1 comments/ 58992 views/ 11 favorites The Newton Tenancy Agreement Ch. 01 By: dr_grippengrope When my second husband [Mike] and I had purchased our new home, we hadn't immediately settled on what to do with the suite over the garage. We didn't have enough stuff to waste the area on storage, but we didn't have time to set it up for a tenant at first. Finally after we settled into our house and discussed it at length we agreed to set up a suite and rent it out to a student or young adult. We put an ad on the bulletin board at the college and after seeing a couple of applicants, we had our new tenant, Omar. First, Mike is a 5'11" fairly athletic man in his late forties, nice sized cock and knows how to use it. He is the best I'd ever had until recently, and he loves me totally. I'm a 5'7" redhead with big hips that embarrass me but make my husband hard. Even though I had all my kids long ago (the youngest was 9 years earlier), I had been stretched by one 8½ pound girl, two 10 pound boys and one 10 ¾ Omar was a very dark, very sexy black man, about twenty years old. When he met Mike, he was very proper and polite, but when he met me, he was very friendly, almost familiar in his manner. He obviously liked me, and I was mesmerized by his aura of sensual charm, and his incredible body. He had lots of friends helping him move and was very friendly and confident. He had paid his rent in cash, and he seemed to have lots of video equipment, lights, screens, etc., and a full gym setup. Mike made the remark, "It looks like someone likes to document their playtime." Omar replied that what he did for money was work out for two four hour blocks, one in the morning and one in the evening; between he shot porn with 'inexperienced models' trying to break into the hotwife/slutwife interracial genre, specializing in—. He remembered I was standing there and tried to drive the conversation past this to other things. Mike looked at me strangely, barely containing a grin, and whispered something to Omar and made a gesture, holding his hand out in front of his stomach mimicking pregnancy. Omar grinned and nodded carefully. Mike chuckled and he and Omar did an odd handshake. He was trying to be sly and grinned at me, like he was insinuating something about me having a desire for Omar. I blushed. My husband and I had always had a running joke about me having a thing for black guys which I always denied, but when I looked at porn on the internet, it usually involved white women with black men. Let's face it, I had definitely noticed Omar. I couldn't help staring at him while he was moving in, and Mike noticed that Omar kept smiling at me. I think Mike knew I was going to be thinking about Omar a lot. We stayed out of the way while the stuff was moved in, but once Omar's friends all left, I went over to see how things were going, and Omar was very pleased to see me. He had no hesitation in putting his hands on me, very informally, almost making me feel instantly intimate with him. He still remained very proper with Mike, very remote and formal, almost aloof. I responded to Omar's closeness, the way he made it clear that he enjoyed my company. That night in bed, Mike and I discussed the new tenant, and he kept slipping little remarks in about whether I thought Omar was sexy, etc. I finally gave in and said he had a great body, muscular, everywhere. I added that he had nothing to worry about, that I'm married to the sexiest man alive. He deflected the hollow compliment and asked again whether I thought Omar was sexy, and wouldn't let me off the hook. Reaching down to start pulling his underwear off, I took the teasing to the hundredth power, whispering, "Mike, if I was single, he would be inside me right now. But I'm not single so you'll have to do. How does it feel knowing he wants to fuck me and I want him to fuck me so baaaaaaad? I can tell by the way he walks he has a GIANT cock. But I don't want condoms; I want him to shoot his big loads inside me, again and again, knocking up your little slutwife." This did him in and he was inside my burning, dripping pussy before I could do or say anything else, and we came together, as we sometimes do. There was lots of cuddling, kissing and caressing late into the night, and we had one of our rare two-in-one-night sessions. At first it had been the irresistible excitement, responding to a hot black man's obvious interest in bedding me. But the thought of Mike's vasectomy, my wish for kids, and the fantasy I'd just woven for my husband made it all feel so intense, so powerfully desirable that for the first time since I was old enough to understand such things, I began to imagine a possible reality that would result in me cheating on my husband, Omar being inside me, and then the final piece of the fantasy, him impregnating me. Every time I thought about this I wanted to run over to the garage and throw myself at him and beg him to cum inside me. This scared me and for some time I fought to control these 'obviously wrong' feelings. Then the fire got out of control when I imagined him cumming in me when I was ovulating. This one eventually took over, and I thought of almost nothing all day but carrying Omar's baby. I was obsessed with the details: from what to tell everyone to what to name it, whether to keep Omar in my life, what Mike would say or do... Eventually I had headaches from it, and Mike thought I had some physical ailment. He kept joking that I must have a tumor, etc. I told him it wasn't a tumor, just stress. My loving husband automatically led me to bed and began to give me a complete massage. He was very patient and worked slowly, tenderly, gently easing all the tension out of me. The effect I couldn't believe I was even considering any of this. Yet I found no way to fault the crazy logic I was using to condone what was the worst thing I could think of to do to my husband, even though he fantasized about it with me. Fantasy and actual infidelity are two different worlds. I felt so guilty, so