This is a fictional about a white wife cheating with a black man. If that type of story doesn't appeal to you, simply don't read it. There is some light incest here too.
Introduction
My sister, Trish, and I were enjoying a post-sex bath together. Yeah, that’s right, her and I get it on pretty often. I love eating her pussy, I love bending her over and fucking her with my strap-on. Good times. Good, perverted, incestuous, times. I love my sister and I love making her cum.
We also completed a photo shoot earlier that day. We’re both fitness models who work together regularly. We were in Atlanta, shooting for a magazine ad. When we got back to our hotel, I pushed her on the bed, torn off our clothes and climbed on top of her. We worked up quite a sweat while grinding our pussies together. It’s a good workout too.
Afterward, we opened up some wine, and slid into a wonderful bubble bath.
One thing that’s different between my sister and I, besides me being the dominant, is that I was briefly married – less than a year. Trish and I have lived together almost always, except for my brief marriage. In between sips of wine and me sucking all over her foot – similar to how I suck dick – Trish piped up and asked me how the marriage ended.
I looked at her foot, licking it, kissing it, just like it was a big cock. I smiled, thinking just of that – big cock. I put her foot back into the warm, bubbly water, and then I told her.
-1-
Mmm, my high school crush, Darius. I wanted to suck the cum out of his black balls from the second I saw him in gym class.
All the white girls loved him. All the white girls threw themselves at him. Sadly, I did not. I was the nerdy looking, chubby, unpopular girl that he never spoke too.
I would finger myself silly masturbating to him, imagining him on top of me, getting my horny, teenage ass pregnant – oh how I wanted his black babies.
I was fortunate enough to see his cock too. Several times, I’d see him, totally naked. After a football game, all the cheerleaders had him in the girl’s bathroom, taking turns sucking and fucking him until they orgasmed. He took four dates to the prom, I walked in on a couple of them sucking his cock out back behind the school. I walked in, snuck around and followed him I should say, on him and a teacher having sex one day after school. When we graduated high school, I again, witnessed two different teachers in a classroom, undressing and giving themselves to him. They all craved his cock – so did I.
That was the last I saw of Darius. He was naked, nodding, smirking at two white high school teachers, naked, walking toward him in a classroom. I quickly darted away because I heard another teaching walking toward me.
By the time college ended, I got fit, healthy, sexy, eventually leading to a fitness model career. In my early thirties, my career was great, and I even married a nice man named John. I practically forgot about my crush.
That is, until the day he was booked as my photographer.
Darius was bigger, taller, massively muscular and oh so sexy. I blushed, looking away that day on the set.
We were introduced. “Hi, yes, Darius. I remember you,” I said, standing in my bikini on the beach.
“You do?” he didn’t recognize me.
“Yep. We went to high school together. Graduated same year,” I told him, he was drawing a black.
“I was chubby, had acne, nerdy looking. We had a few classes together. I’m Stacey,” I smiled.
“Stacey,” he was thinking. While he was doing that, I was glancing over his physique, my legs getting weak.
“I think, I think I remember you. Yeah,” he pointed. “Yeah you do look familiar. You were kinda a loud mouth, right?”
“Heh, yeah, loud, nerdy chick. Kinda annoying. You and I never hung out.”
“I see. Well, sorry if I don’t remember you that well. But, damn, you look incredible now,” he looked me over. I blushed again.
“Thanks,” I awkwardly said.
The photo shoot lasted a few hours. I remember giving him all sorts of sexy looks while in the poses he had me do. The ocean water was really cold that day. But I didn’t care. I was undressing him in my mind, sucking his cock in my mind, and fucking him in my mind.
After the shoot, we shook hands, he complimented my appearance again and I left.
I got home a little later, stripped naked and rode a dildo, pretending it was Darius, before John got home. I was rubbing my clit in the shower when John arrived. I told him to get in with me. After a few minutes of penetration from behind, pretending it was Darius, cumming hard on John’s penis, John pulled out and ejaculated on my ass.
