Cumming on a Big Black Cock While My Husband Masturbates— Part 1

My face flushed hot with embarrassment, and then even more as he slid two fingers inside my pussy. I tried to be nonchalant, biting my lip to stifle a moan.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked.

“Are you not? I thought we were both into it,” David, my husband said, grinning sheepishly.

“I-I am, it’s just that I don’t want you to get hurt. I love you too much,” I replied.

“I love you too, that’s why I want this. I want you to get the fucking of your life. You deserve to be fulfilled, Alicia,” he said.

It had taken months of dancing around the subject before either of us had been able to admit that we were unsatisfied with our sex life. Then, more months still before we admitted that we wanted something different. Eventually, over dinner, David blurted out that he wanted to watch me fuck another man. Even then, it wasn’t until we started watching cuckolding porn together that he admitted he wanted it to be a well-hung black man. It was incredible that he wanted the same thing I did, and so brave of him to say it aloud when I couldn’t. After that night, I think loved my husband even more. That’s when I really knew without any doubt that we were meant to be together.

“Alright. When are we meeting him?”

“Friday night, at the Fairytale,” he replied.

“Awesome, I’ll need a few drinks first anyway.”

“You’ll need a new dress too. He specifically requested a short, red one.”

“Oh? Did he request anything else?” I asked in a breathy voice, trying both to get into the spirit of things and to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah, he said to bring a permanent marker but he didn’t say why,” my husband responded, cocking an eyebrow at me.

“Can do. Oh and David?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you for doing this for me,” I said, then I kissed him nice and deep.

The rest of the week just crawled by agonizingly. All I could think about was our date and the huge step we were about to take together. I couldn’t believe we were finally going to do it. Before that conversation, I’d always thought of it as just a pillow-talk fantasy, something just to get us both in the mood. But David was serious, he actually wanted me to hook up with a hung black stud. Even more than that though, he wanted to watch. My husband of six years wanted to watch me get fucked by a huge, black cock.

I spent the rest of the week just waiting for David to back out, for him to be the man I married, the man who wouldn’t skinny-dip on our honeymoon, but he didn’t. He surprised me and if anything, he seemed to be even more excited than me.

On Thursday he took me dress shopping and we had a blast even if while I was trying on dresses, David was messaging the Bull. His name was Emmett but apparently, I was to call him “Sir”, “Master” or “Daddy” at all times. He requested to be obeyed by both David and me at all times during the date. We were also given a “safe word” to use if things went too far or if one of us became too uncomfortable.

My husband took pictures of me in all the different dresses we found, and Emmett picked the one he liked best. It was super tight, showed a lot of cleavage, and even more leg. It didn’t even reach halfway down my thighs. It wasn’t anything I’d ever have picked out for myself, and I loved it.

Grinning, I started toward the lingerie section intending to find something really sexy, but David stopped me and waved the phone scoldingly.

“He says you aren’t allowed to wear anything at all under the dress,” my husband said, his face flushing with excitement.

I faked an exasperated huff and changed direction to the makeup aisle. I picked out a sexy red lipstick, a nail polish that matched the lipstick, and some good mascara. I didn’t want to get any smudging when deepthroating Emmett’s huge cock.

Emmett’s last request was for David to find a single, small charm and buy it. It was a spade, like from a deck of cards. Our Bull said it meant something, but he’d tell me what after our date, if and only if, things went well.

On the drive home, I asked my husband to ask him what he was going to call me. I figured that if I was supposed to call him Daddy, I’d need a special name too. Emmet said I could pick something, as long as it was filthy. I thought about it for a while and by the time we got home, I’d chosen Slut. It was simple, guttural, and to the point, but it had a certain power to it.

That night, Emmett sent me pictures of his hard cock. I was looking at them when he called my husband on Facetime and he passed me the phone.

“Hey, Slut,” his deep baritone voice emanated from the phone’s speaker.

“Hey,” I said, suddenly out of breath.

“Hey what, Slut?” he growled.

“Hey, Daddy,” I corrected myself.

“Put me on speaker!”

I did as he commanded, and sat the phone down on the kitchen counter as David wrapped his hands around my waist, holding me tight.

“Did your husband show you the pictures I sent him?” Emmett asked.

“Yes, Daddy!”

“You like my cock, don’t you?” he asked wryly.

He knew I did, I could tell.

“I did, Daddy. Your dick is so big,” I gasped.

“That’s no dick. It’s a big, black cock,” he corrected in that same growling tone.

“Sorry, your black cock is huge and I can barely wait to feel it,” I whispered, my face flushing.

“You’re going to masturbate to the pictures I sent,” he demanded.

“Now?” I asked.

“Now!”

I looked back at my husband, my face hot from excitement and embarrassment at the same time. All of this was just so goddamn hot. It was totally taboo, totally unlike me, totally unlike us.

David was smiling broadly so I slipped one hand down my pajama pants and started on myself, staring intently at the picture of Emmett’s black cock. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have something that massive inside me. David and I had bought dildos, but we had been too embarrassed to get any of the really big ones.

“I can’t hear you,” Emmet said. “Moan for me, Slut.”

I did just as he asked. I dropped to my knees, pushed my fingers inside myself, and moaned loudly.

“David, take the phone and put the camera on her. I want to watch,” he said.

My husband took the phone and pointed it down at me. I looked up into the camera and bit my lip.

