title; Utterly faithful
author; Ace [Storyace]
story codes; interr Mf mF FF FFM, orgy cons
Other keywords;  oriental

Summery; His Thai wife won't lie to him. That's why she has to act out each of those erotic stories he likes.

If you enjoyed this story [or even if you hated it], please write and let me know; mailto:storyace@hotmail.com

Utterly faithful;
I woke up this morning feeling wonderful.
After changing the bedding, I treated myself to a long hot bath; when my
skin had become soft, I scrubbed myself carefully.  I'm not a teenager
anymore, I told myself.  I'm 25 years old, and I must take care to maintain
my skin.  I shaved the sparse hair from my legs, as well as the thicker hair
around my groin.

I went to my appointment at the hairdresser.  It's taken time to become
accepted in this small Scottish town, but the girls at the hairdresser all
know me now, and we chatted away as they fixed my thick black hair into a
stylish wave.

I went home to complete the cooking I started yesterday.  As the magic time
approached, I dressed myself carefully.  High-heeled shoes and net stockings
did much to improve me, since my legs are unfortunately rather short.  I'd
bought a new green dress that fitted me perfectly, but barely covered me.
Carefully, I applied makeup around my mouth and eyes.  I sprayed some
perfume on my neck.  I filed and varnished my fingernails into perfect
smooth ovals.

And then I sat, and waited for my husband to arrive.
For today was the day he returned from his work in the sea.  My husband is
the manager of an oil rig, and must spend two months at a time away from
home.

I felt a flutter in my stomach as I saw his car approaching; as it pulled
into the drive, I could see his grizzled gray head, his smile of
anticipation.  His happy anticipation of returning to me.

I ran out into the drive, not wanting to delay our reunion for another
minute.  His face lit with joy, he laughed and put his powerful arm around
my tiny waist, and he spun around, sweeping me from my feet as he kissed me.
The stresses and strains of my time alone slipped away from me in his arms;
it was so good to have my husband home with me again.

I know what he wants when he returns.

I have everything prepared for him; his favorite foods, videotapes of all
his favorite TV programs and sporting events.  The house is spotless, and
the garden immaculate.

But all of that is for later.  Because the first thing he wants, is me.

Effortlessly, he carried me inside, ignoring his small suitcase in the car.
My arms around his neck, I kissed him and nuzzled him in happy anticipation.

I was a virgin when I met him, only 18 years old.  We met through a marriage
agency in my home country, Thailand.

My father had arranged to marry me to a foreigner, so that he could obtain
the capital to buy a chicken farm.  I came from a small and very poor
family, my father and mother both had to work in the fields of others.

When I was 14, it was clear that I would be an attractive girl.  My parents
realized that I could be the one to lift them from poverty.  My two younger
brothers could be educated, my parents could have a secure old age.  We were
all very happy with the prospect.

My father could've had much more money by selling me to a brothel in
Bangkok.  But my father is a good man, and would never do something so
despicable.  All my family's efforts went to educating me, sending me to
school to learn English, as well as how to dress and walk like a lady
instead of a peasant girl.

Two months before my eighteenth birthday, I traveled with my father to the
nearby town, where foreigners often came to search for an oriental bride.

At 50, you might think that my husband was too old for me, but all the men
were his age or even older.  One man who wanted to marry me was 80 years
old.  He was very rich, but confessed that his children would be inheriting
the bulk of his wealth.

Arnold was the fourth man I was introduced to.  I liked him immediately, he
treated me very kindly.  He had calm friendly eyes, and didn't make any fuss
about the financial arrangements.

A short man by European standards, he was still taller than I.  His
shoulders were frighteningly wide, but I trusted him somehow.  I was sure he
was a man who would never harm me.

He showed me pictures of his house in Scotland, he told me of his work, how
he earned well and could retire in another 10 years.  He asked me if I would
like to marry him.

I said yes.

There was only one condition, he told me; one thing he wanted from me.  I
must be faithful to him.  Utterly faithful.  He had been married once
before, but his wife had lied to him, and been unfaithful.

I would, I promised him.  I would never lie to him, I would be faithful to
him.

Sometimes, this promise has been difficult for me to keep; but so far, I've
always been faithful to my husband, I've never told him a lie. I know that
that's very important to European people.

I was terribly afraid on our wedding night.  We were in a hotel in Thailand,
since it would take several months to arrange my immigration to Britain.
Some men had married girls there, lived with them for a month or two, and
then abandoned them.

But Arnold was sincere; he wanted a wife who would be faithful to him, and
love him.  I resolved to be that wife.

