If you don't like fictional stories of cheating wives, going black - it'd probably be best to move along to another story. If this is your cup of tea, feel free to read on.
Wife Stories: Suelyn
Introduction
His hands, his big, strong, black hands. They slide up my body, holding my breasts while he kisses my neck. His huge, powerful, beautiful black cock is inside me. He stands behind me, slowly driving that perfect cock in and out of my body.
We’re in the shower, steam is everywhere. I’m moaning, cumming, going numb.
I gave my ass to him earlier. He took it, licked it, kissed it, then entered it. TJ drove his black cock as deep as he could inside me. Pass my rectum, into my colon, sliding and sliding further into my body.
I moan again, and flex my impressive glute muscles around his long shaft. I hear him moan in my ear. I love that sound, the sound of a black man moaning with pleasure; pleasure that my body, my ass, provides. It was built for them.
There’ve been so many. So many black men. Lawyers, doctors, athletes, thugs – all have taken me to bed, taken my pussy, taken the object meant for black men, my ass.
Oh yes, I feel him so deep inside me. I place my hand on my toned, flat stomach – I swear I can feel his cock in there, pushing and pushing, up into my intestines. I love it.
The one thing that would make this more perfect, wilder, and more pleasurable, is something I no longer have – a husband. If I were still married, this shower anal, love-making session would be even better.
The one thing I love more than black cock was cheating on my husband with them.
-1- How It Began
I married for money. I married for security. I married a rich, older, white businessman not long after I moved to Los Angeles.
Modeling paid off. I got more jobs, made a bit of money, got in with the right crowd. He couldn’t resist me. I’m tall, long, dark hair, light-brown, Puerto Rican – exotic.
He loved my accent. He loved it when I spoke Spanish while faking an orgasm during sex.
I loved how he bought me clothes, cars, jewelry. I loved how he showed me off to his hot shot friends. I loved his mansion, I loved the pool. I loved his money, but I didn’t love him.
My lust for black men was really quite random. There was no cliché story of a pool-boy, or friendly neighbor, or a drunken night of debauchery. I was bored and wanted real, pleasurable sex.
A wife of one my husband’s partners at the talent agency he ran, an older white woman, was sitting next to me at Lakers game. My husband, Preston, represented several of the players as their agent. No, I didn’t sleep with them, keeping them happy in other ways, while Preston worked to make them richer. It was far different.
The older rich woman next to me cheered for the Lakers. She was drunk. Before she was drinking, she was quiet.
“Look at him,” she whispered.
“Who?”
“Any of them,” she winked at me, referring to the black players. She looked around her, making sure her husband wasn’t around. “Imagine those big donkey dicks on them. Mmm, yummy!”
“Sounds like you know from experience,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“Honey, keep this between us, but I’ve been fucking black men for nearly 20 years,” she told me.
“I see,” I was skeptical of the drunk.
“You don’t believe me? Look, we all know Preston has you on his arm to make himself look good. A sexy, tall Latina or Spaniard or whatever the hell you are, makes him look even better amongst his peers. You could have any man you wanted. Tired of boring sex, take one of them ball players for a ride. You won’t regret it,” she explained.
I watched the rest of the game in silence. I didn’t seduce or try to get one of the black players that night. I didn’t want to risk getting caught by sleeping with my husband’s clients. But I did want to try a black man. I wanted to explore what the drunk woman was telling me.
If I was caught cheating, I’d lose everything. Luckily, my modeling job sent me to various locations away from Los Angeles.
Walking around naked in our backyard, dipping my foot in the pool, I sipped some wine while Preston passed out after five minutes of sex.
The neighbors were asleep. If they saw me, I didn’t care.
I thought about my travel schedule, thinking of where I’d be. New York, Miami, Chicago to name a few. I had a sister in Miami, perhaps she could have fun with me.
“Yes,” I said aloud. I would have a black man in each city. My husband would never know.
I went to bed and pleasured myself right next to his sleeping body. I’d be in New York in two weeks.
-2- New York
The photographer was black. There was a catch. He was sleeping with the other model. I could tell by how they looked at each other, how she smiled at the camera, exposed a little more of her cleavage than normal.
She was Venezuelan. Her name was Dolencia. She insisted I call her Dolly. She also had a very ample backside – one that was even juicier than mine.
The photoshoot ended, we stood there in our thongs, chatting idly. I saw her following the photographer with her eyes, making sure she knew where he was going.
I wanted his black cock in me, but it appears he was already claimed. I saw how he looked back at Dolly, grinning at her.
I played with my left hand, having left my wedding ring in my bag. None of them knew I was married, they never would.
