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Cuckold husband - semi-fiction

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I am finishing my chores when Thorn rises from the sofa:
"Is the bathroom done yet?”
“Yes, just finished.”
“Good. I’m going to shower while you finish the kitchen and then you are to take me out dancing."
That might sound good, but she knows I can’t dance and don’t even like it. Still, nothing to be done about that. I get on with my work as she gets ready. I see her flit from the bathroom to the bedroom and back again a couple of times. Obviously unable to decide what to wear, she passes in varied stages of undress and I enjoy her monumental body. At almost 200 pounds (14 st) and aged 45, she truly is a wonder to observe.
In the end she comes through.
“How do I look?”
“Stunning,” I reply.
“Well yes, I know you’re going to say that, but…”
She has chosen a very light, red, yellow and white flowery summer dress which goes down below her knees and is maybe a bit tight. Still wet from the shower, the cloth sticks to her in parts and is rendered transparent. Her firm white flesh is presses against it. She has obviously decided to go braless and the large rosy nipples of her 46DD breasts test the fabric and its ability to conceal her nakedness, stretching it tight. I hope it will darken when it dries. She follows my gaze and smiles, rearranges her bust with one hand and at the same time pulls the neckline down still further, revealing at least 4 inches of cleavages.
“Better like that?” she challenges me to say otherwise.
She turns around. The damp fabric of the dress is sticking to her buttocks. She can’t possibly be thinking of going out without any panties! I am thinking whether I should ask when she lets me into her secret.
“I’m worried the string of this thong shows through. This dress has no black at all and I don’t have a thong in any other color”.
How is this possible? She has never worn thongs. Once I bought her one to try, absolutely obsessed with the idea of that buoyant, plump ass so much of my sex life rotated around in such a flimsy garment. But she said it was too uncomfortable and couldn’t stand the feel of the thread up her crack. It made her feel cheap.
Indeed, I can see the outline of that same thong she has refused to wear for 2 years.
“Yes, dear. It does show a bit.”
“Hmm, thought so. Oh well, you’ve always wanted me to wear this thing and I thought tonight I would give you the thrill, so it will just have to show a bit. Any objections?”
I know better than to contradict her.
Now, “take me dancing” means going to dance to a reggae bar in town where all the African immigrants, almost entirely male and most young, hang out at the weekend. We have been a couple of times before. The last time we went Thorn made a comment which has stuck in my mind ever since:
“I always find it strange that white men can ever think themselves equal to these guys. Black men are so obviously superior to white men in every respect. Physically there is no comparison, don’t you agree?”.
That night when we got back, I brought her off as I always do, with my tongue deep between her thick thighs, bringing her to orgasm on repeated occasions, unable to get the image of those sculptural black men from my mind. Finally, she was done and told me I could cum, adding with a wicked laugh:
“And you are to take me back to that place of these days. It certainly improves your performance! It does you good.”
Tonight is a hot night and when we arrive, there isn’t much action. We stand at the bar. With the music and the low lights, I think how wonderful Thorn looks and tell her so. She shimmies her body, giggling, fully aware that although covered, she is almost naked in the middle of a public place. The cloth of the dress is like an old linen shirt and probably won’t last more than another 3 or 4 goes. Her breasts, heavy like jugs, sway with her movement.
The place is starting to fill up. Groups of immigrant workers are strolling in and looking round to see who is in. The gorgeous Rubenesque woman with the white man is quite a draw for their libidinous gazes. And she knows it, she leans her head back and laughs flirtatiously as we chat, even though there is nothing to laugh at. With her back to the bar she rests her elbows on its surface, hunching her shoulders and pushing her breasts out heavily.
Soon a tall Senegalese man comes over and asks if we are having a good time. The question is obviously not directed at me and so Thorn alone answers.
“Good, but I think we’re going to have an even better one from now on, aren’t we darling?”
Dressed in a loose linen shirt and baggy African pants, he is about 25, tall, broad shouldered, muscular and as black as sin. He smiles at her without averting his gaze from her eyes. They hold each other’s stares for much longer than necessary and then break the stalemate with nervous laughter. They start chatting to each other, shouting into each other’s ears to compete with the music. His words are accompanied by generous arm movements and as they chat they draw closer to one another. I can’t hear a word of what is being said. She turns and tells me to invite him to a drink.
“Vodka,” she points a finger towards her sturdy black friend and herself to make sure I understand the command.
When I turn back with the drinks, he has his arm around her shoulder. They look at me, relieve me of the glasses and resume their conversation. He seems pleasant enough, but I can see his eyes darting down to her cleavage and finally he takes his arm off my wife and just stands there staring at her heaving breasts. She makes no attempt to stop him and smiles malevolently, fully aware that he is sizing her up as a sexual conquest.
“More drinks? You’re my husband’s guest tonight,” she giggles.
This time when I turn back with the drinks, his arm is round her waist. I have known all along that beneath her dress she is wearing practically nothing and now he does too! His hand drops a little to her hips, which are round and soft. The inside of his forearm must be across the top of her buttocks now! He continues talking into her ear, but meanwhile she is looking at me. She is staring hard, not so much in an interrogative manner but rather one of defiance. She neither smiles nor scowls. I see his huge hand gently kneading her flesh through the fabric. He is enjoying her softness, while all the time she stares at me and sways to the music, pushing compliantly against his huge palm.