irresponsible, but at the same time I couldn't stop thinking about it, planning it, rehearsing it in my mind, rehearsing it in my bed with Jamal--my black 11" dildo. That dildo had been the first test, although I hadn't known what I was doing at the time. I bought it in secret, but after a while, I wanted to see what hubby's reaction would be to it. I left my bedside drawer carelessly open with the dildo only partially hidden inside. That day, a Saturday, I found him in bed whacking himself off at 11:00 in the morning while I was cleaning up the house! I pretended to be angry, or at least shocked, but I noticed the drawer was closed and fought off my grin [I think]. I flashed my pussy at him, pulling open my puffy lips so he could look up my open pussy, dipped a finger in myself, and then turned and blew a sensuous kiss at him, leaving him to rub himself raw. In the second test I actually realized what I was doing, and while I felt it wasn't really going to amount to anything and that I wasn't really going to go through with it, I freed myself to let loose and test the waters, as though it were harmless flirting [which in reality, it was]. On a Friday afternoon Omar was in the back yard doing some stretches. I knew Hubby was in front of the window at his computer. I went out to talk to Omar, who was as cordial and welcoming as ever. We both seemed to enjoy the meaningless conversation, and kept it going for almost half an hour, during which we both relaxed and got closer together. I was consciously trying to let both him and my husband know that I was flirting with him. I ended up doing all the high school girl things: Playing with my hair, putting my hands on his arm, shoulder, waist, his thigh when we sat right beside each other on the bench, in full sight of my husband. I started to whisper little secrets in his ear, even though it wasn't necessary; banal, ordinary things, but just to show how close we were, to make my husband wonder what I was telling him and to actually practice flirting with him because it was so much fun. I still didn't accept that my body wanted him inside me bad enough to sabotage my efforts to remain a faithful, good wife with this sexy black stud inches away from me. I finally asked if he had anything to drink, and he invited me inside. I grinned excitedly as he motioned for me to go first, hoping Mike was watching. He insisted that I let him make me a special alcoholic drink, something sweet, tasty, and very strong. I made a big deal out of everything and tried to stay in Omar's suite as long as I could, trying to make Mike wonder [or fantasize] what we might be doing. He showed me his studio area, cameras and lights set up around a bed. As soon as I saw it I knew it was a set for making porn. I felt myself get super wet, knowing what must go on in that bed. I kept up the school girl flirting, and when I asked him what he'd been doing stretches for, he answered sensuously that he was expecting a female visitor for some fun later, and wanted to be limber for her. I asked if he would be shooting movies of her, and he replied, "Of us," ambiguously leaving me to wonder if he meant me and him, which caused a wet spot. By this time my legs were shaking, I was having trouble keeping my breathing steady, and my heart was pounding. We were beginning to get really close to each other; he had his hand on me somewhere the whole time I was in his suite, and I was loving it—maybe a bit too much. I could tell I was flushed and needed to leave. I got caught up in it and kissed him on the mouth just before I left. I had meant for it to be a quick, almost innocent kiss, but he had other ideas. Our tongues snaked out to each other, and danced the erotic mating dance that had never failed to lead to sex with me, which since my second wedding had only been with my husband. I realized if I didn't escape soon I would lose control of the situation. It was just supposed to be a tease but his remarks about his female visitor pushed me right to the edge. Over an hour after we'd come inside, I thanked Omar for the drink and he slipped me a business card with an internet address on it. As I left, I paused out of sight of both men. I reached down and pulled my short skirt up, pulling my panties down and off, scrunching them in my hand so they couldn't be seen. I moved my clothes around in kind of a mess and messed up my hair a bit, to make Mike really wonder what had happened. I was wet enough and open enough to have just had sex with Omar—hubby wouldn't be sure. I realized that despite Omar's very obvious and undeniable sexiness, I was extra horny, to have allowed things to have gotten this far. This was obviously something which would give me the ultimate sexual high if it ever happened, and my body really wanted it, to the point that I was powerless to stop myself from responding to him. My mind could have fought these urges off, but the mind's major flaw/strength is that whatever else it does it is the largest sexual organ in the body, male or female. My next mental effort was a quick calculation of when my last period was, etc. I realized Sunday I would be ovulating. Uh-huh; no wonder I was so horny. I had to stay away from Omar until at least Tuesday to be safe. By then there would be no chance of pregnancy, and I would have my hormones under control, I hoped. Before I quickly crossed the yard, pretending to try to avoid getting caught, I resolved to try to stay away from Omar until I had this under control. Hubby intercepted me when I tried to sneak into the house and whispered in my ear, "Were you visiting Omar?" I giggled, "Yes." As I tried to squirm away, he slid his hand up my leg, looking for wet panties and got a shock: no panties, just an open, dripping pussy. He slid a finger inside and felt how hot I was. "So did you guys just talk, or more...?" I grinned, "We just talked Honey. Honest." He groaned, "Aww..." I leaned really close to him and whispered, "We were afraid of getting caught." He seemed kind of shocked, and