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Cheryl's Trip

By: bobfr



I was standing close enough to the stunningly beautiful woman to see the band of gold on the third finger of her perfectly manicured left hand as she handed the ticket agent her boarding pass. I was struck by her beauty. Her brown hair was in a conservative business woman's style. Her face, well her face would be envied by any actress or super model. The stylish dove- grey suit did little to hide her perfect figure. Her long legs were encased in dark nylon, her feet in high heel pumps. Before she entered the jet way, she looked over her shoulder directly at me. Her big blue eyes couldn't conceal what seemed to be a mixture of excitement and fear. She took a few long graceful strides and was swallowed up in the jet way. My thoughts were interrupted by the announcement over the airport's PA system. "Final call, Delta flight 308 is now ready to depart for Atlanta, all passengers should be on board." 

There was a lump in my throat as I walked slowly down the long concourse to the short- term parking garage. My thoughts lingered on the breathtakingly beautiful creature who had boarded the plane for Atlanta—but I knew that Atlanta wasn't her final destination, she would be at the airport just long enough to make the connection for her flight to Charlotte, North Carolina. I also knew she had never been to Charlotte. 

She was dressed as if she would soon be conducting important business. She could have been a successful attorney, an accountant or an investment banker. But I knew she was none of these. I knew that her name was Cheryl, she was a thirty-five-year-old wife, a mother of two children and who, until recently, worked as a receptionist in a real estate office in Scottsdale, Arizona. I knew that she had been married for nearly sixteen years and even that she went to her marriage bed as an innocent virgin and had remained faithful to her wedding vows ever since. 

I was one of only three people aware of a carefully kept secret; she was flying to Charlotte to spend the weekend with a man who was not her husband, a man she had never even met. How did I know all of this? Because she is my wife, the woman that I love more than anything, more than life itself. I'm Dan, Cheryl's husband the person responsible for everything that led up to her trip. 

As I walked to my car, I was reminded that in two days, on Sunday, I would be returning here to welcome Cheryl back. The lonely drive to our suburban home in Tempe took less than fifteen minutes. The passenger seat in the four-year-old Honda Accord was empty, as was a place in my heart that was only full when she was physically present. But this weekend I would spend alone because our children, two girls ages 11 and 7, had left three days ago for two weeks at summer camp. 

Just two days ago I couldn't have imagined that Cheryl would actually board the plane for her adventure. This morning, as I watched her dress for her journey, I kept thinking that at some point she would surely change her mind. But she didn't change her mind. At the airport I thought the odds were good that she wouldn't get on the plane, but she did. Even now, I wondered if she would make the connection in Atlanta? And, if she did choose to go on, when she arrived in Charlotte would she renege on her promises to me and to Thomas? Would he even be there to meet her? 

As soon as I closed to the door to the modest tract house that had been our home for 8 years, exhaustion overcame me and I laid down on our bed hoping to take a nap. I remembered that it was on this king-size bed that the salacious thoughts that led up to all of this began to take shape. 

Three years ago we traveled to the Carribean for a convention. It was there that I saw men openly and lustfully ogle her as she stretched out in her little bikini trying to catch some rays. And, though I knew what they were thinking, I found their lusting after her indescribably exciting. That night, after we made love in our tropical hotel bed, I confessed my feelings to her. As you might imagine, she didn't believe me. At first, she thought I was surely joking. 

As time went by this became a recurring theme for our lovemaking. When she understood how hot it made me she went along with the fantasy. For a couple of years it was fairly mild stuff, her with one of our friends, or her with a movie star or an NFL quarterback. Then, to keep the excitement at a fevered pitch I began to talk about her being with more than one guy at a time, wearing sluty clothes and much, much more. 

During this phase of her transition I discovered Penthouse Letters, a monthly magazine that featured letters from readers, and I learned that a high percentage of those letters were from men who shared their wives with other men, or at least wanted to. I devoured these letters and waited anxiously for the next issue to appear. On those few occasions when Cheryl could travel with me I encouraged her to read my new source of stimulation. As she read them without comment, nevertheless, I sensed that some of the letters were also a turn-on for her.

It was a few months ago, and with some trepidation I'll admit, that I suggested we make my fantasy a reality. Frankly, I wasn't at all surprised when Cheryl said, "Danny, pretending while we're making love is one thing, actually doing any this stuff you fantasize about is another. Just forget it, I'll never be with another man. Will you please stop bugging me about it? Okay?" Well, I didn't pay much attention to what she said. The next time we made love I started where we left off and encouraged her to make it happen, as I did every time thereafter. Over time, it became obvious that she was enjoying my fantasies which were intensifying. I would say things like "don't you ever think about fucking other guys? Wouldn't you love to have a huge cock in your pussy? It would drive me crazy to know you were spreading your legs for someone else. I really want this to happen, Cher!" 

Then a couple of months ago I discovered the Internet and some of the sites. I found that other husbands, countless husbands, it seemed, wanted the same thing for their wives that I did for Cheryl. They wanted them to be attractive and desirable to other men, men who would not be threats to their marriages or to their families. I discovered "Hot Wife" forums, postings of raunchy wife pictures, stories and more. I finally mentioned all this to Cheryl. Her response was "you're all sick." 

The night before I left on my last business trip to Denver, as we laid naked against each other, I had been pushing her hard and saying how fascinated I was by the women who fulfilled their husband's fantasies. The more slutty their behavior, the greater my fascination with them. She seemed exasperated as she nearly shouted, "Danny you just don't see it, they're all tramps, nothing more."

"Bullshit Cheryl! They just love their husbands a hell of a lot more than you do me. You know this is something that I really want and you're unwilling to do it for me."

"If you really loved and respected me you couldn't possibly want me to!" She nearly shouted..

We seemed to be going in circles, then I crossed a line when I said, "I don't think that's it at all, I don't think you have the guts to do what those other wives do for their husbands."

She recoiled, almost as if I had slapped her. She was very quiet for a few seconds and then very seriously asked, "Did you say what I thought you said?"

I didn't think there was much to lose so I shrugged my shoulders, turned off the light rolled away from her and muttered, "you heard me . . . you just don't have the nerve to do it."

The next morning, before the sun came up, I was awakened by her sucking on my cock. When it was rock hard, she climbed on. We faced each other with her left leg over mine, our mouths locked in a lingering wet kiss and with our bodies joined. I don't remember when she had been more enthusiastic. Finally we exploded at the same time.

In the afterglow, with her head on my shoulder she whispered in my ear, "Danny, if I ever did the crazy things you insist you want me to do you'd probably hate me, divorce me and never let me see the kids." 

I was surprised, realizing that for the first time she was actually thinking about doing it. "Oh, no honey, you've got it all wrong, not only would I not divorce you, I'd love you even more, if that's possible." I paused for a moment and then asked, "Does this mean you'll do it?"

She was biting on her lower, as she did when she was troubled then said, "It's so complicated. I'd just die if anyone ever found out." She paused for a few seconds before continuing, "I know I could never do anything here . . . if it's ever going to happen, it has to be out of town," she said softly.

The years of sharing my naughty thoughts with her seemed to be paying off. She implied that she would fuck another guy, but only out of town. I thought I should strike while she was in this compliant mood. 

"Hey, babe, that's no problem, I've got frequent flyer points that I'm going to lose if they're not used. And, I can't think of anything better to use them for. Let, me ask, how far are you willing to go? I haven't been bashful about telling you, you know what I want." And she did know. Hardly a time went by when I was buried inside her moist vagina that I didn't encourage her by saying, "you're the hottest women in the world . . . this is the best pussy . . . wouldn't you love to have a parade of giant cocks . . . wouldn't you love to be a whore." Romance wasn't part of my fantasy, just hot sweaty sex. And then I would go on, "wouldn't you love to have a big black cock . . . lots of big black cocks." She never answered these questions directly with words, but I noticed that she increasingly answered with a moan, a sigh, an intensified movement, a griping of her inner muscles, or pulling my lips to hers for a wet kiss.

She was silent for a long time and then surprised me by saying, "if I'm going to do anything, I might as well do everything."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It needed confirmation. I thought I should try to close. "So, you'll get on a plane, meet a guy, a black guy, fuck him and let him peddle your pussy?"

She sat up in bed, looked down at me and asked, "is that really what you want me to do?"

"You know it is," was my nearly breathless confirmation. 

Nothing much was said as I finished packing for my trip. We drove to the airport in silence. After I parked at the curb in front of the Delta terminal, I could tell that she was still in deep thought. I turned to her and asked, "so Cheryl should I try to set something up, or not?"

"I thought I was the perfect wife. Now after all these years we're talking about you making arrangements for me fly away and do who knows what?"

"Not who knows what . . . fucking guys," I corrected. "Well?"

We sat there for several minutes. The cop patrolling the parking area walked past twice and I knew I had to leave soon, finally her silence was broken, she was still looking down at her lap and quietly gave me the permission I never expected to receive by simply saying, "okay."

Even though I was exhausted I couldn't sleep so I decided to hit the Internet for a while. Ironically, without the Internet, Cheryl wouldn't be on her way to Charlotte.

++++++++ \ My hand seemed to have a life of its own as it moved the mouse on the pad controlling the arrow, clicking and bringing me to my destination. This was a frequent destination for me the last two weeks, a chat room that I had stumbled across. It was in this very chat room two nights ago when I first became acquainted with Thomas. It was here that I shared with a complete stranger the most intimate details of our life and even my most secret dreams. I logged in with the handle that I always used, "CherylsHub." 