I knew what sex was; I had not experienced it, but I knew more or less what
to expect.  Fear and pain as the man has his way; but I must submit to his
whims, I was told.  No matter how terrible it was, it was the way of things.

After some time, I would get used to it.  It was the price that had to be
paid for my new life, for the security of my parents and brothers.

I trembled with fear as I undressed for him the first time.  But Arnold was
a different kind of man; he merely held in his arms that night, the whole
might long.  He held me like a baby in his strong arms, until my trembling
subsided.  The massive bulk of him lay still, and made no move to frighten
me or hurt me.  He just stroked my head and back, and held my body against
himself.

For five days, he abstained.  Until he had won my confidence, until I was
ready to submit to him without fear.  Only then did he take my virginity.

Gently, so very gently he made love with me.  He was experienced, he knew so
much more than I did.  I trusted him, I submitted to his desires willingly.
I was sure he wouldn't hurt me.

My faith was rewarded; for not only did he not hurt me, but he brought the
greatest pleasure I had ever known.

I knew his lips by then; Arnold was a man who enjoyed kissing, and we had
done that together a lot.  But his lips went everywhere; my back, my
shoulders.  My breasts, my feet.  My buttocks, my thighs; and at last, to my
virgin flower.

I was shocked by the feeling, at first.  It seemed too extreme, like a
bright color on a black and white landscape.  The intensity was frightening,
unlike anything I'd ever known.  Only my trust of him kept my terror at bay
as his tongue slid maddeningly up and down my lower lips.

When he put his penis against me, I welcomed him into my body.  I knew then
that I didn't know anything; I wanted my new husband to give me the
knowledge I was missing.  I wanted him to take me, take my virginity.  After
all, he had paid for it; he had a right to it.  He was my husband and
master, and I longed to surrender to him.

Nonetheless, there was some pain the first time.  And yet, even the pain
felt good; it was the pain of embracing my new life, of releasing my old
life.  It was the stripping away of my childhood, erasing my attachment to
my birthplace.

And then, he was inside of me.  I could feel him inside me, the sensation
coming from a place in my body that I had never felt before.  A place that
had developed inside me for this purpose, but without my knowledge.

The unaccustomed sensations grew as he slowly moved within me, probing me,
poking my insides with his experienced alien organ.

Everything was so new, everything so different to anything I'd ever known
before.  This man, this place.  The food we had eaten, even the water we had
drank.  But the sensation of sex was the most different of all.

I had made myself have orgasms before; lovely little fantasies with my
finger.  But Arnold gave me my first real orgasm.  And when he did, when I
looked into his kind brown eyes as those waves crossed me, I knew everything
would be all right.  I knew I could love him.

Whenever we've been apart for some time, the passion we experience at our
reunion is nearly as intense as that first experience; Arnold threw me on
our bed, and threw himself on top of me.  We kissed and grappled with each
other, before taking off our clothes.  Arnold is a large and strong man,
huge compared with me.  But I love the feel of his flesh against me, the
heat of his passion and the friendly stiffness of his penis.

I went down on him, as he taught me.  I licked his length, and rolled it
across my cheeks as I smiled at him.

He massaged my feet, knowing how it pleases me; he licked my clitoris,
knowing how it makes me wild.

He climbed between my thighs and penetrated me, until we both exploded in
pleasure, the fluids of his massive white body pumping madly into my little
oriental frame.

I served him his dinner, massaged his shoulders, and sat close to him as he
watched a game on television.  It was a wonderful blissful time.
At last, we returned to our bed.

"Do you have a story for me, darling?"  He asked as he turned off the light.
I nuzzled close to him, and he put his arm around me and caressed me.  I
rested my head on his strong shoulder, and stroked his soft penis.

"Yes."  I said simply.

Arnold loves stories.

"I've been having an affair with a young black man.  Well, a boy actually.
He's only 16."

In my hand, my husband's flaccid penis bulged slightly.
"Go on." He prompted.

