Big Black Clubber
It was a week to the day since I had confessed my secret fetish to be cuckolded to my wife, Becky. After a long and deep conversation, and much to my surprise, Becky called her African American co worker, Duncan, practically right away and invited him over to come fuck her brains out.
Duncan exceeded in fucking Becky’s brains out and now she was as much of a cheating hotwife as I was a pathetic little cuckold.
It was crazy how much everything could change in just one week. My wife’s fidelity, our marriage, our wedding vows and our entire life, all had been shattered and were being rebuilt in the name of cuckolding.
Only one week since my wife had slept with another man for the first time and Becky and I were already having withdrawals from our new lifestyle. Honestly, I didn’t know which one of us was more eager for Becky to get out there and a bull that could just fuck the absolute shit out of her in a way that I simply never could, no matter how hard I tried.
We had spent the entire week since Duncan fucked my wife (or since the day after, as Becky needed a long, long, long recovery sleep after such a pounding) planning our next cuckold adventure.
Becky had come up with the idea to go clubbing.
“I’ve never had a one night stand or anything.” She had said, from her side of the bed. “Never had a man hit on me while out or anything. I want to do that. Find someone, be such a slut with them on the dancefloor that we’re practically fucking there and them let them take me back to their place to ravish!”
I got hard just hearing Becky speak like that, to know that she would actually do it, and soon, well, that me got me almost as turned on as Duncan cumming inside of her had.
I flipped onto my side, grabbed Becky and pulled her lips against mine. I wanted to be assertive and dominant and irresistibly sexy, nothing at all like the timid and insecure lover I usually was, but Becky wasn’t interested.
“Stop.” She pushed me away, frowning and shaking her head as if she had just eaten something that was rotten. “I’m turned on too, but I want to save it for the weekend, or the mysterious and alpha man who is going to turn me into a dirty little slut for one night.”
Becky turned onto her side, pressed her elbow into the bed and pushed her head up. “I don’t want to do anything until then. I want to be so turned on and hot and desperate and thirsty that I just can’t control myself and go crazy for him!”
Becky sighed and moved onto her back, staring up at the roof, imagining a man who was better than me in pretty much every way…
***
“So,” Becky said as she walked out of the ensuite. “How do I look, baby?”
Becky looked so fucking good that I actually stuttered when I tired to answer. “In… I… Incredible. Shit, Becky! I’ve never seen you look so God damn sexy!”
It was one hundred percent true too. Becky wore a pair of high heels that looped around her calves like gladiator boots. And then there was nothing until the bottom of her arse, which ended where Becky’s arse did (so fucking short!). There were no sides on the dress either, just a front and back that was tied together by a zig-zagging string, so you could see my wife’s skin from the hips all the way up, sideboob and all. I was mesmerized and already jealous of what man would get to take her home tonight. I wouldn’t even have had the courage to approach a woman as sexy as my wife looked in the outfit, no matter how drunk I got. Any man who did would have to have the confidence of a Roman senator.
Becky smiled at my compliment although I could tell she already knew how good she looked.
“Come on,” Becky said and moved toward the hallway, “let’s go clubbing and cucking.”
***
The club was packed. I immediately felt insecure and uncomfortable. Every guy there was in better shape than me and every woman was way out of my league. Becky fit right in though.
“Wow. This place is amazing!” She said. “I forgot how much fun clubbing could be!”
Becky looked around like a native tribesmen in New York City. I leaned toward and spoke into her ear.
“Can you see anyone that takes your fancy?”
Becky giggled and cupped her face in her hand. “We just go here! I haven’t even had a chance to look! Besides, like I told you, I’ve never done this and have no idea how to just go up and get picked up by a guy.”
I nodded at a guy at the bar. He was the typical sort of clubber. He had his shirt unbuttoned so it showed his athletic chest. “Just go up and ask him to buy you a drink. He’ll know what you want.”
Becky frowned at the guy. I could tell the guy didn’t take her fancy even though she just said: “That’s desperate, baby. Let’s just wait and enjoy ourselves and see what the night brings!”
Becky looked around for a free seat in the lounge and sat. But the moment her arse (so prominently presented in that tiny and skimpy dress) touched the couch, a man appeared Beylikdüzü travesti at my side.