After a few seconds, the list of those in the room scrolled down and my handle was added to the long list. I had entered the room. I recognized many of the handles: blkck4wf, 11inches, BM9, Darkman, MWF and then familiar names, Tyrone, Reggie, Leon, Teri and Cathy among others. This room, Darkroom Two, was a place where white women or their husbands came to chat with black men who, for some reason, preferred white pussy to black. One handle that I saw for the first time just two nights ago when I Logged on from my hotel room in Denver was missing, as I was sure it would be. I didn't see listed among the dozen or so handles, Thomas' handle, pimp4wwives." I confess I was shocked, but also very intrigued, when I read it for the first time Wednesday night, just two nights ago. I remembered being beyond curious as I selected his handle, checked the "private" box so that others would not read what we were saying, and typed the following: Hi, Dan here, we live in Phoenix, where's home for you?"

Because the room was full, about twenty-five people, I assumed he would be busy and I really didn't expect him to answer, but he did, almost immediately. PRIVATE TO CherylsHub, Hey Dan, Thomas here, live in Charlotte, NC." 

Now what, I wondered? I didn't have to wonder long because before I could type anything he was back with: "Tell me all about Cheryl." This was somewhat familiar territory for me. I had chatted here before and answered this same question in cyber shorthand many times. So, I typed, 35yo (years old) 5'8," 123 #s, long brown hair, blue eyes, 36,24,35." 

"Cool man, any pics?" 

I was sure this would be asked very soon, it always was. "No, no pics, this is a new thing, being very careful, don't want photos of my wife posted all over the net. Also, you should know that we don't give out our e-mail address or our telephone number. Hope that's not a problem." 

"No prob, that's smart, lots of assholes here. I'm serious as a heart attack about this and hope you are too." This seemed unusual. Most people who chatted wanted photos, email addresses and phone numbers, Thomas seemed to be willing to spend some time and get acquainted without pressure. He went on, "How long has Cheryl been fucking blacks?"

"She's never been with anyone but me. It's a fantasy that I hope will come true." 

"That's cool, what makes you think she will?"

"I've been after her for a long time to do it. The black thing is sort of new. She kept saying no, no, no. Then, out of the blue, just this morning, she said that if she did it, it would have to be out of town."

"Hey guess I qualify on that part, I'm certainly out of town. Now tell me Dan, what exactly is your fantasy? 

"When I pressed and asked if she would do everything, she said something like, if she was going to do anything, she might as well do everything."

"Wow, that's fucking hot. I'd sure like to help. By your description she might work out but let me ask is her face pretty? Is she well groomed? Does she love sex? Any STD? Well?"

I was beginning to think this guy might be for real. I typed, "She's truly gorgeous, really the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She drains me and is always ready for more. I haven't had that much experience but I've never been with a woman who seems to love it nearly as much as my Cheryl does. She's never had a sexually transmitted disease. 

"So, do you think she would come here?" Thomas wanted to know.

I couldn't believe that this might actually be happening. I thought about his question and all I could answer was, "she might, I hope she will." There, I said it. "How would this work?" I asked.

PRIVATE TO CherylsHub: "What I do ain't no secret. I got me a place twenty miles outside the city. Always looking for help. Had good luck with married white gals. I'm kinda desperate and need help now. That's why I'm here, sort of recruiting. Looking for local gals but could fit Cheryl in if you're interested."

This seemed almost too good to be true. As my fantasies developed, they seemed to consolidate into just one: Cheryl getting on a plane, flying to a distant city where she would be met by a pimp at the airport, returning a few days later eager to share the most intimate details of her adventure with me. In my recent fantasy the pimp is always black as are the nearly endless parade of faceless customers with gigantic black cocks. Could it be that the person writing to me from a computer nearly three thousand miles away, Thomas the Charlotte pimp, would be the one to bring my fantasy into the realm of reality?

"PRIVATE TO CherylsHub:" flashed on the bright screen and Thomas continued. "The way I see it man, if we can work things out, I mean if you get her here for the weekend, she wouldn't really have to bring anything. I'd take her to a store my ladies use and buy her some frilly things, drive her out to the house, take her for a test drive so to speak . . . fuck her . . . if everything's cool, I'll put her right to work. I'd send her back to you on Sunday, sore but with a smile. How does that sound?"

"Have you done something like this before?" I asked.

"Not from as far away as Arizona, but yes, most of the white gals have been married. I have one now who's a school teacher and works weekends. She's been off for two weeks and won't be back for another month. The brothers are pissing and moaning and sure miss her."

"Does her husband know about this?"

"Fuck yes man. They live in Raleigh he's the one who set it up in the first place and made the arrangements. I think he loves it." Thomas explained.

For some reason that I can't explain, I trusted this stranger. I believed he was telling me the truth, don't ask why. "So, how do we make it happen?"

"I understand why you don't want to give out your home phone number, caller ID and all that shit. I don't need to know your last name, address or anything like that, but I do need to talk with Cheryl before we go much further. Fuck, I trust you man, but I'd sure hate to make plans get the guys all excited about fresh meat and then get to the airport and find out I'd been a fool. Does that make sense, Dan?"

"Of course it does. I just don't have a clue how we proceed."

I waited for his reply which was slow to come. "How about if you get her to come on and chat. She there now?"

"Sorry, I didn't explain. We live in Phoenix but I'm in my hotel room in Denver and won't be home until tomorrow night."

Again his response was not immediate. "Well how about this? Give her a call, have her log on and we can talk." This was moving much faster than I had anticipated. "Can't hurt to try I guess. I've asked her to chat with other guys before but she wouldn't." 

"Then go for it man! Give her a call. What have you got to lose? Hey, I'll talk real sweet to her and then you and I can chat after and see if we have a deal. Have her log in as ThomasWW." 

"What's WW?" I wanted to know.

"Why, white whore my man, what else? Get the fuck off the computer and call her quick, I'll wait"

"Might take a while, give me half an hour?"

"You got it. By the way don't you have to describe me to her?"

"Shit, I'm not thinking, of course I do," I said feeling stupid. 

"I'm 55, 6'3" 250 lbs., shaved head and 10 X 7. Used to drive a truck before Rosie, my wife, and I started this business. She died about a year ago, sure miss her."

"Sorry to hear that," I said.

"Thanks. Most of my customers are black truck drivers who make it a point to schedule their trips so they can stop here. Hurry man, talk with Cheryl."

"Okay, talk to you later." With that, I logged off, disconnected the phone line from my notebook PC and plugged it back into the hotel telephone.

+++++++++++

I remembered that it had been nearly 10:00 p.m. in Denver, 9:00 at home and midnight in Charlotte when I punched in the familiar numbers. The phone rang three times before I heard her beautiful voice say, "Hi honey." Obviously, she had looked at the caller ID and saw that the call was placed from the Holiday Inn in downtown Denver where I always stay. 


Cheryl's Trip



"How's it going?" I asked her.

She sighed and said, "Oh, I miss you and the kids, wish you were here. How was your day?" 

"I made a couple of calls with the new guy." I knew that I couldn't waste a lot of time, Thomas would be waiting, so with some reluctance I went on. "Remember what we were talking about this morning before I left?"

She laughed and said, "Ooohhhh, is poor Danny horny?"

"I'm always horny, but remember?"

"Of course, how could I forget, why?" "Well, I've been on the net chatting with a guy in Charlotte, he wants to talk with you."

"What did you tell him?" She asked with real concern.

"Everything."

She didn't say anything for several seconds, then she asked, "Does he know who we are?"

"Only our first names and that we live in Phoenix."

"But you said that if he calls he can cross-check our telephone number with our address and then know everything. 

"He doesn't expect to talk on the phone, just for you to chat on the computer with him."

"He must be stupid, he wouldn't be able to know who he was even talking to."

"That's true, but, for some reason I can't explain, I trust this guy and I think he's for real. He seems to trust me too. He asked about photos of you and I told him if I had any I wouldn't send them anyway. Seemed to do the trick."

"Do you want me to chat with him?" She asked already knowing what my answer would be.

"You know I do."

"What did he tell you about himself?"

"He's older, I think he said 55, 6'3" weighs about 250."

"He's almost as old as my dad." She said and continued, "Sounds fat to me."

I paused then added, "He's black."

There wasn't any response so I went on. "Said he used to drive a truck."

"Is he retired?"

"Not exactly, sort of changed his career," I offered.

"What does he do now?" She asked softly.

"He runs a whorehouse."

Silence again as this registered. "Let me get this straight: You've been chatting with this guy who lives back east a fat, old, black pimp who runs a whorehouse. You've told him about us and your fantasy and now you want me to get on the computer and chat with him. Is that right? You better tell me exactly what you really want to happen."

"Well, I want you to chat with him, see how it goes."

"That's not what I mean Danny and you know it." She interrupted and raised her voice. "What do you want to happen after I chat with him?"

"Let's see what happens Cher," was may lame non-answer to her question.

"Damn it! Do you want me to go to Charlotte, or not? Do you want me to spend the weekend there?" She nearly shouted her questions at me.

"Yes, that's what I want you to do. Is that what you want to do?"

"Oh no you don't, Dan. This wasn't ever my idea."

What could I say? I didn't say anything for a minute then I put my salesman's hat back on and said, "he's waiting for you."

"Tell me how to do it."

I gave her instructions, the net wasn't her thing. I warned her that it might be hard to get in because it could be very busy this time of night. Then, I knew I couldn't avoid telling her what Thomas handle was. "He has logged in as ‘pimp4wwife,' and you are supposed to log in as ThomasWW."