"It started when I ordered pizza one evening.  I'd been studying, and I'd
forgotten to cook for myself.
"The boy was frighteningly lovely.  His skin so healthy and smooth, yet so
black.  He had a strange accent, I could barely understand him.  I asked him
to come inside while I searched for money.
"In the light, I could better see his figure.  He was very lean, his stomach
as flat as a board.  I thought to myself that it would make a very nice
story to tell you if I could seduce him; but at the same time, the idea was
very frightening. In my culture, we are taught that black people are very
barbaric, and the worst thing a woman could ever do was to have relations
with one.
"I stood very close to him as I counted the money into his dark palm.  I
wondered what I would feel were those fingers to caress me.  His face was so
fresh and unspoiled, his teeth were so white and even. He was lovely, even
though he was so black!
"I was standing only six inches from him, and I looked up into his clear
dark eyes; he was nervous, and very excited.  In a strange woman's house,
alone with her. Here in the west we pretend that's no big thing, yet we know
in our hearts that it is. In Thailand, a man does not enter a woman's house
when her husband is out. Unless he's her lover.
"I asked him how late he worked.  Until 10:30, he told me.  I asked him if
he could come back when he was through.  I told him I would like to make him
a cup of tea.
"It was wonderful how my little flirtation made him so agitated.  I was sure
he was a virgin; that somehow made me feel better about going ahead with it.
"I heard his moped pull up at 10:35.  He was eager boy, I thought.  I had
put on some makeup by then, and brushed out my hair.  I opened the door for
him, and as he stepped inside, I put my arms around him and held my body
against his."

My husband's penis was now fully erect.  I massaged it lovingly as I
continued.

"He was wonderfully strong, not like you are; in a different way, he was
strong.  Like a healthy boy, instead of a mature man.  His penis was stiff
in his trousers, I could feel it against my thigh.
"Right there, just inside our front door, I began to kiss him.  He was so
wonderful and smooth, and his bum was tight and round.  His young arms held
me tightly, crushing me against himself as he kissed me eagerly.
His excitement was contagious, I felt swept up by his happy energy.
We didn't say anything, the first time we were together, neither of us said
more than a few words the whole time.  We were both nervous, but we knew
what we wanted.  I wanted to take his virginity, to show him the beauty of
sex.  I wanted his fresh young body.  And he wanted the same from me.
"Despite how nervous he was, and despite the fact he had no experience at
all, he was not a bad lover.  He kissed me gently, he stroked my neck and
shoulders.  He held me tightly, his strong hand in the small of my back; he
ran his fingers over my bum, and then he pulled up my skirt, and ran his
fingers over my naked ass.
"I broke away from him, to remove my clothing.  I took off everything, so I
was completely naked.  I smiled at him, and approached him again; this was
very exciting for me, since I had never been the elder party in a
relationship before.  I ran my fingers up his torso with my thumbs hooked
into his T-shirt, pulling it over his dark head.
"He had strange hair that's in fashion with the black people these days,
like thick spaghettis.  But his body more than made up for it; he didn't
have an ounce of fat on him.  The muscles of his stomach and chest were
clearly visible through his thin black skin. His breathing was short and
heavy, and his eyes were wide as he looked at my exposed body. Of course by
then he knew it was really happening, he was about to know a woman for the
first time.
"Still standing in the hall, I unbuckled his trousers, and reached inside.
His young penis was hot, hard, and quite large.  I kissed him, my naked
breasts against his, my pale flesh against his dark flesh, my lips against
his young lips, my tongue reaching into his mouth slightly.
"I led him in here, to our bed.  He sat on the edge as I removed his shoes,
and then his trousers and underwear.  I knelt at his feet, between his long
dark legs. His penis was wonderful; dark, black, young, and untried.
"I stroked it in my hands, as the two of us became even more aroused. I
played with his smooth young balls.  I found the urge irresistible, and I
went down on him.  It felt so good in my mouth, the black cock of the boy.
He shook all over as I sucked him, and then he grabbed and held my head in
his hands as he came in my mouth.
"He had much more than you do; it kept flowing and flowing, until I thought
there was too much for me.  But I managed to swallow in between, and so it
was all right. It tasted wonderful, different and yet the same as I'd had
before.
"I was surprised that he didn't get soft; it stayed just as big and potent.
I got into bed on my back, and he climbed on top of me. I spread my legs,
and I held his big black penis in my hand, I held it against myself as he
pushed it inside my body."

I had to stop my story while I sucked on my husband's penis. He likes that
so much.

I lay between his thick powerful legs and stroked him with my hands again so
I could continue;

"It felt very good as it entered me; I was very wet by then, itchy with
anticipation, and it seemed so good to be filled by him.
His heavy ropes of hair fell in my face, but his tight young body on top of
me was wonderful.
By instinct, he mostly knew what to do, but I told him to lift upward a bit
so his big cock would rub my clitoris as he did it.
"The boy fucked and fucked me; he was incredible. I must admit, I never
expected such endurance."
"You came?" my husband asked, speaking for the first time since the story
began.
"Yes, of course. Many times that night; the boy did it to me for almost an
hour."
"An hour? Not very realistic. I don't think anyone can really do it for an
hour."
"But he did, darling, he did!" I squealed, "He was just sixteen, and black,
and he fucked me for an hour without stopping, and I came six times!"
My husband threw me onto my back at that point, and put his rejuvenated
penis where we both like it best.
He held me helplessly in his powerful arms, and pounded me to satisfaction.