He stared down at my wife without acknowledging me at all. He was black, bald and big with a body like an athlete’s. I knew that Becky was interested in him the moment she noticed him and looked up. Her eyes shot open and sparkled with lust.
“I couldn’t help but notice you. There’s just something about you.” The black man who I knew was going to take my white wife home later said. “Then I noticed you had no drink and were about to sit down so came over to get you off that couch and onto the dancefloor with a shot and martini in each hand.”
It wasn’t a question. There was no ambivalence or argument. This man had presence, charisma and a dominance that I could barely even comprehend. He extended a hand to my wife and my wife willingly took it. I saw the man notice the wedding ring on Becky’s hand and then ignore it as he pulled her up to her feet.
I turned to watch this mysterious and alpha black man lead my wife through the crowd. I didn’t want to be left out of the festivities and followed. Or tried to follow. Where the club-goers had happily parted for my wife and her new friend, they made no such effort for me and I had to push my way through them like an insect in a spiderweb.
By the time I made it through, the man was ordering my wife her drinks. He had one elbow on the bar top and his other hand on my wife’s back. How could a man be so smooth and so confident with a woman he just met? I would never know.
Three glasses appeared before them. Becky picked one up and emptied it in one gulp. Then they each sipped a glass each and chatted. Or the man chatted. Becky mainly just laughed and blushed. Once, as Becky was taking another sip of her drink, the man said something that Becky found so funny she couldn’t help but burst out laughing mid sip and snorted her drink everywhere, even on her date.
The man laughed it off. Becky jumped out of her seat and tried to pat the alcohol off the man’s clothes, making sure to cop a feel of the hard body that was hidden beneath the material. The man grabbed Beckey’s hands and told her: “It’s alright, not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.” (At least, that was the impression I got).
The man held Becky’s hands for a little while longer, their eyes locked. Then, he let go. Becky blushed even deeper, looked away and brushed some hair behind her ear.
I had to get closer, over there somehow, and make myself a part of this.
I took a deep breath and closed the gap between me, my wife and the man she was flirting with. I leaned on the bar behind her back and ordered myself a drink. Or tried to. The bar staff all but ignored me and focused on their better looking clientele.
“How about that dance?” The man asked my wife.
Becky brushed some more hair behind her ear. “I’d love that.”
The man took my wife’s hand in his and was just about to lead her over to the dancefloor when he noticed me still waiting to get served. He came over to stand next to me, waved a bartender down and then said: “help my friend out here,” and, with the hand that wasn’t holding my wife’s, he patted me on the back and said: “there’s nothing I hate more than discriminatory bar staff.”
Then he turned around and pulled my sexy and slutty wife behind him. Becky ignored me, so flustered by this new man who almost seemed to possess a God-level of power.
Luckily for me, my wife and her new man (I still get erotic shivers saying that) danced on the edge of the dancefloor so I could see them fine from my vantage point at the bar. I leaned back on the bar top, sipped my drink and watched my wife slut it the shit up.
Seeing anyone dance as slutty as Becky was would have been mind blowing but to see my wife out there like that with another man – that was universe shattering beyond belief!
Becky looked so free and happy out there, rolling her hips, shaking her arse and letting her arms dangle. Even this mysterious black man she was dancing with, the one who had shocked me with his calm and cool confidence, barely knew how to handle such a hot piece of arse.
There was a bubble around my wife and her man, watching in awe and jealousy. The other women wanted to attract the same amount of attention but couldn’t even come close to moving the way my wife did. That the men they were dancing with kept peeking over to steal a glimpse of my slut of a wife only seemed to make the women more bitter toward Becky.
Becky didn’t notice them at all though. The only things on her mind were the music and the black man behind her. Becky shoved her arse into the man’s crotch, pressing it in there as far as she could, and grinded up and down, backwards and forwards, around and around. Then, with her arse still on top of the man’s cock, Becky bent forward and started twerking.
I finished my drink and left the bar behind for the toilet. Beer always made me pee. There was a line at the Beylikdüzü travestiileri door but it moved quickly and I was soon enough emptying my bladder into a urinal.