She asked me the same question that I had asked Thomas, "and what does WW mean?"

"White whore."

Silence again as everything that had transpired in the last few minutes registered. Then, "okay, shall I call you when I've finished?"

"Ya, I'm in room 745."

"I love you Danny," she said almost desperately.

I paused for moment letting the enormity of where this could lead sink in before saying,"I love you too Cher," and then she was gone, replaced by the hum of the dial tone.

I thought I detected a trace of excitement in her voice.

At 11:00, I telephoned home and the line was busy. We didn't have "call waiting" so she was obviously still on the Internet. I tried again at 11:30, it was still busy. Fifteen minutes later the phone in my room rang.

"Hi honey," I greeted, trying to seem cool.

"Hi yourself." She said softly.

"How'd it go?" I asked. 

"Okay, I guess. We chatted on the Internet and then I called this number he gave me and we've been on the telephone for the last half hour."

"What? You telephoned him. I thought we agreed we wouldn't do that."

"Like you said Danny, you trust him. After chatting for nearly an hour, I decided I trusted him too. He didn't ask for our number but volunteered his. He said he didn't have caller ID. Anyway, what's done is done."

"So, what now?" I wanted to know.

"What time do you get in tomorrow night?" She asked.

"6:15, on Delta."

"Ironic isn't it? You get home tomorrow on Delta, I leave the next morning at 9:15 on the same airline for Charlotte. You said you can get me a ticket with your frequent flyer points didn't you? Anyway, he went ahead and made a reservation on flight 308 through Atlanta while we were talking. I arrive in Charlotte at 4:57 Friday evening. "

There was a lump in my throat, my mouth was dry. Did I hear what I thought I heard?

"So that means you're going to do it?"

"I promised him I would," she said matter of factly. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I guess it is. It's all happening so fast. What did you talk about?"

"Let's see, really everything. He asked so many questions, questions I've never been asked or even thought about before."

"Where are you?" I wanted to know.

"In bed, all snuggled up. Why?" She teased.

"What do you have on?"

"Let's see, my nail polish, wedding ring and perfume, what's left of it. Danny, I know you're probably "frisky" and want to talk, but Thomas wants you to call him. It's nearly two in the morning on the east coast . . . do you want to talk with him?"

"I guess I should," I acknowledged. She gave me a number which I wrote down.

"I'm really tired honey. I love you. See you tomorrow." She said before clicking off.

Nervously, I punched in the numbers, my credit card number and waited. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hello,"boomed a deep voice with a southern drawl.

"Thomas?"

"Hey, must be Dan," he said.

"Yes it is, how'd it go?"

"I gotta ask ya man, is Cheryl for real? I mean, she's got the most beautiful voice and after she warmed up, I never, never talked with a sexier woman. Does she really look the way you described her? I mean, she described herself to me too, but fuck, this seems too good to be true. I'm holding my cock, ain't still hard though but sure is swollen got cum all over my hand don't want to ever let go, fraid if I do I just might wake up and find I been dreamin." He rambled.

"So how did it go?" I repeated.

"Man, if she's half as good looking as you say, she must be an angel."

"You won't be disappointed, she's better than I said. Sort of a brunette Heather Locklear only better. What did you two talk about and how did you get her to telephone you?"

"What didn't we talk about? Let me ask you straight out, are you going to send her to me on Friday?"

"What did she say about that?" I asked hedging my answer.

"She said she'd come. "

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. 

"Hope she's the kind that keeps her word and not just a fucking cyber tease. I've had my fill of those."

"Thomas I think she'll do it. What else?"

"I told her to shave her twat, just leave a little hair above the snatch but the lips have to be baby bare. Also I had to make sure that she wasn't having her period or that it wouldn't start while she's here. Let's see? Oh, ya, finally, I told her that she couldn't fuck you tomorrow night when you get home. You'll both have to wait until Sunday night, that is, if she's in any shape to handle one more by then. Hope that's cool with you."

Everything was coming at me so fast. This wasn't fantasizing anymore, now it was real. Here was a guy talking about my wife's period, her vagina and he knew what she called her most private parts.

"Oh couple more things," he went on, "I told her to paint her toe nails and finger nails bright red but to dress like a lady for the flight. I guarantee when you pick her up she won't look like or be a lady anymore, she'll be a ho for black cock. If that ain't okay with you, if that ain't really what you want you better fucking tell me right now cause I'm gonna put the word out that we'll have fresh meat. Do we have a deal or not?"

"We have a deal," I said finding it difficult to speak with a lump in my throat. 

"Great man. Look, it's late here gotta split, Cheryl's gonna call tomorrow and confirm things.

That night I tossed and turned in the king-size hotel bed in Denver and slept very little. My thoughts were of my wife and her apparent willingness to cooperate and make all this happen. I went about my business the next morning mechanically, almost in a daze. The new salesman asked me a couple of times, "Dan, are you all right?" If I had told him the truth I would have said, "no I'm not all right, something's about to happen that will change my life forever, I don't know if it will be for the better or worse." But, I didn't say anything of the sort. Later, he drove me to the airport. I hardly remember boarding the plane and the flight home.

+++++++++++

When I exited the terminal in Phoenix I saw the Honda parked at the curb as I knew it would be. Cheryl popped the trunk lid and I threw my computer case and carry-on in the trunk as I had many times before. She slid over to the passenger side and leaned towards me and pressed her moist lips to mine after I closed the driver-side door. We both knew that we would be back here in just a few short hours for her flight but neither of us acknowledged it with spoken words. She was wearing sandals and I couldn't help but notice the bright red polish that covered the nails on her pretty toes for the first time. I glanced at her hands and saw that her finger nails were covered in the same bright shade. She was wearing a sun dress and I couldn't help myself from asking, "anything different under your dress?"

"Oh, Thomas must have told you, huh?"

"Well, is there?" I insisted.

"See for yourself," she invited.

I took her up on her invitation, and though I didn't see, I certainly felt. Sure enough, as my exploring hand reached the juncture of her thighs I discovered she wasn't wearing panties and I felt a small tuft of hair above her clit. To help me, she parted her legs as I touched the lips that, for the first time since her puberty, were totally bare of hair, soft as velvet and very wet.

"Well?"

"God Cheryl, you look and feel great. I can't wait until we get home."

"Danny, Thomas asked me not to have sex tonight. Can we wait until I return on Sunday?" To make sure my ego wasn't bruised she quickly added, "I want you too baby but I told him I'd wait. You're my husband though and I've never turned you down before, it's up to you."

"If we are really going to do this we might as well do it his way." I paused and looked intently into her eyes before asking, "Are we really going to do this Cheryl?"

"I guess we are," she said softly as she lowered her eyes. 

During the short ride home we were both lost in our private thoughts. Like I said before, I didn't get much sleep that night. This morning I watched her dress and then, poof, she's gone and won't be back for two days. 

When I snapped out of my revery and looked at my computer screen I saw, PRIVATE FOR CherylsHub: Hey man, you there?" The message came from "whitehubby." I saw that he had sent three other messages while I had been lost in my private memories of the last two days.

"Sorry, I'm here, this is Dan." I typed back.

"Nice to meet you Dan, where's Cheryl?"

"That's a very good question. The simple truth is she's on a plane that will be landing in Dallas in . . . " I looked at my watch and then typed, "about fifteen minutes."

"Why is she going to Dallas?"

"Only to change planes. She's going on to Charlotte to meet someone."

"Who?"

"A black man named Thomas who's going to have her for the weekend."

"Are you serious?" He questioned.

"Absolutely!"

"God, I wish that was my wife, Peggy. Been working on her for five years. No luck."

"Don't give up," I encouraged. This is a first for Cheryl, as a matter of fact she's never been to bed with anyone but me."

"How did you get her to do it?" he asked.

For the next several minutes I related our history and brought him up to the moment before typing, "Got to run, she should be calling any minute if the plane's on time."

++++++++++

It was a long half hour before the phone finally rang. 

The caller ID revealed that the call was placed from the 404 area code, that had to be Atlanta and Cheryl. "Hi hon, thought you must have landed quite a while ago."

"We did. I walked to the gate for the Charlotte flight and checked in before I called. I only have a few minutes before we leave, they're boarding first class now."

"How was your flight?" I asked.

"It was okay, time for a lot of thinking."

"You still okay with this. You don't have to do it you know."

"I know I don't and I'll admit I'm really scared. I won't lie to you, I walked past a gate that was boarding a flight to Phoenix and I sure thought about stopping to see if there was a seat available." She paused for a moment before continuing, " of course, I'm afraid, who wouldn't be? But I'm also excited. Since you said you didn't think I had the ‘guts' to do what those other women do, I've thought a lot about it. No, I'm going to get on the plane unless you tell me not to." She paused waiting for my response. I didn't say anything. " If you want me to, I'll call you from Charlotte."

"Of course I want you to call me."

She seemed to sigh before saying, "I love you Danny."

"I love you too Cher," was all I could get out before she hung up."

Time seemed to pass as slowly as it did the night before Christmas when I still believed in Santa Claus. I went to the store and bought groceries for a couple of days. Later, I tried watching TV. Minutes seemed like hours. With each passing minute I knew she was getting closer to Charlotte. Charlotte, where Thomas was waiting. I had never been to Charlotte and, as I said earlier, neither had Cheryl. Charlotte, the place where Cheryl would give herself to another man for the first time. Charlotte, where later she would lay under other men. How many? Five, ten, fifty? I didn't know. Charlotte, where she would sleep, or would she? Charlotte, where she would meet new people. What kind of people? Would they be dangerous? I realized that it was a little late to worry about her safety. I had placed her in this compromising situation. Would I regret it? I hoped I wouldn't.