grinning I left him standing there. While I went off to go look at the computer, he slipped off to the bedroom to rub one out. He came over and kissed me afterward, whispering in my ear that the only way he could have a better night than being with me was if he got to have a bit of pie with it... I was shocked, but the more I thought about things the more I wondered if Mike had somehow conspired with Omar to slip me hormones to make me ovulate or something, because I found myself getting totally soaked every time Omar came around me. I wondered whether they were slipping me Ecstasy or I had my answer, or convinced myself I did. A man in Mike's position would never come out and tell me he wanted me to spread my legs for Omar; he wanted me to figure it out and do it myself, and keep it from him so he wouldn't have to face it and discuss it with me, so it could go on and on and we could both get what we needed. I began to wonder if Mike had chosen Omar as our tenant on purpose. I found all these arguments thrilling, but if I'd put a bit of thought into it all I might have seen that I was making excuses for something I really wanted. Besides, I don't know if Mike knew how far I wanted to take this. He may have thought it would be hot to see me Dance with Omar, maybe even sneak a little kiss and a feel some time, or suck him, or even let him have me—at least with a condom on—but I don't think he knew I was keeping track of my ovulation, or that Omar had a porno set in his living room. The point I made to myself was that I had told my husband I had a private moment of some kind with a black stud, and the next thing I knew Mike was running off a load by hand. Thinking about me with Omar made Mike's cock hard enough that he couldn't do anything without cumming. That made me wet. I went to the computer and looked up the website Omar had given me. I couldn't believe what I saw. I had always tried to limit my exposure to interracial porn, because I got way too out of control when I saw it. But I couldn't resist it, and when I found pure stuff, amateur stuff, I savored it. Amateur Interracial creampie porn, especially breeding, always swept me away into a fantasy fever. I struggled not to get addicted to it. Getting my growing desire under control got a lot harder when Omar started having visitors. That night, Friday, he had a white woman over, and she stayed until quite late. I remember being encouraged that he liked white women. Once in a while I could hear her moan or cry out, and I knew they were using the 'set.' I began to wonder if the movies he was making were posted online. Looking around Omar's site, I found out he had a thing for white women, especially married white women, 30-40 years old, a little overweight like myself. I signed into the members area with the info Omar had given me, and there were dozens of pictures of women built like me, about my age, all displaying their wedding rings and fresh creampies, and there was a flashing icon on one side proclaiming, "Bed Cam Live Now." I couldn't believe it. Could it really be? I clicked, of course... I saw the lady who had arrived after dinner; evidently her name was Anna. She was naked except for a belly chain, and bent over while a black man, apparently Omar, licked her from behind. I minimized the screen and quickly snuck into the bedroom to retrieve Jamal, then hurried back to the computer. When I looked back at the screen, I could see Anna on her back, and Omar was between her legs. As I started watching, she was anticipating his entry. I slid Jamal's thick head up to my clit and teased myself for a while before slowly working it between my lips, riding it like I was having a seizure, not super fast but uncontrollably. I could not stop myself from mimicking what I saw on the screen, wishing with my entire soul that I was her. I sat enthralled as he touched her with his manhood and her head fell back, her eyes closed and her mouth wide open. I couldn't see his cock entering her, but seeing her reaction was driving me crazy. Soon I was working Jamal into me. Normally it takes me a while, generally 5 minutes because of its size, but that night it went right in. I had been using it several times a day since Jamal moved in, so I was stretched a bit anyway, but I was also very, very excited. I found the whole thing to be way more intense witnessing it live, and I found myself sitting on it, taking it all the way in. I watched as he started moving in her, and rocked back and forth on my giant jelly dildo. He was talking to her, asking her if she really wanted him to do it. He asked if she was ovulating and she nodded yes. Apparently I started to make noise, so Mike came in to check on me. I had to quickly close everything on the screen, and try to stop my hips from moving me around on the huge dildo. Once I had convinced Mike that I was alright and chased him off, I reopened the site and saw him pounding her hard, and she was kissing him. He said, "Here it comes," and held himself deep inside her. I knew he was cumming in her, and again her reaction was enough to set me off. Since I first learned about my reproductive system, beginning about the third grade, I've had a 'thing' about feeling a guy push his cockhead against my cervix and squirt his sperm up into my womb. Now I didn't care if Mike came in and saw me, I had to release after that. I kept imagining how it would feel spurting up inside me, and then when Omar pulled himself out and I saw his size, I gasped out loud and Mike did come in. I heard him and minimized quickly. Just in time, at least I thought. I kept coming as I pretended to wait for something to load. Mike again split, and I let loose all over my big dildo, soaking the chair. Without even cleaning up, I watched as the couple made love a second time and then rested easily, kissing occasionally and then him giving her an allover massage. He had her on her back and was feeling her from her toes first then up her shins to her thighs where he loitered for some