by Derrin Hart
It looked like we’d be okay. Still, once I was feeling good again, I got lost in the subject that would destroy us. I wanted Janet to be with a black man. My soon-to-be wife was thinking wedding, a child and a new job. Again we had to split. This time she would not return. She had always come back, but this time Janet had met someone at her new job. He had been her friend in a time of need. He was nothing special but he cared. Together they would talk, him telling her how he would cherish her beyond reason. He would tell her I was a fool.
I still thought she’d be back. I wanted to marry her and I did want a child someday. We’d been together for many years and we’d met right out of school. We were always together. A week later a big argument ensued on the phone: “I suppose we could get together and talk,” she said. I was like, “how could you be with another guy?” She was mad. “It didn’t seem to bother you when we met those older guys before.” I argued that this was different, but she could not see the difference. We didn’t have that meeting until much later in the month.
The time spent alone was new to me. Janet and I was all I had ever had. I missed her and had a hard time imagining life without her. I was hurt, but I also felt guilty. She’d be back.
She did not come back. I was on my own and we corresponded very little for weeks. One day, while I was shopping and at the checkout line, I ran into a student from quite a ways back.
She was gorgeous. I knew that bushy blonde hairstyle from far away. Her name was Sara and I was in awe. She came up to me and gave me a hug. It had been so long, and she was no longer a teenager. We chatted, and I suggested we should get together for a movie or something. She smiled and said, “Just give me a call sometime.” Before I could say more, she had left the store.
She was all paid up, and I was still dealing with the cashier.
I heard nothing from Janet in the coming days. I thought about calling Sara, but it was mostly a fantasy. I did not have her number and she was a lot younger. Yet she did say that her boyfriend and she had recently split. I called Janet instead. She was a little easier to talk with, but we got nowhere with regard to meeting or getting back together. Then came a luck-of-the–draw, spur-of-the-moment happening: I ran across some old papers with student numbers from long ago and such. The papers were for a carwash we had done as a group years ago. They were listed on the back of something, since I hadn’t thought it important to save the numbers. There stood one number in particular, Sara’s.
This young woman was no doubt out of my league. She was slim, beautiful, young, and a college coed. Sara could be a playboy playmate in an instant. I fidgeted with the number for two days and only got the nerve to call on a Wednesday night. She was back home from school, and luckily her mother passed her the phone. “Hi, Sara. After running into you at the store, I decided to call. How about we hit a movie together this Friday night?” My heart was pounding out of my chest. Janet was on my mind. What the heck was I doing?
Sara calmly answered my call. “I’d love to.”
Chapter Three
Our first date was good. We saw a fun movie and ended up back at my apartment.
Sara was different than Janet. She was a modern woman—more independent. Janet was a good looking girl, if not cute. Sara was a doll. Her teeth were perfect and white as snow, her thick blonde mane ever flowing and splendid. She had high cheekbones and a face of an angel. We talked for hours and got along real well. I had a young-for-my-age outlook on life. Hers seemed to match.
I told her we should get together again. She agreed, and we shared a nice hug before I took her home. The following week, on Monday morning, we hooked up again. As we walked alongside a lovely pond, we talked about life, the future and whatnot. Sara and I had connected.
We were going to have another date. I just knew it.
That afternoon Janet finally called me. She wanted to meet. We made plans and met up beside a nearby lake. We sat on an up-rise of rocks and had our first serious talk since the split.
Janet was her old self. She mentioned that things have been crazy, and I agreed wholeheartedly.
We looked into each other’s eyes and all we had shared flashed before me. We had been inseparable for years. She was a great girl. Life—yes, life—had just thrown us a serious curveball.
“Maybe we should get back together,’ she said. “What about John?” I said. I then mentioned that I, too, had been seeing someone. She cried, as did I. We decided that we’d wait, see how things progressed. Janet and I never did get back together.
As mentioned earlier, as a young man my first experience with swinging and cuckold material came at the adult bookstore in a nearby town. I was getting magazines every so often there, the types that showed real sex with real couples. I really liked the images of well-endowed men with sexy ladies. One day I saw an image on the cover of a magazine that was called Cocoa and Cream and decided to give it a try. I bought the magazine.
I hadn’t realized that this magazine was a swingers book. I figured it was like most others, but in truth, it was the beginning of my desire for interracial cuckold fun. These ads said things I never imagined I would consider. Sexy wives were seeking black men for sex. Husbands were said to enjoy watching, and the ads claimed to be real. I enjoyed the ads and never really thought twice about their meaning until my twenties had passed me by. My thirties had arrived, and this book remained with me in my most private bedroom drawer.
How could I consider such forbidden action? I mean, why would I let a woman I loved, or liked for that matter, be intimate with another man again? Now, at the age of thirty-three, I had a chance meeting with a gal I had known earlier. Luckily for me, she was single. I asked her on a date. She was a stunning blonde, ripe at the age of twenty-two. I always had a thing for blondes.
