DISCLAIMER:- The following text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times.

Acknowledgement. I freely admit that this story is written in the style of “Joe the Cuckold” whose stories have been so inspirational to me. Hopefully, he will be honored rather than offended by my decision to emulate him.

My wife’s reaction when our host introduced us to Jackson confirmed my chronic
suspicions that her unladlylike fascination with professional sports might
conceal an erotic fixation. Jackson was a promising, young professional boxer
who wouldn’t have been bothering to attend a corporate New Years Eve party if
our host hadn’t been his sponsor. The young man stood well over six feet tall
and while he must have weighed at least 250 pounds, I’m convinced that there
wasn’t an ounce of fat on his powerfully muscled body. I guess I should also
mention that his skin is a deep, ebony tone. To be blunt, he was the blackest
black man I’d ever met.

Although Karen has always been disaproving of corporate parties where alcahol
is served because heavey drinking so often leads to vulgar behavior, she’d not
objected to my accepting this invitation. I’d calmly accepted her explaination
that since she’d asked to came along on this business trip with me so that we
could have some time together away from our children, she shouldn’t object.
However, I’d noticed that she’d become eager to attend the party when I told her
that Jackson would be there. She’d been so impressed with the young athlete
when she saw him in a boxing match on satellyte television that she’d
immediately recognized his name when I mentioned it. My wife had even insisted
on going out shopping for a new dress to wear to the occassion. Although she
usually dresses modestly, the simple, wrap around style, blue dress that she’d
purchased was definately styled to flaunt rather than conceal her womanly
charms. She’d also decided to finally indulge my desires
by wearing a sexy bra, panty, garter belt and stocking set that I’d given her
for the trip. I’d been too elated to see her finally dressing provocatively for
a change to voice my suspicions that she’d done so to make an impression on
Jackson than to please me.

When we arrived at the address that our host had given me, we were both
impressed by the size of his home. Because of my business dealings, I’d known
that the client was wealthy. However, the house displayed a level of opulence
and prosperity that I hadn’t suspected. As we approached the massive double
doors, my wife stopped to do a final check on her hair and makeup. Then she had
carefully adjusted the neckline of her dress so that it revealed more than just
a tasteful hint of her cleavage.

One paradox about my wife that has confused me over the years is that in spite
of her normally straight laced demeanor, she will sometimes indulge in the
coquettish behavior that is a part of her Southern upbringing. Although her
playful flirtatiousness sometimes made me jealous, I had long since learned to
accept that it was perfectly innocent. Watching her turn on her antebellum
charm as our host introduced us to Jackson provoked a pang of anxiety that I
hadn’t felt during all the years since our wedding. The way Karen toyed with
the ornate crucifix that hung on a gold cross around her kneck might have been
nothing more than an absent minded expression of her nervousness. However, it
was obvious to me that the gesture was intended to draw Jackson’s attention to
her cleavage which was prominently displayed by the plunging kneckline of her
dress.

A more mature man would have simply enjoyed the show, but the arrogant, young
stud suprised my wife by reaching for her necklace as if to examine it. There
was little subtlety to conceal the way he allowed his fingers to brush against
the insides of her breasts as he grasped it. Rather than object to the
unexpected contact or try to withdraw from his touch, Karen just stood there and
calmly answered his inane questions as he used his examination of her crucifix
as a pretext to cop a feel. The way her big nipples swelled to attention until
they showed prominently through the fabric of her dress left no doubt that she
was enjoying Jackson’s insolent attention. Emboldened by her response, he
allowed his fingers to slip under the neckline of her dress. Although I could
see the tips of his brushing her nipple, she seemed to be so mezmerized by his
attentions that she made no objection!

I was grateful when Jackson finally stopped caressing Karen’s breast and slowly
drew her hand to his lips. The anachronistic act of kissing her hand was an
obvious pretention to me, but she was obviously impressed with his genteel
mannerisms and flattered by the attention. She giggled like a school girl when
he asked her if they could share a dance together later. At that moment I came
to the humiliating realization that if the arrogant young stud decided that he
wanted her, my respectable, church going, almost straight laced wife would be
his for the taking.