time—much to her delight—then skipped over her groin completely, settling one hand on her tummy. When I saw him caressing her tummy and heard them talk about her and her husband's preparations for the new baby. Within a few seconds of hearing this, Jamal was all the way inside me again, pressed against my cervix. I came for a long time. A minute? Twenty? It felt like a day. By the time I slowed down and got under control, my legs were shaking, my heart pounding in my chest, and I hurt everywhere. I told Mike I didn't feel well and went to bed, already exhausted. On Saturday I had a chance to talk to Omar, who was as inviting and friendly as ever. He joked around about whether I had ever been in any movies. My heart was pounding, I was sweating and dripping. I blushed and said I could never do that. He continued to tease me and told me that I looked incredible and that I should think about it. I said that my hubby would never appear with me in such a video. He put his hand on my ass and squeezed firmly, leaning in close and whispered sensuously in my ear, "Who said anything about hubby?" He kept his hand firmly, confidently on my ass, sliding over so he could reach his fingertips in to my pussy, and held me like that as I shook with the hottest orgasm I'd had since my honeymoon. It was all so bad, so wrong. That's what made it good. But the fact that my husband and I wanted kids, and my husband couldn't be the father, and he didn't mind if the baby was black and actually seemed to prefer it—suddenly made it all seem right, enough to make me actually convince myself that I was considering being impregnated by a black stud while I was broadcast live on the internet, thirty-five feet from my husband in his chair. The conflicts and shock at being able to find one way after another to justify not only fantasizing about it, but how to get away with actually doing it, had my head swirling in a cloud of lustful desire, earthy and desperate; coupled with a longing for the excitement of a new lover and the youthful rebirth it represents; plus the deep, beautiful need to be a mother again with a man who totally turns me on—a strong, virile black man whom I've already nearly fucked twice. When I'd finished cumming, he kept his fingers stuffed up against me, and we kissed for several minutes. The Newton Tenancy Agreement Ch. 01 On the way back to the house I tried to calm down, but hubby intercepted me and made a comment about me spending a lot of time at Omar's. I asked if that upset him, and he said we'd have to talk about it tonight in bed. I said that sounded nice, trying to maintain my composure. As soon as he was busy with something I went to the computer and went to the website Omar had given me. It was his site, with pictures of him all over it, pictures of him with white women, and movies available to paying customers. I signed in using the info Omar had given me and found lots of movies to watch. I clicked on one and saw the girl he had been with last night—it was already up there. I watched and realized that she was an older woman like me, and saw the wedding ring she kept showing the camera. It all got me really hot. As soon as I knew Omar was up on Sunday morning I went out and talked to him, immediately telling him how much I had enjoyed the show, and he joked asking me if I could see myself in his studio without my husband. As slyly as I could I whispered in his ear, "I noticed you had nothing booked for tonight..." I couldn't believe I had said that. It was like every time I opened my mouth I said something that made it harder to avoid an explosive situation. He moaned softly, there was a tense silence, then we both joked around again and tried to make the whole thing back into casual flirting. I walked back to the house on wobbly legs, my heart pounding, nearly hyperventilating, soaked between the legs—neither of us sure whether I was going to visit Omar tonight or not. To be continued... The Newton Tenancy Agreement Ch. 02 As I got into the house, all I could think about was going to the computer—straight to Omar's website—and watch what I pictured that night being for me: an extramarital, interracial insemination. I was so wet and out of control, I expected to be able to get three fingers inside. Just as I was getting there, Mike steered me toward the bedroom, wordlessly reaching around to unfasten my shorts and slide them down. He paused when he felt the river running out of me, and by the time we got to the bed, we were both naked and his tongue was deep inside me as I settled back, spreading wide for this wildman. My head was swirling for so many reasons, I couldn't concentrate on anything but controlling my screaming as I released almost immediately, and then again before getting under some sort of control. As eagerly as I anticipated an event of some kind with Omar, eventually, my husband was still the man of my dreams. He made me cum super hard, gave me multiples routinely, and always put his all into it. He wasn't even undersized at all. At times I had trouble taking him all. And we truly loved each other, which always made it so intimate for both of us. But this time I was so loose from anticipation combined with taking my black dildo inside me several times a day, that while he tried as hard as ever, it had the appearance in my agitated state of being smaller than usual. And I can't say I was only thinking of Omar, because I sensed my husbands presence with me with all my being. It always felt that way with him, but flashes of that wicked, knowing smile of white teeth beaming out of Omar's chuckling black, bald head kept looming right in front of my face, teasing, reminding me what could be inside me tomorrow night. When I was finally starting to settle down from a continuous stream of uncontrolled orgasmic seizure, almost getting into a casual rhythm, Mike started to lose control, at just the right time as always. I've always loved feeling him cum inside me, so forceful and deep, spurting up into my depths and