17 comments/ 231555 views/ 24 favorites With My Husband's Permission By: Ellenryan At my husband's urging I have written an account of our first cuckolding experience. My husband Hugh likes to read such stories on the internet, and I have read a few myself. First I will tell you about us. We married when I was 21 and Hugh was 32. He had been married previously, and had two children who lived with their mother and stepfather. I always wanted children, but Hugh wanted to wait a couple years, so the only form of birth control we ever used was avoidance of sex on the days around my ovulation time. After a year or so we began to seriously try for a pregnancy. After over a year with no success I had a complete pelvic exam, but the doctor could find no problems. My husband had already fathered two children, but he had his sperm examined. He was told his sperm count was on the low side, but there were no problems detected. After about six years we concluded that we would never have children on our own. I did have missed periods three of four times, and my doctor told me a couple times that my egg had probably been fertilized, but the pregnancy had not been successful. That always gave me hope, but the hope gradually waned over the years. After we had been together about eight years my husband had a bad accident on his motorcycle, suffering injuries which caused a permanent limp. Gradually he seemed to lose interest in most activities, including sex. By the tenth year of our marriage we were having sex only a couple times a month. I wanted more, but nothing I could do seemed to arouse my husband. I had been working for a growing electronic business for a couple years when I was promoted to a secretarial position for our marketing manager. He was a handsome African American, married with two children; and he was going through a nasty divorce. He was not a very friendly person, and barked at me often. We kept our distance from each other, and I often thought about quitting. Well, after his divorce was final he gradually became nicer. Soon he began taking me occasionally to lunch. As our business was steadily increasing I would have to work late sometimes. When I did he always insisted on driving me home. When he took me to lunch we started sitting back in the corner, and we began holding hands. I don't know who started it, but I liked it. Often at work we managed to touch each other, and our conversations became more intimate, if you know what I mean. He was always such a gentleman, insisting on opening the door for me, and never sitting until I was seated. I think all those little things helped foster I desire to be touched by him, and each touch caused a little electric thrill in me. I had been Earl's secretary for almost a year when our office was moved upstairs in the same building. On the day we moved it took all day for the workers to move everything upstairs. After the busy day Earl took me to dinner, and afterward we returned to our new office. The movers had finished, and we had to dig out the material that Earl needed for his business trip the next day. When we reached our new office it was already dark outside, and before I could turn on the light Earl pulled me to him and held my hands. " I want to thank you for all the help you have been to me, and for coning back tonight to help out." He pulled me closer and kissed me on the forehead. "Let's look out at the city lights." he said, and w walked over to the window hand in hand. He stood behind me and put his arms around me. We stood there silently for a minute or so before he hugged me a little tighter. Then he tenderly kissed my ear while moving his hands up and cupped my breasts ever so lightly, as if waiting to see my reactions. He had never touched me there before, and it sent tingles of pleasure all through me. "You look so lovely, Ellen, I just can't help myself. I hope you are not angry," he said softly. His hands on my breasts felt so good, and I deliberately moved back against him. We stayed there for another minute in total silence. Then he turned me around. He had his arms around me and I put mine around him. I looked up, hoping for a kiss. As he pulled me tightly he gently gave me a fleeting kiss on my forehead. I wanted more. I stood on my toes and kissed him on the lips. In return he gently lifted me and returned my kiss. We remained in a tight embrace for several seconds. I could feel his sex organ pressing against my belly. I was getting very aroused. I was hoping for more, but he quickly released me. We worked for the next hour digging through the packing boxes before we departed. We held hands all the way to his car in the darkened basement. We squeezed hands and had another passionate kiss. After reaching my house he walked me to my door and talked with Hugh for a couple minutes before leaving. I remained excited, aroused and a little dizzy the rest of the evening. No man other than Hugh had kissed me since our marriage. A couple weeks later Earl asked me if I could help him buy and install drapes in a duplex he had recently purchased. I asked my husband if he thought it would be okay. "You talk so much about him, that I'm beginning to think there must be something going on between you two," he remarked. Then h smiled up at me and said that he had no objections, and that maybe it would be good for me to get out with someone else. I was so excited that I did not sleep very much the next two nights. I had long fantasized about having sex with Earl, and now that possibility could be more feasible. Earl picked me up Saturday, and he explained to my