I watched them, follow each other out. I grabbed my phone and snuck after them. They turned right down a hallway, I stayed not far behind.
Peeping around the corner, I saw them kiss, hold hands, trying to keep things secret. I’m assuming photographers sleeping with models was frowned upon at this agency.
They quickly ducked into an empty office. I tip toed down the hall. I stripped out of my thong and top, anticipating my next move. Creeping naked toward the office, I arrived. Luckily, the door was slightly cracked. I peeped in, watching them.
Dolly was on all fours on the desk. He was behind her, his face buried in her ass. I could see the pleasure on her face, how good it must felt to have this man lick her butt, no doubt sticking his tongue inside her. I wanted it. But what I wanted more was the massive black cock the photographer pulled out of his pants when he stepped back to undress. He let it rest on Dolly’s lower back. I made my move.
“Shit!” Dolly exclaimed. I ignored her, moving past her, straight to the photographer.
“What are you doing?” She cried.
“Taking this black cock. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you,” I winked at her. I grabbed his cock with both hands and brought it to my mouth.
“The first step. I’m a cheater now,” I thought. I engulfed his huge cockhead, moaning and swirling my tongue all around it. It was delicious. I felt no guilt, no remorse.
Dolly watched me sucking his big dick in shock from the desk. I never had one so big and juicy before. Preston was nothing compared to this monster.
“Mmmm, yes,” I said. I stood before him, Darius, I think his name was. I wanted him inside me.
I turned around, stuck my butt out for him to take. I looked over my shoulder and told him to fuck me.
I nearly climaxed as soon as his, as the drunk cheater from the basketball game said, donkey dick entered me. He slid it right up against my cervix and slapped my ass several times.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head. Finally, pleasure I was missing out on. Serves me right marrying for money.
The desk creaked and cracked in the office, he slapped my ass several more times as he fucked my married pussy. Oh how good and bad it felt at the same time. Poor Dolly just watched. I told her I would make it up to her and I did later that night.
I came over and over in the ten minutes Darius took me from behind. He was so big, so filling.
He came inside me. My pussy shook around his shaft, milking his black cock of its cum.
He slid out of me, grabbed his clothes. I told him my hotel room number, and off he went. Dolly was standing there, mouth hanging open from shock, angry at me.
I was smiling, catching my breath, my body tingling. I was going to enjoy this; I was going to enjoy how easy it’d be to cheat on Preston. A black man in all the cities I traveled and worked in. I could really love this lifestyle.
It was only just the beginning.
I sat up on the desk, turning to Dolly. She was glaring at me for stealing her cock. I hopped off the table and lunged at her. She was taken by surprise when I quickly pushed her onto the table.
“What are you doing?” she screamed, trying to kick me. I managed to grab her feet and flip her over to her tummy. I pulled her along the desk, her feet on the floor.
I dove right in. My face went to her ass, and I resumed what Darius started. I slapped and licked and kissed all over her juicy ass.
“Still horny?” I asked.
“Uh huh!” she cried out.
“I told you I’d make it up to you,” I dove back in, cheating on Preston with a woman now, just for the hell of it.
The only slight guilt I felt was robbing her of the black cock. Making it up to her was the right thing to do.
I rubbed her clit with one hand, gripped her big ass cheek with the other, and licked out her asshole with my tongue.
She climaxed within minutes.
I gave her my hotel room number next.
Her, Darius, and I had a threeway that night in my room. It lasted until dawn. Our slick, sweaty bodies, collided with one another, rubbing all over each other on the bed. When he came he filled our mouths with his cum.
Dolly and I ended up in the shower that morning, making out. We were planning that evening. We’d go clubbing with Darius.
******
It was one of the craziest nights of my life. Sucking black cock on the dance floor, fucking black cock in the bathroom, and afterward Dolly and I taking Darius and several of his friends back to my room.
It was an orgy, a gangbang, I was covered in sweat and cum. As each orgasm approached, I thought of my husband; so happy with his trophy, but never being able to please her.
The next morning I limped to the shower, stepping over sleeping bodies of black men. I was lathering up my ass, when Darius joined me.
He spun me around and did something – something that I now crave, something that TJ is doing to me right now in this shower. Darius shoved his big black dick into my anus.
My asshole burned as it was stretched. My cries echoing in the shower. Darius shushed me, whispering in my ear how my ass was made for black men. I agreed, I let him fuck me, to sodomize me.
My anus loosened and relaxed. Darius was soon slamming hard into me, his cock in deep. When he came, I felt his warm cum being injected into my body. I climaxed as soon as he did.
