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My Wife’s Fantasy - Bella Cooper Books - Medium

Damien Dsoul 8-10 minutes 10/15/2021

Even now, I can’t put my finger on the moment my wife ceased being mine. But I do recall the first time I took notice.

It was a Saturday in the second week of December, at my company’s end-of-the-year dinner party. I was chatting with Grossman, our chief executive who happened to be my immediate boss when I was stunned to find my wife Alice dancing with a tall hulk of a guy. I was busy reciting the company’s gross revenue estimates predicted for the upcoming year while appreciating the happiness in my wife as she and her dancing partner spun and frolicked across the dance floor.

When my boss was through talking to me, I went and hovered close to the dance floor, a glass of champagne in my hand, while I watched the two of them cavort. The way the young man held a hand to her back, drawing her towards him each time she seemed to drift away from his grasp was kind of intriguing — sexually. Even as I stood there watching them, in my mind’s eye, I could just as easily picture the two of them making love to each other. But besides that, the most surprising thing was that it’s been a long while since the last time I saw Alice in as happy a mood as she presently was. The past couple of months have been a kind of tug battle with me walking through a minefield, not knowing if whether I was the cause for her apparent unhappiness or not.

Yet here she was, dancing and smiling and laughing. And the manner in which she wrapped her arm over the guy’s shoulder, it was as if she too didn’t want the dancing to end; that she didn’t want anything to come between them at that moment. It was a good thing that I sipped my wine and went searching for any available company to be with.

Later that night, another most surprising thing happened, something that hadn’t happened in a long while. Alice jumped on top of me and we made love — with our clothes still on. I’d barely gotten myself free from the jacket of my tux when she pushed me on the bed, undid my trouser buckle and flung it across the room before attacking the semi-erection I had stuck in my shorts. She sucked my cock with vigour, her head bouncing down hard with rapid succession as she swallowed me whole. I could do nothing except press her head down on my cock, breathing hard and deep at what she was doing to me.

When she was through, she pulled her panties from underneath her skirt and came and straddled me; her hand went to the back of her hair and pulled off the pin that held it, letting everything drop to her shoulder. She went on cursing me, calling me silly names while at the same time bouncing down hard on me.

“Such a tiny cock you have,” she muttered at me, moaning at the same time. “Oh, yeah . . . very tiny cock you have . . . Uhhh . . . but I love fucking it! Go ahead and fuck me with me with that silly tiny cock you have!”

Words I’d never heard her utter before, let alone believe she would ever say, spewed from her mouth. I can’t tell you how exciting it was just hearing her talk like that like only a wretched slut would. She yelled at me to push up her skirt and smack her ass; I did exactly that. I went on smacking her ass, loving the sound of her voice as she screamed for me to smack her harder and harder, while she rode me harder and harder. I felt myself shoot inside of her, taking both the wind and breath out of my chest before she too soon reached her climax and slumped down on me. We lay there hugging each other, gasping for breath, for what seemed like a long time before we finally fell asleep.

That night was the beginning of a new chapter for both of us. Something indeed had taken over her, but whatever it was, I couldn’t say, nor had I ever once suspected such a happening would arise. But to say that I wasn’t grateful for the newfound spirit in her would have been a lie, for truly I was.

It wasn’t until the next couple of days that I got the bold mind as to inquire what was responsible for this new part of her. We had finished making love again — another energetic bout that, were it not for the fact that I was in my mid-forties, would undoubtedly have sent me into cardiac arrest — when I brought the question to her.

But instead of her answering the question, she threw a curveball and asked matter of factly: “Would it make you feel bad to ever find me in bed with a younger man? And not just any type of man, I mean a black stud with chiselled muscles and a huge cock between his legs. Would that at all make you mad?”

I decided best to thread with caution. “Is that what’s been getting you all fired up lately?”

She turned her face away for a moment, staring out the window at the front of our yard. I initially assumed my question had unnerved her and was about enquiring when she turned to face me.

“You remember Sharice Allson? That friend of mine whom I hooked up with at the gym?”

“Yeah, I do. I’ve played golf with her husband, George, several times. What about her?”

“She’s been dating someone — some black stud of a guy. That was what I thought she was up to at first, but then she described to me this group of black guys who belong to some club, and they call themselves the Tongue Patrol gang. She said she found out about them from some erotic magazine ad of sort. Ever heard of them before?”

I shook my head. The few magazines I often read have to do with financial news stuff; anything besides those was forgetful stuff.

“Anyway, she told of how one afternoon she went over to their building and got herself sort of registered and that a few days later, when George was out of town, they came over to her place and gave her some thorough fucking. The kind she said she hasn’t had in a long time, if ever.” Alice gave a wild chuckle at this revelation. “At first I said to her: ‘get out of here, Sharice.’ But then the day before we went off to that company party of yours, I stopped by her place, thinking that we would head off to the gym together, and you won’t believe it when I say this, but it’s true. One of those Tongue Patrol guys was fucking her right there in their living room.”

“No way,” I said, too stunned and flabbergasted by what she was telling me.

“Yes way,” she replied. “I too couldn’t believe it, but there it was happening before my eyes. I sat there and watched them go at it. I cannot explain it, but the longer I watched them, the hornier I got.”

“And Sharice was enjoying all of it?” I was intrigued to hear more.

“Oh yes she was, and the way that guy was fucking her, she was climbing the wall and screaming loud enough to bring the roof down,” she laughed, and I too joined her.

“You didn’t join in?”

“I almost wanted to . . . even now I kind of regret that I didn’t. But I sure got off watching them go at it. I tell you, it was weird and crazy. The way the guy lifted her from one sofa to another, fucking her like she was a deranged slut. At one point, the guy carried her upstairs to their bedroom; I went after them, not wanting to miss a thing. Sharice got him on the bed like this . . .” Alice pushed me to fall on my back and then mounted me. “Sharice grabbed the guy’s cock — and God, it was some mighty big fucking cock that guy had between his legs — she rubbed it over her pussy just like this . . .” Alice grabbed my cock and started rubbing the tip around her vulva, to which I responded by squirting pre-cum while I shivered all over. “And then, Sharice inserted his cock in and out, like this . . .” she let my cock slip into her warmness and then pulled it out, let it in, and then out again. She did it a couple more times, making me grow hungry with breathless anticipation. “Until finally she it slip all the way in. Aahhh . . .” and that was when she introduced me into her recess and began working her pelvic muscles until her pussy ingested me entirely.

We fucked like that until we both climaxed simultaneously. I lay there panting while she rested on top of me. I felt like I had just scaled the world’s highest peak and survived.

“You asked if I would be mad to find you in bed with a black guy, wasn’t that what you asked?” I gasped.

She nodded her head in response.

“I guess we can give it a try, if it’ll make you happy. You might as well contact these Tongue Patrol fellows. But on one condition.”

She lifted her head to look at me. “What?”

“I get to watch.”

She smiled and gave me a lengthy kiss.

And that was that. From that moment on, I knew that my wife would no longer completely be mine anymore. Though it was best this way — I couldn’t stand to lose her and never knowing how or what happened. I also knew that no matter how promiscuous she went, once everything was over, it was to my arms she would eventually return to. I would continue to be her home regardless of how distant she travelled.