spraying what seemed like a lot in me, which always made me hot enough to cum one last time. But this time, he kind of held in me and seemed to strain for nothing. Because I had been hammering myself with Jamal and daydreaming about Omar's cock for so long, and the fact that today's conversations had made me the most excited I had ever been, the wettest for sure, I could barely feel anything, and I remembered a remark I had read several times: Interracial cuckold couples who still had sex usually had mostly 69, because a woman who gets black cock regularly is quite loose, and often filled with cum that cuckolds find yummy, licking her is the best way to get him hot, unless he's just a wimp type cuckold, sub, and then that's all he allowed. Either way, it occurred to me that Mike had maybe already had my pussy for the last meaningful time, that he likely wouldn't cum inside me anymore, or not very much. I later realized that he must have been jacking himself off five or more times a day (I later found out up to 8 times in a day since Omar had begun to flirt with me) But by then I was thinking of other things. So many thoughts were roaring through my head like runaway trains. I thought about everything from the accuracy of the ovulation testers Omar used on his site, whether they were even real, if my calculations were correct and I would be at absolute peak fertility with my new black paramour shooting his sperm inside my uterus. I thought about how the baby would affect our friendships, Mike's reputation, our relationship. I wondered for the first time about the future; would Omar stay living in the apartment, would I keep seeing him, would he and Mike get along afterwards, would it all get complicated? Would notoriety from the website cause big problems around the neighborhood? I ran through the timing to figure out my rough due-date, I even started to go through appropriate baby names. The only thing I didn't dare think about directly was whether I could actually go through with allowing a man besides my husband, a black man, a stranger basically, to have intercourse with me, to inseminate me—make a beautiful living baby inside me, to make me a black-cock-breeding-slutwife amateur porn slut. Wearing my brave (horny) face I convinced myself that was a given, though a small voice inside me said, "We'll see..." When we finished, I basically kissed Mike on the cheek and rolled over back to sleep. I awoke at nearly noon, taking care of a few household chores before spending the rest of the day preening and making myself as desirable as I possibly could. My head still swirled with details and small worries, but I felt a bit better based not only on my complete surrender to feeling aroused by Omar, but also on how easily I gave myself permission to make myself over, to try my hardest to look good for a new man, something I hadn't done since I met Mike. I had a few pangs of guilt when I realized I might be tricking myself by not addressing the nay-saying voice inside me. That maybe it knew something I didn't, like that I didn't have the nerve to go through with this insanity. What it came down to was the knowledge that I had found an inarguable excuse for each of my concerns. Most of them were flimsy, some even silly, but I could always plead later that I was thinking clearly and those excuses seemed logical at the time. Finally, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Mike was convinced, I was just beating myself up. The one nagging thought I had was that when I saw Omar naked, I would not be able to stop myself from mounting him. There was no way around this. If it got that far, I would have a baby. That seemed to take control from my hands, and I stopped worrying and started to drift into an orgasmic gluttony. I stared at video after video of married white women falling prey to Omar's charms, his boundless sexuality, his immense cock, that incredible staying power, and all that sperm, never wasted. I watched through glassy, dazed eyes as one woman after another spread for him and allowed him to make a baby inside them. This washed all doubt away as I realized the sheer quantity of white women impregnated by this one black stud was enough that I could fit in easily, yet he provided links to many other 'breeding brothers.' Each of them had to be pumping out many pregnant white wives. There was even a link to apply to take part in a breeding club, which was for white women to go become black pregnant in a group environment. As I accepted everything I drifted into semi-conscious feverish ecstasy. Finally Mike came in from all his yard work and I was forced to rebuild some composure. I hung out and talked to Mike about a few mundane things, then we had some dinner and he went to do some work on the computer. It was five-thirty; I couldn't wait any longer. For some reason I felt it important to call before going over, and as soon as he answered I understood why: my husband could hear. I played the high school girl to the hilt, obviously flirting, using every double-entendre I could slip in. Although I was whispering, pretending to be trying to keep quiet, I made sure hubby heard me ask Omar what I should wear. I then moaned sensuously and pretended to be panting, trying to control my breathing. I made sure Mike heard me tell Omar he was, "such a bad boy. I'm married, you know. Well, okay. Just for you. I don't know, maybe you should wear one too and I'll see just how special. But I'd better wear a tampon or something, or I might leave a stain. (Pause.)