“And natural?” she added as a question.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed.
“Anyway, most of the time I’m a natural dominant,” she revealed. “I’m that way at work and in my sex life.”
“So I see,” I playfully smiled.
“So with Dele, he’s my bitch.”
“Oh my,” I said.
“He knows he can’t completely sexually satisfy me, and he understands that I need real men with big cocks to please me sometimes,” she continued.
“Oh!”
She continued, “So back to your question. A cuckold is a man who willingly allows his wife to fuck other men, usually better endowed men, often black men, while he may or may not watch.”
“Oh,” I repeated, this being a ton of information to learn in one day, even more so from someone I’d met just hours ago.
“And the men usually get off on seeing their women properly satisfied,” she added. “These well-hung men do the job the husband can’t.”
“Which is?” I asked, still trying to process all this information.
“Get me off, sexually satisfy me,” she explained, before adding, “turn me into a babbling bimbo who will do anything for their cock and cum.”
“I can’t imagine,” I finally said.
“Oh, you ‘d be exactly the same, given the opportunity,” she said confidently.
“I don’t know,” I said, as I added, “I can’t imagine your ever being turned into a bimbo.”
“For black cock I’m a submissive fuck slut who will do anything I’m told, and I love it,” she said.
“Wow!” was all I could muster, unable to imagine her as anything but in control.
“Dele loves it too,” she added.
“I don’t even know what to say anymore,” I said, completely overwhelmed.
“Ken is the same,” she said.
“No way,” I argued. “Plus, he has a nice seven inch dick.” I proudly revealed.
“Which is impressive… for a white guy,” she agreed.
“For a white guy?” I questioned, even as I recalled her earlier black man reference.
” I only get fucked by black men now,” she answered. “I need at least nine inches to even come close to getting sexually satisfied.”
“Oh,” I said, before I added, “And your husband?”
” I usually fuck him ,” she responded with a wicked smile.
I didn’t understand at all what she meant.
Seeing my perplexed look, she added, “I peg him.”
“What’s that?” I asked, a second term I didn’t know.
“Can I be blunt?” she asked.
“You mean starting now?” I asked with a smile.
“Fair enough,” she laughed. “I fuck him with a strap-on,” she answered.
“In his ass?” I asked, even though there didn’t seem to be many options.
“Yeah, he squeals like a little bitch,” she said. The image of this small, barely five foot woman fucking her burly taller-than-six-foot husband seemed impossible. Yet, as I was learning, she was a pretty dominant person.
” Wow!” I said.
“You’ve got to try it,” she said. “It’s very empowering.”
“I can’t fathom Ken wanting to do that,” I said, even as I wasn’t sure I would want to do it either.
She said, putting her hand on my leg, “Oh trust me, he’d definitely be your bitch if you took control.”
“He is the one in charge in the bedroom,” I admitted, her hand on my leg distracting me , even though she wasn’t doing anything.
“Trust me,” she said. “White men are almost always naturally submissive. But they were brought up being measured against a manly stereotype they can never truly live up to.”
“Ken does ,” I said, not seeing the correlation between her treatment of her husband and Ken.
“He does the best he can,” she agreed, her hand still on my leg.
“He’s great in bed,” I decided to clarify.
” I’m sure you think he is,” she said, before stressing, “but such opinions are dependent on experience.”
“I’m happy with my sex life,” I clarified, now somehow feeling my sex life was on trial. She was the prosecutor and I the defendant. Unfortunately she was a trained litigator and I was just a pharmacist.
She said, ” I’m sure you are, but haven’t you ever wondered what you’re missing? Have you not ever fantasized about banging someone else?”
“Sure,” I admitted, “but who hasn’t?”
“Oh, everyone fantasises, but only the brave, honest to themselves, people actually do anything about it.”
“That’s cheating,” I pointed out, something I would never do.
“It’s only cheating if your spouse doesn’t approve,” she countered.
“No way would Ken approve,” I stated.
“Don’t be so sure,” she said, giving my leg a squeeze as she stood up. “Most men will do anything to make their women sexually satisfied, and once they understand they can only do that by allowing their woman to fuck a big black cock, they usually accept it.”
“No way,” I said.
“Trust me,” she said, before suggesting, leaving me in a whirlwind of shock, awe and bewilderment, “Let’s go see what the men are up to.”
“Uh, sure,” I agreed, oddly disappointed that whatever this had been was apparently over and I was left with way more questions than answers.