husband why he needed a woman to buy the drapes. My husband iterated that he thought it was a good idea. "Ger her out of my hair for a few hours," said Hugh. The duplex unit was bare, only containing rugs on the floor and two chairs Earl had brought for us to stand on. While doing all the measuring for the drapes and curtains Earl managed to arouse me by touching me so teasingly while I was standing on the chair. Our conversations at work had become more intimate since that night when we had kissed, and that day Earl remarked that he would like to see what things I had hidden under those clothes. I dared him to look, but he only smiled and said, "When I look I want to see everything, and I would not want to undress you on this dirty rug." After drapery shopping and a light lunch we returned to the duplex. In addition to the window supplies Hugh bought a new blanket and a pillow. I was curious, and I asked him about it. "I don't want you lying on that dirty rug in case we get real friendly," he smile as he gave me a quick kiss. We were able to install the custom drapes easily. Earl had to do most of the work, and I got to stand back and admire him. We did get in couple kisses. Earl had told me a few times that he was going to "take care of me good" after we finished our work. I did not know exactly what he had in mind, but I was hoping that it was sex. My husband was planning to cook dinner for us, and he called to find out when we would be finished. I let Earl talk to him. When we had the drapes and curtains up I went into the bathroom to wash up. When I came out Earl was standing at the door. Without a word he picked me up and carried me into the living room. He had spread the new blanket on the rug, and he gently placed me on it. He stood over me and quickly began removing his clothes. When he was down to his underwear he looked at me and said, "I have to go in and wash a little. You can get undressed and I'll be right out. Okay?" He knelt quickly, gave me a kiss and said, "We had a light lunch, so I am going to eat you for dessert." Another kiss and he was gone. I removed my outer clothing and waited for him. Earl returned in a few minutes carrying his underwear. I had mentally undressed him a hundred times, and he was just as handsome as I had pictured him. What a beautiful specimen of masculinity. Still staring at his wonderful body, I removed my bra. I was sitting there with my face almost touching his penis. What a beautiful sight! "Lay down," he ordered. "Let me remove your panties." I had worn my sheerest, briefest panty just for what I had hoped would happen. After he had my panty removed he kissed me there before hugging me wordlessly in a tight embrace, only kissing and hugging before he moved down and began suckling on my nipple. I played with his slightly kinky hair and felt his smooth backside. It felt so good. I wanted to feel his sex organ, but he remained in position where I could not reach him down there. He soon moved down and kissed my vulva and ran his tongue over it. I did not expect him to do that. I had been sweating all day, and I don't think that part of me smelled - or tasted - very nice. He had me so aroused and eager, that I wanted him to enter me. I had never been more eager for sex since before I was married to Hugh. I wanted him to fondle my genitals, especially my clitoris a lot more, but I did not get that. Suddenly Earl stood and said, " Oh boy, I almost forgot." He rushed out to the kitchen and returned with the drugstore sack. He pulled out a packet of condoms. "I remember you telling me that you thought women who have sex with strangers should always use condoms, so I will," he smiled. He tore off the wrapper and proceeded to put it on his penis. It was fascinating to watch. I had never seen a man put on a condom, and I had never had sex with a man using one. It had a nipple on the end, and I realized that it was there to hold the semen. It did look so funny sticking out like that. I don't think Earl wanted me to help him find the spot, but he was jabbing around me so much that I took his organ and guided it to the right place. He was very gentle, and he kept all his body except his thighs off me. He felt so good. I felt like a virgin having sex for the first time. Earl had his climax much sooner than I liked. Just like my husband. He told me that he was sorry, but that he had not had any sex for almost a year. I guess that would be hard on a man accustomed to having sex a couple times a week. I sure did not complain. His penis felt very good inside me, and he did stay inside me much longer than Hugh ever did. Earl had promised my husband that we would be home by six o'clock, so we had to hurry. We did arrive on time, and my husband had prepared a nice meal. He likes to cook sometimes. I managed to change my very wet panties before we ate. I could not look my husband in the face. The feelings of guilt were getting the better of me. Was he aware of my perfidy? After dinner I cleaned up while the men played cribbage. My husband was glad to find someone who played that game, and I was happy to be alone with my thoughts. As soon as Earl drove away I had expected a barrage of questions from my husband. Thankfully they did not materialize. Somehow I had the impression that he knew I had sex with Earl that afternoon. I really don't know how I would have answered any intimate questions. I would have had to tell the truth. Although he did not ask any questions I was certain my husband would check me for sighs of sex activity. I deliberately did not shower before I went to bed. I had