The ringing telephone was a welcome interruption to my second guessing, "will you accept a collect call from Cheryl?" Questioned the operator.

"Yes . . . Hi baby," I greeted.

"Hi yourself," she responded.

"Was he there?" I wanted to know.

"Oh yes. He's in the restroom . . . I think to give us some privacy. He insisted that I call you to let you know everything was okay."

"What's he like?"

"He seems nice. I think he's a little older than he told you. He's huge, shaved head and black as coal. Oh, here he comes now."

Then I heard his voice, the same one I had heard for the first time night before last ask in the background, "Is that Danny, honey?" And she said "yes." "Can I talk to him?" He asked her. She didn't respond but must have handed him the receiver.

"Hey man, you said she was very beautiful, you didn't tell me she was the most beautiful woman in the whole-fucking world."

"Thanks Thomas, about that you and I agree."

Then he must have cupped the mouthpiece as he lowered his voice and said, "if she fucks half as good as she looks I ain't gonna let her come back." Then realizing I might take him serious he said, "just shittin ya." 

"Take good care of her Thomas," was all I could say which seemed very inadequate. 

"Hey Danny boy, I'm gonna put her back on." Very quietly he tried to enlist me as a conspirator by saying, "when she comes on I want you to tell her to let me kiss her right here in public and squeeze her tits and feel her ass. That would be a good start for tonight doncha think?"

"She'll never go for that, but its worth a try."

Then she was back. "Thomas said you wanted to tell me something."

"I want you to kiss him and don't resist or make a scene if he tries to feel you up." I expected a response but all I heard was a muffled mmmmm and several seconds of silence. I said "Cheryl? Did he kiss you?" 

"Oh yes and not like a brother. He also squeezed my boobs and bottom. Well, I guess we better go. He said we have to stop by a place that closes at 8:00."

"Are you wet?" I questioned.

"Very, but also very afraid."

When I asked "are you still okay with this?" It sounded feeble, even to me.

"I guess so," was her response without conviction.

"Do you think that within a couple of hours he will have fucked you?"

"Probably sooner than that. Now let me ask you a question, are you still okay with this?"

I paused for a few seconds before answering, "yes I am."

"Are you hard?"

"As hard as stone."

"Good. And after Thomas finishes with me, then what?"

"You know."

"I want you to say it Danny," she insisted. 

"Okay, I want you to be with the others."

"Don't you mean fuck his customers?" She whispered.

I hesitated for just a moment knowing that there would be no turning back before saying, "yes, that's exactly what I want you to do."

" Wait a minute. Thomas wants to say something else to you. Talk to you later, love you." She was gone before I could tell her I loved her too.

"Hey Danny boy. You didn't tell me that kissing Cheryl is better than fucking most women. Her ass and tits are firm. I can't wait to see them. Don't worry about a thing. I put the word out the last couple of days up and down the Interstate. The black truckers know there's fresh married stuff at Thomas' place. Should be a busy weekend. Might even break the record. I'll have her call you about noon tomorrow after she's had some rest, that okay with you?"

"Hold on, what's the record?" I wanted to know.

"Let's see . . . it was twenty-two, no twenty-three the second night the school teacher from Raleigh worked." He answered matter-of-factly.

"How many women working tonight?"

"Sorry, thought you understood, only Cheryl. Gotta run man, first date will be there at 8:00. Don't call em appointments or tricks or John's, just dates. Gotta sample the merchandise . . . ha ha ha, talk to you tomorrow. Hey, thanks for the loan of your wife." 

Those were his final words, then silence. I didn't hang up the phone until the familiar recorded voice said, "If you would like to make a call, please hang up." 

The mother of our children, my wife of nearly sixteen years was in North Carolina, a continent away, about to fulfill a fantasy that had become an obsession of mine for years. It was nearly 6:00 p.m. in Charlotte, 4:00 p.m. here in Phoenix. I wouldn't talk with Cheryl again for another 18 hours or see her for 48 hours. The waiting would be excruciating. I imagined her as she allowed Thomas to kiss her in the airport and then place his black hand on her ass and squeeze her breasts. 

I knew that they were probably in his vehicle. I didn't know if it was a pick-up truck or a car, old or new. I didn't know exactly where they were going from the airport. He said they had to make a stop and then I remembered what he said on the phone when I called him from Denver that he would get her some "frilly things" which I took to mean lingerie. 

I didn't know anything about the whorehouse, though I was certain it wasn't upscale considering his clientele. It was dawning on me how much I didn't know about Cheryl's adventure and circumstances. All of a sudden, the lack of sleep and tension overcame me, I was totally exhausted. I stripped naked and climbed between the cool sheets that covered our bed and almost instantly drifted off to into a deep, dreamless sleep.




Cheryl's Trip



I awoke with a start and looked at the clock on the night stand. I was very surprised to see the bright red numbers display 9:00. I had been sleeping for four hours that meant it was midnight in Charlotte. The phone hadn't rung once or, if it had, I hadn't heard it. Four hours had vanished. What had Cheryl been doing during that time? Of course, she had been with Thomas. Her first "date" would have arrived hours ago. I had no idea how far apart they were scheduled. I had no idea who the faceless strangers were. How many men had been with her since then? I would have to wait until tomorrow to learn the answers to these questions.

I won't bore you with the details of how I spent my time. I will tell you, however, that the garage has never been cleaner. My side of the closet and the drawers of my dresser never better organized. I actually completed my monthly call and expense reports before they were due, probably cause my boss to have a heart attack. 

But never far from my consciousness were my thoughts of Cheryl. I visualized her laying on her back stark naked with her legs spread wide and between them the back of a black man. I imagined her enthusiastic movements and sighs, moans and urging. I was certain that the vein on the side of her neck would be swollen and her toes curled as she climaxed which she did with me almost constantly when we made love. I could only imagine the intensity with bigger cocks and men with much greater endurance and then fresh inventory of rock-hard cocks, not a spent one which she invariably tried to resurrect when we made love. I could almost see her hands grip the black ass of her date with her wedding band sparkling in the dim light. During the night I awoke when I felt something sticky on my stomach and realized that I had a wet dream for the first time since we married.

I waited anxiously for the call from Cheryl the next day. Thomas had said noon. I didn't ask if he meant noon there, which would be only nine here, or noon here. When nine o'clock came and went I thought he must have meant noon in Phoenix. But, when the phone rang a little before ten I was surprised to hear his voice, not Cheryl's on the other end. 

He spoke so softly I could hardly understand him, "Hey Danny boy, I told ya I'd have er call but I don't want to wake her, she really needs er rest."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Right here in bed, dead to the world been sleeping like an angel for a few hours."

"Well tell me what happened."

"That's not for me to say man, she's the one gotta tell ya. I will say I ain't never seen nothin, nothin like it before. She's just the very best. You're the luckiest guy on the fuckin planet man. But I can see why ya wanted her to do it, she's gotta be the hottest babe, by far, I've ever fucked or even heard about. She broke the teachers record and that was on a Friday night not a Saturday. Saturday's always much bigger n Friday. I better be quiet so she can get er sleep, she's sure gonna need it. You better rest up yerself for her return."

With that the line went dead. The reality of what he just said hit me like a truck. "She broke the record!" That meant that Cheryl, sweet innocent Cheryl, wife, mom, PTA, Churchgoing Cheryl had fucked more than twenty-three men, more than twenty-three black men, more than twenty-three black men for money. There was so much I wanted to know. But I would have to wait the rest of today, tonight, tomorrow and then she would be back. I could hardly wait. It seemed clear to me that Thomas had no intention of calling me again and I assumed, for some reason, that Cheryl wouldn't either.

The reverse of what happened two days ago brought me back to the same concourse at Sky Harbor Airport. I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to be in position at the window near her arrival gate. I saw the plane touch down and a puff of smoke as the wheels of the jet connected with the concrete runway. I was nervous as I moved over to a position where I could watch the passengers leave the jet way and enter the concourse. I knew she was seated in row nineteen and that it would be a few minutes before I would see her. 

I was oblivious to the meetings of others, waiting only for my Cheryl. Then she was there. More than two days had elapsed since I saw her. I couldn't believe my eyes. Gone was the stylish suit. Gone were the black pantyhose, gone were the patent leather pumps. They were replaced with: a skimpy black dress that fell to mid-thigh, with straps over each bare shoulder—it looked more like a slip than a dress and more suitable for the evening than for traveling. Her beautiful long legs were bare, on her feet were a pair of high heel sandals with just heel and toe straps. The stiletto heels must have been five inches tall. Around her right ankle was a thin gold bracelet. Over her bare shoulder was a black leather tote bag. It was obvious to me and anyone else who looked—and I observed that included everyone—that she was naked under her dress. Her nipples, never very prominent before poked at the thin fabric, even the tuft above her mound was detectable if you looked closely and this dress was designed to encourage a close examination. Gone was the businesswoman's conservative hairdo. Now, it was more like a wild mane that framed her face which was more heavily made up than I had ever seen it before. I heard a sailor who was standing behind me catch his breath when he saw her.

She stopped a few feet from me. It seemed to me as if she saw herself as the prodigal wife uncertain if she would be welcomed home by her husband or rejected by him for what she had done. I smiled and held out the single red rose that had been hidden behind my back. She smiled in return and quickly closed the space that separated us. Her breasts were crushed against my chest. Our lips met but hers somehow felt different as her saliva mingled with mine. Her perfume was different and much bolder and sexier than the subtle fragrance she wore when she departed. 