This doll looked a lot like the typical Barbie doll I so admired. I saw her as a Pamela Anderson type, though a country girl with a gorgeous set of teeth, vibrant smile, and a welcoming attitude.
Sara was her name. She had a wonderful curvy body, and the type of hair you usually only found on Hollywood starlets.
Now that I was older, I wondered if we would hit it off and find a connection that could last.
Well, we did and have been married ever since. Never in my wildest dreams would I have conceived what we would do and go through in the years to come. This is our story, our “Dark Secret.”
Sara, my new wife, was not the stuck-up type. She was and is down to earth and very artsy.
We began dating and really got along well. She is needy in many ways. She likes to be told she is special and enjoys the admiration. I had no problem with obliging her. She seemed very sexual when we first touched, and her body was great. She stands five foot five and weighs about one hundred and twenty five pounds. Her breasts are a shapely 34c cup. She kept in good shape and at that time she was a young beautiful coed. I stole her from the college boys, and that was no easy feat.
Before we got married we talked about all her experiences in high school and college.
Surprisingly, she had had sex with many guys in college. At first I was shocked. In high school, she only had one boyfriend. She claimed that being alone and away from her family in college had made her seek out love and companionship. I think she spoke the truth, yet I also think the new freedom and partying had something to do with it. She obviously did enjoy it; ten guys is a lot of screwing for a one-boyfriend high school chick. Sex and penetration came easy to Sara.
Our story really begins in 1996. While still dating, we finally had sex and right away I was dumbfounded when I entered her. I could penetrate each of my past girlfriends decently but always with the help of lubrication. Sara was very wet, and I slid in without any friction at all. As we copulated she became even more open and soon I could not feel her walls; my penis was lost inside her. This small college girl had an opening and wetness that engulfed me, and I was bedazzled.
This was the first time I came to realize I had a rather small penis. Plus, she had a generous vagina
l opening. According to my reading in the Kama Sutra, we were not well matched.
According to the Kama Sutra, the ancient Indian Hindu sex text, a man and woman are divided into three sexual organ classes. Men can be classified as hare men, bull men and horsemen, according to the size of his cock. Women, too, can be classified as does, mares or female elephants, depending on the depth of their cunts. There are three equal unions that can exist between a man and a woman, depending on their sizes, and six unequal ones.
The equal matches are hare and doe, bull and mare, and horse and elephant. It was obvious my college girl and I were not equally matched. I was over six feet tall and outweighed her considerably, but our organs were way off.
In unequal unions, when the male exceeds the female in size, his union with a woman who is immediately next to him in size is called high union and is of two kinds; his union with the woman farthest from his size is called the highest union, and is of one kind only. On the other hand, when the female exceeds the male in size, her union with a man immediately next to her in size is called low union, and is of two kinds; her union with a man farthest from her in size is called the lowest union, and is of one kind only. In other words, the horse/mare and bull/deer form the high unions, while the horse/deer union is the highest. On the female side, the elephant/bull and mare/hare form low unions, while the elephant/hare union is lowest. There are, then, nine kinds of unions based on dimensions. Equal unions are the best; those of a superlative degree, i.e., the highest and the lowest, are the worst. The rest are middling, and with them the high are better than the low.
We managed the best we could with such a low union throughout our courtship year. But after awhile I came to realize that sex with Sara was difficult and unfulfilling for both of us. What could we do to change this? I could not help think of my past with Janet. But this relationship was nothing like my prior youthful one. Sara was a very independent young woman. A modern girl, educated and heading for a successful international career.
I finally decided to explore swinging with her. I raised the possibility of another man—a stud—joining us. At first she was stunned, saying she would be frightened and uneasy. I had an old buddy coming to town one weekend and mentioned he could be a good choice to start with. I also began looking for swinger parties in our rural neck of the woods, seeing if maybe something local would also be an option. We planned the old buddy encounter and I even bought a new video recorder. Sara was so nervous, yet she felt a twinge of excitement. So we decided to go ahead with our plans. Sara had not been raised to be a swinger, much less have encounters with other people while in a relationship. She was extremely apprehensive.
I laid her lingerie out on the bed before our friend was to arrive. We had decided she would do a little modeling show for him and I, and we picked out five special outfits. She looked so amazing. She had painted her finger- and toenails red and was brushing her gorgeous long blonde hair as I stepped out to pick our man up at the airport. He was a white guy, although my mind’s eye kept seeing our fantasy man as colored. The thing was, there really were no black men to speak of in our state.
I had not seen John in a while and when we met, I was a little disappointed. He had aged not as well as I had hoped. He was slightly balding and his body was average. This guy used to be well built and good-looking. But time changes all, so off we went back to our apartment to meet Sara. Introductions were made, and she prepared to come out in her outfits for us. Wow, was I fully turned on by the thought of this guy seeing my girl partially nude and looking so fabulous! I think he was, too. My cock stiffened in my pants, and my balls tightened. He mentioned how gorgeous she was and that I was a very lucky man.
