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Getting Hubby the Promotion part 2

“I’ll never ask you to do anything you’re not completely happy with, that’s a promise.”

It was in my hands, which pleased me. Maybe I did want Byron. Maybe I could make my husband extra happy by having sex with a black man. “How short a skirt?” I asked.

In the end run I wore a blue corduroy which came to mid-thigh and this time I noticed Byron’s eyes never leaving me. Nitin hadn’t been exaggerating, this guy really did have the hots for me. The thought was both thrilling and dangerous.

After dinner we sat in the lounge drinking wine while the boys played X-Box in their room.

“Thing is,” Byron said, “that I’m a highly sexed man, but I’m not ready to get into a deep relationship again so soon.”

Nitin and I both nodded in agreement.

“At the same time,” the older man continued, “I’m not really into one-night stands, specially with some young bimbo I pick up in a bar.”

“There’s plenty of older women out there, Byron, divorcées and that sort,” Nitin said, but Byron shook his head.

“It’s my experience that these older women are actually looking for long-term relationships and are only offering sex as a lure. If I take them up on it I’m cheating them, cause like I say, I’m not in the market for settling down again for a while.”

“Well,” I said, refilling his glass, “it seems to me like you’ve boxed yourself into a corner with your honesty.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but all I’m looking for is nice, friendly, comfortable sex with no complications.”

“I’m sure you could get that,” I encouraged him, “a good looking guy like you.”

“Are you offering?” he asked with that dazzling smile.

“Byron!” I scolded, “I’m a married woman, not a slut.” I looked despairingly over at Nitin, whose face was a blank.

“Sluts sell it, Vishu, and I’m not buying. Never have paid for pussy in my life and never will.”

“If you’re looking for comfortable sex with no complications maybe you should,” I said waspishly.

“Should I have to, when there’s hot ladies like you around?”

“But I’m married,” I repeated, “and there sits my husband. Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, propositioning me while he’s sitting there?”

He sipped his wine, very casually. “Either one of you can say no and I’ll never mention it again.”

“I don’t cheat on my husband,” I said emphatically, the colour high in my cheeks.

“Which makes you a good woman, but it’s not cheating if he knows about it.”

I looked pleadingly over at hubby and he seemed to sense my disquiet.

“Give us time to think about it, Byron,” he said gravely. “This is a big step for both of us and we don’t want to rush into anything.”

“Sure,” Byron replied, toasting us with his glass, “I don’t want to be forcing you into anything you don’t want to do.”

It was the same promise that Nitin had made to me over the phone and I realised that in the end the decision would have to be mine. Would my curiosity and my lust for novelty win, or my need to remain as a respectable housewife? At that moment I just didn’t know. That night, with matters a little clearer, I was even wetter than before and Nitin was very forceful with me again. It was wonderful and for some reason I asked Nitin, as he plunged in and out of me, “Have you cheated on me, hon?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“I just thought maybe this was your way of repaying me. By allowing me to have sex with another man.”

He paused in his exertions. “No, nothing like that. This is something that gives me a buzz and I know it turns you on. I want us both to enjoy ourselves and be happy, as long as it doesn’t threaten our marriage.” That would be the crucial thing, I thought, whenever extra-marital sex reared its beautiful head, that it didn’t threaten the core relationship. But I was solid with Nitin. We had history, we had kids, nothing could threaten that.

What I had deliciously in prospect was not only extra-marital sex, but extra-marital sex with a Big Black Cock.

Nitin had settled into a smooth rhythm atop me.

“Will you want to watch?” I asked him.

“No, but you can tell me about it later.”

That was a disappointment, I’d quite looked forward to ‘performing’ for hubby, to be his own personal porn star. But something else worried me. “Do you know how big Byron is? You know what they say.” “About black guys? Sure, but Marion took him for 20 years and she was *****.”

It was true, Marion was petite, and if she could manage whatever Byron had in his pants, surely I could.

“Keep talking about it,” he urged.

So, after years of silent fucking, he’d wanted me to be more vocal all the time.

I was happy to oblige.

“Will you want sloppy seconds? You know, with his cum still inside me?”

“Maybe,” he grunted and I could tell the thought excited him.