"Welcome home Cheryl, I missed you more than you will ever know," was my feeble greeting.

She looked into my eyes and said, "I love you Danny, I missed you too."

I took her tote bag, then we laced our fingers together and squeezed tightly as we headed for the parking garage. During this trip home her beautiful bottom was sitting on the seat that had been vacant on Friday. She was careless with her dress and it rode up almost to her crotch. She noticed me staring at her thighs and just gave me a knowing smile but she didn't say a word.

Before we turned down our street I said, "Thomas predicted that when you returned you would be sore but smiling."

"I'm smiling, but not sore," she teased.

Then, we were home. The time while we had been apart was plodding, now that we were together, for me at least, it was racing. We were in our bedroom kissing again. She was lifting my shirt off and trying to undo my belt at the same time. I was naked except for my socks and soon she was too. I don't know what I expected, marks, welts, hickey's, bruises other telltale signs of her activities on her body. If there were any, I didn't see them. What was noticeably different were her nipples and the pebbly areola that surrounded them. They were hard and twice the size that they had ever been. Also, her skin seemed to have a glow about it that I didn't remember. Then, without a word, we were on our bed. I always loved to eat her before entering her warm wet pussy but today I didn't and then I was in her to the hilt. There was a change in her body other than her nipples but it wasn't detectable from the outside. Her pussy, however, felt very different. It was wetter, hotter and actually seemed tighter, I expected it to feel looser. I assumed that it was swollen.

"Oh baby, fuck me, fuck my cunt," was her plea. 

I didn't want to cum so soon but I couldn't help it. Even though I had masturbated several times while she was away, in a matter of seconds I felt myself on the edge and realized I was too far gone to stop. I shot a blast of come deep inside her clasping vagina that was by far the most intense climax of my life. "I'm sorry," I apologized when I could speak.

"Oh baby, don't be sorry."

For a few minutes neither of us said anything. It seemed to me as if we were sharing a common heart and breathing as one. My flaccid cock was still inside her but just barely. Then, something that never happens, or at least hadn't in many years, caught me by surprise, I was getting hard again. I realized that I had been thinking about Cheryl doing the same thing with other men while she was gone and it reignited my ardor. She grabbed the cheek of my ass with one hand and the index finger on her other hand played with my asshole. She scooped up some of my cum that was oozing from her pussy and moistened her finger and began to worm it past the sphincter. This was something she had never done to me before and had obviously learned during her visit to Charlotte. Then she kissed me while at the same time she began to move slowly. This time I lasted longer, much longer. She stopped kissing and put her wet lips to my ear and said, "does all this turn you on? Are you glad your wife is a whore? Do you want to know how many other cocks have plunged this pussy since you were in here last?"

"Oh, God yes!" I screamed as I shuddered and emptied inside her for the second time in less than a half hour.

As I came so did she. I thought her orgasm, which was always intense, was even more so. We were both covered in a sheen of sweat. Her hair was actually wet. After resting for a few minutes with her head on my shoulder she giggled and asked, "wow, what's gotten into you?"

"No the question's what's gotten into you?"

She reached over me and turned on the lamp at my side of the bed. Propped herself up on one elbow starred at me for a long time before asking. "Are you ready to hear about my trip now?" Then she looked away and asked so softly I could hardly hear, "Do you think you can take it?" 

"Yes and yes."

+++++++++++

She climbed out of bed and padded barefoot over to the tote bag. She bent over at the waist rather than crouching—giving me a perfect view of her wet pussy and little asshole—as she picked up the bag. When she turned around, she gave me a little smile brought the bag to the side of our bed hopped on the bed, got comfortable sitting cross-legged like an Indian squaw, facing me. Then she asked, "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"You know Cher. How many, how big, how long did they last, were they all black and how did you feel about it?" I blurted out.

"Well, let's see, fifty-two, huge, until they came—usually fifteen minutes to half an hour—and yes everyone was black. The statistics are the easy part. How I felt and feel about it, well, that can't be answered so easily." 

My God! She broke the teacher's record on Friday and then her own on Saturday. She sure made up for all of those lost years of fidelity which, in some perverse way, was one of my goals. 

"I learned over the past two days Danny that you knew me far better than I knew myself. At least, a part of me that I didn't even know existed before. Oh, I guess for the last few months I had an inkling that there was a side of me that I had repressed. Let's see, where should I start? Oh, wait a minute." She leaned over, reached in the tote bag, took out a bundle and tossed it to me.

What landed on my stomach was a stack of bills with a rubber band around it. I saw that the top bill was $100. I fanned the stack and saw that all of the bills were $100's.

"Almost three thousand dollars." Was her answer to the question that I hadn't asked but wanted to.

It was only then that the enormity of what had happened sunk in. I hadn't been there. I was detached from it. What I was holding in my hand, however, was the irrefutable evidence that it had actually happened. I didn't know what else was in the bag but I was quite sure I would soon find out.

Cheryl interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Danny we both know that the beginning wasn't when I got on the plane or even when you asked me to chat with Thomas. No, it was earlier than that. After all, I'm only human and you had been pestering me for years no matter how firmly I resisted. Then, that night—I'll never forget that night—when you said I didn't have the guts to do it! Well, that was the final straw. Had you not connected with Thomas on the Internet in that gross chat room, something else would have happened. I was ready! Ready for what I asked myself? 

She paused bit her lower lip and continued, "let's see? Thomas asked me to describe myself when I logged on the computer that night. My God! It's hard to believe that was less than a week ago." She exclaimed in amazement. "Well . . . anyway, I told him how tall I was, how much I weighed, stuff like that. I wasn't surprised when he wanted to know my measurements. But, then he asked for my: dress size, shoe size and ring size. I didn't even know my ring size but I told him 6 for dresses, 8A for most of my shoes. He surprised me when he asked what size pantyhose do you wear? I told him "B" tall. Then I asked him why in the world did he want to know that?"

"He typed LOL, which he said was laughing-out-loud, then explained it assured him I was a woman. He said lot's of men pretend to be a woman on the Internet. Also, the size of the pantyhose confirmed my other measurements. I realized he was smarter than I expected him to be and that, obviously, it wasn't the first time he had done something like this. Then he asked me how I felt about flying to Charlotte for the weekend. I explained that this was so sudden I'd have to get used to the idea. He asked a lot of questions about our sex life. A lot of questions about me and my preferences. How old was I when I first french kissed, 15. How old was I when I got felt up outside my clothes, also 15. Bare breasts, 16. Had my pussy touched, outside my clothes, 17. Had my pussy touched bare, 18. First intercourse, 18. First orgasm, 18. First time eaten, 18. First blow job, 19. First anal, 30. Did I use vibrators? Yes! Did I like them? Oh, Yes! Well we chatted and then he said he wanted me to call him on the telephone. I told him we had agreed that we wouldn't do that. He sweet-talked me for a while and I finally agreed to call him. I copied down his number, logged off the computer and went back into the bedroom and called him from the telephone on your side of the bed.

Within in a few minutes of him answering the phone on the first ring, he was telling me that my voice was beautiful and sexy and that he had a hard-on. Stuff like that. He asked me what I was wearing and I told him a T-shirt and panties. He said, "take them off." Dan I really didn't think about it for a second, I just stripped off the Shirt and whisked down my beige panties. He asked me to touch myself. My breasts, my nipples my tummy, that's what he said, and then my hair. After a few minutes he asked me to use my vibrator. Again, I didn't think twice, I just rolled over to my side of the bed reached under my pillow and turned it on. I placed it down on the outside of my lips because you know how sensitive I am down there and had to wait for a minute or two before I put it near my clitty. "Let me hear it," was Thomas' next request. I placed the receiver on my tummy, like I had for you before, and knew that he could hear the sounds of the vibrator and even my own "squishiness" because I was sooo wet.

I was so hot that it didn't take long for me to reach my first climax. I know that he must have heard my moaning and gasps for air. I don't remember saying anything. Anyway, after I calmed down we talked some more and he got really intimate. "Are you nips swollen?" Yes. "Is your little clit hard?" It is. "Is it sensitive?" Yes. "Are you wet?" Very. "Do you want to fuck my big black dick?" That question didn't get the instant response that the others did. I actually was caught off-guard by the question and tried to be coy by answering, "I don't know." He laughed and said, "sure you want to fuck me and all my friends, too." 

"Look Cheryl, your voice is wonderful if you look anything like Dan and you described the bros will go crazy for you. Will you promise me that you'll at least fly here and give it a try?" The smooth talker went on, "if Dan can get you a ticket on points, whata got to lose. It's a chance for you to get away for a weekend, see a part of the country you've never seen before and do some things that you've never done before. Nobody but us will ever know about it. I'll make all the arrangements, all you have to do is get on the airplane, stay here for a couple of days and get back on the airplane for home on Sunday." There was a long silence then he asked, "how about it, I really want to meet you?" 

He didn't wait for me to answer but said, "we don't even know if you can get a reservation for this weekend. I know a site on the Internet that I can check and see if there's something available. Dan said his points are on Delta, is that right?"

This was certainly moving faster than I thought it would but I acknowledged and confirmed, "yes, Delta."

"Hang on for a sec honey." It didn't seem like much time had passed when he was back on the line. "Delta has a flight leaving Phoenix Friday morning at 9:15. You'd have a connection in Atlanta and arrive here at 4:57 that evening. They also have a return Sunday afternoon that will get you home that evening. Should I make the reservations?"