After dinner, we hung out a bit. John talked about work – his and mine. I told him I ran into someone from high school. I told him the person was a photographer. I didn’t give names or descriptions, only that it was neat to see someone after all these years. The subject changed, dinner was finished, I was in bed with John watching TV a little later.
I somehow managed to get him to fuck me again. Normally John can only go once a day. Anyway, he was on top, humping away, and I thought of Darius. John did what I requested he do – pull out and cum somewhere other than in my pussy. I didn’t want to go on birth control due to possible weight gain side effects. My figure must remain as perfect as possible for my job
John ejaculated on my tummy, then rolled over to go to sleep. I didn’t have enough time to climax, so I was still wanting. I gathered up John’s cum from my stomach and licked it off my hands, wondering how good Darius’ tasted. I thought back to high school, all those times I snuck around, witnessing him and other white students and teachers have sex. They were so lucky.
When my husband was asleep, snoring softly, I got out of bed, still naked, grabbed my dildo from my drawer and went outside.
I tossed the dildo into the pool and dove in.
“Ah! Ah! Fuck!” I was crying out, doing my best to be quiet. The dildo was under the water, suctioned to a wall, and I was backing into it, pretending Darius was behind me.
I cursed myself for not talking to him more. If I got a chance to, I would next time for sure.
-2-
A week later, I got lucky. Darius was booked as the photographer for a new swimwear line. I nearly squealed when I saw his dark brown, tall frame, standing in the corner adjusting the lighting.
“Darius! Hi again,” I smiled.
“Hey, what’s up? Good to work with you again,” he smiled back.
“Absolutely.”
“Those shots I took of you last week turned out great. These will turn out well too, I bet,” Darius told me.
“Well I’m sure you contributed to that,” I grinned.
“Heh,” he looked me over. “You did the hard part.”
I was having trouble concentrating. All throughout the photoshoot I was giving Darius the “fuck me” eyes. He’d pose me, I’d look seductively at the camera, at him. He’d move me around some, I’d keep posing, and he’d keep taking photos.
As I undressed him with my eyes all day, a single thought hit me. What if? What if he and I were in a position where we could have sex? What if I cheated on John, even if it was just a onetime thing? What if I got the opportunity to sleep with my high school crush, to really fuck his brains out, would I take it?
“Yes! That’s it baby, good job!” Darius kept taking photos. I loved it that he called me baby.
When the shoot wrapped, I immediately headed to him this time. “How was it? I do ok?”
“You were incredible. I might have to start calling you ‘Sexy Stacey,’” Darius said.
I swatted at his arm, laughing, maybe a little too much.
“So how long are you in Miami?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I hope for years. I live here,” he smiled.
“No way! Really?” I couldn’t believe it. “Wow, that’s great! I run into someone from high school, we work together, we live in the same city.”
“True,” Darius put his camera away. “And she turned out to be a sexy fitness model.”
I said nothing, blushing instead.
“What you got going on tonight, Sexy Stacey?” he asked.
I bit my bottom lip, glancing to his crotch, “Not a thing.”
******
I told John a half-truth that night. As I was putting on a sleek, tight dress, I told him I was going for drinks with the friend from high school. Which was true. I, of course, left out the fact that the friend was my first crush and a sexy, black man I’ve wanted to fuck ever since I was a teenager.
On the way to the bar, I thought about more what ifs. What if the chance arose to sleep with Darius? Would I try to make it happen? No. But if it did happen, if he initiated it, then hell yes!
“So, Sexy Stacey, tell me about what’s been going on since high school?” Darius leaned in close to ask as we stood at a crowded bar.
I sipped my cocktail. Someone bumped into me from behind, I inched closer to Darius. “I got you,” he put his hand on the small of my back, holding me closer.
“Um, well, I did the college thing. I got into sales after graduating, got in shape, got into modeling,” I smiled at him.
“You certainly did get into shape,” he sipped his drink. “You’re fine as hell. I bet that husband of yours has a rough time.”
I almost forgot about him. “Oh, nah, it’s not a problem.”
