A Bedroom Conversation

5 min read

photo: Dreamstime

This is how it begins . . .

Late one night, a couple lies in bed. The husband is reading a newspaper, the Washington Post; the wife is reading a dime store novel she purchased at a gift shop earlier that day. Something about the book appears to amuse her as she keeps chuckling to herself. Her husband looks at her and smiles with amusement at how she’s got a hand over her mouth, fighting her laughter.

“What is it, honey?” he asks.

She shakes her head, her cheeks all red. “You won’t . . . you won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She turns toward him and presents him with the page she is reading. “Go ahead and read that paragraph all the way to the end of the page,” she indicates.

He folds his newspaper away then takes the book from her and does as she asks. She sees his lips move as he reads each sentence. Awareness lights up in his eyes as he grasps what she intends him to see. He finishes the page then admires the book’s arresting cover.

The Devil in Ms. Smith,” he reads the title.

“It’s hardcore erotic,” she says. “Interracial sex.”

“That was some paragraph, dear. What’s the book about?”

“It’s sort of erotic mixed with gothic sci-fi. From what I’ve read, it’s about a husband who takes his wife to a weird experimental clinic where they put in a microchip implant that allows him to make her do whatever he wants. Sounds like horror, I know, but in this case he makes her screw other men while he watches.”

“Hmm. Like a futuristic cuckold.”

“Something like that. You remember we once talked about this.”

“How can I forget?” He gives her back her book. “I remember you hated the idea. What got you reading about it now?”

“I don’t know,” she replies diffidently. “I’ve been thinking about it lately. Sort of getting second thoughts.”

Neither say anything. Her husband considers returning to his newspaper but then she turns to him again.

“I still remember the first time you brought up that subject. It sounded weird and crazy — that you seriously wanted me to go out and fuck other men.”

“No. What I said was I’d like if you’d consider other sexual options.”

“Bullshit. You wanted me to fuck other men. Tell the truth.”

Reluctantly, he nods his head. “But not just any other men,” he emphasizes.

“Black men.”

“Yes. We haven’t talked about this in more than a year.”

“You astounded me when you first told me that. I mean, I couldn’t comprehend that women — married women– out there actually did that for real. When you described it to me, I thought you meant porn. That’s why I thought you were full of shit.”

“You said it yourself, you thought I was looking for a chance to cheat on you instead.”

“Can you blame me, darling? The whole thing sounded preposterous.”

“I know. If there had been any better way for me to raise the subject with you, trust me, I would have. I just didn’t know how. So what’s gotten you thinking about it now?”

He looks at the book and feels a strong sense of certainty regarding his wife eventually changing her heart and mind toward seeing things his way. He thinks back to the time he first presented her with this idea: of wanting her to make a cuckold of him. She had thought it a hilarious joke at first, then grew irritated by his dogged persistence until eventually she angrily threatened him with divorce if he dared bring up the subject again. He hadn’t. He loved her so much he wouldn’t dream of losing her because of this.

But now she’s the one dredging up the topic. He is split in his mind whether to be ecstatic or fearful that her sudden change will turn out to be nothing but a passing fancy.

She sits up on the bed, crosses her feet and looks at him earnestly.

“Do you remember my friend Claire? I haven’t seen her in a while. Well, I ran into her two days ago at Costco — the one in Raleigh. She wasn’t alone; there was a young black man with her. I thought nothing of it, but then he wanted to go look at something, and I shit you not, she gave him her credit card and kissed him before he went off. I must have looked at her like she had gone crazy. Then she told me who the man was and I thought there and then that I seriously had lost my mind.”

“Who was he?”

“Her lover,” she whispers the words ominously, then breaks into a chuckle. “She told me his name is Abel, and he is her live-in lover.”


“Exactly. That was the same thing I said. Obviously a friend of Claire’s had told her about this cuckold thing and somehow Claire had convinced her husband about it. Jim is aware about her lover and consents to it.”

“Really?” he tries his best to hide the excitement percolating in his heart. “What else did she say?”

“That she and Abel have been together going a month now. Sometimes she stops by his place after work and even spends the night with him if he wants.” She stops and blushes. “She mentioned that he gave her the best sex she’s ever had, starting the first time they fucked.”

“No way.”

“I swear, it’s what she said. The first time she invited him home, he fucked her in their living room. Jim was out at the time but Abel never bothered stopping even when he returned. Claire says he’s got a huge cock and that she almost passed out when he made her cum twice.”

“My God!”

She laughs. “I know, right? She said finding Abel is the best thing she’s ever done. She even dared to ask if I’d want to spend some time with him. She said she wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, what did you say to her?”

For a moment she looks at her husband outraged, as if assuming he has lost his mind. But there is mutual understanding between them, and he knows that she has already wrestled with the question since leaving Claire and her date. It gets her blushing once more.

“I couldn’t . . . I told her no way, even though a part of me seriously wanted to say yes.”

As she talks, her hands brush against her husband’s crotch. She slides into his PJs to grasp at his erection. He extracts his cock for her and she gets on her knees and proceeds to stroke his shaft. He is already oozing pre-cum. She rolls her tongue over her lips, then lowers her face on his cock.

“To tell the truth, I’d love to see Abel’s cock,” she purrs as she continues jerking off her husband. “At least to see if Claire was right about how big he is. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I wanted to hold it in my hand . . .”

“You want to play with his cock,” her husband suggests.

“You’re so right, darling. I want to see how massive he is. To know if black men are really what most people say they are. That’s why when I saw this book, I just had to buy it.”

She locks her mouth around the tip of his member, then digs into sucking him hard. Her husband moans breathlessly. Lost and conquered by his wife’s succulent lips.

“Will you let me cuck you, darling?” she stops to ask while stroking his shaft into her mouth and fondling his balls. “Is it too late for us to do that?”

“No, honey,” he gasps. “I don’t think . . . It’s never too late.”

She kisses the tip of his penis. “Will you help me to find a lover to fuck me? I promise to have you around to watch.”

“Yes,” he mutters. “Sure . . . of course.”

“I want a black lover, darling,” she moans while stroking his cock. “Just like Claire’s. Preferably one with a huge cock,” she adds sultrily.

“I agree. Uuhhh. A black lover for my sweet wife.”

“Someone to fuck me like a whore. I know you’d love that. Wouldn’t you, babe?”

“Aww God, yes . . . so much, yes!”

“Will you eat my pussy when he finishes?”

“I’ll do anything, honey,” he moans as he feels his trigger itching to be pulled. In his mind, he pleads for his wife to grant him release. “I’d love to do that for you.”

She smiles and resumes sucking his cock. Seconds later he spurts semen into her mouth and falls back on the bed whimpering as his wife swallows his load.

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