I guess with all major decisions there are moments of truth, not just one. After you told me I didn't have the guts to do what those other women did I was determined to prove to you that I did. And then at the airport the morning before you flew to Denver when you asked me if you should set something up, that was also a moment of the truth. Then when Thomas asked if he should make a reservation that was the real moment of truth, or so I thought at the time. My feeble answer was the same one I gave you at the airport when you asked if you should set something up, "okay."

"Okay baby, I need your last name and then Dan will have to work out the stuff with the points, what's yer last name hon?"

"Williams." Now I knew we weren't anonymous any longer. Thomas knew we lived in Phoenix that we were Dan and Cheryl Williams and that he had just been given permission to make a reservation for me to fly to Charlotte on Friday. I wondered if I should have checked with you first but of course I didn't. 

"Okay, I'll take care of it, hang on again honey." This time it seemed to take a little longer but soon he was back and said, "It's all done Cheryl, take this down. You depart on Delta flight 308 and change planes in Atlanta to flight 455. I'll meet your flight in Charlotte. You okay with this?"

"I guess so," 

"Look Cheryl, seems like you ain't so sure. I told Dan about this gal that works for me, a school teacher from Raleigh. She can't work right now, some kind a female thing but why doncha give her a call. She's married, real pretty, her husband's like Dan, it was his idea. They both just love it. Write down this number and call her tomorrow. Too late now." He gave me a number and I wrote on the pad below his.

"So honey, have Dan give me a call. 

You know the rest. The next day, I didn't call the school teacher in Raleigh but I did paint my nails and went through nearly everything in my closet trying to decide what to wear. I settled on the suit that I wore at my sister's wedding. It seemed appropriate if he wanted me to look like a professional woman. I guess that has two meanings now. When I took my bath before I got dressed to pick you up at the airport, I carefully shaved the hair around my vagina and shaved the hair off my pussy lips. To keep my skin smooth, I rubbed lotion on the area that was now hairless. Anyway, the day was busy. That night I was soooo hot I really wanted to make love to you but I agreed that I wouldn't and I knew we could both wait for a couple of more days.




Cheryl's Trip



The airplane trip to Atlanta was strange. I wondered if I would really go through with what I had promised you and Thomas. At Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta, I didn't have nearly as much time as I thought I would have. I had to change concourses and took the escalator and then the train. Then I called you before I boarded. From Atlanta to Charlotte I realized that the physical part of what I was planning to do would not be nearly as difficult as the emotional, the moral part. How could I break our vows? I remembered that you said oh, this is okay if it's okay with you. But, you're not me. I had certain values. I was raised a certain way. I believed that doing something like this was a moral sin, a terrible sin. Would I feel guilty? Would I bring home some horrible disease? Was Thomas some kind of nut? Would I be hurt or even killed?

However, what haunted me the most was wondering how you would feel about me after. Remember in school how the girls who put out thought they had to because that was the only way they would be loved. They were wrong, as everyone knows, and they weren't loved, they were ridiculed and even pitied. The guys who said they loved them never did after they got them to drop their panties. That's what I was wondering about. Did you really want me to do this? I knew that you had said you did and I thought you probably did, but what if you couldn't deal with the reality of it? What if you no longer saw me as your wife but as a whore? Would fulfilling your fantasy backfire on me? Would you hate me? Before the plane landed at Charlotte Douglas International Airport I knew that these troubling questions couldn't be answered. The only way I would ever know would be to do it and then find out what the answer was. Sounds dumb now but that was my rationalization.

After we talked with you on the phone from the airport, he took my hand and we walked down the concourse. Believe me I was certainly aware of the looks from everyone. Whether black or white I sensed that most disapproved of this much younger white woman walking hand in hand with a black man who by his attire screamed to everyone who saw him that he was a black pimp. He wore dark glasses, like pilots wear, kind of mirrored, a purple silk shirt unbuttoned nearly to his waist and black slacks. His head was shaved and he had a ring in each ear lobe. Two thick gold chains were nestled in his kinky grey chest hair. We must have been a real sight. Even though I don't think I looked like one, I'm sure most of those who starred at us thought I was his whore.

It was warm and sultry when we walked out of the terminal and crossed the street to the garage. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he proudly opened the passenger door of a black Lincoln town car with dark tinted windows. You know I'm not very good at guessing about cars but I think this one was maybe ten years old. I thought that he must have spent some time that day—or paid someone to do it for him—washing, polishing the outside and cleaning the inside of the car. After he got in the driver's side, he pulled me over and gave me another kiss. This time we weren't in a brightly lit airport terminal with passengers milling about but in a dark garage. It went on forever. I had a hard time catching my breath. "Welcome to Charlotte, Cheryl. Are you ready to start?" He asked while we were still parked in the huge dark garage.

"Start what?" I asked.

"Changing from a mom and wife from the west into my whore in the east."

He didn't wait for me to answer but said, "let your hair down." I did what he asked and then shook my head. I knew I should brush it but I just looked at him. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed. "Are you wearing pantyhose or stockings?" He asked.

"They're pantyhose." 

"Take em off," he said matter of factly and then leaned back in the corner of his seat and the driver's door and seemed to challenge me with his look.

I waited a few minutes and realized that there wasn't a modest way to do it. My skirt was tight and higher than mid-thigh when I was sitting down, nevertheless, I slipped off my high heels sat facing the glove compartment and reached under the hem. It was a struggle but I grabbed the elastic waist lifted up off the black leather seat and began to pull them down. Finally they were off. Don't ask me why, but I balled them up and threw them to him. He laughed as he caught them and then buried his nose in them and said, "aaaaagh my favorite smell." I'm sure I was red as a beet with embarrassment. "Are you wearing panties?" he asked.

"Of course I am."

"Take them off too." I didn't hesitate very long and reached under my skirt again and hooked my thumbs in the sides of my black sheer panties and whisked them down my bare legs. These too I tossed to Thomas who once again held them up to his nose and inhaled my aroma. I couldn't see his eyes because of the mirrored sun glasses but by the way he threw his head back I assumed they were closed as he completed the ritual. I hadn't bothered pulling my skirt down and from where he sat if he had looked down he could have seen nearly all the way to the juncture of my thighs and what was between them.

I saw him fiddling in his lap and then heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down. In the quiet of the car, quiet except for our breathing, the sound of the zipper clasp passing over each tiny metal tooth seemed far louder to me than it must have actually been. He reached towards me with his right hand and said, "come over here to me baby." I slid across the seat, the bare skin of my ass touching the black leather. Again he kissed me deeply and for a long time. I opened my mouth and accepted his tongue. He must have smoked because he tasted like I remembered you tasted years ago before you quit. You know how hot I get when we kiss, well Thomas was a world-class kisser and made me hotter than I've ever been by just kissing. Before we broke the kiss he took my hand and guided it to his lap. Somehow during the kiss he must have released his cock because that's what my hand touched. Without being asked, I put my fingers around the throbbing shaft and was surprised to realize that it was so thick they wouldn't connect. As I moved my hand up and down exploring only the second cock I had ever touched, it dawned on me that Thomas hadn't exaggerated when he said he was ten inches. I just didn't know how big that was. 

I was surprised when he started pulling my head down and even more surprised when he said, "suck me Cheryl." My hand was on the head of his cock which was leaking and slick. I could hardly breathe but I gave in to the gentle pressure of his hand on the back of my neck that was guiding me lower and lower until my lips came in contact with the wet flesh of this black stranger. I actually placed little closed-mouth kisses on the head and up and down the shaft before I opened my mouth, opened it very wide to accommodate it and took in just the huge slimy head. It was so big and my mouth was open so wide that my jaws actually hurt till I adjusted and became used to the monstrous size. Then I started going up and down like you had taught me until he hit the back of my throat. He was excited and pushed until I almost gagged and then he backed-off an inch or two.

I shouldn't have been surprised to feel his left hand on my bare leg. I knew that it would start inching up and it did. Finally with my mouth full of this black cock, the finger tips of a large black hand touched me where only you and my doctors had touched before. As the fingers found my wet slit and parted it, I thought I would climax. Then, when they lightly touched my swollen clit, I did and moaned a muffled sound around his cock. I had to breathe through my nose which didn't give me enough air and once again I seriously thought I would pass out. I moved up and down with that sucking method you taught me honey and probed the little hole at the end of his penis with my tongue. I swirled my tongue all the way around his glans that was like the edge of a little helmet, I guess not so little really. About then Thomas said, "Oh little darlin you are one great cock-sucker. But ya better stop or I'll cum right now in yer mouth and, guess what, I don wanna cum the first time with you in your mouth but in your cunt."

He started the car and we backed out, paid for the parking, left the garage and were soon heading down the highway.

He put his arm around me and I laid my head on his shoulder. We didn't speak much. He asked if I was hungry. I told him I had picked at my food on the flight and really didn't think I could eat. I had a few minutes to sort-out my feelings. Here I was with a black man whose huge cock I had been sucking moments before. My skirt was hiked up nearly to my waist and my vagina could easily be seen illuminated by the lights from the dash of the big car. Had he not stopped me I would have sucked him until he shot off. Did I feel guilty? I wasn't sure but I don't think I did feel guilty. I realized that I had wanted to make him cum, I had wanted to satisfy this stranger whom I didn't love or even know--this black man who only wanted to use me.