When I returned to my perch by the bar, I couldn’t see Becky and her mysterious man anywhere. Have they left without me? Did I miss my chance to see my wife have her first one night stand with a complete stranger? I was horrified but then noticed them off to the side next to one of the pillars on the dancefloor.
Becky had the man pinned up against the pillar, her arms around his neck, her tits against his chest, and her tongue in his throat. It was the sort of skanky and kinky kiss you would expect from someone dressed in something so skimpy.
Becky was wild and erratic. She opened her mouth wide and threw her tongue around with wild abandonment. Half of the time they were barely even kissing and were just sticking their tongues out and licking each others, and occasionally biting each other’s lips.
It had been unexpected, to say the least, but the suddenness and surprise of the whole situation just made it that much hotter!
Becky ended the kiss and forced herself off the man. The look on her face was rabid and deranged. I had never seen anything like it. She whipped her phone out, bashed the screen and then grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him off the pillar towards the exit of the club.
My phone beeped in my pocket and I pulled it out to see that Becky had just sent me a text message.
“We’re going now,” was all it said.
I didn’t know if it was an invitation or not but ran toward the exit in hot pursuit. I had been on the outside all night and wasn’t about to give up front row seats to another man banging the shit out of my wife!
I saw Becky and her man get into the back of a taxi and managed to catch it just before the taxi pulled out. I opened the front door and jumped in the passenger seat, puffing from the little exercise I had just done.
The taxi driver looked at me like I was insane but Becky and her new friend were too busy making out to even notice me.
“I’m with them.” I said to the taxi driver between breaths. “Third wheel.”
The driver looked confused and tilted his head until he was looking at my wedding ring. Then she shook his head and peeled out into traffic.
I didn’t catch the name or occupation of Becky’s bull (I don’t even think she did either – tonight was about anonymous sex with a stranger) but the man’s address sure was fancy. A huge skyscraper in the Central Business District.
He didn’t take his hands or eyes off my wife as he threw a wad of cash at the taxi driver. He opened his door and Becky crawled out behind him. I jumped out of the front passenger door just in time to see the man pin my wife against the back of the taxi and shove his tongue in her throat one more time.
Then we were all off, stumbling toward the hotel entrance, my wife in the embrace of another man, me behind them somewhere between third wheel and stalker.
The building was so fancy that it had its own doorman and guard. The man didn’t make eye contact with either of them as he entered the building but I returned their stares with a self conscious smile. Do they know that it is my wife that this guy is about to bang?
In the elevator up to the man’s room, my wife and the man continued to ignore me. Becky had the man pinned up against the back wall of the elevator except she wasn’t attacking his mouth with her tongue this time so much as she was caressing it. They kissed slowly and sensually as if they were a married couple. I watched from my little corner.
Becky broke the kiss and stared up at the man. “Are you going to fuck me tonight?” Her voice was soft and sweet and innocent, somehow,
The man nodded and Becky’s smile grew.
“Are you going to make me scream tonight?”
The man nodded and Becky’s smile grew again.
“Are you going to make me cum tonight?”
The man pushed some hair behind Becky’s ear and then leaned forward to whisper: “Multiple times.”
Becky giggled and looked down. I followed her eyes and noticed she was feeling the guy’s cock from the outside of his jeans. As my wife played with this man’s penis, his pants became tighter and tighter until I could see the shape of his rock hard dick between Becky’s fingers.
Becky felt him turn stiff too. She locked the man’s cock in her hands and smiled up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth.
The elevator stopped and the door slid open. Becky grabbed the man’s jacket and pulled him out of the elevator backwards. The man steered her to his door and pushed her against the outside of it. They clashed and made out and grinded. The man dug around in his pockets and somehow managed to open the door without taking his other hand or lips off my wife. The door flung open and Becky and the man shot inside. There was a lamp already turned on inside the room and the pair used the faint light to travesti Beylikdüzü stumble over to what was obviously the man’s bedroom. I followed them inside and closed the door behind me.
Becky stopped at the doorway and pushed the man inside. I saw him land on a huge King sized bed. Then, Becky reached down and ripped her dress up and over her head. She dropped it on the ground and stood there for a moment to let the man take the view in.