“Maybe it should be. I’ve taken a lot of magazine covers of fine-ass women like you posing with some big muscular guy. Later on, I hear them having sex, or sometimes walk in on her down on her knees sucking dick. I’ve seen a lot of sex in my field.”
“Really? Interesting,” I wondered how many he’s been with since becoming a photographer.
“Yeah. What’s really interesting is that all the times I’ve personally witnessed or heard about the models having sex – it was always a white female and black male.”
I nearly spit my drink out. “Oh, um, yeah that’s interesting.”
I took another sip, “So I’m guessing photographers aren’t excluded from that?”
“Stacey, I’ve photographed hundreds of white models. You know where they all end up?” Darius asked.
I knew the answer, but I didn’t say, I shrugged and smiled, taking another sip.
“I don’t live far from here. Want to see my penthouse apartment?” Darius asked. “It has an incredible view.”
I nodded without speaking. I must’ve looked so silly, so love struck; like a high school girl.
******
“Is your husband expecting you soon?” Darius asked me at his apartment, handing me some wine. He dimmed the lights so only the Miami skyline came through his large wall-to-wall window.
“I told him I was going out with a friend from high school. But I can always text or call him later if need be,” I said.
“Friend from high school. Yeah, I think you lied to him. We hardly knew each other,” Darius grinned.
“Well, someone from high school,” I sipped my wine, turning to face him.
“Like the view?” he asked.
“I love it,” I said, not looking out the window, looking at him.
“You know, now that I think about it, I do remember you better now. I remember seeing you sneak around some.”
I looked away, embarrassed, “You do?”
“Yep. Shit, I had maybe 10 or so teachers I’d have sex with regularly. Seems like I remember you walking by, or peeping in, one of the classrooms we were in.”
“Ten?” I asked. I thought it was maybe three or four.
“Yeah,” he took a step closer. “All white, all beautiful like you, all married.”
I gulped, eyes darting side-to-side. He tipped my chin, peering into my eyes. “I think you should text your husband. Let him know you’re going to be late.”
Then he kissed me. It was slow, sensual kiss, leaving me frozen.
“Yep,” I snapped out of it, grabbed my phone and texted John. “Friend got sick, taking them to hospital, will text later.”
I tossed the phone over my shoulder and wrapped my arms around Darius, returning his kiss with one far more intense than his.
“Yes!” I thought, my heart racing, my pussy dripping. I was going to do it. I was going to have sex with Darius. I didn’t care if it’d be a onetime thing. I was going to do something I never thought I’d be able to. My long lost high school crush, someone as a teenager, I wanted to have sex with so bad that I didn’t care if I got knocked up. Here I was, making out with him, years later in his luxurious apartment, while he fiddled with his pants and I assisted with his shirt.
I practically tore his shirt away from his shoulders, our mouths still connected, his thick tongue inside mine. I ran my hands all over his abs. I closed my lips around his tongue, sucking it, as it exited my mouth.
“Darius,” I said, breathing heavily. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, back in in like ninth grade.”
He took a step back, pulled his pants and boxers down, stepping out of them, completely naked before me.
“Then get to work, Sexy Stacey,” he commanded me.
-3-
I didn’t know where to begin. I wanted to suck his big, juicy cock. I wanted to get him in every hole of my body. I wanted to cum and cum again. I stood there, mouth open, unsure of what to do.
He tugged at his erection. That did it. That snapped me out of my trance. My dominant side took over and I lunged at him. “Give me that fucking cock!”
We kissed to the couch, I pushed him down on it, and flung off my dress, my bra, and thong. I went to my knees, pushed his legs apart, and worked that man’s dick like a pro. I wanted it for so long. I never thought I’d get the chance to. I was going to slobber and suck all over it, while rubbing my clit, and look into his eyes just like I did when he was taking photos of me.
Feeling his big cockhead push past my lips, over my tongue, and to the back of my throat reminded me of seeing high school students and teachers doing exactly what I was doing.
I rubbed my clit through several orgasms. However, Darius hadn’t cum yet. Normally John came in minutes, but I was sucking Darius’ cock for so long my jaws were hurting. I kept going, kept sucking, and kept playing with myself.
