Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was well past midnight and realized I’d better head for home fairly soon…not looking forward to that drive down the Dauphin Island Parkway to our home, but we had pets to feed and they’d be ravenous by the time I got there. Yet I found myself held in place by the entrancing spectacle of my fair-skinned Southern belle enthusiastically riding those many inches of stiff, black manhood, her frequent yips, gasps and groans an ongoing audible testament to the pleasures it was providing her.
Reluctantly yielding my front row seat to this sexy spectacle after several more minutes of watching, I stepped to the bed and when Blondie noticed me, tapped my watch, raising my eyebrows in question. She threw me a quick look of irritation but then must have realized that I needed to be leaving soon, asking him,
“Beau, honey, you think it’s gonna take a while to get you off? Rick wanted to see me make you come but he needs to be gettin’ on home, so…”
He muttered, “Too soon, baby, need more time…” causing her to look back at me with obviously insincere sympathy and mocking pleasure as she chortled,
“Sorry, cher, but you heard the man—maybe if you make it back early enough in the mornin’ we can finish the show for you then.” When I answered that with just a “Yeah sure” look, she grinned, again totally insincere and unsympathetic, and mockingly consoled me,
“Quit worryin’ about it, cher, you’re gonna get plenty of opportunities to watch him come in me before he heads back up to Chicago, d’accord?”
As she leaned forward and looked down at Beau for corroboration, he reached up with both big hands and captured her swaying breasts, grinning his agreement, “You bet, beautiful.” She crooked her left index finger, summoning me. When I bent over the bed, she clasped his hands to her breasts and gave me a long wet kiss as she kept grinding her impaled pussy against his groin.
She muttered against my mouth, “Don’t worry, sugar bear, you’re leavin’ your wife in very good hands.” Then after giving me another taste of teasing tongue, she whispered “Bonne nuit bébé, je t’aime (Good night baby, I love you)—drive carefully, tu m’entends (you hear me)?”
At the door, I looked back just in time to see Beau flip them over, staying inside her, thrusting into her forcefully, evoking from her an explosive “Yeasss!” and a gasped, “Oh yeah, fuck me, baby! C’mon! Give it to me good, lover—give it to me good ‘n hard!”
In the twenty-minute drive south I couldn’t get that image or those words out of my mind. Was it just more of her taunting? Sticking the needle in as I walked out the door? If so, it was certainly effective, further stimulating the cuckold thrill of leaving my eagerly willing mate in the bed of another man for the night…and…if I were to be candid about it…a thrill that was magnified by the fact of that man being my corporate superior.
Could she also have been giving me a glimpse into how she might be even more responsive to her lovers out of my presence? Or was it both perhaps—her offering me a tantalizing preview of how wanton she intended to be spending the night for the first time with a black lover without my distracting presence? I could only wonder as I pulled into our long, circular driveway without my wife, certain I would learn more when I returned to the hotel in the morning.