I gave him breakfast in bed the next morning; as he finished, he asked me to
continue the story.

"Well, the pizza boy came over several times a week after that. He always
came late, and left again before dawn, so no one would see. I told him he
could see me as often as he liked, until your time to come home, but that it
would be over after that. And of course no one should ever see or know."
"I thought you would like to see him again after I return to the rig."

"He is just too young! He has too much energy for me. I had no strength left
for Laura and Dillon, and I'd promised them I'd spend another night with
them. And I had also wanted to get together with the old man from the
pharmacy, remember? You were looking forward to that story, too.
"Anyway, I knew it was only for a few weeks, and I wanted to teach him
everything, as well as have some more to tell you about.
"We took baths together. It was funny, since he was always hard, and his
cock would stick up out of the water. I taught him to lick me, even my
asshole. We did it in different positions, almost every one from the book!
He is very flexible. But mainly, he would just do it to me straight. All
those other ways are fun to try, but they don't really work very well.
I always sucked him off first, since if he came inside me too soon it was a
bit icky afterwards when he would keep going."

Once more, my husband was ready for action; he needed no more.
He did it to me again, delighting me for the third time since he'd arrived,
less than 24 hours earlier.

"Black cock." I whispered in his ear as he pumped me, "Big young black
 cock!" until he came.

"You would never really be unfaithful to me, would you?" he asked me
afterwards, as our passions cooled.

"Of course not." I reassured him, kissing him one last time before rising to
start preparing lunch.

Often, I do the most outrageous things, just so I'll be able to amuse my
husband with the story when he returns.  I admit though, that I frequently
enjoy it.

Sometimes, I'm tempted to just make the stories up, but I promised my
husband I'd never lie or cheat. He would be so disappointed if I did, and he
found out. Faithfulness is so important to him.


Appendix 1; the first story, with another woman and her husband

Appendix 2; with a much older man

Appendix 3; gang bang

As I told this story to my husband, I stroked his stiff dick in our bath, as
it poked up between my legs. His fingers were playing with my clitoris, and
I was as excited by him as he was by me and my story.

I twisted my neck so that Arnold could kiss my mouth, the mouth that had
given pleasure to so many, but really only desired him.

I rolled over, and settled my body onto his cock. I filled myself with it,
reveling in the feeling of him; I had been with so many men by then, younger
and more handsome men, men with huge cocks and rippling muscles, men with
great humor, men with considerable wealth.

But it was Arnold that I loved, big old Arnold, gruff and simple. Because he
was my husband, because only he loved me. Others appreciated my body, but
Arnold loved me everywhere.

"I want to get pregnant." I told him.
"Are you sure?"  He asked, looking at me intently. "You know I enjoy the
stories," he said, "but sometimes it makes me think that you don't really
want to stay faithful to me."

"But I love being faithful to you."  I told him, "It's what I want Arnold,
it's all I want."

One thing my Arnold can't stomach is lies.  I find it so touching how he's
always asking me if I've been lying to him, or if I've been faithful.
That's why I never simply make those stories up.  Every word I tell Arnold
must be the truth, I must never hurt him with lies as his first wife did.
He put his arms around me and pulled my face to his mouth, he kissed me as
his sturdy cock filled me with that feeling that only Arnold gives me, that
wonderful feeling that can only come from the lover you love.

I rode his cock in the hot water, my breasts soft against his broad hairy
chest, my arms around his thick neck. I kissed his mouth, eyes, ears, and
throat.

My husband's powerful arms held me, his huge hands spanned my back.  He
began to stiffen, and I felt his great cock quiver.

The idea that the fluid pumping into my middle might be about to make me
pregnant drove me wild with desire, a greater and more pure desire than I'd
ever known before.  Of course it would be some time before the effects of
the contraceptive pills I normally took would recede.  But it didn't matter,
what mattered was the idea; this was no tawdry sex between strangers, this
was my husband and I making love, making babies.

His hot brew squirted deep up inside me, into my very womb.  Looking into my
husband's wise old eyes, the warmest most wonderful orgasm I'd ever known
filled me with a joy too intense to describe.

There will be no more stories for a while, none with other men, at least.
Not until after our first child is well on the way; I wonder if I will still
enjoy sex when I'm pregnant?
I'll just have to find out when the time comes.
Ace, 2008

If you enjoyed this story [or even if you hated it], please write and let me know; mailto:storyace@hotmail.com