(Gasp!) Omar you are so bad... That's why you're always washing your sheets. Hmmm, I bet we will. Okay, no panties, but I'll leave a trail. Would you really? Oh, Omar... I guess you'll just have to taste for yourself, besides, you're the one who's sweet... (Laughing) Okay, sweet and salty. No, I'm sure we won't waste any... Hmmm... I can't wait..." In a few minutes, after I had changed into a bath robe and nothing else, I poked my head into the office and told Mike I was going to visit Omar. He sat stunned staring at me, then asked what I was wearing. I told him I was going to have a shower there to test the water pressure, as Omar had asked me why it faded so quickly during a shower (not completely untrue). Then, grinning at him, I saw a grin spread across his face as I turned to go to internet baby-making destiny. When I arrived on shaky legs, the door was open, and as I stepped in he closed and locked it behind me. As I turned to him, I saw he wore a robe also, and his giant cock hung out in front of him, sort of semi-hard. I gasped and he grabbed me, holding me as he kissed me deeply, feverishly, like the master was losing control of himself. I felt myself soften and melt into him, giving myself over completely this time, and I felt his cock harden and jump upwards a bit, pressing against the underside of my heavy boobs. But he broke the kiss and smiled at me, leading the way upstairs. As soon as I saw that smile in the state I was in, I felt my warm moisture running down my leg. I had never been so out-of-control. This was way beyond first-date fucking, it was extramarital first-date interracial impregnation. Before Omar moved in, I had never even imagined such a thing, but now it seemed the most natural thing in the world, like going to a spa. He led me directly to the bathroom, and explained to me how the ovulation tester worked, grinning uncontrollably, as was I. I had never seem him act this way with any of the other women, familiar and playfully flirty, jovial and teasing. I of course knew how the tester worked, having gotten off watching all those other women do it on his website. He acted as though he knew this, playfully checking to make sure I understood. As I began to notice all the cameras in his bathroom, it occurred to me for the first time that I was on his website, that it was too late, it was official: I was a slut. When it was time for me to pee on the sensor area of the tester, rather than hand it to me as he did with the other women, he held it under me, explaining that it would be more accurate if he held it in the perfect spot, telling me that he was more concerned about this result than any of the other women who had been to him for 'treatment.' I blushed, and let a small stream of pee come out onto the stick. He set the tester on the edge of the sink, wiping me very gently and kissing me, another thing he seldom did with the other women. When enough time had passed, he read the result and showed the tester to the camera. "A viable female!" Now I was blushing uncontrollably. Everyone watching on the website saw that I was a willing breeding slut. Omar guided me gently to the bed area, and caressed me as he gently encouraged me to lie down and strip, and get comfortable. I had expected to be self-conscious being naked in front of him for the first time, but it was such a natural and relaxed environment, and he put me at ease. He whispered to me how sexy I was, how beautiful. I felt truly desirable, and the cold distance of the cameras meant nothing compared with my new lover's admiring gaze. He leaned forward and began kissing me all over, moving his hands across me appreciatively, affectionately. It was more intimate, more loving than his usual technique, and it caught me off guard. When his lips met mine again, I lost myself in him. Our tongues seemed to blur into one connected common organ. He had been slowly stripping off his robe, for the benefit of all the jealous ladies watching at home, and no doubt for the benefit of my obviously eagerly watching husband across the yard, naked in front of his computer. As he pushed the robe free of his legs, his immense cock flopped soundly onto my stomach, shocking me slightly. It was like a New York phone book slapping onto my soft stomach. It was truly massive, and beginning to harden and curve slightly upward. The reality of it all was starting to have an effect on me. I felt dizzy, light headed, everything going dark like I might pass out. I became aware that my breathing was out of control. The size of it was too much to accept. I had seen women on the net take it, but seeing it in the flesh, I could not believe its size. I began to have doubts, that I could take it, that he wouldn't hurt me, that I would be able to maintain my composure. I worried that I might black out and leave him there with an embarrassing mess. He kept kissing me and made a move to go down between my legs but I stopped him, cupping his balls in both hands. They were huge. I had marveled over the size of some black men's balls, particularly well-hung ones, but these were well above average. These were at least the size of a grapefruit, maybe a bit bigger. I knew they were full of wonderful sperm to fertilize my egg, and that's the thought that pushed me over the edge. All that semen shooting into me. I couldn't wait. I pulled him up between my legs, and felt him positioning his thickness at my wet entrance, and as he leaned forward, his huge cockhead was against my slit. I lay back and settled into a near coma of lust, as I felt my beautiful black lover's manhood enter me. He was HUGE. I felt him go in and stretch me, more and more going in. He stopped and my heart sank. He pulled part way out and then went in further .I had never felt so stretched, so much pressure, stretching, going deeper, more full than I'd ever been and finally, his huge cockhead was pressed so beautifully against my cervix. He pushed in a little further, crushing the delicate opening of my womb and dominatingly smearing it into me, and his giant balls finally settled comfortably against my ass. There was no pain, just perfect excitement. I was full of him, and wanted to spend the rest of my life like this, his massive cockhead pressed snugly against my cervix, and his tongue pressed tightly to mine, with his arms wrapped around me like we were part of the same being; indivisible, as unified as the baby we were going to make. I no longer had any thoughts of right or wrong, or how