already discovered that Hugh had looked at my panties, because they were no longer in the exact position I had placed them. And I knew he would feel inside me. He did, too. He never said anything, but he did not have to. He did surprise me by having sex with me that evening. It was real good sex, too. I think he had a firmer erection than I had lt in a long time. I guess jealousy can have some positive qualities. One Monday morning a couple weeks later Earl returned from his regular Monday meeting with his boss to tell me some great news. Every year Hugh and the general manager attended the trade show in Las Vegas. That morning The boss had said that he could not go with Earl because of his wife's illness. His wife always went, too. The general manager had approved Hugh's suggestion that I be allowed to go to assist him. Two people were needed at our booth, and Earl had convinced his boss that it would be beneficial to have a woman with him, since so many of our clients were women. I called my husband immediately and told him, and I asked for his permission to attend. He wanted to talk with Earl first. Earl went into his office and he and Hugh talked for a long time. Later Hugh called me and told me it was alright with him. One of my jobs was to make travel arrangements for our employees, so I was familiar with the trip. I canceled the suite reservation for the general manager, but there were no other rooms available at that hotel. I was told to check with them upon arrival to see if they could find another room. That was fine with me, and Earl was glad to share his room with me if a room was still unavailable. My husband posed a lot of questions that evening about the forthcoming trip. "You talk so much about Earl that I think you are in love with him," he said. "I'll bet you are looking forward to having sex with him, aren't you?" I did not answer his question until he repeated it. "Well, he might not want to have sex with me." I countered. "You didn't answer my question." After another long pause I replied, "I think in the right circumstances I would like to try it - if he was eager for it. Most of us women are curious about black men's sexual prowess." That led to more questions. "Would you make him use condoms?" "I would sure want him to. I don't want to take any chances with disease. ... I don't think he could get me pregnant. You couldn't do it in all these years. I don't think any man can." "If he refuses to use a condom, will you refuse him?" Another long pause before I replied. "I just don't know. ... I guess I would probably have sex with him anyway. I think my curiosity would overcome any trepidations I may have." "Well, I am glad you are honest about it. Since there isn't much I can do about it, go ahead and enjoy yourself." The next night we again talked about my trip, and I sensed that Hugh actually wanted me to have sex with Earl. "I want you to have a good time, and I can't blame you if you want to have Earl play in your garden. just don't take off your panties for anyone else." On the plane trip Earl told me some startling news that gave me chills and also angered me. Earl told me that he was anxious to get me in a bed and not do it on a rug like the last time. "I am not using any condoms on this trip, either unless you really insist," he said, squeezing my hand. "Last time I did it on your husband's insistence, but no deals this time." When I asked him to explain he told me that after he told my husband why he wanted my help with those drapes and curtains Hugh asked a lot of questions. "Your husband asked me openly whether I had ever played with your pussy. I was really startled, but I answered truthfully that I never had touched you down there. Then he asked me if I wold if I could. I told him I sure would, but I would never try something like that. Well, your husband said you had hinted many times that you would like to have sex with me, and that he didn't mind if I 'screwed' you, but that I must use a condom or he would see that I got fired. Well, I decided to be a gentleman, so I bought those damn condoms. I hadn't used one since I was a teenager." Before this trip my husband had told him he could "screw the hell out of me," but he must use condoms. Earl told him that it was my decision to make, and he would respect my wishes. Next he asked me if I was going to make him use condoms. I only smiled and hugged him closely. As soon as we settled into our room and unpacked we had to go to the convention center to set up our booth. We did a little passionate kissing and fondling before leaving the room, but that was all. All our material had already been delivered, and we managed to unpack it before we broke off for dinner. Then back to the booth. It was almost midnight before we were back in our room. My desire for sex had cooled, and I had a raging headache. My shower did make me feel better, and I did enjoy Earl's gentle ministrations and explorations of my body. Earl was eager for sex, but he realized I could not reciprocate so much as I wanted. Instead of regular sex Earl cuddled up to me in the spoon position and we were soon joined by his turgid penis. I fell asleep joined to Earl. At some point before he removed his organ he ejaculated in me. I did not know it until I had to get up before dawn and I discovered the evidence leaking out of me. When I awakened in the morning I quickly shook Earl. It was after six, and w had to be at the convention center by eight. Earl was determined to "please" me, as he termed it. He was so gentle, and his exploring hands felt so good that I let him do what he