Book IV: A First-Time Interracial Romance￼
My husband, Simon, arrived to join me in Prague late in the afternoon and, the minute I saw him, I dissolved into floods of tears. We spent our first reunited hour with him soothing and consoling me. No woman on earth could wish for a kinder, more compassionate man than mine. Even though he knew he was comforting me because I’d admitted to obsessing over another man for the first time in our married life, he stroked my back and whispered words of comfort. I couldn’t begin to imagine what I was doing to him on the inside.
“Let me just get cleaned up after my long journey, then perhaps we could go out to dinner and talk over all this stuff more calmly. Have you found any good restaurants?”
“Actually, the place Darius took me last night was really nice. Great food and a relaxed atmosphere. And it’s only a short walk.”
Darius Fitch, the charismatic man of my fantasies – the handsome young owner of The Wild Orchid, the outrageous nightclub I’d gone to Prague to write about. The club where, the next night, the weekly Couples Night would apparently give free rein to married couples exploring their wife-sharing fantasies.
“I’m sold. You make a reservation while I take a shower.”
When we walked into the restaurant, Marcel came over to greet us.
He looked at me quizzically. What was he imagining? On Monday, I’d been there as Darius Fitch’s date, and now I was hand in hand with another man.
“Bonsoir, Marcel. This is my husband, Simon.”
His smile turned a little forced, and his eyes widened noticeably as he shook Simon’s hand, and I struggled to suppress a giggle. When we were seated and had each downed a glass of wine to loosen us up, I whispered to my husband, “I think Marcel considers me a loose woman.”
Simon smiled at me and whispered back, “I think he’s right – isn’t he?”
The smoldering look he gave me when he asked his rhetorical question was so sexy that I felt a sudden tingle of excitement between my legs. It made me want to do something I’ve never been comfortable with. It made me want to talk about dirty stuff with Simon right there over dinner. We were staring at each other with a combination of enduring love and barely disguised lust.
“You really think I’m a loose woman?” I asked suggestively. “But I’ve not done anything.”
I must admit that it was kind of a turn-on to be seen as a femme fatale for the first time in my life. I was already getting a massive boost to my ego from feeling desired by a hot younger man, and now my husband was looking at me differently, too.
“Do you think I will, though?”
“Only you can decide that, Hannah.”
“But he’s so young.”
“I suspect he’s been around the block a few times. It’s hardly as if you’re seducing him.”
“Can I admit something very intimate?” I asked.
“You know you can.”
“You know the girl I told you about – Sarah, the married one who works as a ringer at Darius’ club.”
“Well, she told me that Darius’ cock is as close to perfection as any she’s ever seen.”
“And you want to see it?”
I looked down at the table in shame as I nodded.
“And taste it?”
The wetness in my panties felt like molten lava. I ran my foot up the inside of my husband’s leg.
“You want to fuck him, don’t you?”
I put my foot between Simon’s legs and found exactly what I’d expected. His cock was diamond hard.
“Do you want me to?”
“I’ve already told you about my fantasies, my darling, but I’m not really sure this guy is the right one for you. I’m finding it difficult to see what the magic is if he’s as cocky and objectionable as you make out.”
I pressed my foot down on his hard cock and felt it twitch under my toes.
“I’m just as confused as you. I don’t know what the magic is either – I just know there’s a strong sexual pull that I’m having difficulty resisting. Would you hate it if I did something with him?”
“To be honest, I don’t know how I’d feel. But, having revealed my wife-sharing and wife-watching fantasies with you, I probably don’t have the right to decide who is and who isn’t acceptable. It’s got to be down to you, Han. I feel like I’m in no position to withhold my approval.”
“So, let me understand – you’re not actively giving your approval, but you’re not withholding it. Is that right?”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time researching the fact that a lot of men share your fantasies, but there are still a couple of questions in my mind.”
“Mmm, what are they?”
“Is your approval of me having sex with another man simply an excuse so that you have a license to fool around with other women?”
“No.” He sounded almost hurt. “This is not about moral equivalency. It just is what it is, Han, as difficult as that might be to understand.”
“Okay. Okay. That was emphatic. But is it because you’re tired of me, and you’re hoping I will run off with him?”
“Never.” Simon appeared both hurt and angry.
“I can’t speak for anyone else who shares the fantasy but, for me, I just think about watching you being adored by another man. Observing the sensations you feel when we’re having sex, but watching them from an outsider’s perspective. I want a man to pamper you, to seduce you, and to want you. I want him to take you to the heights of passion… to the point where you cast aside every inhibition and become a raw sexual being. To see the desire that I feel for you being manifested by another man, who feels the same, is the most exciting thing imaginable.
“I know it makes me sound like a pervert, but it has always been a thing for me. Every time I jerk off… which, in the interests of full disclosure, is quite often when I’m away on a photoshoot… my fantasies all revolve around one of two scenarios. It’s either the two of us together being incredibly filthy, or it’syou with another man being equally uninhibited. Sometimes I even see some random guy, and an idea flashes in front of me that he would be good to watch with you. I know it’s strange, but from what I see online, there seem to be a lot of husbands who have the same fantasy.”
“That’s what I’ve been discovering, my darling. In the research I’ve done, it seems like husbands can generally be broken up into two categories. Those who think like you do and those who get ragingly jealous at the thought of another man so much as looking at their wives. In the extreme, the guys at that end of the spectrum can even turn to violence.” Simon looked impressed that I’d been researching in such depth.
“One final aspect of my weirdness…” he continued, “I also want the man to be jealous of me for having you. The thought of other men desiring you but then you choose to come home to me, is a strange ego boost for me. It really turns me on when men look at you, and this takes it to a whole new level. Mind you, it only works while I’m one-hundred percent confident that I’m not going to lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me. I’m yours forever, my darling. But wouldn’t you feel jealous at all?”