Feelling threatened and embaresseded by Karen’s receptive response to Jackson’s
provocative overtures, I ushered her away from the foyer as quickly as decorum
would allow. As I lead her to the spacious living room of my boss’ mansion, I
tried to console myself with the idea that such a virile, young stud couldn’t be
seriously interested in a forty year old housewife and mother. After all, she
was literally old enough to be his mother! Anyone looking at my wife could see
the effects that time and repeated pregnancies had wrought on her once petite
body. Her hips had widened considerably and in spite of her determined efforts
to diet and exercise, her belly which had once been flat and firm had became
soft and gently rounded. While the small, pert breasts of her youth had gained
a few cup sizes, she was no Dolly Parton and nursing her babies had caused her
tits to become flabby so that the sagged pendulously. However, as I watched
Karen swaying through the crowd, I reali
zed just how sexy and desirable her classic, hourglass figure was. Her bra
offerred just enough support to make her breasts appear youthful while still
allowing them the freedom to swing and sway enticingly in response to her
movements. I was dismayed by the realization that while she was no supermodel,
her maternal attributes gave her an auroa of fecund feminity that could easily
inspire a virile young stud like Jackson to plant his sperm in her still fertile
womb.

Since my wife had long ago resolved to imbibe only moderately, I was suprised
when she suddenly began to resist my guidance to lead us to the bar. As we
caught the bar tender’s attention, she’d said, “Why don’t you buy me a drink?”

“You’ve already had several glasses of wine over dinner and two is usually your
limit,” I’d replied disaprovingly.

“I don’t care. It is New Years Eve and I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

When I reluctantly agreed, she’d suprised me by ordering a screwdriver instead
of wine, then suprised me again by using the fact that the bar was hosted as an
excuse to ask for a double.

In an effort to restore Karen’s sense of propriety, I’d warned her, “You better
be careful to not drink too much or you’ll end up embaressing yourself.”

“What makes you say that?” she’d replied.

Although I was reluctant to provoke an argument, I could no longer remain
silent about my concerns. “I saw the way you behaved when we were introduced to
Jackson.”

My wife just giggled as she asked innocently, “Did I make you jealouse?”

Reluctantly, I’d responded, “Yes, a little bit. But it is more than that. We
are at the home of one of my companies biggest clients. It wouldn’t be good for
my career if people got the impression that my wife is a slut.”

Karen responded by taking a step back so that her well rounded butt was pressed
against my groin and my rampant erection was nestled in her crack. Up until
that moment, I hadn’t realized that my penis had become swollen with arousal.
She’d teasingly asserted, “Relax, we’re thousands of miles from home. The only
person here who even knows who I am is your client and he didn’t seem to object
to my behavior.” She’d paused for a moment to rub her shapely butt against my
erection before going on, “Besides, it’s obvious that you really aren’t angry
with me about it. It actually turned you on to see me flirting with Jackson,
didn’t it.”

Betrayed by my own, engorged manhood, I was forced to admit the truth. “Yes,
it did a little bit. I guess seeing him come on to you reminded me of just how
beautiful you are.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Karen had replied. “You promise you will not
object to my dancing with Jackson or get upset with me if he takes a few
liberties on the dance floor?”

Although I had a premonition that I was giving my wife my blessing to do far
more than just dance with another man, I’d reluctantly responded, “I promise.”

She’d giggled and said, “That’s a good boy,” as she reached behind her to
playfully squeeze my penis.

My wife and I spent the next few hours chit chatting with other people. I was
acutely aware of the tantalizing view all the men were getting of her deep
cleavage. When the band started playing, we danced together for a while. I
must confess that the attention that was provoked by her voluptuous body as she
swayed to the music provoked a sense of possesive pride. When the band played a
slow song, I’d pulled her close to me so that she could feel the proof of my
arousal pressing against her soft belly. I’d leaned close to whisper in her
ear, “Let’s leave the party early. Mayby we could go park somewhere like we
used to do during our engagement?”

Karen had smiled at me and giggled, “I’m glad you’re interested, but I left my
diaphragm in our hotel room. Besides, it isn’t even midnight yet and I haven’t
had a chance to dance with Jackson yet. Mayby I’ll even get a chance to share a
New Year’s kiss with him.”

Still hopeful that I could overcome her objections, I pleaded, “You know you
can trust me to be careful, but if you’re really worried about it I’d settle for
just doing some heavey petting.”

I could tell that the idea the idea appealed to her. Her lips were moving
almost imperceptibly as she silently counted the days since her last period
before she finally said, “No, it’s too risky. After so many years of marriage,
I’ve become to accustomed to not have to resist temptation to trust myself to
not go all of the way.”

I immediately realized that my wife’s refusal was motivated by more than just
caution. “Is it really that important to you?” I’d asked.

