interracial sexual exploits I should seek out an urban, articulate black man of average endowment to engage in a threesome with myself and say a red-headed Irishman who is hung like a horse.

So, do you want to know in purely racist terms, have I ever gone black? Have I ever wrapped my mouth around a purple-y soft head of a rigid black pole, while inhaling the uniquely sweet fragrance of smooth black skin?? Have I submitted like a bitch in heat on all fours as a black man stretch the lips of my tight, young white cunt to painful delight as he eased his big black cock past my resistance and lubed his shaft carefully in my slippery excited depths...Did I experience both shame and pride at the remembrance of the experience the next day as I felt the sore, satisfied feeling in my abused cunt as I shifted uncomfortably the next day at work in my snugger than they needed to be pants and felt his eyes on my ass as I counted back change to the customers/

Well yes, I did.

I have done a lot of slutty things in my past. Just a sampling:

• Every guys fantasy of the two girl BJ, and with my actual cousin as the second girl.
• Date-swapped guys with that same cousin several times
• Gave head to a "Dad" as he took me home from a babysitting job.
• Sex in the back row of a theater every way you can imagine, and more times than I can remember
• Sex with a completely random pick-up not even picked up by me but by a roommate that brought him home to fuck me on a study break, just because she could.
• Handjob in a Denny's
• Going off in a pickup with two guys and leaving them both with smiles on their faces.
• Sex in a sleeper cab with a trucker while my giggling friends waited at a rest-stop on a vacation trip
• Road head. In a convertible. In the daytime. In traffic.
• Giggling with friends at one of their brother's porno-stash, then acting out the lesbian scenes.
• Picked up by a girl as a present for her boyfriend and enjoyed them both.

Does my voyeuristic husband know about these? Yes each and every one of them in lurid detail. So why doesn't he know about me having a couple of drinks straight out of the bottle with my married, black boss after work and agreeing to go home with him?

Seems telling I omitted this story now that I think about it. I had mostly avoided married men, but that isn't the source of the omission I must admit. It is fun to have a kinky (pardon the pun ) dark secret, but we have so few at this point...

I think I hesitated early on mentioning it and then when quite a bit of time passed it seemed not having mentioned it gave it more significance than it had.

Thinking abou this I decided I am going to tell him every sordid detail and let him enjoy the same dirty guilty thrill I get when I think about it with a satisfied smile on my face. I have no idea how I will bring it up but I shall. Like today..Uh honey did I ever mention the time.... And no I'm not going to leave you hanging...here are the details forthwith:

Mr Black (I'll call him) was my boss at work. My job was to take the customer's money while they enjoyed (I noticed) the sight of my youngish boobs restrained by my uniform top issued to me by Mr. Black in a size perhaps a little small. No cleavage or anything it wasn't cut that way, but really snug. I kind a liked it.

We provided our own black slacks or skirt and I felt for consistancy, it should be similarly well fitted. I almost always wore pants. I toyed with the idea of wearing a shortish skirt, even tried it on and made a few turns in the mirror. Nice and slutty but I never wore it to work, just seemed a bit much.

I was quickly promoted to assistant manager working directly under Mr. Black (so to speak...Ha!) This pissed off the girls that had been there longer but was taken with a shrug by the boys. They tended not to work the front anyway and with the money being taken in next to Mr. Black's office it seemed logical that the assistant manager would also work the window. There is a lot of turnover there so, it wasn't long before I was accepted as deserving the position whatever my "ass"ets seemed to be suspected of being initially.

I had once teased Mr. Black about wanting the "hot girls" in view from his usually open door. He explained in all seriousness that customers come back if they think they have a chance to flirt with a cute girl. I asked him if we should flirt more he said, "Naw just be yourself. The boys will hover 'round no matter." He never did come on to me or the other girls and was always professional. He was proud of our location doing better than most of the companies other ones despite being in what was perceived as a less expensive mall.

I often stayed at the end and helped count the night's take. Never a flirt, never an objection if one of my friends waited or helped. He wasn't angling for anything it seemed. We all speculated amongst ourselves about whether he would or wouldn't and decide he's a guy he would if offered, but married and black, I think he was not going to risk a job or a marriage for some fluffy little piece of ass.

Until he did.