So we headed to the basement where the guys were watching sports. Oddly, I couldn’t explain it, but they both looked guilty… yet, I had no idea why I felt like that.
An hour later as we started driving home, I did something I hadn’t done in years, I fished out Ken’s cock and sucked him while he drove.
“Oh my,” he moaned, as I got his cock hard.
I’d been bobbing for a couple of minutes when we arrived in the garage. I said, as we got out of the car, “Fuck me, right now.”
“Here in the garage?” he asked.
“Yes,” I demanded, removing my panties and stuffing them in my purse before bending over his work table.
“With the babysitter in the house?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes, now hurry up and fuck me,” I demanded, horny as hell, flipping up my skirt to offer him my pussy.
“What has gotten into you?” he asked, as he moved behind me.
“Can’t I want a big dick in me?” I asked.
“That you may,” he agreed, as he easily slid his cock inside my wet pussy.
“Oh yes, pound me baby,” I moaned, wanting to get fucked hard… Janna’s many revelations making me completely wet and wanting to prove her wrong.
I could be the initiator.
“God, we need to do this lots more,” he groaned, as he slammed into me hard.
“Agreed,” I moaned, my orgasm building quickly. Usually I only come from a tongue or a toy… this was exciting. “Now pound my pussy.”
“I already am,” he groaned, as he pumped his cock in and out of me.
“Harder,” I demanded, wondering for the first time ever what a bigger cock would feel like. I mean his seven inches had always been more than enough for me… but suddenly I wanted more, I wanted him to go deeper.
I wanted him to be bigger….
I wanted him to be thicker….
“I’ll fucking do it myself,” I said frustrated, as I began bouncing back on his cock, desperately trying to make the impossible possible .
I tried to make his dick go deeper.
I bounced back so aggressively that I pounded him out of me and he fell back onto the hood of the car.
He laughed, “That’s a new one,” not noticing how frustrated I was.
So horny and desperate to come, I sighed, as I moved to him resting on the hood of the car, backed up onto his stick shift and went for a ride.
I furiously rode his cock, hornier than I’d been in years, back during my college days.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned.
A couple minutes of furious bouncing and he grunted and shot his load in me. I kept riding him, close myself, but I couldn’t come.
Frustrated, I got off him, spun around, pushed him to the floor and shoved his head into my cunt, demanding, “Fucking get me off, buster!”
He obeyed, licking me as I realized he was probably eating his own cum from my pussy. Yet, I was so desperate to come, I didn’t care.
The wild day, the shocking revelations and my husband’s tongue finally had my orgasm erupting through me in seconds as I held his head deep into my cunt as I came and screamed, forgetting we were in the garage and the babysitter was in the house, “Yes , eat my cum!”
He kept licking me throughout my orgasm, until I let go and said, as I looked down at him, “We should probably get inside.”
He joked, “I just was.”
“And you will be again tonight,” I smiled, pulling him up and kissing him… tasting myself on his lips. I smiled, “I taste good.”
“That you do, ” he said, as he put his cock away.
Two hours later, in the bedroom, still horny, we fucked again. I demanded he ‘fuck the shit out of me,’ to ‘pound the hell out of me,’ and to ‘drill me!’ Yet no matter how hard he fucked me, I couldn’t come.
Once he did, he passed out and I ended up sneaking to the bathroom and finishing what he couldn’t with my vibrator as I imagined, at my climax, that it was a big black cock pounding me and giving me the orgasm my husband couldn’t.
I won’t bore you with the next day… but by the end of Monday my pussy was as bald as the day I was born and I have to admit it looked very inviting.
Later that evening, Janna called me and asked me to come over for dinner as Dele and Ken were both at work.
I agreed, excited about what else we might talk about.
Sunday had been a rejuvenating day for me, talking with three potential female friends and I was intrigued what else she may want to talk about. And still being new to this area, it was nice to have a female friend.
I arrived wearing the blue dress I’d worn that day at work and the same luxurious thigh high stockings from last night, somehow feeling like I should… even though I didn’t know why. I mean she’d definitely flirted with me excessively on Sunday, but we’d both been tipsy and even if she was interested in me, I wasn’t a lesbian… a bit of kissing, sometimes even passionate (which it was), something many women experimented with.
When I arrived, she was also still in her work clothes… a black business suit with a straight knee-length skirt. She greeted me with a hug and told me she was thrilled I could stop by for dinner.