He pulled out, left the shower, and leaving me alone. I sat down in the shower, moaning, catching my breath. I reached to my asshole, and gathered up the semen that was flowing out of it. I never expected things to get this wild this quick.
I shrugged and licked my hand clean.
It felt so good. It felt so good to know I had a huge home, nice car, and money. All I had to do for sexual pleasure is travel.
-3- Chicago
Another orgasm just washed over me. Caused in part by TJ’s cock inside me, but also me recalling my first trip as a black cock cheater to Chicago.
I never felt any greater pleasure than being on my knees, naked, the diamond earrings Preston bought me swaying back and forth, the pearl necklace Preston bought me around my neck, and the new diamond studded belly button ring covered in my drool that dripped off the big cock I was sucking.
He was a thug.
He was a few years younger than me, 21 or 22. I met him at the club. I danced on him, moving my butt on his crotch. It knew it wouldn’t long before I was removing my pretty white, $1000 dress, courtesy of my husband, and working his big, black dick, like the cheating slut I was.
He smelled like weed and alcohol. He was rude. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. I loved it.
I was fucking gagging on that dick. Gagging, and deep-throating it, all to his commands.
“Suck dat dick, baby. Get my cum out, bitch. That’s it. That’s it. Work dat nigga dick. Yeah.”
When he filled my throat with cum, he wasn’t done. He was just getting started. I’m not sure how he did, but he bounced me up and down on his cock for hours, not cumming. He grit his teeth, wincing with either pain or pleasure, tearing my pussy up.
“Open that pretty mouth, just like that,” He said, setting me on my knees before him. “Ahhh yeah,” he moaned, squirting his seed all over my tongue. I licked it up, then cleaned his cock.
“You a good bitch, real good,” he said, grabbing his things. “That’s some good pussy.”
“Hey, you got $20 I can borrow?” he asked.
I probably would never see him again. I shook my head and gave him something better – my diamond earrings for him to sell. I’m sure Preston would buy me more.
******
The next night I experienced a basketball player. After the photo shoot, the agency treated us to a Bulls game. They were playing the Knicks. None of them were clients of my husband.
I saw my target, I made my move, and just like them making baskets on the court, scoring points, I scored a 6’10” Bull that night.
I made sure I was wearing my wedding ring when I was sucking that monster cock at my hotel room later.
He was so, incredibly huge. I licked everywhere. I licked his balls, his shaft, what little of his cock I fit in my mouth, on up to his abs, chest, mouth.
He couldn’t fit it all inside me. He was far too long. But working and sucking on that big fucking dick, I got it ready for my ass.
I was on top, guiding it in, further and further. It’d been a few weeks since New York, but I was able to make it work. Like I said, my ass was made for black cock.
When he was finally in all the way, I could’ve sworn my belly budged out.
I wondered if he’d pull my guts out when he slid his cock out me, or damage me in some way. Sex with my husband was so vanilla anyway, he’d never notice something was wrong back there.
I squatted up and down as best I could on this big cock. The hotel bed shook with impact.
He sat up, hands on my ass, and assisted me. My feet were on the mattress and I kept squatting and squatting. I wanted his cum in my belly. I wanted to feel it move through my body.
It didn’t take long for him to finish. That was fine with me, I was exhausted.
I climaxed when I felt his cock spray inside my gut, my colon. So deep, so filling, I loved it.
When he was done, I fell on top of him.
“Thanks,” He said. “My wife never lets me take her back there.”
“You’re welcome,” I kissed him. “Maybe you’re too long for her pussy too?”
“I am. She usually sucks me off.”
“Good idea,” I felt his cock decrease in size. There wouldn’t be any damage from pulling it out. When it slithered out of my ass, I licked down his body, down to his cock.
I cleaned it for him. I tasted my insides on it. I tasted his cum. It was heavenly.
“Your husband, how long you been running around on him?”
“Not long,” I answered, popping his cock out of my mouth. “But I will be for as long as possible.”
-4- Miami
My sister, Sandrah, about 10 years older than me, picked me up at the Miami airport.
“New bag?” she asked looking my newest, expensive accessory Preston bought me.
“Yes. Hey, listen,” I said switching to our native Spanish. “There something I need to talk with you about.”
“Sure, anything,” Sandrah looked concerned.
That night after dinner, we were in her bedroom. I watched her change into her pajama shorts, leaving her thong on. Her ass was very similar to mine – delicious.
“So what would you like to talk about?” she asked, sitting next to me on her bed.
“Preston.”
“I see.”
“I’ve been cheating on him. Every time I travel for work. This is my third trip here recently. And I’m hoping to continue the trend by finding someone to cheat with.”