I came again when he put his hand on the side of my head, holding me in place while I worked that dick of his.
After about an hour of cumming while sucking his cock, I popped it out of my mouth, drool everywhere. “You haven’t cum yet?”
“Nope, we got a long night a head of us. You better text your husband again,” Darius said.
I grabbed my phone and texted John, “Hey, still at hospital. Friend is doing better, going to stay a while.” I tossed the phone once more and straddled Darius on the couch.
I grabbed his cock by the base, “Get this black monster in me.”
“You gonna ride it, baby? It’s yours tonight,” Darius said.
“Oh I’m riding it. I’m riding it all night. I’ve wanted this thing in me for a long time. I went to college, got a job, got married – I never thought I’d see you again. But now, we’re working together, mmmm,” I kissed him hard. “This cock is mine.”
With that, I came down on his cock with all my weight. I cried out with pleasure, throwing my head back, my neck arched, my tits in his face. He slapped my ass, “Good girl. Now ride it.”
I looked to his face with a fiery lust I’d never experienced. Then I fucked him. I fucked him harder than I ever did my husband. I fucked him until I was dripping sweat on to him, until my legs were about to completely give out, until my pussy was a spasming, quivering mess of orgasmic jelly.
Darius never once came. I wondered if I was doing something wrong. By that point, I never had a black guy before, was my pussy not designed to handle a black cock?
“You, you aren’t cumming?” I said, still grinding and riding him, sweaty, out-of-breath. I lost track of time.
“Nah. Don’t worry, Sexy Stacey, you doing a real good job. I love sitting back watching white women work my dick,” Darius said, slapping my now sweaty ass once more.
I climaxed three more times in the next 20 mins. I couldn’t go any more, I was too tired. I rested my head on his shoulder, kissing and licking his neck.
“So good. Fuck me, baby. Please?” I whispered in his ear.
Darius stood, taking me with him. He walked us to my phone, squatted, grabbed it and handed to me. “In that case, you better text him again.”
With Darius’ cock inside, my legs wrapped around his waist as he walked us to his bedroom, I texted John again. “Hi, friend has to stay overnight. Going to stay.”
I sent my text as Darius laid me on his bed. I tossed the phone to the side and wrapped my arms around him, kissing him.
He was an animal – savage, forceful, primal. His bed banged against the wall as he worked. He looked into my face with determination. He watched me cum over and over again.
Another hour or two passed, Darius was still on top, fucking away at my pussy. I was breathing heavily out of my open mouth. I could taste him – his sweat dripping onto my face.
Suddenly, he pulled out, flipped me over and fucked me from behind. I’ve never been taken so hard before. I loved it when he slapped my ass and pulled my hair. John was nothing like this.
As Darius fucked me, I thought about doing this again. Surely this couldn’t be a onetime thing. Surely this couldn’t be me just getting it on with a high school crush years later. No, I would keep seeing him. We both lived in Miami, after all.
“Where do you want it?” he asked, referring to his cum.
There was only one answer that made sense. “My pussy!”
“You got it,” he kept thrusting harder.
“No! Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“I want to see you cum,” I said.
He pulled out, flipped me over to my back, and reentered me.
What a gorgeous sight. I watched this ripped black man, prop himself up with his hands, my own hands rubbing his perfect body, and proceed to fill my pussy with his seed. I was so lost in orgasmic bliss, I didn’t care if he knocked me up.
We fell asleep a little later, in each other’s arms.
The sun rose, I got dressed, kissed him goodbye, and we agreed to meet up again. I had a couple simple “ok” texts from John. I texted him saying I was on the way home. He probably wasn’t awake yet. John isn’t much of a morning person.
When I got home, I showered, scooping semen out of my pussy to eat. I put on my bikini afterward. I hugged John, who was out by the pool, cleaning it. I laid out in a lounge chair, John talking in the background about lunch plans. I wasn’t paying attention. I was having too much trouble resisting the urge to masturbate to thoughts of Darius while John was cleaning the pool.
