Story 7
Summary:
Claire, a married woman in her late twenties. She’s home alone, sunbathing in the garden, when there’s a knock at the door.
Dave, a black man in his early thirties. He’s knocked on the wrong door but when he sees Claire in her bikini he sees an opportunity. Soon they’re having some fun in the pool and then they move it to the garden and then to the kitchen...
Cuckold, interracial, oral, jerk off, fingering, titty sucking, pussy licking, blow jobs.
Just as she felt the hand pushing up beneath her bikini top, finding her breast and squeezing it, Claire bit her bottom lip. It seemed as though it was the only way to keep her moans of pleasure inside.
Dave was kissing her throat, his face buried down there as she ran one of her hands back and forth over the back of his head, over the soft fuzz of his short hair. She opened her eyes and glanced down at him, seeing the black skin beneath his short hair, looking down at the rest of his black body that she could see from that angle.
In truth, she couldn't see that much of him as he was so close to her, and her face was tilted slightly upward to allow his face to get where he wanted it. She could see flashes of his black skin and saw how it contrasted with her light skin, slightly tanned from her sunbathing.
She loved the contrast between the two of them, the hard muscles of his body against her soft and supple little body. He seemed so big, so powerful, and somehow it managed to make her feel weak and vulnerable, even. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling at all, though.
As she ran one of her hands down over his back, now completely bare, and reached his ass - still covered although she could still get a good feel of it - she knew that she was going to let him do whatever he wanted to her. She was his, his toy to do anything with.
She looked around the garden. For a moment she wondered what it would be like if they were caught here, doing this. It felt so taboo, so forbidden. She knew that if she was caught then it would bring everything crashing down around her. She told herself that the chances of being caught were pretty much impossible. Her husband Mike was out of town. He had called her only that morning from the conference that he was at. It was in another city, another state. There was no way at all that he would be back. And the tall hedges meant that even if any of the neighbors were in they wouldn't be able to see anything - and she knew that none of them would be in. All the same, the idea of being caught somehow added to the excitement, the sense of danger - and the delicious sense that what they were doing was very, very wrong.
Did Dave know how wrong it was? The way that his hands moved so confidently over her body suggested that if he did know that it was wrong then he didn't care. He touched her as though he knew that she was his and his alone.
Her thoughts of her husband seemed so far away - just as he was. There was this constant consideration of him - of being caught and of the fact that what they were doing was wrong - that should have filled her with guilt but only seemed to heighten her pleasure.
She looked down at the swimming pool. Would she ever be able to look at that pool in the same way again? Would she ever be able to look at this garden in the same way again for that matter? After what she had done here this day would her husband be able to sense her guilt if they came out there together? Would he be able to sense what they had done there? Would there be some residual feeling of their passion, some carnal remnant that he would pick up on?
She didn't care. She just wanted Dave. Nothing else mattered to her at that moment.
It wasn't that she didn't love her husband or that there were any problems in their marriage. Or, at least, she hadn't thought that there were any real problems in their marriage. There had been some slight doubts, some feelings of restlessness, but she hadn't thought that they were of any consequence.
Their relationship had started on such a high level of passion that it had been hard to maintain but they had certainly done their best.
He had spotted her first. He had seen her walking towards him and he had honed in on her immediately. Perhaps it was her blonde hair - bright and brilliant and kissed by the sun - or perhaps it was her beautiful face - big, blue eyes, flawless light skin with sweet little lips that begged to be kissed, and a tiny, delicate nose.
Maybe he'd seen her body - the seductive sway of her hips as she walked, the bounce of her perfect breasts, or her slim figure and her toned legs - as she came closer. Whatever the reason, as soon as he had looked at her and taken in her appearance he had known that he had to ask her out.
She was flattered by it straight away. He was tall with a slim and toned physique, short, light-brown hair, green eyes, and chiseled movie-star good looks.
He had invited her round to his place for dinner and she had eagerly agreed.
To this day she couldn’t remember what they had for dinner that night. The whole evening seemed to pass quickly till the two of them were sat on the couch together, candlelight adding to the mood in the room, and then he had moved in closer to kiss him. She wasn’t used to men being quite this forward. She was in her early twenties at that point - she was in her late twenties now - and had only been used to clumsy fumblings of young men who seemed overwhelmed sometimes.
But when Mike had kissed her she had felt as though everything was falling into place.
He had pushed her back on the couch and she had laid back, ready for him, giving herself to him completely.
He had held her as they kissed and she had put her arms around him, wanting to pull him as close as possible.
She felt one of his hands on her waist, moving up to one of her breasts and then sliding down further, pushing up beneath her dress, holding her shapely thigh.
When she had gone round there that evening she had asked herself if she would sleep with him if it was what he wanted and she hadn’t been sure. But when they had sat on the couch she had known beyond a doubt that she absolutely would do just that.
When he pulled her dress down, exposing her breasts, she felt a flush of joy at the look on his face, the look of near exaltation.
When he had kissed her there she had trembled. Then his hand beneath her dress had been playing with her and it had been wonderful.
He had stripped her completely as she lay there on the couch. She lay there naked as he stood over her, slowly undressing himself. She had laid there, supplicant to him. She looked at his body as it was revealed to her. She felt a hunger stirring in her at the sight of him, at his lean and toned body. She let out a slight gasp at the sight of his hard cock as she realized just how much she wanted it.
He climbed onto the couch then and both of their naked bodies had been together then. He had begun to play with her using his fingers and his mouth on her expertly. She had wanted to do the same for him and she had pushed him over onto his back so that she could slide down onto the floor and suck on his cock.
He had pulled her back onto the couch to fuck her. They had tried several different positions - she bent over the arm of the couch, on all fours, on her back - and each one had felt incredible.
They had made it to the bedroom eventually when they had quenched that initial passion and there they had taken their time exploring one another, reaching whole new levels of pleasure.
Now that they were in their late twenties their marriage still seemed perfect - both from the outside and the inside. But there was still a nagging feeling that Claire couldn’t quite explain. Sometimes at night she would lie in bed and wonder what the problem was, a strange feeling of restlessness that she couldn’t quite explain.
At other times she would be out walking around town and she would spot a guy - just some random guy - and she would find her mind wandering. She would find herself thinking about that guy and fantasizing about him, about what it would be like if she was to make a move on him, what his reaction would be. She would imagine getting fucked by these random men, how good it would feel to have something so new to experience.
She knew that it was just her imagination, idle fantasies that would never lead anywhere, but at the same time the frequency with which she felt them made her wonder sometimes if it wasn’t a sign of something else, some other desire that she couldn’t quite explain.
When Mike had told her that he had to be out of town for a conference she had known that she would miss him although there didn’t seem to be any of that passionate feeling that she might have felt years ago where she would have felt an ache just at the knowledge that he was going to be gone.
After he had left there had certainly been a sense that something was missing and the house did seem emptier. She told herself that it was only natural to feel like that. She found herself walking around the empty rooms of the house feeling as though she had nothing to do. A couple of times she idly wondered what it would be like to bring one of those random guys back here to show him a good time but, once again, she knew that this was only an idle fantasy that wouldn't go anywhere.
Struggling to find something to do she decided that the best thing was to do nothing. It was a beautiful, sunny day and it was already getting hot. She decided that on a day like this, there was nothing to do except head out and sunbathe in the garden. If she got too hot there was always the pool as well. It seemed like the perfect way to spend the day.
She put on a tiny red bikini. Her breasts were straining to be freed from the top. Of course, with the garden all to herself and no neighbors looking over she would be able to let them free soon enough to ensure that she got the best possible all-over tan.