Sandrah nodded, “Well then, you came to the right place.”
I watched her get off the bed, opening her bedroom blinds, letting the setting sun stream into the room.
“There’s just one issue,” She said, walking to me, standing before me.
My eyes opened with shock, when I watched her turn around, her pull her shorts down, followed by her thong.
“See this?” she asked, referring to her bare ass.
“I do.”
“This is only for black men. It’s made for them. Yours is too, Suelyn.”
I watched her bend over, pry her butt cheeks apart, and inches from my face, show me her puckered asshole.
My mouth dropped when she was able to flex it, causing it to open slightly. She must love anal as much as I do.
I grabbed her butt cheeks and moved in closer, watching her asshole pucker and flex, wondering if I could do this.
She interrupted my trance by standing straight up. She handed me a small booklet.
“See that? That’s my little black book. I have around 20 black men that I regularly sleep with. Usually one is here every night. Since you’re now cheating on Preston. Why not do it with black men?” Sandrah casually suggested.
“I can have five men here within the hour,” She added.
I smiled wickedly at her. I stood, undressed, ran my hand through my sister’s hair. “I think that’d be a great idea.”
What a wonderful coincidence.
******
About eight of her “boys”, as she called them, showed up an hour later.
They were a mixed bunch. Most where thuggy types, a few others were suave, handsome, black men. But one thing they all had in common was their love for pussy. When they found out I was married, a few of them complimented my big diamond ring.
I could see hunger in their eyes. The way they told me I was pretty, ordered me to sit next to them, run their fingers over my dress, through my dark hair.
I looked to Sandrah. She was already naked with one, sucking his cock. Another joined in, penetrating her from behind. I had no idea my older sister was such a lover of black men. I wasn’t either until boredom, mixed with a drunken comment at a basketball game, sent me down this path.
It was an ongoing event. All night they took turns with me. I was on the couch, butt high in the air for them, and they took me – each one going for nearly an hour.
They grew impatient as the night went on. I started working two black cocks at once, sucking which ever cock was in front of me, while another had my married pussy.
Two became four. I was bouncing up and down on one, sucking another, and jacking off two more.
A few hours later, we were all getting exhausted. One of them was taking me from behind. I completely forgot how much I loved have them deeply embedded in my ass.
With my left hand, wedding ring on display, I reached behind and pried my butt cheek apart, revealing my puckered asshole to him.
He grunted and laughed. He knew what I wanted.
“Let me nut on yo ass,” he said, after several minutes of taking me anally.
I nodded and he pulled out, letting his thick, heavy manhood rest on the crack of my ass. I moaned when that warm, tasty semen landed on my asscheeks. I smiled, loving the feeling, loving the sounds of a black man cumming on me.
When he was done, I made sure to use my left hand to rub his seed into my skin. I licked my hand clean, leaving a little bit of semen on my wedding ring.
I joined my sister in the shower. “I’ve never been happier,” I said, throwing my arms around her shoulders.
She squeezed and slapped my ass. “You should’nt have married for money. You knew that older rich man wanted you as a trophy.”
“Yes.”
She massaged my tired, butt and back in the shower. “You’re right,” I added. “If it were for love, perhaps I wouldn’t be cheating like this to get pleasure I need.”
“What are you going to do, sweetie?” She asked, going to her knees, lathering my ass up with body wash. “Because this thing, this ass of yours, is made for them. Just like mine.”
I smiled as she peppered my butt cheeks with kisses.
“Keep cheating. I may need your help. I may need you to let me indulge myself here,” I said.
Sandrah gave my butt a playful lick, then licked all the way up my spine. She turned me around in the shower and kissed my cheek. “Be careful. Also, know that if and when you get caught, like I did, you can still have black men.”
“I know. I’ll be careful.”
-5- Los Angeles
After another gangbang session at my sister’s, I did a photo shoot for work and left Miami. Not for the last time. I would visit there every few months, staying with Sandra, sleeping with many of the black men in her little black book.
When I was in New York I cheated. When I was in Chicago I cheated. I never cheated at home in Los Angeles. I was too scared to get caught. I was scared I’d lose my privileges. I lasted maybe a year.
As any woman addicted to something that gives them pleasure, as any woman who learned they are meant for black men, I eventually started cheating in Los Angeles.
It was only one man. He and I met up many times.
I recall working out at the gym. I was on a leg machine doing squats, working my body, working my booty, keeping it in shape for them. Up and down I’d squat, picturing a black dick below me. On a few occasions I snuck off the women’s locker room to masturbate. On this day I didn’t have to.
I knew he was watching me. They all do.