-4-
It became an affair. It wasn’t a one-night-stand, or a one-time hookup, it was a continual, almost daily thing.
For the next few weeks, I’d head out early, and with the same lips I kissed my husband with, I was on my knees before a photo shoot kissing Darius’ black cock.
I snuck out a few nights to fuck Darius. I took long weekend shopping trips or “girl’s night outs” to fuck Darius. I stayed later after photo shoots to fuck Darius.
Our sexy, toned, muscular bodies merged together in a dark brown and white mixture of sweat, semen, saliva, and oh so much sex.
One day we were fucking in Darius’ apartment. I was bouncing up and down on his cock, dripping sweat to him, when I noticed it was unusually hot. Normally we work up a sweat during our long sex sessions anyway, but this was far more than normal.
When I took a break, asking him about it, he told me the air condition was out. A repair man couldn’t get to it for another couple days.
I kissed my way down his body, my tongue licking over his chest, his nipples, his abs, all the way to his cock. As I sucked on it, I thought of something crazy.
I took his sweaty nutsack in my mouth, “You could stay with me and John.”
“Yeah right. You want me to stay there with you and your husband?”
I popped a testicle out of my mouth, “Sure. Might be fun to sneak around while he there.”
“That’s a dangerous game, Sexy Stacey,” Darius said.
“I know. That’s what’s thrilling about it,” I licked all the way back to his taint, over his nuts, then up his shaft again. I stroked his cock, telling him I wanted him to mark my face with his seed. After he nutted all over my face, I cleaned it off with my fingers, licking them clean. We got dressed and headed to my home.
We had sex again upon arriving. Darius put his things in the guest room, we undressed, and got busy for a couple hours.
John came home early. Nope, he didn’t catch us. We were out back in the swimming pool, cooling off after a wonderful mutual orgasm in bed. We were in bathing suits, splashing around, playing.
Darius flipped me over his shoulders, as John walked out toward this pool. “Oh, hey,” I said, emerging from under water, slicking my hair back.
“Hi,” John smiled, confused by the sculpted black man, throwing me around, playing in the pool with me.
“John, this is Darius. My high school friend,” I said. I could see him gulp, his face getting even whiter.
“Uh, hi, I’m her husband,” John said with more emphasis on the husband part. They shook hands and I explained that Darius’ AC was out and he’d be in the guestroom for a couple nights.
John couldn’t say anything. I could tell he wanted to have a word with me, but couldn’t in front of Darius. He bit his tongue and left us alone. I watched John enter the house, the turned around and tried to tackle Darius. He flung me around some more. I eventually managed to pull his swim trunks down.
Hugging him from behind, my hands on his abs, I kissed his back several times. “I’m going to take care of you tonight. After John goes to sleep, I’ll sneak over and see you.”
“Sounds good to me, baby,” Darius said, looking over his shoulder.
******
“Who is this guy?” John asked, annoyed at me.
I crawled into bed next to him. “I told you, friend from high school.”
“This is the guy you went out with a few weeks ago? He went to the hospital?” John asked.
I paused, nearly forgetting about that lie. “Uh, yeah, drank too much. Was pretty bad.”
“Did you drink too?” he asked.
“A little. I was a designated driver for the group,” I recovered. “There were a few of us. He drank the most. But he’s fine now. Anyway, want to watch a movie?”
John shrugged. I hoped changing the subject worked. “Or, you wanna do something else?” I nudged his arm.
“I don’t know,” John pouted.
“Come on, might make you feel better. I’m sure you don’t like a big, sexy black man in our home,” I slid my hand into John’s boxers.
“It’s not that, it’s just, I don’t know,” He didn’t want to talk.
“Fine,” I threw my legs over him, straddling him. I took my t-shirt off. It was the only thing I wore to bed, so I was nude now.
“Stacey.”
“Come on, John. It’s a fun way to go to sleep, right?” I asked, hoping he’d fall asleep as soon as he ejaculated.
“Fine. Alright,” John grabbed my waist, rolling on top of me.