wanted. The sex was very good, although I did not have an orgasm. Earl realized this, and he tried so very hard. After he had his ejaculation he managed to stay hard for a while longer. It felt very good, and I was so close to an orgasm. He wanted to bring me to an orgasm with his fingers, but it was getting late. It was so late we had no time for breakfast. Later we bough something at the convention center. It was not a fun morning. I had placed a panty liner in my panty, which I often do after sex with Hugh. Well, it was totally inadequate. I really leaked a lot, and I had to take some napkins from the food stand to stuff my panty. We were back in our room by eight o'clock. After some hugs and kisses we went down to the casino for an hour or so; then back to the room. We showered together at Earl's suggestion. We washed each other. For the first time I got a good look at Earl's sexual equipment. I got so excited looking and touching all of him, but especially his beautiful penis. I had only seen two other totally nude men, my dad and Hugh. Earl, like my husband had been circumcised, and it made his penis look a little funny to me. Where the skin had been cut away it was a smoky red color, but the rest of his shaft was very black. And I think his scrotum was even darker. When I washed his sex parts he got an erection, and he tried to put it in me. He lifted me and tried to slide me down on his very tumescent organ, but it hurt and he had to stop. He wanted to lube his organ with soap and try again, but I stopped him. I did not want any soap in there. It can be irritating. That night the sex was the best. Earl took a long time with his foreplay, vowing he was going to make sure I had an orgasm. Well, he tried very hard, and every thing he did felt very good. After he softened he used his tongue down there, and in less than a minute I had a roaring orgasm. I felt so good lying there with Earl, and he felt the same way. Soon he had another erection, and after a long good-night kiss he whispered in my ear, "Can I park my car in your garage again tonight, and go to sleep that way? I promise I won't dump a load in you." I raised my leg and helped him enter, and then I whispered. "Do anything you want. I am all yours. I have a towel here tonight." That night I awakened later, feeling Earl's potent organ gently moving inside me. Soon I felt the warmth of his semen when he ejaculated. I squeezed his hand to let him know I knew what he was doing. I was asleep before he withdrew from me. Friday evening we attended a banquet for the exhibitors. We were seated in a terrible place by the kitchen door, and behind a pillar. I think we were the last guests served. We were just ignored. I think it was because Earl was black and I was white. I also received many unfriendly glares from the men. There were a few other black men there, and at least one black couple. I think they were all treated better than us. We retreated to the sanctuary of our room as soon as we had eaten. We did stop in the casino for a drink. No one stared at us there. With My Husband's Permission? I had, like the previous three days, noticed him before he reached my door. And like all previous times, I pretended not to notice. "Hey again, Sandy, mind if I get another glass of water?" Turning to face him, I first smiled my answer and then confirmed it with words. "Of course not, hun. I'm surprised you can't get into the house." This was true. He'd been working on the house next door since my husband and I arrived last week for vacation. It was odd that he didn't have access to the place. "Ya, I know. My guess is that the guy thinks I'll steal some shit or something. I guess I'd worry too - it's not like he pays me a lot." He laughed, and his casual profanity was more cute than offensive. "Well, he should pay you more! You're doing a great job. And you definitely looks like you pay attention to detail." This was a casual comment, but he seemed to take it as an invitation. I watched as his eyes travel up and down my body. "I do, Sandy, I really do. Like I've noticed that your husband leaves every morning at 8:30 and doesn't come home until after 5." I was unnerved by this comment. "You've noticed that?" "Yes, I have. And it isn't even the most interesting thing that I've seen." Again, I watched as his eyes slowly travelled up and down my body. I tried to take control of the conversation. "Really? Have you noticed that I'm twice your age?" "I'm not interested in your age." I couldn't ask the obvious question because it was clear what he was interested in. "Maybe you should go now." "I don't want to, Sandy. Do you want me to leave?" I wasn't sure, so I gave him a non-answer. "I'm married." "I don't care." From his stare, I believed him. My response was true, but it left an opening. "But I should care." He stepped closer and whispered, "You should do what makes you happy." My heart was racing, but I did not back away. He reached down, took my hand in his, and whispered again. "Sandy, no one will ever know. Nobody." With my hand in his, our eyes locked on each other, we shared silence. "I'm getting back to work. If you want me, leave your door open tomorrow morning after your husband leaves." ========================== Dinner with my husband was pleasant, but quiet. He asked me what was on my mind, and I confessed to having too many different things going and I didn't know how to explain just one. "You know I get, hun. I'm just thinking." And I was. I was wondering what I should do. Well, I knew what I should do; I just wasn't sure what I would do. The evening was