We were counting one night alone, and in hindsight he of course had thought about it, and planned an approach..maybe he wasn't ever going to use it, but he was ready. We were talking about a girl that had come to work pretty drunk and he had had to send her home. He was cool about that, he didn't tolerate being obviously high or stoned, but he wasn't harsh about it..He just said, "What you do on your time is your business, but be upright here."

I had told him I thought he was maybe a little lenient with her because her going home left us shorthanded. He explained that she was a good employee usually and this was a new thing for her, and he'd give it a week or two and see if she was just having a hard time right now. He was right it wasn;t like her and I made a mental note to talk to her and find out if she had home problems boyfriend problems or whatever...he admitted he doesn't like firing people but "It goes with the job." He had at times but usually for unapologetic tardiness. Come to think of it my management style is based a lot on things I observed him do. People liked working for him and tended to give him a pretty good effort as do my guys. (and girls)

Hey maybe there's a book in there..."All I needed to know about management I learned from fucking Big Black Cock.' I should get to the sex shouldn't I? Weird how even telling it here I am stalling a bit.

So we talked about drinking on the job, I admitted I had been a little drunk a couple of times when I had been drinking at the river before work. He kindly said it hadn't showed that he had noticed. He admitted he has a nip every now and then, but says the key is to decide what your limit is and stick to it. I was surprised. I had NEVER seen him anything but sharp and alert. I called him out.."Oh, right...you sneaking a forty when my back is turned with a customer."

With a wicked glint and a smile, he walked over to a file cabinet and pulled out a drawer and held up a fifth of something clear with red writing on the label. I covered my mouth in mock horror. "Mr. BLACK!" ..."Really?"

"You never know about people, girl.." he said...

I chewed that over and then said, "Can I have a shot?"

Long speculative look. "You gotta drive home. We are about done here."

I said, "I can handle one."

He shook his head and then said.."I could drive you I guess..."

He handed me the bottle and I took a good swig. "Whoa, watch it, that's strong stuff'"he warned... it was sweet and burned and left a sweet coolness of (peppermint?)

We talked and laughed and he had a small swig, I had another really small swig and was feeling pretty buzzed.

I said something about his wife starting to wonder if he didn't get home soon. He off-handly remarked that she is out of town this week.

"That opens up some possibilities" I said having trouble believing I said that out loud even with the help of the (schnapps?). Long speculative look..."You sure you want to be thinking like that, girl?"

I nodded and stood up.."We ought to get going" I said.

Without really saying much of anything we made small talk out to the lot, he held my door as I got into his car like it was a casual date with a friend. Older, well cared for American Behemoth. Plush seats felt sinful I thought. I almost expected a quickie in the parking lot and the thought of it made me sit extra still trying not to wriggle. More unremarkable banter on the way to his house.

Modest home, nicely and tastefully decorated had some Pier-One style world artifact decorations and rich tones...chocolate featured in the upholstery...smile...made me smile at the time.

"Like a drink?" he offered, and I accepted and tossed down another shot..In hindsight I think I was wanting the classic alcohol alibi. I hadn't been feeling the effects that much by the time we got there and certainly wasn't when I had made the decision I wanted to try him out ~No when I decided I wanted to FUCK him~, but I kind of which I had been dead sober, fueled only by slutty desire so that I would have had it more clear in my mind my motivations.

He was tender and attentive...we kissed on the couch. He was slow and patient...as if waiting for me to change my mind or hit a limit...I was vaguely aware that my hair smelled of popcorn and a little cigarette smoke (as you could smoke in the lobby in those days). He smelled of slightly sweet cologne as he always did with a subtle under-note of him even sweeter. I remember kissing his neck and tracing a tongue and thinking he actually tastes sweet, hard to describe exactly.

My blouse came off and he one handed my bra...lots of time and attention there...he said something flattering about them being as nice as he imagined...I filed that away wondering how much time he had spent on such imagining..I hoped a lot. It pleased me that I pleased him to look at, making work more enjoyable for him I thought, maybe. It occurred to me that the job for him probably had a lot of opportunities for such thoughts, with the young nubile bodied girls before and I was sure after me working there.

I unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his chest..and we cuddled and made out and he didn't push except the prodding I could feel when my hand would "accidentally" then obviously press into his lap...I figured he had lots more experience due to his age. He was probably 35ish which sure seemed to be the ancient wisdom to me. In hindsight my slutting around had probably given me more experience with the care and feeding of a cock, then he had with pussy, but you just never know about people as he said. I sensed him being deferential, and I don;t know now if it was that of a black man with a white girl who had been of age before the civil rights act, or because he was my boss, or because he was just gentle, but he waited me out. And won.