“There we go,” I smiled up at him. “Give it to me!”
He gave it to me – sort of. It was a few minutes of humping, then pulling out to cum on the sheets. I let Darius cum in my pussy a majority of our times together, but still never let John. In the back of my mind, Darius was so good, I didn’t care if he knocked me up.
When John finished he rolled over. I patted his tummy and waited 15 minutes.
I slid out of bed, walking naked down the hall. Darius was naked, lying in bed, on his phone. He put it down when he saw me appear. I closed this door, walked to him, threw my leg over him, straddling him just like I did John earlier. This time, a big cock was in me, filling me up, stretching me out. This time I felt something. This time I was going to cum over and over again, with a man who would keep going and going.
Perhaps it was because I needed to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake my husband, perhaps my feelings for Darius were getting stronger and stronger, either way, we made love. There was no loud, intense fucking that we usually did – it was quiet, slow, barely much movement. It was me on top, constantly kissing him, slowly grinding against his body.
He continued the pattern when he rolled on top of me. Propping himself up, staring down at me, watching me do my best to be quiet while cumming, Darius made love to me too. After I climaxed, he laid on top of me, kissing my neck, his cock slowly gliding in and out of me.
“I love you,” I whispered after cumming again.
“I love you too, baby,” he kissed my neck. I closed my eyes, smiled, and held him on top of me.
I did the same thing the following day. John pouted and complained about the guest, asking when he was leaving. Darius and I instigated it a bit. We’d hug in front of John, playfully flirt while cooking breakfast, after our jog, we’d jump in and play in the pool.
That night I let John do his thing, fall asleep, then gave myself Darius over and over.
Darius was sitting up in bed, sucking my tits as I orgasmed again. I brought his mouth to mine. In that moment I decided to file for divorce.
-5-
There was arguing, yelling, accusations, and so on. In the end, I admitted I was in love with someone else. That was that.
I was gone for a week. Darius and I were “working” in Hawaii. Sure we took a few photos, but we mostly stayed in bed, naked, occasionally watching the sunset then making love on the beach.
When I returned home, the papers were signed, John wasn’t there. I didn’t stay long. I did some laundry, packed a few items and went to Darius’.
Fate intervened that night, something that once again reunited me with my sister.
After a several hour sex session with Darius, just after midnight, I told him I loved him again and that I was divorcing John.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you don’t have to do that,” Darius said, sitting up, his cock still in me.
“Why not? I don’t want to be with him anymore.”
“I get that but –“
“But what? I love you,” I told him.
“I love you too, girl. But I love that pussy, that ass, those tits, that face.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I don’t want to get married or be committed,” Darius said. My heart sank, I felt foolish, embarrassed.
“You don’t want to be with me?”
“You got some of the best pussy I ever had. Maybe I should’ve been up front from the get go. I’m not looking to settle down,” Darius told me.
I got off him, his cock slurping out of my pussy. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think, I had to leave. I got dressed, grabbed my bag and headed toward his door.
“Sexy Stacey, you don’t have to leave. I’m just being honest with you.”
“No. We don’t feel the same. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be one of the women in your stable. I’ve wanted you since high school.”
“Aw come on, please don’t go,” he pleaded.
I was too hurt, too embarrassed to stay. “Sorry. I need to go.”
I cried all the way to Trish’s.
And that’s where I stayed. My brief time apart from her ended, my marriage ended in less than a year, my sexcapades with Darius ended. I kept working, both of us did, but I never slept or worked with him again.
******
“Wow,” Trish said, after I told her the story. “I guess it was fate. Fate that contributed to us being even closer.”
“It was. Maybe it was a mistake for us to be apart like that. Maybe I never should’ve married,” I said.
Trish smiled, sat up in the tub, as did I, and we kissed. “Let’s go cuddle,” she said.
We got out of the tub, dried each other off, and laid on the bed, holding one another.
“Still like black men?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ve been with several. We both have,” I kissed her head.
I held her in my arms, sighing heavily. I missed Darius and our brief fling. I closed my eyes, wondering if I’d ever see him again.
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