could I explain this or that. I was fully focused on my lover, the other half of me, the father of my baby, and the blissful bond that had engulfed us both. The only extraneous thought I had was of Mike, enthusiastically rubbing himself raw watching his modest, pudgy wife becoming a porn starlet, a BBC slut committed fully to being bred live via internet for all to see. I knew that he was as happy as I was at that moment, but I didn't know if he was aware that oblivious to everything, lost in my new lover. I was so detached in this swirling cloud of lust that I forgot Mike and I were married, that he was waiting patiently for me and would soon want to lick the splattered mess from my stretched sloppy pussy, and then put his little white cock inside my open wetness. There was no past, no future, only Omar and me. The one clear thought working in my brain was that I would need this to continue, to repeat. Breaking the liquid silence Omar whispered to me that he was sure enough pre-cum had leaked out of him to do the deed, but he wanted to fill me to make sure, again and again all night. This brought me back to reality enough to notice that he was moving solidly, steadily, yet smoothly and gently, lovingly, in and out, in and out of my very wet, now very loose pussy. I became distracted by the sound, the sloppy sloshing of my overflowing wetness as his hardness slid easily through my love canal. I smiled at him as he leaned down to kiss me again and felt that our union—our mating—was meant to be, that it was perfectly natural and right. My ebony lover had just explained to me that I was probably already pregnant with his baby. That's when, fleetingly, I caught on to the fact that I had been having continuous orgasms since he entered me. My head swirled as I accepted that idea that I now had my lover's baby growing inside me, and I moaned as I slipped back into multi-orgasmic bliss. I'm not sure how long we continued in this position, but as I became aware of his cockhead battering my poor cervix, teasing it open to accept the coming gift, I discovered it was the best feeling I had ever had. He wasn't rough; on the contrary. He wasn't as frantic as he had been with the other women. He wasn't fucking me, he was making love with me. The feeling was total: he wasn't knocking up some white bitch, he was making a love child with me. I had only felt lust until then, animalistic, irresistible monster lust to be bred by the alpha black man with the biggest cock I had ever seen. But now that he was inside me, holding me, kissing me, I realized that the whole time, the reason he had taken the chance of hitting on his landlady and basically giving himself to me was that he might actually be in love with me. I put my arms around him and pulled him deeper into me as he pumped me, building closer to his first climax. I felt him getting more and more intense in his movements, getting closer. To encourage him, I spread myself wider, opening myself even more for him, giving him my egg, my womb, my fertility. To seal the deal I whispered to him, "Omar, please cum inside me. Let me feel your hot cum spurting into me, deep in me. Please get me pregnant..." For me it was always the S word: whenever Mike called me a slut or asked me to call myself a slut, I came uncontrollably. I loved whispering it to him, how much of a slut I was, how much I loved being a slut. For Omar, and increasingly for me as well, it was the P word: pregnant. As soon as he heard me say that he stiffened and I felt his massive cock all the way in, his thick cockhead pressed tightly against my cervix, and I knew this was it. We both held still, holding our breath, holding each other motionless. Time seemed to stand still. I could feel both our heartbeats, our sweaty bodies both shaking, shivering in anticipation, and then... One huge forceful spurt of hot liquid raced up inside me, then a short pause, and then... Blam, blam, two more hard pulses of boiling semen shot deep into me, then a few smaller bursts, then we both started breathing again. I instantly felt completely wet inside. He had obviously pumped a lot in me, way more than my husband. We held each other for a long time, not wanting to disturb his determined little swimmers racing up into me to find my ovum. I felt a flood of emotion race through me as an incredible orgasm built in me, spreading through me. I felt joy, relief, guilt, more arousal, happiness, all in a big orgasmic swirl of confusion and satisfaction. I felt like Aphrodite passionately bred by Eros. We kissed for several more minutes, still swirling in a feverish fog, before he moved back toward my feet and releasing me, began to pull his incredible thickness out of me. It seemed to take forever for it to come out, then his giant log plopped out, leaving me looser and wetter than I'd ever been, and guaranteed pregnant. I could hardly move, laying there feeling a river of his cum slowly oozing out of my open entrance. He wiped himself off then lay beside me cuddling me. I again became aware of the cameras and lights, and spread my legs playfully for the cameras as he reached around and felt my flooded pussy. I heard his fingers squishing around in my wetness. The gushy liquid sound made my head swim. It was the sound of my fertile vagina filled with my new black lover's potent sperm. Very soon I was responding, and eventually he began to maneuver me onto all fours, getting into position behind me. I wondered how it would fit this way, if he could get it all in. At first it had been his thickness I was worried about, but in this position his length might be a problem. He moved my legs around to get everything just right, then whispered to me how sexy I looked, how inviting and fuckable. I was in heaven. I stopped worrying about later, about confronting Mike, about what my friends or neighbors might think, or anything else. All that existed in my mind was the complete union of my black lover and myself. The Newton Tenancy Agreement Ch. 02 He rubbed himself