quiet, we went to bed at our normal time, but I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about him, about his toned body, about his confidence. I liked that he was so tall, and so muscular. His skin looked perfect, even the areas he had tattooed were sensual. He seemed demanding, and dominant, but was he honest? If I left that door open, would it remain a secret? And what would I regret more? Leaving the door open, or keeping it closed. I decided to keep it closed. But even then my sleep wasn't restful. ========================== When I woke, I felt confident in my decision. I got up, kissed my husband on his forehead, and took a quick shower. When I was done, we switched places. I put on my bathrobe, and went to make us breakfast. This was our normal dance. I would cook him eggs and prepare fruit and yogurt for myself. Breakfast was nice, and the coffee even nicer. I had 2 cups, which was rare for me. Still, though, I was quiet, but quietly confident in my decision. My husband noticed that I was lost in thought. "You still wrestling with your issues, Sandy?" "I guess I am. Sorry, I don't want to be a downer." "Oh, babe, you are never a downer! And you always know what to do. You'll work through these issues." "Thanks. You always know what to say." And this was true, my husband had a gift of knowing how to push me in the right direction. I've come to depend on it. He kept talking as he put his dishes in the sink. "Well, you always know what to do. So if you're having a tough time, Sandy, just remember this. Sometimes the world doesn't fit in our heads, and when it doesn't, we just have to open the door and let life take over." I couldn't believe what I just heard, but I knew in my heart he was right. Just a few minutes later, after brushing our teeth, we kissed at the front door. My husband dressed in his casual day work clothes, and me still in my bathrobe. "I'll see you tonight, babe. Have a great day, and don't take life so seriously." He kissed my cheek again, and I watched him walk to the car. I retreated into the house as he drove away, but I didn't close the door. ========================== "Don't move." I froze when I heard his voice, and I became nervous when I heard the door close. I felt his breath on my neck before he spoke again. "Good decision." I tried to turn to face him, but he didn't allow it. "Not yet, Sandy. This is what I want." And with that he began kissing my neck and ears, and running his strong hands along the length of my body. He pulled my bathrobe from me and let it fall to the floor, and the heat of his skin let me know he was shirtless. He never stopped kissing my neck, but when he pulled one hand from my body, I knew what he was doing. I saw him kick his shorts and underwear to the side. He whispered in my ear. "You're fucking hot, know that?" And when I moaned slightly, he grabbed a breast. Hard. "You like that? You like it rough?" I just moaned quietly again, as my body was completely aroused. "I knew you'd have fucking perfect tits." He squeezed hard again. "They're fucking huge, Sandy. You know that?" I grunted again, now lost in this crazy interaction. "On the table." I didn't fully understand, but it didn't matter -- he pushed me down on the kitchen table. "Look at that ass! You're so fucking hot." I didn't know what to expect, but I knew I didn't want it to stop. "Turn your head." I complied, after I turned my head to face him, he rested his left hand across my cheek and ear so I couldn't move. With his right hand he reached between my legs. "You're dripping. You're fucking dripping wet. You fucking need this." I gave into his probing completely, but his movements weren't the only things on my mind. Facing me was a very hard, very vascular penis. There were so many striking features. His length and girth were spectacular, and his testes -- large and heavy -- hung far below. But what amazed me was how wet it looked. When my husband gets very excited he sometimes produces a drop of precum. Three inches from my nose was a growing pool of it on the table. That's when I understood, he didn't want me, he needed me. "Fuck, Sandy, I can barely get two fingers into you. You're gonna fucking love this." But he didn't rush. He made love to me with his fingers, and only after I exploded with my first orgasm did he move from the side. "Pretty good, huh? You fucking loved that, didn't you?" "Yes! Yes!" And these were the first words I had spoken. "It's gonna get better." He moved behind me, and rubbed his penis against my opening. "You're ready for some real cock, Sandy, aren't you?" I didn't respond, and he kept teasing me. "Beg me, bitch. Beg me for some real cock." I held back. "It's ok," I heard him whisper, "you'll learn to beg." He pushed into me. I wasn't prepared for his size, so it was slow going at first. But he was relentless. Finally, thankfully, my body accepted his, and he began to take me. His thrusts were long and powerful, and steady. His pace, once he reached it, was constant. He was a machine, and I loved it. My body responded quickly to his, and as he promised, my orgasm was powerful. When it struck, he held me tight. I felt my body pulsating around his penis, which was deeper than any before. When I thought it was over, he brought me right back by stroking fingers across my clit. "You like that, don't you." I panted an unintelligible answer, but he knew the truth. "Now it's my turn." "Please be careful," I panted. "No," was all he said. And then he began to take me. He made love to me on that table with a pace and a force that was unimaginable. At first I tried to keep pace, but eventually gave up. My job was to hold on to the table, and let him take charge. I knew he was getting close, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him. What I didn't expect was my response. When he buried himself deep inside me and let out a scream, I felt the pressure of his release. His orgasm induced one of my own, and I rode him as hard as I could. We panted in place. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew what had just happened. I just had the most exciting sexual experience of my life. "Let go of the table. I'm going to roll you over." I complied. Now on my back, and facing him for the first time, I found him irresistible. Still inside me, he bent his body over mine to kiss me. After breaking our short, sweet embrace he looked me in the eyes. "I love you." I was shocked to hear it, and he didn't wait for a response. "Wrap your arms and legs around me and hold on." I did as I was told and he lifted me into the air. He carried me this way, with his penis still inside me, to my bedroom. He gently placed me on the bed, and stayed on top of me. "You have no idea how badly I needed that." He confessed between kisses. We lay on the bed as two lovers, gently kissing each other, and feeling each other's skin. "You're so beautiful, Sandy, you're just so beautiful." His body was exactly the same, but his demeanor was different. His words seemed to come from a different man. As the intensity of our kissing picked up, I noticed that another thing hadn't changed. He was still hard. It was almost imperceptible at first, but eventually a pattern emerged. He was beginning to make love to me again. And while the kitchen seemed so wonderful, but so wrong, this started feeling perfect. We engaged in a form of lovemaking that every human has enjoyed, that older couples are known for, that the religious might be limited to. I felt him reach parts of me I didn't know existed, and I felt I was reaching parts of him he didn't know existed. The words we shared, when we shared them, were familiar, loving. Our bodies matched each other's, and just before we came together, he lifted one of my legs to ensure that we couldn't get any closer. We simply kissed as he softened within me, and I think we were both sad to hear him whisper the words, "I have to go now." I stood by him as he dressed, and walked him to the door. It was not one of my more graceful moments, as we were both aware that evidence of our love was flowing from my body. "Sandy?" "Yes." "I'll see you at 3:30." And with that he left me alone in the kitchen, alone with my thoughts, and new memories. ========================== I was prepared for him when he came back, but not in the way he expected. Having had time to think, and feeling the intensity of the experience, I knew I had to end it already. "Hey, Sandy." "Hey, hun, we have to talk." "Sure, but can we do it in 10 minutes? I'm going to use your shower first." He walked right past me before I could stop him. Still, I could use the extra few minutes to prepare myself. He would just have to understand that this was a one-time thing. He called from the bedroom. "My God, girl, you make everything look great!" I knew he must have been flattering me, because I dressed for the breakup. An old concert tee-shirt and jean shorts is not exactly fashionable! "Get in here." I should have called him to the kitchen, but I followed his voice to the bedroom. He was naked. "You were awesome, Sandy. I loved every minute of this morning. You're probably having doubts, but I'm not. Sit on the bed." I complied. He moved in close, placed his hand on my head, and gently rocked his hips back and forth. His penis began to grow and swing from side to side, and I watched as he spoke. "I need all of you, Sandy. And I need it every day." His swinging brought his penis closer and closer to my lips, and the gentle tug of his hand made his intentions clear. "Look, I don't think ..." I wasn't able to finish my sentence as the head of his penis rested on my lips. "Sorry, Sandy, my mistake. Now what were you saying?" "I was trying to say ..." And then his penis interrupted me again. I looked up at him, and him down at me. I should have been furious, but I laughed. And when I did, he pushed his head into my mouth. He looked down at me and spoke. "I get what you want to say. But think about this. No one you have ever met wants you as badly as I do. No one. And your vacation will be over soon. You'll be gone, I'll be gone, no problem. But right now I have one problem. I fucking need you." He just paused and waited. He was very bold, but very honest. I started stroking him with one hand and then with both. I licked his head, licked his shaft, and then took him into my mouth. I wanted to be great for him. I cradled his balls in my fingers, then gently sucked on each, I stroked him with long strokes, I took him deep into my mouth. I did everything a woman could do to please a man. "Oh, fuck, baby I'm close. Does this excite you? Do you like feeling my cock in your mouth?" "Mmmmm." "Fuck -- that's so hot. Take those shorts off." I pulled from him. "Not now." "I said take those fucking shorts off and get that sweet ass on the bed. I'm never gonna want to cum in that gorgeous mouth what I can fill that perfect pussy." His word were rude, but honest. He loved me the way all biological creatures show love for their mates. He needed to be inside me. I lay back for him and he mounted me once more. My body was sore, but he was not to be denied. He extracted from me orgasm after orgasm, and then finally, with my calves on his