“Yes, I guess it is.” She’d replied. “I’m not certain why, but the idea that
I can still lure the attention of a young stud like Jackson makes me feel better
about myself.”

“You mean a young, black stud, don’t you?” There it was, the subject that had
remained tabboo for so many years was finally out in the open.

Karen had paused for a while before answering, “Yes, I guess I do. I’ve always
wonderred if all of those whisperred rumors and innuendoes that I’d heard while
growing up in Klan country about how virile and well endowed black men are were
really true. Mayby this is my chance to finally satisfy my curiosity.”

I took a moment to think about the implications of what my wife had just said
before I asked her, “Can you promise me that I can trust you to not go to far
with him?” It wasn’t until after I’d finished the question that truly
appreciated the implications of my own words. I felt a cold knot jealousy and
anxiety forming in my gut as I thought about what had qualified as “not to far”
during our courtship and engagement.

My wife’s delay in answering my question only escalated my anxiety. She
blushed with embaressment and looked down at our feet so that she didn’t have to
meet my eyes as she thought about it. Was she also reminiscing about our
engagement? I could see her biting her lip the way she always does when she’s
uncertain of a decision. She’d finally smiled at me as she responded, “I’ll
promise I’ll keep my panties on if you’ll promise me that there will be no
questions or recriminations later.”

I knew that our marriage would never be the same as I stammerred, “I promise.”

Once we had reached our agreement, my wife seemed to loose interest in dancing
with me. We both noticed Jackson flirting and dancing with several other women
at the party. The expression of envy and irrational jealousy on Karen’s face
made it obvious that she was now the one who was feelling threatened because her
rivals were younger and either thinner or better endowed than she was. I began
to pray that Jackson would select one or more of these bimbos to be his
companion for the evening or at least become too distracted to pay attention to
my spouse.

I was dismayed when Jackson finally abandoned his other paramours to arrogantly
saunter over to us, obviously intent on claiming his prize. Since it was barely
fifteen minutes before midnight, it looked like they might be able to share that
New Years kiss that my wife had been hoping for. The band’s decision to play
faster music made me hopeful that the contact between them wouldn’t become too
intimate. However, Jackson had pulled Karen close to him as they gyrated to the
fast paced beat. We’d heard about freak dancing on the news before, but had
never seen it in person much less participated in it. My wife seemed to be a
fast learner. She’d eagerly rubbed her buttocks, breasts and groin against
Jackson’s body in an uninhibited display of sensuality. She’d made no objection
as his hands roamed over first her hips, then her buttocks, then finally her
breasts. She even allowed him to reach inside the neckline of her dress to
fondle her.

Fearful of what people might think of the shameful spectacle that my wife was
making of herself, I looked around the room to see how they were reacting. I
was relieved to see that several other couples were also indulging in some dirty
dancing. There were several other, obviously mature, married women who were
dancing with men who were obviously too young to be ltheir husbands.

Eventually, our host silenced the band to announce that it was almost midnight.
All of the couples on the dance floor stayed paired with their partners. It was
a relief to see that my wife would not be the only married woman to indulge in
an extramarriatal, New Years kiss. As they stood together waiting for the
countdown, Jackson reached down to the sash that held Karen’s dress closed.
When she made no protest as he loosened the knot, he quickly untied it allowing
her dress to fall open. I could see my wife’s body trembling as he slipped it
off her shoulders and allowed her expensive, new gown to fall to the floor. It
was amazing to see my normally prudish wife standing there passively wearing
nothing but her jewelry and lignerie. Even from across the crowded dance floor,
I could see her nipples and large, dark aerolaes showing through the lacey
fabric of her bra cups as well as her sparse, patch of crimpson pubic hair
through the filmy fabric of her panty.

When the clock stroked midnight, Jackson took my wife in his arms and drew her
too him to give her the kiss that she’d been hoping for. For some reason, the
sight of his full, dark lips pressing against hers was more disturbing than
seeing one of his hands reach down to caress her panty covered rear while the
other grasped one of her breasts. I could see her lips parting to allow him
access and her cheeks bulging as their tongues wrestled together. As their
embrace continued, Jackson lifted one of Karen’s breasts from its bra cup so
that he could feel her naked, pale flesh in the palm of his ebony hand. I also
noticed his other hand slowly pushing her panty lower and lower on her buttocks,
then shift position postion to ease the garments over her hips then down her
thighs until gravity could assert itself.