Becky had no bra on (which I had known before leaving tonight) and her naked back was incredibly sexy. But I was surprised to see that my wife was wearing a thong and her arse cheeks were mesmerizing. I stumbled toward them like an insect to a buzzer.
Slowly, so, so, so slowly, Becky strutted toward the man in his bed. He was too stunned by my wife’s incredible body that he didn’t even notice me behind her in his lounge room.
Becky must have heard my heavy footsteps because when she was only a couple of steps inside the room, she turned around, grabbed the door with one hand and used her other hand to block me from entering the man’s bedroom.
Becky shook her head seductively. “Uh-Uh. Not tonight.”
She pushed me backwards and threw the door closed in my face, blocking me from experiencing the very thing I had begged her to do. I was angry, jealous and sad! I mean, we were meant to be in this together. I thought we had a deal. Becky could do whatever she liked with other men but I got to watch! This, this was just her cheating, right?!
I heard the clink of Becky’s heels walk on the man’s hardwood bedroom floor. She was moving slowly, seductively, like a woman who truly understood the power of her sexuality. Then, I heard the squeak of bedsprings and the footsteps quieted.
Next, came the sounds of clothes. Shoes, flys, buttons. Pants, shirts, briefs.
I pictured my wife ripping the man’s clothes off and then staring down at his chiseled body, as stunned by it as the man had been by her equally fit physique. I don’t know why but I had the image – or the premonition – of the man leaning up and taking my wife’s nipples in his mouth. As if to confirm this, I heard bed springs and then one of my wife’s breathy moans.
Becky inhaled deeply and loudly and then moaned again as if she were already on the verge of cumming.
“Fuck me baby.” Becky said in a high pitched pop star-like voice.
The man grabbed my wife so hard that I heard it through the door. Becky screamed – surprised but ecstatic – then there was a rumble of bed springs and, suddenly, nothing…
Until Becky started to gasp. She was breathing so loud that it was like she was almost dying. The gasps filled with her voice and became moans. They too got louder and, in no time at all, Becky was screaming her head off.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Every syllable, literally screamed out at the top of her lungs.
I also heard the mattress squeaking rhythmically, like a basketball bouncing up and down, faster, faster, harder, harder, dribble, dribble, dribble.
“Oh, yes! Fuck! Yes!” My wife half screamed and half sighed.
The sound of her skin slapping against the man’s echoed, like a nail being slammed by a hammer.
Although I had absolutely no idea what was going on in the man’s bedroom, I would have assumed that Becky was sitting on top of him, riding his big black cock with everything that she had, going up and down like a jackhammer. But maybe that was just because I knew so few sexual positions….. Who knows?
Becky sounded absolutely insane though. “Oh my God. Your cock! I love it! I love it! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me like your own little white whore!”
I heard Becky gasp and the bedroom fell into silence. Then, the sexual noises returned three fold.
“Yes! Fuck me with your big black cock! I love it! I love it! Oh, yes God! Yes! Fuck! Fuck me!” Becky screamed louder than a whole team of cheerleaders. “Fuck me baby! Your little white slut! Yes! Take me! Like that, like that! Dominate me! Enslave me! Do whatever you want, my pussy is all yours!”
I wondered if this man had neighbors and if they were used to hearing happily married women turn into the world’s biggest sluts.
I loved hearing my wife speak – or scream – so dirty, but I still would have rathered to be in there, seeing it, smelling it, experiencing it. I still just had no idea how the man was fucking my wife and what he was doing to make her scream like she was.
The whole situation was so different from last week with Duncan. And not just in the obvious ways like us knowing Duncan beforehand and me watching, and even to an extent engaging with, my wife and another man.
Becky’s fuck-fest with Duncan had been intimate and almost romantic, but this one sounded barbaric by comparison. Becky screamed and made noises I didn’t even know were humanly possible. The bed squeaked like an unoiled gate in a hurricane – up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down – and I could even hear the base of the King sized bed move and scratch the hardwood floors.
It was like an onion. Or a symphony of sex. There were layers to it.
At the top octave, the high pitched treble, was my wife’s vicious and mad screams, which occasionally spiraled down into deep guttural and base-like moans.
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