I have no idea where we were or even which direction we were driving. I was lost in my thoughts when he jarred me back to the present by saying, "here we are sugar." We seemed to be in some kind of strip center. But it was a strange mix of stores. I saw a grocery store, a pawn shop, a XXX adult theater, an adult book store and a bar. He stopped in front of a store with a pink neon sign over the entrance that read, "LORELEE'S LINGERIE." The few people that I saw were all black including the proprietor of the store.

Thomas greeted and introduced me as his "new piece from out west." "She needs a dress and a few things for out at the house," he explained to Lorelee who must have been about Thomas' age though not quite as big, but almost.

"With her body, I got jus the thing, come her chil," she said. I followed her over to a rack. "Size six, right?" Without waiting for my reply she took a dress from the rack that looked more like a slip. That's the dress I was wearing when you picked me up at the airport, honey. "You'll look great in that," she said. There was never any suggestion or thought that I would try it on. "Come on, now the stuff fer the house." On some shelves next to a cash register were some lacy things. I couldn't quite tell what they were until she held it up, a short red nighty I guess you'd call it. It had spaghetti straps and was so thin you could probably read a newspaper right through it. She didn't ask me but held it up in front of me and asked Thomas, "what ya think man?" 

"Perfect, how about a black and white one too. Also, she needs another pair of shoes. Ya got something hot?" 

Lorelee looked down at my feet and said, "7 ½ narrow, right?" 

"8A," I told her.

Challenging me and said, "ya sure? Looks like a 7 ½ to me. Anyway, got this hot pair that'll look great with yer new dress." She was gone for a minute and came back carrying two shoe boxes under her arm and said, "try on this pair first." They fit perfectly but were higher than any heels I'd ever worn. They were the pair I was wearing when you picked me up, just little nothing straps and these sky-high hooker heels. Lorelee was proud of herself when she announced, "see like I tol ya 7 ½." Thomas peeled off a few bills from a roll and we were off. Again I had no idea where we were going or what direction we were headed. After a few minutes Thomas asked with genuine concern, "how ya doin honey? Ya scared?"

"I'm nervous. This is a real big thing for me Thomas."

"Well, just relax, you'll be great." He didn't understand that I was speaking of my feelings. A few minutes later he said, "let me tell how this works hon. I got me this old motel, just a few cabins, it ain't used no more and it's behind this big truck stop out on I-85. Anyway, the drivers and a few locals know all about it. The guys all want to come to Thomas' place especially when they know we got somethin fresh. I put the word out and it should be purty busy tonight and tomorrow." He was quiet for a minute then said, "open the glove compartment, wouldja?" I slid over and did what he asked. Hand me oneathem papers." 

From the top of a stack of pink sheets that must have been half an inch thick I handed him one. He turned on the overhead handed it to me and said, "whatcha think, baby?" Why wasn't I surprised when Cheryl reached into her tote, retrieved a hot-pink folded paper and handed it to me. When I opened it I read: 

I - 77 & I- 85 Special! Fresh Prime Grade Meat From the West Coast This Weekend Only! Thomas' Place First Cum, First Served!

Cheryl continued with her story by saying, "Thomas said he made sure that all the truckers up and down the interstates got copies and that the word was out about me. I didn't know how I felt but I didn't have long to think about it because Thomas interrupted my thoughts by asking." 

"I think ya can break the teacher's record. Did ya ever call her?"

"No, I didn't. I only had the one day to get ready and I was pretty busy. What record are you talking about?" I questioned.

"Oh the most customers in a single night."

"How many was that?"

"Didn't Dan tell ya? It was 22."

"How many women were working that night?" I asked him.

"Donchu and Dan ever talk? Just the teacher."

"And how many tonight?" I asked though I wasn't really sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"Honey, honey, you know the teacher's not working, there ain't any other women just you."

"Thomas, I don't see how that's even possible. That many men would take longer than all night."

"Lemme explain summpin. The team drivers like to be together, at least some of em do. And lot of the long hauls are teams. The guys get so hot thinking about bein away from the old lady that they go off in bout two seconds. Maybe not two seconds but real real quick. But yer right 22 in a night's a lot. I think tomorrow'll be that busy, maybe more."

I noticed bright lights in the distance. Then, we pulled into a very busy truck stop. He drove through the parking lot to the very back and parked his car in the corner. "Come on baby, we're here," he said as he came around and opened the door for me.

My legs were shaking as I climbed out of the car. Thomas grabbed the bag with the new purchases and I took the bag with my make-up and curlers. He led the way to the corner of a chain-link fence and opened a gate. We crossed what I realized was an abandoned old highway. On the other side was a small motel that must have been built more than fifty years ago. It looked like there must be six or eight cabins and an office at the front. The office had a light burning. The sign on a high pole was hard to read but I saw TRAVELERS HAVEN. I was quite sure that the NO VACANCY sign hadn't been illuminated since the Interstate opened. 

When we entered the office, it was obvious that this was where Thomas' lived. It was small but neater than I expected it to be. Like the car, I sensed that it had been given a cleaning in anticipation of my visit. In the corner of the room I noticed a personal computer, a printer, a scanner and a 17" state-of-the-art monitor. He sort of read my mind by saying, "ain't much but it's home." The cabin next door is yer crib, I mean yer room. It's clean and got all the things ya might need. Wana see it?"

"Okay," this seemed to be my most frequently uttered expression of agreement lately. We walked outside and to the small cabin next door to the office. He opened the door and turned on the light. The room was small and dominated by a double bed with just a white fitted sheet covering it. I was overwhelmed by a dank odor. I believe it must have been a combination of the humidity and then I detected a hint of something that smelled like the boys locker room in high school— when three of us snuck in when we were decorating for the prom—and something else that I couldn't quite place. Then I recognized it Danny, it smelled like your semen. I looked around and saw an old chest of drawers on the far wall and a single chair in the corner. On the dresser was a vase with a dozen red roses in it. The door at the end must have led to the bathroom. 

Thomas confirmed my guess by saying, "that's yer private bathroom through that door. The flowers are fer ya." I was actually touched by the gesture. He was standing behind me and stepped close and put his arms around me. I could feel his cock swelling between the cheeks of my ass. His hands cupped my breasts and gently squeezed them. Then he turned me around and our lips met again. Had he not been holding me so tight I'm sure I would have fallen. This kiss curled my toes. Somehow he started to take off my clothes. My jacket was slipped from my shoulders and placed in the chair. It wasn't long before my blouse joined it. Then the button at the side of my skirt was undone and the zipper lowered. I was standing in this small room naked except for my bra and shoes. I wanted to cover my pubic area but that would have been silly so I didn't give in to the temptation. 

Thomas just starred at me. Then he said, "Cheryl yer the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He stepped close to me and reached behind and deftly unhooked my bra baring my breasts crowned with nipples that I don't remember ever having been more swollen. I felt the back of my legs come in contact with the foot of the bed. He gently lowered me to it. Somehow he undid the few buttons of his silk shirt and added it to the pile of my clothes on the chair. Then he stood up and unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his cock stood proudly out from his body. He dropped his sun glasses on the pile and slipped off his loafers. It, I mean his cock, seemed even larger than when I had stroked it and sucked it in the car. I expected him to put it in but he had other ideas. 

The next thing I knew I was gazing at the top of his bald black head as he dipped between my legs. I felt his lips kiss my lips not the ones on my face but between my legs. His tongue snaked out and cleaved the lips that only you had kissed before. God Danny I thought I would die! He reached up with both hands and pinched a nipple on each breast between his thumb and forefinger and began to roll it around. His tongue bathed my slit from top to bottom. From the hood of my clit to the opening of my soaking pussy then down my taint to my asshole. He made the trip several times. I placed the soles of my bare feet on each of his shoulders and started coming the instant his tongue touched my clit. Then, I became afraid as he took my little clit between his teeth. I thought he might bite it but he was very gentle and somehow sucked it in and with just the slightest contact with this teeth. For all I know I screamed. He just kept it up for several minutes. He looked up at me and smiled his face was soaking with my juices.

Then he kissed my tummy and sucked each nipple until I was constantly moaning. He reached between our bodies and inserted one long black finger in my pussy. I was embarrassed because my pussy seemed to grab and suck his digit in deep. His finger was joined by a second one. He really knew a woman's anatomy, at least mine. He reached up towards the top of my vagina and started to massage my G spot which triggered a nonstop climax that must have lasted for several minutes. Then suddenly he withdrew his fingers.

I never thought I would hear myself utter these words to any man other than you, but I did. I begged him to "fuck me!" Then he was looming over me we kissed and I felt the head of his cock try to enter me. I reached down to guide it in and wondered if I would be able to take it. When the head went in past the glans I swear I heard a plopping sound. Then slowly, so slowly he began to push more and more of the black meat into my pink pussy. He was beyond the depth that you had plumbed and I reached down to feel that there were still three or four inches outside my body. It hurt, but not unbearably. I know my insides were being pushed around by the invader. But I also felt myself adjusting to accommodate the new dimension. And then we were joined. My little tuft of pubic hair mingled with his coarser hair. My pubic bone was separated from his by a thin layer of skin, nothing more. My juices were gushing. Then he started to withdraw until just the head was inside me. He seemed to actually pause at the top of his stroke before ramming forward until our bones touched again. I came and came and came. We must have fucked like this for twenty minutes until he announced the arrival of his climax by screaming, "I'm cumming." I could actually feel the insemination as his semen splashed against my cervix.