As I watched my wife’s panty slowly slide down to her ankles, I came to the
realization that unless I intervened she’d end up going all of the way with her
suitor. When the kiss ended, she’d listened intently as Jackson whisperred in
her ear. I had no doubt what they’d be talking about when she calmly stpped out
of her panty to let him lead her twards the foyer and its massive, ornate
staircase. As they passed by me, she paused to quietly say “I love you,” then
gave me a brief kiss and then, “thank you” before letting Jackson lead her away.
Most men probably would have either made a scene or quietly restrained their
wayward wives. I had quietly allowed them to go on there way. As the two,
would be lovers were ascending the stair case to reach the bedrooms on the
second floor, I walked over to where they’d shared their New Year’s Eve kiss to
retrieve her dress and panty.

Although none of the guests at the party seemed to be paying any attention to
me, my shame and humiation forced me to seek the solitude of the patio. As I
stood there, trying to not think about what was going on, I noticed a spiral
stair case which led to a second floor balcony. Morbid curiosity compelled me
to climb the stairs so that I could start checking windows. I passed three
empty bedrooms before I found the confirmation of my fears.

Although my wife has always enjoyed oral pleasuring, it was still a shock to
see her drop to her knees to worship Jackson’s manhood. Although he wasn’t of
legendary proportions, his penis was obviously longer and thicker than mine.
She was sucking on his massive glans while caressing the exposed length of the
shaft with both hands.

While Jackson’s penis was impressive enough, it paled in comparison to his
enormous set of testicles. I have no doubt that both of mine combined would not
have equalled one of his. The way their weight stretched his scrotal sack
suggested that they were saturated with sperm. I had no doubt that my wife was
about to be copiously inseminated.

When Jackson decided that it was time to move beyond oral pleasuring, he gently
grabbed Karen’s arms to lift her completely off her feet then set her on the
bed. She had parted her thighs wide with an eagerness that she’d never shown
with me. Jackson paused to rub some of the precum that was oozing from the tip
of his penis onto the bulbous glans to lubricate it. Then he began to rub
himself against her vaginal lips which were already red and swollen with desire.
Although my wife was a mature mother, it was obvious that he was larger than she
could comfortably accomodate. He had patiently used slow, short strokes to
stretch her as he gradually eased his manhood deeper and deeper into her birth
canal. Eventually, he could penatrate her no further as the glans of his penis
met her cervex.

Jackson now began to fuck my wife in earnest. I use the word “fuck” because
while they were kissing each other patientently, there was none of the affection
and tenderness that we share during our own love making sessions. This was
pure, uninhibited, animalistic fucking. She had her legs wrapped so tightly
around him that he was actually lifting her off the bed with each outstroke. As
he repeatedly plunged his penis into her, I could see copious quantities of his
precum clinging to the shaft with each outstroke. It wasn’t long before her
crimpson pubic hair was coated with a white lather of his semen.

After barely a minute Jackson brought Karen to her first climax. As her body
shudderred in orgasm, he put his entire weight behind his penis, forcing the
remaining few inches into her. The sight of his kinky, black pubic intertwining
with her red lockes was incrediably erotic. When she recovered, he resumed the
fucking with a vengence. He picked up the pace until his powerful body was
pummelling her pussy. It wasn’t long before he brought her to another,
prolonged orgasm. The sensation of her pelvic muscles spasming around his
manhood sent him over the edge. With a final, triumphant thrust, he’d plunged
his massive penis all of the way into her. I could see his butt cheeks
clenching and his enormous scrotal sack twithcing as he began to empty his balls
deep in her vagina. The sensation of his potent semen squirting into her only
prolonged her orgasm. I knew from experience that her spasming pelvic muscles
would wring every last sperm out of his penis.

For some reason, it wasn’t until this moment that I allowed myself to consider
the possible consequences of what was transpiring. As I passively observed the
consumation of Karen’s illicit tryst, I finally came to the realization that her
possibly fertile womb was completely unprotected. As she’d warned me earlier
that evening, she’d left her diaphragm in our hotel room. When they first
started to fuck, she hadn’t asked Jackson to use a condom and he hadn’t
offerred. She might have at least asked him to withdraw when he started to
ejaculate as I had always did during our engagement and sometimes even after we
were married. However, given the copious quantities of precum that had been
seeping from his penis, it probably would have been nothing more than a futile
gesture.

My suspicions that Jackson was an exceptionally virile stud were confirmed by
the fact that he never lost his erection. After only a few minutes of rest, he
resumed fucking my wife.