At this, a friend of his comes over and catches his attention. He half turns, without releasing her from his big black hand, which is now wrapped around her hip, his fingers probing towards her crotch. For some stupid reason I am worried if she has shaved or left it natural with its thick bush of black hair. What will he find? God! I am watching a man whose hands are approaching the pussy of the woman I have been married to for 15 years and all I can think is whether he will approve of what he finds! I should be claiming her, telling him to leave the lady alone, but instead I am speechless and can do nothing. She is being retained by a huge black man who is brazenly holding her and palpitating her flesh with his fingertips, edging closer into forbidden areas. And she is doing nothing to stop him. I remember the thong! At that, and taking advantage of her brand new friend’s distraction, her own hand shoots out and clamps onto my crotch. Now, this could be seen as suggestive and flirtatious, playful. But no, she is squeezing just a little bit too tight and holding her grasp just a little bit too long. There is no joy on her face as she does it, but rather a stern look, more like a warning. Being held by a black man, she is wringing my tiny cock through my trousers and now she knows just how hard I am! Satisfied at last, she lets go, smiles and says,
“Hold the drinks, we’re going to dance.”
I am left at the bar as they head for the dancefloor and start to move to the lively rhythm, grinning like c***dren. But I think the guy in charge of music has his eye on them and chooses a track with a slower tempo, a more sensual song. Whether he has or not, I don’t know, but suddenly they are in each other’s arms and she is pushing her body into him. He now has those heavy braless breasts pressed hard against his body. He lowers his hands down her back until they reach her large, fat butt; the butt I’ve been licking for the last 15 years! I carry on drinking alone at the bar. Every now and then she looks over, but I am getting drunker and drunker, I can hardly stand. When I do look up, I can see them kissing passionately: I am lost! She is grinding up against his hard body. Her crotch is pushing hard. I know she can feel his huge virile cock beneath his trousers. Judging by the height of him, she must be feeling it hot on her belly through her dress. With that thin fabric it is as though she is naked already, he can feel all of her. His hands are huge and they are enjoying her flesh, kneading her buttocks and rubbing her up and down against him. At one point I notice that he is playing with the string of her thong, gripping it between his fingers and twiddling it playfully.
After a while she comes over,
“You are drunk! Good god! Don’t you know how to behave in public? Call a taxi and go home right now! You’re embarrassing me! I will be back later.”
I do as I am told. The apartment is quiet and lonely. I lay on our bed and try to wait for her. This is not right! She can’t treat me like this! When she gets back I will confront her! There is no way I can sleep. The anger won’t let me.
At about 8 am I hear the door to our apartment open. Here goes!
But then I hear voices. Great God! She has brought him back home! The thought immobilizes me once again. I remember how she clamped my cock and can’t help getting erect again!
They stumble into the bedroom,
“Woops,” she giggles. “I had forgotten about you!”
And she wheels him off to the spare room. I hear the bed spring as they fall on it and then a ruffling sound. There is a huge Senegalese man in the next room with the woman who only a couple of weeks ago confessed she found them to be superior males!
Then I hear her gasp,
“Wow baby!”
And I know she has just unleashed one of the largest cocks in the city. She laughs almost hysterically. Then all that can be heard are his moans.
I slip out of our bedroom and through the dark corridor. The spare room door is open and the light is on! The intruder is lying back on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor and his pants around his ankles. Thorn no longer has the dress on and I see her back as she kneels between his legs, the black thong string stretching tight up her fat butt. Her breasts are out and she is naked for a man she only met a couple of hours ago. What is worse, she has never sucked me off in her life! But now she has 8 inches of black fuckmeat between her lips, the ones I kiss and she can’t get enough! It’s somehow both painful and erotic to see her take another man’s cock in her mouth! He has his hand on her head and she is letting him push it down onto his shaft as though she had no choice! Our sex has always been about her pleasure, but here she is worshipping black cock! After about 5 minutes, she gets up. She cannot speak she is panting so hard.
As she peels down her panties, she looks over to the door and sees me there in my boxer shorts. She stares hard like she did in the bar and focuses her gaze on my crotch until I get my willy out and start stroking. She smiles
Slowly she turns her back on me once more and climbs on top of him, adjusting his thick dick, whose immensity I behold for the first time between my wife’s hands, into position at the entrance to her hairy cunt. She is shuddering now, the head of a cock which must be at least twice as big as mine about to penetrate her body and possess her. This must be the first time she has fucked a man in over ten years when she brought an end to penetrative sex with me, claiming that, given my inadequacies, she would prefer me to do oral on her from the on.
She looks back over her shoulder and looks inquiringly. Her stare is saying “Tell me you want me to fuck him! Jerk your little dick as he enters me!”
I nod acquiescently, “Yes I want you to fuck him, you are his!” I think.
She smiles and slowly lowers herself onto his thick black manhood, letting it all slide in slowly first time, it’s entire length. She has 8 inches of African cock pushing up inside her. She presses down against his balls for a moment, holding her position and then starts to lift with a heavy pant. Then she slides down again, gyrating her butt.
As she increases the rhythm, I cease to exist. She is in a frenzy! I am just a guy jerking his little willy as 2 hot people fuck like a****ls. She never wants to stop. She wants him pumping in her all day. She wants him to cum deep inside her! She wants to be filled forever.
After cumming, I leave them to it and go back to her bedroom to sleep. When I wake up, it is nearly dark again and there is no one home. They have been eating in the kitchen and there is a note on the table,
“Don’t wait up. Might be back later. Sort out the room and change the bed. The kitchen is in a bit of a state, so get that done too. You really are going to have to improve your performance.”

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