shoulders, he came in me again. The passion of the moment was too real, and the truth too deep. I could speak only two words. "Thank you." With My Husband's Permission Saturday afternoon attendance dwindled, and we were able to pack up our exhibit quickly. By seven o'clock everything was ready to be hauled away. Earl took me to dinner at a place that was almost exclusively black. It was a new experience for me. I did not see any white couples there, but there were several white women with black men. I did not have to endure the stares we usually received at meal time. After dinner we moved to the dance area and we danced for an hour or so. Earl was not much of a dancer, and he seemed glad to have me dance with other men. I enjoyed dancing, and all the men were so friendly. It was a nice evening. Since we did not have to awaken so early Sunday we took our time retiring for the night. Earl was so sweet and loving. He does knows how to please a woman, and does it so completely. That had to be the best sex I have ever had. Earl made sure I was well satisfied in all ways. What a wonderful man. We always talked openly and intimately about our feelings and our relationship, but that last evening we discussed things that opened my eyes about black men. Earl had already told me that he had sexual relations with three other white women when he was in college, but now he told me more: "When I was in high school we guys used to talk and dream about having sex with the white girls, bu most of us never did. The goal for most of us was to make a white girl pregnant. Don't ask me why. I guess we just like to show that we can make black babies in white women. When I finally got to fuck white women in college I always had to use a condom. I am so glad I did not have to use them with you. I can't explain why, but being able to squirt my seed into you is a real turn-on. Even doing it while you are sleeping gives me such unbelievable feelings, and I am able to really unload so much. I am sorry to do it that way, bu it is so mind-boggling." Earl had "parked in my garage," as he termed it, every night, and that last night was no exception. I slept so soundly, probably due to the intense pleasure he had given me earlier, and I did not awaken that night. In the morning we did not have to get up so early so we lay in bed loving and talking for a long time. He told me that he really liked his nighttime ejaculations in me after I was asleep. "All sex with you is really the best, but those when you are asleep are especially good. I get to keep my 'plug' in you longer, and it keeps all those seeds from leaking out. I think that just thinking about the possibility that my seed could be doing its thing in you heightens the intense feelings." His words were scary, but I tried not to think about such things. Yet what he said did cause some unwanted chills and feelings in me. Heaven knows he did put a lot of seed in me, but I did not think all those tail-wagging swimmers would have any success in their search, but the thought did cause some emotional feelings that come from taboo thoughts. I tried not to think about pregnancy, but that subject always lingered in the background all during our affair. I hate to admit it, but that pregnancy fear undoubtedly enhanced all our sexual couplings. After a leisurely late breakfast we took our last shower together. Earl wanted to have sex with me again. He carried me back to our bed, but I kept my legs tightly together. No more fingers or other foreign objects were welcome down there. I told Earl that I did not want to take that airplane flight with his semen leaking out of me to add to the discomfort. Earl had hinted several times that he would like to have me give him oral sex. I do not care to have a penis in my mouth. I had done it a few times on my husband, but he always withdrew before he ejaculated. I can recall only one time when he spilled his semen on my mouth and face because he waited too long. I did not like it. Well, when Earl stood alongside the bed with his egregious erection and that pleading look he did not have to tell me what he wanted. Without a word I took his magnificent symbol of manhood into my mouth. I had mixed feelings about asking him not to ejaculate in my mouth. He was enjoying it so much, and he had given me oral sex a few times, that I did not say anything. It did take a long time, and although he had emptied himself in me a couple hours earlier he just kept squirting and squirting as I attempted to keep from swallowing that copious quantity of semen. I did manage to spit out most of it, but it is impossible to get all of that snotty stuff out. One interesting thing that I remember is that his semen had a garlic odor. Later I mentioned it to him. He recalled putting a lot of garlic sauce on his spaghetti at our Saturday supper. I guess that was the source. I wonder if such things like that do affect semen. Earl drove me home from the airport. He carried my things in and he had a chat with my husband while I was in the bathroom. They both did a lot of laughing, but as soon as I returned the talk ceased, but not the laughter. After Earl left the questions began. The first question of course was "how many times did he fuck you?" (My husband disputes that. He claims he asked me first if I had a good time). I answered most of his probing and intimate questions truthfully, but not all. I had to lie about a few things. I did not want to hurt my husband's ego too much. I had to go back to work the next day. I received many sly looks from my coworkers all day. I don't know what kind of