When I was 39 I fell madly in love with a 24 year old Nigerian beauty who worked as my admin assistant. She was stunning - tall, thick wavy black hair, a tight butt, gorgeous face and an infectious personality and laugh. I was married to a nice but terribly straight, somewhat prudish women I'd known since I was 20. I was desperate to be let out of my cage to play the field. I was good looking, had business status and money. The classic situation. She also fell for me and we embarked on a year-long affair before it fell apart for all the usual, predictable reasons - I couldn't leave my family and kids, she wanted marriage, my career was self-destructing, I had a break down. Also, the sex ended up being boring.

I fantasised about how great and explosive it would be - she'd always boasted about how she's such a good fuck for guys, but it never was. Somehow, I was not dominant enough for her and she didn't respect me. It wasn't in me to be the kind of mean, bad guy she'd known until that point. She'd been used to black guys treating her as a piece of meat, hard doggy, mouth fucking, facials, misogynistic, etc. and she ended up teasing me more for not being up to it. She later regretted that and apologised - she really did love me. But we simply weren't 'made for each other', as we fantasised that we were.

About a year after we broke up, she rang me out of the blue to re-establish contact, as friends. I asked how she had been, got a new bf etc. She said that after we broke up she immediately went on a rampage to be used. "Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else" she told me. That hurt, but ... it got me interested in a perverse way. I asked how it was. She said to start with she took it like punishment, to remind her of who she was inside, not any upmarket white girl like my wife. That also hurt, but again, it struck a chord. Then she said that she met a few guys who she formed a good relationship with and they explored group sex. I got hard.

She went on to tell me how they regularly smoked dope on Fridays and weekends and she made herself available. I was lost for words and jealous - but turned on. As she progressed her story I ended up masturbating and cumming. She could tell and chuckled. I could tell she enjoyed my humiliation. She asked if I'd like to hear more some times. Yes.

So over the coming weeks I'd call her on Sundays or Mondays to ask how was her weekend. She avoided getting into the sex until, at her insistence, I asked her directly: "Did you fuck over the weekend?" .... "How many guys fucked you?" ..... "How did they fuck you?" ... "Did you enjoy it?" ... etc. As she retold all I was wanking hard. She'd ask me: "Are you rubbing it sweetheart? That's it rub it for Yetunde. Make it all that white cum spray for me. Mmmm I love cum. You should see when my guys let go on my face ..." That was enough. I'd spill it all everywhere. She used to ask for photos, which of course I sent.

From there we re-established a kind of loving relationship. She'd invite me to join in the gangbangs by phone - sound only. She'd give me a running commentary as they ravished her. How big their cocks were, how good they tasted. How full their balls were. How they always made her come. I would sometimes give her instructions and she'd relay them to her guys who would shout out to me how good her cunt felt.

We carried on like that for some years, until one day she met her husband to be. We both knew it had to end .... again.

She now has three lovely kids and leads a respectable 'white upper middle class' life. But I know and love the raunchy, black, sex mad slut underneath the façade.

Happy memories
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