Cheryl's Trip



We both just laid there in the afterglow. I didn't know it was possible to experience an orgasm like that. It was so intense. So forbidden. Against everything I had been taught and yet it was thrilling and satisfying beyond my ability to describe. I thought I would be exhausted but I wasn't. I felt alive, I felt young, I felt desirable. He rolled over and said, "You really summin Cheryl. Better get yerself cleaned up and ready. He glanced at his watch and said it's already 9:15." When Becky works, that's the school teacher, she starts much earlier. Those rigs out in the parking area at the truck stop have drivers who set their alarm clocks for their appointment. We got about fifteen minutes before someone knocks on the door. While you freshin up I'm going go next door and get the messages and confirm some of the appointments for after midnight." He hopped out of bed and slipped just his pants on and carried his shirt with him. 

I went in the bathroom and saw on two shelves on one wall more white folded sheets and white folded towels than I've ever seen before. Must have been dozens of each. On the top shelf was a case of disposable douches, a box of fleet enemas—I had an idea what that was for— and a box of "extra large gold seal Maxxim condoms." Honestly, there must have been a gallon of mint mouthwash next to the sink. I douched and then hopped in the shower, careful not to get my hair wet. As I washed myself, especially my breasts and between my legs and cheeks I found myself tingling. After I dried, I reapplied my makeup only this time, for some instinctive reason, I applied it much heavier than ever before. I brushed my long hair and was very pleased with the result that I saw in the mirror. 

Back in the room, I realized that we had made a mess on the bed and went back for a fitted sheet. I stripped the soiled one off and put the clean one on the bed that a few minutes before had been my own playground. Then I slipped the red nighty over my head. My God Dan it didn't even cover my pussy or ass. I think it was actually a top for a set of baby-dolls. Do you remember the set you got for me when we were first married, it was like that top only you could see right through it. Wait let me show you. She retrieved the red nighty from the tote bag, slipped it over her head and turned around to show me that it didn't cover anything, in fact it made her seem sluttier than if she were naked. Maybe that was Thomas' idea.

She went on to explain "I slipped on the new shoes and felt awkward wearing them the heels were so high, much higher than I was used to. Let me put them on so you can see what I looked like." She slipped the heels back on and placed her hands on her hips. She was a living wet dream. I had never seen anything so sexy in my life. Then I realized she had that freshly fucked look. She would also have had the freshly fucked look in Charlotte the first time she wore the nighty and shoes because she had just been fucked by Thomas.

She continued her story by saying, "then I sat in the big chair and waited. It was so quiet but I could hear something, I realized that the walls were so thin I could hear Thomas talking on the telephone. It was hard to understand what he was saying. No, it wasn't a telephone it was a CB because I could hear the other person too. I would hear laughing and then I'm sure I heard him say something like, "you won fuckin believe this chick man. I just got the lay of my life and she's an amateur. I wouldn't shit ya bro her cunt's like a milkin machine and she cums too, no fakin it. Thas right she jus cums and cums ain't no-used up whore like yer used to in Lousiana. She's even so much better'n sweet Becky ya jus won believe her when ya see her and give her a ride. 10-4."

"My cheeks were flushed I was so embarrassed and I regretted eavesdropping on his private conversation. I thought I was like all women. I thought every woman climaxed every time and almost constantly. Honey, I know you told me that wasn't so but I never talked with other women about it and thought you must be wrong or were just trying to make me feel special. I thought every vagina was supposed to suck in the cock and squeeze and milk it, what was the big deal about mine. Of course, like Thomas said, I was an amateur. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and Thomas' voice asking, "you decent baby?" He didn't wait for my answer but opened the door, standing behind him were two policemen. Danny I started to cry. I had only been here for an hour or so and already I thought I was about to be arrested.

Thomas explained things quickly when he saw the color drain from my face as I covered my breasts with one arm and reached to cover my pussy with the other hand. "Cheryl, sugar this here's Clyde," pointing to a huge black man in a khaki uniform about Thomas' age, "this is Jake." Jake was a much younger tall skinny black guy in the same type of uniform that seemed a size too big. "In my line a work it helps to have a good relationship with the law. They like first crack at fresh meat so be real nice to em okay." Those were his parting comments as he backed through the door and closed it. 

"Oh, wait a minute," Cheryl said as she fished in the bag of treasures again. I saw that she held a stack of Polaroid photos with a rubber band around them. She removed the rubber band and sorted through them until she found the one she wanted and handed it to me. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Cheryl was between two black men in sheriff's uniforms one looked like he must have been an NFL tackle the other an NBA basketball player. They towered above her. All three of them were smiling. Cheryl was wearing the red nighty that hid absolutely nothing. 

"After they finished but before they left Clyde asked Thomas if he would take a picture of us. Well he took three, one for each of them and one for us." She didn't offer to share any of the other pictures with me just then, and I didn't ask her to. Seemed like she had a plan and I didn't want to interfere.

"Anyway," she said, "back to the story, just thought you would want to see what they looked like.Well, I was alone in the room with Clyde and Jake. I had chatted with Thomas on the Internet and talked with him on the telephone and we were together at the airport in his car before we did anything. I was waiting for one of them to leave when Clyde said to me ‘what's wrong babe?'"

"Who's going first?" I asked

They both laughed at my question. It was Jake who said, "we're partners, we do everything together, I mean everything." With that, they both moved in and started rubbing me with their big black hands. Somehow the flimsy little nighty was removed and I was naked except for my shoes which I kicked off. Then Clyde looked into my eyes and asked what I thought was a strange question. "Do you kiss honey?" I wasn't exactly sure what he meant. Rather than repeat his question he lowered his lips to mine which parted instinctively. His tongues passed my teeth and played with mine. I started breathing hard again partly because in addition to the kiss Jake was sucking the nipple of my right breast like a baby and tweaking the other one. When Clyde came up for air, he answered his own question. "You kiss all right!" Most hookers will fuck and suck, swallow and even let ya fuck their assholes but they won't kiss a John. Don't ask me why, doesn't make any sense to me. Becky says that's special for her husband and turns her head when I try to steal a kiss."

They had moved me back to the bed and I laid on my back with my legs spread wantonly while they undressed. I was really surprised when they were both naked. Clyde had an average size penis and was hard as a rock. Jake had a cock that made Thomas' seem small and it wasn't half hard yet. I guess I learned during my trip that you can't tell the size of a man's cock by the size of his body, his hands, his shoe size or his nose. All the old wive's tales were wrong. Believe me I know. I was really thankful though that Clyde was more normal-size because Clyde and Jake were my first DP. You know that means double penetration? After I sucked Jake and made him hard he laid on his back and I sat on top of him and then leaned over to kiss him. Clyde was playing with my asshole and slipped a finger in that was lubricated with my own juice. Then he slipped another in. With the girth of Jake's cock in my pussy and Clyde's fingers in my ass I was stuffed but not as stuffed as I soon would be. I felt him moving around between our legs until the head of his cock was touching my puckered anus. He was very gentle and Jake cooperated and held still until Clyde began to enter. It hurt for a minute until my rectum adjusted. Then somehow they were both buried balls deep in my two holes. Without a spoken word each of us began to move in unison. It was like a ballet. I have no idea how long this went on. I know each of us began to perspire, oh listen to ladylike me, I mean we began to sweat. I was moaning and sighing and they took that as encouragement and tried to move with even greater intensity. We came simultaneously. I must have drifted off to sleep because I was awakened by Thomas gently shaking my shoulder and saying, "Cheryl, better get cleaned up, I'll change the sheets." There was no sign of Clyde or Jake. 

I went in the bathroom and douched and showered again. I put the little nighty over my shoulders, even though it seemed ridiculous because it covered nothing, touched up my make up and brushed my hair. When I came out Clyde and Jake were back in the room and Clyde said, "honey can we get a picture with ya?" Thomas was holding a Polaroid camera and then Clyde got on one side, Jake the other and Thomas snapped three different pictures. Then Clyde said, "let me take a couple of pictures of you with Cheryl Thomas." Cheryl stopped her story long enough to hand me another photo. 

I saw Thomas for the first time or part of Thomas. He and Cheryl were pressed tightly together and locked in a deep kiss. Both had their eyes closed. He seemed to tower over her by a foot. The photo confirmed what Cheryl had said. His skin was coal black, his head was shaved and he had an earing in the ear I could see. 

Cheryl sighed and then continued, "after that it was sort of a blur. I don't think I rested for more than fifteen minutes at a time until the sun came up. Thomas was right. About a third of my dates were team truckers and many of them, maybe most of them, wanted to share me. Some wanted anal, some vaginal double penetration -- let me tell you that isn't easy -- some head and tail. Thomas cautioned me to pace it and just pretend to come. But, I couldn't help it, I came every time, actually several times with every man. Thomas was so sweet he made sure that I drank plenty of water so that I didn't dehydrate. He massaged my shoulders and feet when we had a short break."

"As you can imagine, I slept fitfully after my workout and in a strange bed next to a strange man. It did seem to hurt when I was empty, not when I was full. Thomas was kind enough to help me out a couple of times during the late morning and afternoon when I woke up."

"Saturday night was pretty much a repeat of Friday night. Oh, I did start much earlier on Saturday. Then, all at once it was over. Thomas gave me the money, I didn't count it he said it was $3,000, I believed him. Back to the airport in Charlotte. I, changed planes in Atlanta and here I am. Well?"

I didn't answer with words. I took her in my arms, kissed her sweet lips and made love to her. We didn't fuck, we made love because I love her and she loves me.

The first words she whispered after we both calmed down from our intense climaxes were: "Honey, do you have any more miles left on Delta?"