rumors were flying, but I can imagine. No one at work actually asked me if I had sex with Earl, but I know some of the women were eager to hear some intimate details. I think most white women have entertained thoughts of having sex with a black man, and like to hear about such things from women who have experienced it. Earl and I had agreed to tell everyone that we stayed in different hotels. I don't know if anyone believed us, and I really did not care. We had so much office work to do that I had to work almost two hours extra that first day back. Earl drove me home. When he walked me to the door Hugh invited him in for coffee. I rushed into the bathroom, and when I came out I could hear them laughing. I heard Earl say "she really likes it." My husband said something, but I could not make it out. Next I heard Earl's reply: "I emptied my 'nuts' in her at least a dozen times. She really liked it." When I heard those words I cringed. I had told my husband that we had only had sex three times on that trip. I knew I was going to hear about that from my husband, and later I did. I admitted I had fibbed because I did not want to hurt his feelings by creating the impression I really liked all that sex. I had already calculated that Earl had probably inseminated me ten times, not over a dozen times as he had boasted. I told Hugh that four of those times he did it while I was asleep. One thing that so many of my coworkers mentioned that first week was that I looked so nice and fresh, and my demeanor was so much better. People who had thought I was rather aloof before now made so many favorable remarks. Everyone seemed to agree that the trip was just what I needed. I did feel real good, too. Even Hugh remarked about how much more radiant I was. I know Hugh was better in bed. We had sex the night I returned, and twice more within the next week. My period was due about two weeks after our return. My periods had been regular for several years. Well, no period. Coning back on the plane I dozed off and awakened with a sudden strange feeling that I was pregnant. After my period was a week late I knew I was pregnant. In the early years of our marriage I had missed a period a few times, and I remember that my doctor had told me that I had probably had my egg fertilized, but that the fertilize egg did not attach itself and start growing. I hoped that this was my problem this time. By the time my period was three weeks late I knew I was pregnant. I was planning to wait for my next period due date before doing anything, but I bought a test kit and it confirmed my fears. The next day I called my doctor and made an appointment for the next week. The next morning, a Saturday, I told my husband. We had already discussed the possibility, and I really think that Hugh was happy about it. He reiterated that if I had a baby by Earl that he would accept it as his. That morning he suggested that we could say that we paid for an in vitro fertilization, but that the doctor had mistakenly put a black man's sperm in the dish with my egg, and that Hugh's sperm had been used for the black man's wife. Such things have happened. I did not feel very good that weekend. I spotted a little Sunday evening, and I contemplated staying home Monday, but I went to work anyway. I had been at my desk for about an hour when I got the worst cramp and sharp pain in my abdomen that I had ever had. Hugh was away on a business trip, so I was alone. I practically crawled out into the main office area before I doubled over. Someone called 911. The paramedics correctly diagnosed that I was pregnant, and within 20 minutes I was in the hospital. When I awakened my husband was there with the doctor. "That sperm was sure anxious to attack your egg," said the doctor. "It didn't even wait for the egg to get into the tube. It hooked up with your egg right at the ovary." I learned more later. The doctor said it was very rare to have a tubal pregnancy at the ovary, but that is what had happened. The egg had started growing right there. My ovary had to be removed. Earl cut short his business trip and visited me the next day. When I told him what the doctor had said about that anxious sperm cell meeting my egg where it did he had an explanation. "I'll bet you didn't tell the doctor that it was a black man's sperm that did it. If you would have told him he would not have been so surprised. Most doctors know that black sperm are stronger, swim faster and live longer than white men's sperm." Maybe he is correct. I do not know about such things. Earl also offered his theory of how I became pregnant. He claimed that he impregnated me when he inseminated me while I was sleeping. "After I shot my seed into your pussy I kept my 'love muscle' in there so the seeds couldn't leak out. My seeds had a better shot to get up inside you." he told me that his wife got pregnant the same way. Maybe it did happen that way. Who knows? I returned to work the following week. The office was abuzz with rumors. I guess everyone there suspected that Earl was the father of my aborted pregnancy. I guess he was, but it could have been my husband. We did have sex the night I returned. Checking back, I had obviously been ovulating while I was with Earl. Well, I'll never know who did it, but it does not matter. I quit my job after another week. I just could not tolerate all the racist remarks and innuendos. And the following week Earl also quit. He told Hugh that he felt the pressure to resign, and he had a better job lined up with a competitor. If you care to comment, or you have questions, contact me via my profile.