He was huge, a football player for the Raiders. I avoided him out of fear my husband, or the company my husband worked for, was his agent.
My desire to cheat, to have sex with a black man, was too great. It’d been several weeks since I was out of town for a photo shoot, getting fucked by one.
“Sup,” he said, behind me at the water fountain. I knew his eyes were on my ass.
“Hi,” I turned around, nodding to him.
“Hey, I know your husband.”
“Ah. Yeah, he’s an agent for Lakers, Raiders, stuff like that.”
“Yeah, sorry, but,” he lowered his voice. “He really screwed me and a fellow player over. We could’ve had $5 million more a year, but he screwed us out of that.”
“Um, ok,” I didn’t know how to respond.
“Just thought I’d tell you,” he said. He took his leave.
“Wait,” I called out to him.
“What?” he turned around, annoyed.
I purposefully dropped my keys. I bent over, giving him a view of my ass, taking my sweet time picking them up. Bent over, I smiled at him. He was nodding his head.
That’s all it took.
He was fucking me in the men’s locker room five minutes later. He was slapping my ass, pounding my pussy from behind. Several men came and went, embarrassed by the scene they witnessed, quickly leaving. We didn’t care. We kept going at it like animals.
I gave him my number when he was done. I pulled my tight yoga pants up, my pussy oozing cum, and we left.
The next we day we fucked in the parking lot, in his big Escalade.
A couple days later, in the gym, near closing time, for a quickie.
That weekend, I lied to Preston saying I was doing a photo shoot Saturday. I was in bed bumping my ass up against the football player’s chiseled, black body, working that dick of his until he filled me with cum.
The next weekend, Preston and I were out by the pool, sipping wine. When I was done, I kissed his forehead and told him I was seeing a coworker that night for a girl’s night. Another lie, another night of vigorous fucking from a huge, black football player.
It went on for months. There was no romantic love, only lust. I used my body to pleasure the both of us.
Then he got traded to the Eagles. It was over. In more ways than one.
One last night, one last round of sex. We did it in my bed, in my home, while Preston was supposed to be away.
I should’ve predicted I’d get caught. I should’ve known Preston would forget something and come back after leaving for the airport a few minutes earlier.
There I was, in our bed, on all fours, with a long, black cock embedded in my ass.
I was gripping the sheets, cumming from the anal stimulation. I turned to my right and saw Preston standing in the door way, nodding his head as though he knew I’d be like this – cheating, using him for money. I guess he knew that’s why I married him just like I knew he used me for a trophy.
We didn’t stop. He kept pounding my ass until he came inside it. When he pulled out, his cum was oozing out of me, onto our bed sheets.
He went to the shower, I joined him, making out with him in the steam, saying goodbye and thanks with my mouth on his.
He left and Preston was out by the pool, drinking a cocktail. I grabbed a bathrobe, and sat next to him.
“So. I guess I’ll pack my things,” I said. Preston nodded, not looking at me.
“I can stay with a friend,” I added.
“Yeah,” Preston sipped his drink.
I sighed and went inside to pack a small bag.
That night, before I left, Preston was on top of me fucking me one last time. He filled my pussy in minutes, then collapsed on top of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. It was a half-truth. He nodded, and rolled off me. I got dressed and left.
******
The divorce happened quickly. I got nothing, as I predicted. I only had my savings and things I owned. But I was comforted by words from my sister. Even if I got caught I could still have black men. I was made for it after all.
I stayed with a few model friends, we had sex with blacks and sometimes even with each for the fun of it. I still worked and traveled, still slept with black men in various cities. This time it wasn’t cheating.
I recently moved in with my family here on the east coast now. Sandrah is here. We’re all here and happy.
I still model occasionally, but not as often. I haven’t spoken to Preston since the night I apologized a few years ago. I’m guessing he’s still in LA, maybe even found himself a new trophy wife.
I’m on the bed now, TJ still sliding his cock in and out of my ass. I love the sound of him moaning deeply, grunting as he works.
Sandrah just got here. TJ pulls out of me and sits on the bed. I greet her at the door, with a hug and a kiss. I help her strip naked.
I slap her butt a few times and position it in front of TJ. Using both hands, I pry her cheeks apart, and guide it down to his waiting cock. It enters her ass, sliding past her rectal walls. I love that feeling. I can see by the expression on Sandrah’s face, she does too.
I take a break, sitting in the corner, sipping wine, watching my sister squat up and down on TJ’s cock.
If I ever marry again, I’ll be older, over 30, maybe close to 40. I’ll be for love, not money.
I smile, watching them go at it. Maybe I’ll find a nice black man to marry.
The end.