“That’s a good girl,” Emmett said calmly but commandingly. “Cum for me, you little white slut.”

I’d never been much for dirty talk, but there was something raw and powerful in this man’s voice that sent me over the edge. As Emmett kept talking, saying filthy things to me, I worked myself to an incredible orgasm staring at the picture of his hard cock. My body shuddered, I all but flooded my pajama pants, and my mouth let out an involuntary squeal.

“Good girl,” Emmett said in an amused tone. “See you two tomorrow night.”

He hung up suddenly and in the post-orgasm clarity, I started to wonder what I was doing. I had just masturbated over Facetime for a stranger. I was scared, terrified even, but more than anything I was excited. Something primal was awakening in me. A deeply buried, incredibly powerful force that demanded I get fucked, hard. I realized in that clarity that everything up to that point in my life had followed a pattern. I’d married my high-school sweetheart and moved into a great house, but all I wanted was to break out of this slump. I took David’s hands, kissed him on his sweet lips, and we went to bed beaming.

When we arrived at the Fairytale, on Saturday night, I was practically trembling. I grabbed onto my husband’s arm, but he was trembling as well. We walked in, grabbed a table in the back, and ordered some drinks. Half an hour later, Emmett walked in, wearing baggy blue jeans and a white T-shirt that showed his muscular arms and massive chest. Even in the dim bar light, I could see the outline of that huge cock through his jeans. I bit my lip reflexively, unable to stop staring at it as he strode through the room exuding an aura of unshakable confidence. He smiled at us as he approached and my pussy started gushing.

“You’re sure about this, man?” Emmett asked, shaking David’s hand.

“Definitely,” my husband replied, grinning.

Emmet turned his attention to me, taking my hand in both of his, and looked deep into my eyes. I almost immediately got lost in his deep green eyes.

“Alicia?” he asked, shaking me from my stupor.

“What?” I stammered.

“I asked if you were sure about this,” he said.

“God, yes!” I all but shouted.

His warm smile suddenly turned devious and his grip on my hand tightened and he raised one eyebrow at me. Then he guided my hand down to the crotch of his pants and placed it on his throbbing cock.

“Good,” he growled, then he winked at me.

He helped me out of my seat, sat down facing my husband, with his back to the rest of the bar, and then pulled me into his lap. I giggled like a schoolgirl when I landed in his lap, then gasped like a virgin when I felt his hardening cock against my thigh. He and David started talking about sports or something, but I couldn’t pay attention. Emmett was rubbing my thigh with his big, strong hands and I could feel my pussy was soaked.

“I can get us a hotel if you’d like,” I heard my husband say.

“A hotel could be fun,” Emmet responded, slipping his hand up my dress. “Don’t you think?”

“Fuck, yes! I like hotels,” I blurted out as his big fingers found my aching clit.

“Your little slut wife’s so wet, I’m not sure we’d make it all the way there though,” Emmett said. “She’d be riding my cock through my pants ever since we started talking.”

My face flushed hot with embarrassment, and then even more as he slid two fingers inside my pussy. I tried to be nonchalant, biting my lip to stifle a moan. My mind was filled with images of his big black cock. I thought about riding it in the back seat of our car while my husband drove us to the hotel. I looked at my husband, his eyes were studying my face in amazement. I could see how turned on he was too. He had to be thinking about that big, black cock hammering my tight little pussy. He and Emmett were still talking, but I couldn’t hear anything over my own pounding heartbeat.

“Do you have the marker, slut?” he asked in a gravelly tone.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered back.

“Go to the bathroom and write Black Owned on one of those incredible tits, then come back,” He commanded.

Standing up, I was suddenly self-conscious about how wet I was. I looked around the room, expecting to see everyone staring, but everyone was involved in their own conversations. I walked to the bathroom, stood in front of the mirror, and pulled my dress down, exposing my round breasts. I stared at myself for a long time before fishing the marker out of my purse.

I wrote what he told me to, on my right breast just where the dress barely covered it. Then I pulled the bottom of the dress up, turned around, and carefully scrawled “Filthy Slut” on my left asscheek. I looked at myself in the mirror for a while, smiling, then I adjusted my dress and walked back out. When I stepped back into the bar, I had the overwhelming sensation that everyone knew what I was up to. It felt like everyone was staring at me, and even though I knew they weren’t, I loved it and strode back to the table and sat back in Emmett’s lap, wiggling my ass against his cock as I did so. There was another round of drinks when I arrived, and I knocked a glass of vodka in one shot. I was ready. I was more ready than I had ever been for anything in my life. The waitress brought another shot and I knocked that one back too. Then I looked over at my adoring husband.

“David, sweetie?” I cooed.

“Ready to go, honey?” he asked.

I shook my head no and pulled down the front of my dress to show him what I’d written there. I watched his eyes go wide and his jaw drop. Emmett groped my breast, hard and I turned my attention to him, kissing him full and deep. I turned completely to straddle him, and he pulled up my dress and squeezed my ass. I could feel the eyes of the room turning towards me. I knew that my husband was staring at what I’d written on my ass. I realized that I’d written it as much for him as I had for myself.

“Daddy, can we go to the bathroom? I can’t wait any longer,” I moaned in Emmett’s ear.

“David, go to the bathroom. We’ll be right behind you,” Emmett said, straining to remain calm as I ground against him.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” David stammered, then he got up and hurried off.

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