“You don’t mind me giving him it bareback?”

“Well, I know you hate condoms.”

It was true, I thought of them as passion killers, barriers to true pleasure.

“Will it affect your relationship with him at work?”

“Don’t talk about work, talk about him fucking you.”

“Can I take him in my ass?”

“Hey, you don’t even let me up there!”

“I know,” I giggled, “I’m only teasing. But I might let him if his cock’s half the size of yours.”

“I doubt that.”

“He could be. All black men can’t be huge.”

“Don’t know about that, but I don’t think Byron’s got a small one.”

“Do you really want me to be a slut for black cock?”

He was speeding up. “Just this one, for now. Later, we’ll see.”

I felt myself beginning to come, that little under-current that built up to a wave. I dug my fingernails into his ass and he started pumping me harder and harder. I was gasping, unable to talk any more and bit into Nitins shoulder as we both came. I, just perfectly, slightly before him.

We both knew, without me ever saying anything, that I was going to go through with it. The only thing still to organise was the time and place of my introduction to a BBC. Finally we decided that I’d feel more comfortable in my own home, though this left us with the problem of the kids. As I’ve already said they were in the habit of going over to Nitin’s Mom on a Saturday night which solved that, and left my husband a night in their room while I and my lover would occupy the marital bed. Nitin especially liked the idea of slipping into a still-warm bed in the morning and screwing me directly my visitor had left.

I wanted it to be special, not just a sordid, casual, adulterous, fuck. I’d slept with other men, but it had been a long time ago, before Nitin. This was a new departure for me and I wanted to mark it out in my life. So, I suggested to Nitin that we should throw in a little role play to make the occasion extra spicy. He was a bit unsure, but my enthusiasm for the idea eventually over-whelmed him. What I suggested was that the two men should play poker for the right to bed me, with Nitin obviously losing if he still wanted me to have sex with Byron. This would still give him the opportunity, if he changed his mind, to play like the devil and win. I would head off to bed before they finished their game and I could lie there, unsure of who I was getting for a lover that night. The thought intrigued Nitin but he pointed out an obvious flaw. What if he changed his mind and still couldn’t win? I. never having played poker didn’t understand and Nitin had to explain that sometimes, no matter how good a player you were, the cards just didn’t fall right for you. I solved that by phoning Byron and telling him about my plan. Luckily he liked it and said that if he saw Nitin really trying to win he’d just let him, because he wasn’t interested in having me if Nitin didn’t approve.

With that resolved all I had to was wait, with trepidation and damp panties, for the approaching weekend. Nitin, bless him, was all nerves as well and I dreaded the fact that he might change his mind before we even got to Saturday. I spent a considerable time, therefore, in reassuring him with love, kisses and lots of sex. Every time the kids were out of the room I had my tongue down his throat and was clawing at his groin. The poor dear didn’t know what had hit him! I’d gone from being a very quiet little housewife to a raving sex-maniac. Of course, all my assaults on him were just foreplay, but I guaranteed him a good session when we finally made it to bed at night.

Come the Saturday we finally got the boys off to their Gran’s after lunch and, when Nitin returned after dropping them off, there was a curious distance between us. We still had a good few hours till Byron arrived and there seemed no reason why we shouldn’t have a little fuck by way of an aperitif, so I took my husband by the hand and led him to the bedroom. There was something I’d never let him do and which he desperately desired, and I thought that as he was being so kind to me, I should loosen my stays a little and give him what he wanted. Consequently, I pulled his jeans down and dropping to my knees took him in my mouth after telling him he could come in my mouth. It was neither as wonderful as the porn girls promised nor as disgusting as I imagined. Excited, he came quite copiously, his spunk bubbling from my lips even as I tried to swallow it down.

“Are you going to do that for him?” he asked, his hands still holding my head.

I popped his cock out of my mouth and said, “No, darling that was just for you, and I think I’ll keep it for special occasions.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing dinner, trying not to think of what was to come, but every time I went to the bathroom and checked, my panties were soaked, meaning I had to change them. If Byron hadn’t been invited for seven I’d have run out of underwear and had to sit through dinner commando.
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