Well, she came out and danced and paraded about for us. It was a moment to remember.
Gorgeous and so lovely are two words that come to mind. She was nervous but did okay and changed into all five outfits like a good girl. She modeled long sheer negligee gowns, naughty two-piece biker bras and panties, even soft delicate pink baby doll camisoles. All these changes were amazing. With each one she seemed more relaxed. A massage followed, and John was more than happy to offer his hands. Sara was shaking. I had blindfolded her and told her to relax and lie on her stomach. She wore a tiny light blue cami and thong panty for the massage, and John wasted no time caressing every inch of her. In truth, she was way superior to him in looks. He would have had no chance with her other without this golden opportunity I gave him.
After a bit, he touched her in places inappropriate in a regular massage. She seemed to like it.
Eventually he removed her lingerie, and the two started in on some sexual play. He ate her and she opened up for more. I noticed his cock was not all that big and was disappointed. Yet it was hard and she was anxious to have it. She got on top to start and slipped him in with one thrust. She rode him hard and moaned and arched repeatedly. “Oh yes, this feels so good!” she cried out. Things were going well, and I heard her say, “Please turn me over and fuck me like a dog.” He positioned her on her knees and was all excited but regretfully came after just a few humps.
That was pretty much the end of our first encounter. She admitted afterward that he was not all that attractive to her and that she probably should have not gone further with sexual play.
However, horny was horny, and she had wanted to make me happy by going all the way.
After that we dropped the swinging idea for a few months. I would not call it a great first experience. Sara was raised catholic, and her guilt lingered for some time.
Chapter Four
Our relationship was great. Sara and I had a lot in common. We loved sports, dining, movies, the same type of music, and many other things. We had sex often enough to be happy, yet the matching was still off. After one session when I gave her my best shot—a long hard fucking that left me fully drained—she still desired more. Her words after I came would linger in my mind: “I want more. I want it harder, I like it deep. It makes me feel like a woman.” Here I was—a budding cuckold—with this wholesome and gorgeous blonde coed. What the hell was I going to do?
I had found a party in a nearby city, so we decided to give that a try later in the year. Sara was hesitant, but said, “Why not?” We planned our first party trip that spring. The night before the party, I watched as she chose her outfit. This was a highlight for me and a major turn-on. Many people would be looking at her the following evening, and her choices were fantastic. I loved seeing her change; her protruding pussy lips were so big I could see them each time she switched panties, and her eraser-tip nipples stood out as well. I imagined another male or female touching her and making her happy. The party was the next night and chances were that something would happen.
For the party she picked a black dress, high black boots, and black nylon stockings. The time had come for us to head out. We had no idea what to expect, and she was very nervous. We arrived safely and the house was big enough to be comfy for all attendees. It was a couple’s party, so the couples mingled. We were having fun and meeting a few nice couples. We had been given a tour of the private rooms upstairs when we arrived. Two couples were playing in one, and a guy with a large, semi-hard cock walked right by us. Man, would Sara go wild with that thing, I thought.
Later we met a couple who were both physical therapists—a classy, fun pair. This was a good thing for Sara, because she liked seeing professional couples enjoying freedom of sexual exploration. We did not hook up with anyone that night, but later, when the couple we had become friends with had several people fondle their female half, we got in on that. Having this professional, sexy, attractive wife enjoy hands all over her had turned my Sara on. I was glad we attended this party. Later at home Sara and I fucked, and she said that the party was fun, and she thought that maybe—just maybe—she’d like to attend more.
We would make love as much as possible in the months following the party. Sara was creative and wanted to try many positions. The thing was, we had a hard time in some. I could barely
have her ride me; her curvaceous round ass sank deeply on me and my tiny dick was lost.
We also tried side-spooning, but again her protruding bubble ass, a shapely round ball was in the way. I could not reach in enough. Life was good, though, and we got engaged. There was no way I was letting this girl get away. She graduated from college, and we were happy.
Halloween came, the party scene looked good. An out–of-state bash seemed best for us. We met a couple who wanted to attend such a costume party and made plans to make the trip together.
Halloween is always a great time to dress up and become someone else. Sara was excited about that and looking forward to the party. I had done a little research and learned that both couples and single men attended them. This might be our first opportunity to meet a black guy, I thought. That really had been my fantasy all along. With a built black man, we would both have the best possible time, her playing and me watching. Plans were made and the party fast approached. The couple we had met prior to that at a restaurant was really nice. But I really had no interest in a couple at this point. Our sex life needed a serious infusion, a hung stud who could turn my girl on and fuck her for long hours, deeply and passionately.
We tried so hard to have good sex, but it was tough. I was small, she was large, and penetration was unfulfilling. We did our best, but in time I came to avoid sex whenever possible. I would masturbate frequently while thinking of my beautiful wife with another man. I envisioned a guy who would bang her silly to get off, using magazine pics, porn or whatnot. Most nights I would take pics of Sara and then place pics of so-called well-built men next to them and jerk off while fantasizing the two together.