“Of course I would – I’d be fiercely jealous. But somehow, that heightens the eroticism of it. It’s difficult to explain, but the combination of eroticism and jealousy actually enhances the excitement. But remember, there’s no falling in love with them or even making love with them. Just pure atavistic sex.”
My toes continued to stroke Simon’s hardness, and my wetness was getting to the point of embarrassment. I looked deep into my husband’s eyes.
“I think we need to finish up our food as quickly as possible,” I laughed.
The second the hotel elevator doors closed, we were all over each other. Simon’s hand flew under the hem of my dress and up to the sloppy wetness of my sheer white silk panties. Pushing the edge aside, he plunged a thick finger deep inside me, eliciting an involuntary groan of pleasure. I grabbed the hardness of his cock that was showing clearly through his pants, and we made out like a couple of horny newlyweds. When the elevator doors opened, we hardly noticed the three attractive young businessmen staring at us, open-mouthed.
The sex we had that night was the best we’d EVER had. Not just the best since the early days of our relationship… simply the best ever. As our passion built to a frenzied crescendo, our dirty talking got wilder and wilder as we fantasized, in the filthiest terms, about what Darius would be like as a lover and what Couples Night at his club could bring.
Simon picked me up off the bed and turned me face-down so he could drive into my sopping pussy from behind.
“Do you want Darius to do this?”
“God, yes. Imagine his perfect cock pounding into me over and over until I cum all over him.”
I felt my husband’s cock become even more rigid as he imagined the scene.
“And where do you want him to cum?”
“Deep in your married pussy?”
“Do you want him to be the first to cum in your mouth?”
I almost screamed ‘YES,’ but, even in the throes of passion, I realized that would be hurtful to Simon. I couldn’t do that to him.
“No, I want you to be the first… NOW.”
My words were enough to trigger his orgasm, and we did our best to make it happen. I rolled over onto my back, and Simon straddled me, moving up my body as fast as he could before his anticipated eruption. The first powerful blast of his cum hit me squarely on the forehead, but I managed to open my mouth and stick out my tongue to eagerly take the rest of his copious streams. As his spurts came to an end, I pulled him forward and took his wonderful cock in my mouth, savoring the last few drops of his essence. As I swallowed the entirety of his load, I remember consciously wondering why I’d been reticent about it until that day. There was nothing unpleasant about it; on the contrary, it had been exciting and liberating.
The pleasure on my husband’s face was clear evidence of his surprised delight.
“So, now I’ve been the first, I’ll repeat my question. Do you want him to cum in your mouth?”
“If it’s as good as that was… then yes.”
On hearing my response, Simon kissed gently down my body until his tongue came to rest on my clit. Lapping between my petals with the flat of his tongue, he teased my button mercilessly until I experienced a temblor of orgasm and gushed my pleasure into his mouth.
Crawling up the bed, my beloved husband kissed me, and I savored the mingled flavors of our combined passion.
We slept that night, locked in each other’s embrace, feeling as close as we’d ever felt. How weird was that?
It was late afternoon of the following day when we returned to the hotel and, as we passed the front desk, the clerk called out to us.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ledbridge, I have a message for you.”
He handed Hannah an envelope, and inside we found a message from Darius.
You are my guests of honor this evening at Couples Night.
Looking forward to meeting you, Simon.
A limo will pick you up at 9:00.
Hannah looked at me and raised her eyebrows as if she were questioning me about my impression of the note.
“That’s nice of him,” I said, thoughtfully.
She smiled, reassured that the evening of Couples Night was starting off on the right foot. I didn’t like to add that it was hardly unexpected for him to make polite gestures towards me when he was blatantly trying to get my wife into bed.
I could hardly believe my luck. We were getting all dressed up to attend a party tailored explicitly to couples who shared my own personal sexual fantasy. An entire evening designed for the erotic art of wife-sharing and wife-watching. My cock was semi-hard before we even left our hotel.
Even though I say it myself, we looked good as we climbed into the stretch Hummer-limo that Darius had sent to pick us up. Hannah’s sexy new dress had caught the attention of every man in the lobby as we made our way to the revolving doors. Heads had swiveled, and eyes had raked up and down my wife’s body. I was the luckiest man alive.
Imagine my shock as I followed Hannah into the massive expanse of the car to find an incredibly handsome young guy, wearing nothing but a G-string and holding out two glasses of champagne. His tanned, muscular body looked like it had been lightly oiled. Obviously, he was one of the dancers from The Wild Orchid, but why was he almost naked in the back of our limo?
“Mr. and Mrs. Ledbridge, I’m Pyotr. Welcome to Couples Night. You are the special guests of Mr. Fitch, and he asked me to tell you that we can either go straight to the club or drive around for a while first. If you choose a longer drive, I can entertain you in any way your heart desires.”
HO. LEE. FUCK. It was only at lunchtime that we had been discussing the logistical impossibility of arranging for me to watch Hannah enjoying the company of another man. But, if my reading of the situation was correct, that’s precisely what was on offer. Would he actually fuck my wife right there in the limo if we chose the long ride?
Hannah looked positively terrified as she glanced at me to see my reaction to Pyotr’s proposal. I didn’t intend to give anything away, even though my heart was pumping a million times a minute in anticipation of watching my wife with this handsome young guy. I knew she had sensed the eagerness behind my mask of indifference when she leaned towards me and whispered, apologetically, in my ear.
“I can’t. It’s too soon. And he’s not Darius. It doesn’t feel right. YET!”