all around my slushy gash and then entered me slowly, but deliberately, going all the way in to his balls in one motion. It felt so good to have him back inside me. In this arrangement, I felt his thickness in deep, and I found that when he pushed me forward at the end of his stroke, his fat cockhead brushed deliciously against my cervix, as I had hoped. The wonderful fluid inside me was squirting and splashing out in warm jets around his monster cock as he worked in and out of me. I felt it running down my ass cheeks onto the bed. I began to get very excited, mumbling gibberish amd getting out of control again as the one thing that mattered, the one thing I couldn't wait for was another load of his vital, powerful sperm deep inside me, in my womb, in my egg. He had faced me toward the cameras, which I was beginning to accept as part of the package, and as I cared less and less about who saw me and more about getting Omar's baby inside me, I started to think about Mike. I wondered if he could see me right now, if he was cumming right now, if his poor little white cock was getting raw from all the rubbing. I made a big deal out of moving my wedding ring around where it could easily be seen, the way I had seen all the other women doing, and now I understood why we all did it. It was part of the gift, part of sharing it all with hubby. Again, I had been so lost in my own overwhelming lust, my own ecstasy that I missed the cues that he was ready to shoot. Then I heard the tell-tale grunt and pressed back against him, preparing for the blasts of hot cum as he pushed in as deep as he could go, right up against my tortured little cervix. I felt his huge balls squish up against my clit as he was truly all the way in me. He let out a tiny groan as his balls crushed against me, and pressed harder, flattening them against my clit. It was such an erotic little detail that I gasped, trying to hold myself in position for my seeding. We held statue-still again for what seemed a sweaty, breathless eternity. I turned my head and whispered to him, "Please lover, please inseminate me, please Omar, I want to have your baby... I need you to impregnate me..." This set off the first hard, blasting spurt deep inside me. It was amazing. It felt like a water balloon exploding in me. He shot a couple more times, then held himself in me again, caressing my wide ass, my big hips, my thick thighs, and whispering sweetness to me. As he reached his hand around to feel where we joined, to slide his finger into my flowing wetness along with his cock, he groaned and I felt another pulse of warm, eager semen flow into me. After a while, we settled together on the bed, and snuggled. He reached over and shut off all the cameras and equipment, and killed the lights so we could rest. I was completely worn out, and he seemed to be drained. I kept thinking I should get home to Mike, but Omar started whispering to me as he kissed me all over. "Amanda, you are the sexiest woman I've ever seen. The minute I saw you, I knew I wanted you to have my baby. He or she will be so beautiful. I don't want to come between you and your husband, but any time you want to make love with me, just come over and I'm yours. I am giving myself to you. Right now I'm very tired, and your husband is waiting for you." He kissed me for a few minutes and then wished me good night. I put my robe on and went across the yard to the house. I went straight to the computer room where Mike was sitting watching the video of Omar and me over and over. As I approached him he got up and threw his arms around me, kissing me with abandon. He had on only a t-shirt, and slid my robe off me, guiding me into the bedroom and easing me onto the bed. He kissed me all over my sweaty, glowing body, then hovering over my ear, he whispered, "I know you're tired, but right now, I need you more than I ever have. Let me love you the way I've wanted to for so long. I love you." I answered, "I love you," and spread my legs for him. As I expected he moved between my legs and very gingerly began to kiss my legs and lick around my pussy. His breathing was rapid and barely controlled. I knew he was as excited as he'd ever been, and I loved to be able to give him his sweet pie. I was exhausted, and just lay there enjoying it. But when he began to lick my loose, sloppy pussy, he started to take his time, obviously enjoying it very much. That's of course when I became more animated. I squirmed and writhed around the bed, and he kept his tongue pressed into me. He licked me for what seemed hours, as I rode wave after wave of calm, relaxed, easy orgasms, getting closer and closer to passing out. Finally, he moved up between my legs, feverishly, both of us shaking. The moment had come: I was a well used slut for my loving husband, and he was getting the first of my black lover's creamy leftovers. I couldn't tell who was happier, but we were both nearly out of control. I couldn't wait for him to feel how wet I was, how slippery and slimy, how completely lax and loose, the way he had always told me he wanted me to feel. As he entered me, he let out the kind of groan that could only come from ultimate pleasure. I could barely feel him, but he felt me, and let me know how much he appreciated it. It felt amazing; I had never felt so close to him. There were no thoughts of what came next, the baby, the next time I would see Omar, jealousy or anything else except my husband and I making love and bonding completely. Even though he had made himself cum five times while I was with Omar, Mike came fairly quickly, and collapsed onto me, panting out of control. He used the last of his energy to move over beside me, snuggling against me. I realized at that moment that as incredible as it had been with Omar, Mike had nothing to fear. I was at home here with him, the other half of my soul, the completion of my spirit. And because of this I felt absolutely certain that the baby I was carrying would be welcome and loved by all. To be continued?...