I know it wasn't my husband Alan who put me in my present condition, but I hold him responsible. It was Alan who insisted that we take in a lodger to help with the mortgage and it was Alan who insisted on the lodger being a male.
Our lodger turned out to be a twenty year old foreign exchange student attending the local university from England named Jamal, who was black. It was also Alan who decided to have a vasectomy two years before following the birth of our second child; otherwise, I would have been on the pill.
It all started when Alan came dashing down the stairs one morning, blurting out, "God! You should have seen what I've just saw! He's the answer
to a nymphomaniac's prayers!" Alan went on to tell me that he'd just seen Jamal naked in the bathroom. Alan said that Jamal had the biggest cock he'd ever seen. "I bet he'd make you eyes water!" said Alan. "He'd have you on your knees begging for more." Little did Alan know just how prophetic he was.
Alan had often said how much he'd like to see me being fucked by another man. I'd never thought he was serious before and always laughed it off. Even though he never said, I think he was envisioning me fucking Jamal. However, when Alan said he'd get a pack of condoms to have handy, he had me worried.
I'm thirty-five with two children. We'd been married seven years; it was a
shotgun wedding. In that time, I could have given Alan his wish
many times, as I'd had lots of offers. I have nice long legs, and a
good figure (34C-25-34); my breast are still firm enough that I don't need to wear a bra; I have a full bush that is trimmed at the bikini line for swim suit season. I stand 5’4 with brown hair and brown eyes. Despite all temptations, I stayed faithful.
As the semester was coming to an end, Jamal enquired about hosting a party for a few of his friends to celebrate. Alan and I agreed. Alan took this as an opportunity to fulfill his fantasy. He hinted he wanted me to dress up for the party and see what happened. Against my better judgment, I allowed Alan to take me shopping where he bought me a tight, black, mini-skirt and a fancy white, practically see-through blouse. He also insisted on buying sheer, black-seamed stockings, tiny black briefs, and one of those fancy black garter belts. Then it was off to buy a pair of four inch, stiletto-heeled shoes. To complete the preparations, Alan stopped at the drugstore and bought a pack of condoms.
On the way home, Alan told me that he'd overheard Jamal on the phone telling one of his friends that “he wouldn't mind screwing his sexy landlady and described how he would love to have her long legs wrapped around his back”. Upon hearing that, my pussy tingled and my juices started to flow at the thought. The question then became, would I actually go through with this fantasy of his?
The party was a great success, and I really enjoyed the attention that the guys paid to me, much to the dismay of the young ladies in attendance.
Whether I walked or sat, my legs and tits were on constant display thanks to the outfit Alan had bought for me to wear. I was actually enjoying being the center of attention for all those handsome young men.
At the end of the evening, Alan offered to drive home those who lived furthest away. Alan whispered to me, "I'll stay away as long as you want, just leave the bedroom light on so I know he's with you. That way I won't disturb you while you're doing it. The rubbers are on the nightstand beside the bed. Don't forget them." Then he walked out, leaving me alone with Jamal. My mind was in a whirl, a combination of the couple glasses of wine I had had and the hot talk Alan had been feeding me about Jamal.
Jamal helped me tidy up, and then I went to my bedroom. Sure enough, there beside the bed was the pack of condoms with a note saying "Go on Jenny, enjoy yourself." That was my moment of truth. All kinds of thoughts were racing through my head as I picked up that little carton; could I make love to Jamal? Would I? What would it feel like having another man fuck me, and a black man at that! I'd heard all the usual stuff about the enormous size of black men's cocks. Was it true? I'd been faithful to Alan for seven years and only two other guy before we met; surely one little fling wouldn't hurt; after all, it was Alan who wanted me to commit adultery.
After much deliberation, I finally decided: No, I must remain faithful. It was a close call, and my body trembled with the thought of what might have been: Jamal between my legs with his gigantic cock deep in my pussy. I put the condoms away, sat on the bed, and began unbuttoning my blouse. I had so nearly succumbed to my husband's wishes.
Just then, Jamal knocked on the door. He had a very sad look on his face. I asked him what was wrong. He said his girlfriend had left with another man.
My motherly instincts took over. I had him sit on the bed beside me and I cuddled him close. That was my downfall. My mind was filled with all that Alan had said about Jamal's big cock; my pussy tingled, and I turned to jelly between my legs, flooding my panties with my love-juices. The heat of Jamal's body turned me on even more till I couldn’t resist it no more. I turned his face up to mine; putting my lips to his; pushing my tongue into his mouth.