I reached down and gripped his cock through his pleated dress pants and jerked him a couple of times. I moved in front of him and knelt and undid his belt, then unzipped him and eased them down as he raised himself off the couch to help...I remember...stretchy nylon briefs...untying his black wingtip shoes....leaving on his paisley socks.

His cock was sideways in the those briefs, and sprang upright, nicely formed and as expected fairly large when I released it pulling the briefs below his balls. It seemed more real seeing his balls snug against the base of his cock. I don't know if they had risen tight like that anyway as they were held up by the waistband. I was slow and expressive in my attention...I really enjoyed both the way his skin tasted and the nearly reverential look on his face as I used my well-practiced skills learned from beta-max porn and many a willing partner. I was good at it and I knew it...

He was not the monster of mythological proportions that people talk about. I am not sure if he was in fact the largest man I was ever with a couple of others some to mind. One was a football player with a cock to match the size of his huge feet, and the other was a skinny guy with a cock that startled me when I accidentally saw it when he was changing byu the side of a truck on a river trip with a bunch of us. I had heard he was hung, and became a believer that day..I never fucked him but think I should have just for the tale.

So Mr. Blacks cock fit nicely in my mouth, a bit larger one does feel a little more wanton to a cock-gobbling slut. When you have to twist and contort a bit to avoid teeth and feeling it pressed against the back of your throat plugging your air is a nice, snug, well used feeling. I have since seen porn with some little girls mouth gagging on BBC as he forces her deeper by a handfull of hair and am a bit jealous. It wasn't in his nature but I picture Mr. Black fucking my throat with abandon in private reverie at times. Interestingly hubby does from time to time get a bit forceful about it when I finally convinced him I relished that treatment..I read on someones blog today about her hanging her head over the edge of the bed and I remembered many a times when hubby has forcefully fucked my face that way. I am sure I will tell him this ale astride him but it would be hot to print this out and have him read it while he face-fucks me.

At one point after a lot of appreciative mans and occasional involuntary slight thrusts and tightening of glutes and balls, he warned me..."Girl you keep that up, it's gonna go off!"

I actually re-doubled my efforts..I wanted to suck him off at the moment..I felt as slutty as ever, and wanted to be used as a slut...I also wanted to feel him in me...I was unsure...I teased and bobbed..content to leave it at a blowjob if that happened but ready for anything..

At some point when I paused he lifted me up and kissed me some more and said something complimentary about my skills, don't remember what but it wasn't "what a slutty, eager cocksucker you are" more like, "that felt amazing" sort of thing but he didn't talk like that..

He stood me up and stripped me...everything.

I remember a shiver when he slid my little cotton panties with the fake string ties on the side down..he was kissing my belly and my hip and stroked the side of my pussy with a thumb which opened like a flowers petals to his touch...

"You are really beautiful.." he breathed at the sight of me with parted legs, his face intent, he clearly meant the sight of my folds ass he parted them with his hands and tongue and nose and lips and teeth...he was really quite good at that, and I rose and bucked and rode and came..

I really got lost in the attention and loved it and it both seemed natural and at the same time unexpected when he kissed up my body and loomed over me his chest nearly to my face as he stroked my pussy with the tip of his cock which parted me as easily as his tongue and eased in surprisingly smoothly. He seemed to hold back a little as he tested and probed until he had buried it to the hilt it seemed..At some point he had my legs over his shoulders and his hands gripping my ass and it was a little too deep and I let out a gasp...he pulled back, but I groaned.."NO, DOn't stop!" He continued and it hurt but in a good way..I felt very stretched..it wasn't that he was huge, he was a little thicker and a little longer than I would say for example hubby is, but that little bit extra and the fact that I had been between boyfriends and one night stands for a little while and I could tell I was going to be sore.

The next day at work I was. I was also smiling a lot, and we never talked about it ever. He did say when I eventually moved on to a little better paying job that "We are going to miss you around here." and in a lower meaningful tone said, "I won't ever forget you, girl."

Makes me wonder if he has a facebook page..hmm he'd be 60ish? Probably still fit....hmmm