Our lodger turned out to be a twenty year old foreign exchange student attending the local university from England named Jamal, who was black. It was also Alan who decided to have a vasectomy two years before following the birth of our second child; otherwise, I would have been on the pill.
It all started when Alan came dashing down the stairs one morning, blurting out, "God! You should have seen what I've just saw! He's the answer
to a nymphomaniac's prayers!" Alan went on to tell me that he'd just seen Jamal naked in the bathroom. Alan said that Jamal had the biggest cock he'd ever seen. "I bet he'd make you eyes water!" said Alan. "He'd have you on your knees begging for more." Little did Alan know just how prophetic he was.
Alan had often said how much he'd like to see me being fucked by another man. I'd never thought he was serious before and always laughed it off. Even though he never said, I think he was envisioning me fucking Jamal. However, when Alan said he'd get a pack of condoms to have handy, he had me worried.
I'm thirty-five with two children. We'd been married seven years; it was a
shotgun wedding. In that time, I could have given Alan his wish
many times, as I'd had lots of offers. I have nice long legs, and a
good figure (34C-25-34); my breast are still firm enough that I don't need to wear a bra; I have a full bush that is trimmed at the bikini line for swim suit season. I stand 5’4 with brown hair and brown eyes. Despite all temptations, I stayed faithful.
As the semester was coming to an end, Jamal enquired about hosting a party for a few of his friends to celebrate. Alan and I agreed. Alan took this as an opportunity to fulfill his fantasy. He hinted he wanted me to dress up for the party and see what happened. Against my better judgment, I allowed Alan to take me shopping where he bought me a tight, black, mini-skirt and a fancy white, practically see-through blouse. He also insisted on buying sheer, black-seamed stockings, tiny black briefs, and one of those fancy black garter belts. Then it was off to buy a pair of four inch, stiletto-heeled shoes. To complete the preparations, Alan stopped at the drugstore and bought a pack of condoms.
On the way home, Alan told me that he'd overheard Jamal on the phone telling one of his friends that “he wouldn't mind screwing his sexy landlady and described how he would love to have her long legs wrapped around his back”. Upon hearing that, my pussy tingled and my juices started to flow at the thought. The question then became, would I actually go through with this fantasy of his?
The party was a great success, and I really enjoyed the attention that the guys paid to me, much to the dismay of the young ladies in attendance.
Whether I walked or sat, my legs and tits were on constant display thanks to the outfit Alan had bought for me to wear. I was actually enjoying being the center of attention for all those handsome young men.
At the end of the evening, Alan offered to drive home those who lived furthest away. Alan whispered to me, "I'll stay away as long as you want, just leave the bedroom light on so I know he's with you. That way I won't disturb you while you're doing it. The rubbers are on the nightstand beside the bed. Don't forget them." Then he walked out, leaving me alone with Jamal. My mind was in a whirl, a combination of the couple glasses of wine I had had and the hot talk Alan had been feeding me about Jamal.
Jamal helped me tidy up, and then I went to my bedroom. Sure enough, there beside the bed was the pack of condoms with a note saying "Go on Jenny, enjoy yourself." That was my moment of truth. All kinds of thoughts were racing through my head as I picked up that little carton; could I make love to Jamal? Would I? What would it feel like having another man fuck me, and a black man at that! I'd heard all the usual stuff about the enormous size of black men's cocks. Was it true? I'd been faithful to Alan for seven years and only two other guy before we met; surely one little fling wouldn't hurt; after all, it was Alan who wanted me to commit adultery.
After much deliberation, I finally decided: No, I must remain faithful. It was a close call, and my body trembled with the thought of what might have been: Jamal between my legs with his gigantic cock deep in my pussy. I put the condoms away, sat on the bed, and began unbuttoning my blouse. I had so nearly succumbed to my husband's wishes.
Just then, Jamal knocked on the door. He had a very sad look on his face. I asked him what was wrong. He said his girlfriend had left with another man.
My motherly instincts took over. I had him sit on the bed beside me and I cuddled him close. That was my downfall. My mind was filled with all that Alan had said about Jamal's big cock; my pussy tingled, and I turned to jelly between my legs, flooding my panties with my love-juices. The heat of Jamal's body turned me on even more till I couldn’t resist it no more. I turned his face up to mine; putting my lips to his; pushing my tongue into his mouth.