The Sweet Wife (2 page)

It was several moments before she answered. Finally, without raising her head she said softly, “Yes, I’ll lick your balls. I’ll hold them in my mouth. I’ll do what you say.” Speaking the words made her feel the tingling in her stomach again and the downward rush of heat.

“Yeah,” he touched her cheek, “you got a sweet mouth. You got yourself all made up and decked out and smellin good. You done that for me?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That’s how it ought to be. Married white woman spending the house money, spending the kids Disneyland money on clothes and shoes and perfume; makin herself pretty for the black man. Makin herself hot looking for her black lover. That’s what you done, ain’t it? That’s what you done for me?”

She felt her cheeks burning with shame, “Yes, that’s what I did. I…I…wanted to look pretty for you.”

“And you spent money you don’t have, money you could have used for the kids so that you could come walkin through that door over there looking hot for your black lover. Ain’t I right?”

She thought about the money they’d spent. She remembered Sara needed new sneakers and Billy had outgrown most of his clothes. She felt the tears well up. “We…we did that. We spent money we need for other things so I…so I would look…look good…look pretty for you.”

“And your fuckin wimp husband, he don’t say nothing?”

She glanced at Brian, “It was really his…” she didn’t finish.

“And now the pretty white woman is on her knees in front of her black lover cause that’s where she ought to be, down on her knees. Ain’t I right?”

She looked up at him, then lowered her eyes, “Yes,” she said, “on her knees.”

“You gonna beg me to fuck you. To fuck your cunt? You want it, don’t you? You’re startin to think about it, think about my thick black cock fillin you up, stretching your white cunt?”

She nodded even though she told herself not to. “Yes, that’s what I want.” She paused, then raised her head to look into his impassive face.

“And your ass?”

Her eyes widened. She looked away. “I…I didn’t agree…I mean I’ve never done that…I don’t…”

He reached down and pulled her up and against him. She felt her stiff nipples press hard against his work shirt. His arms were huge and powerful. He smelled of perspiration. Holding her wrists, he placed her hands behind his thick neck. She felt her breathing coming faster and a sudden rush of heat spread from her cheeks to her crotch. She felt helpless and vulnerable, but also aroused in a way she’d never experienced before.

His dark face loomed above hers. “Tongue kiss,” he said. She parted her lips and pressed them against his open mouth. She darted her tongue into his mouth tasting him. His broad, thick tongue entered her mouth and she sucked it. His full lips were wet with saliva. She licked them and again pressed her parted lips against his and slid her tongue into his hot, mouth, all the while moaning. She forgot about her husband, her children. There was only this…this huge black man and the liquid fusing of their mouths, and the anticipation of him pushing his monstrous cock into her…into each of her openings. And finally, there was the terrifying thought that she was spiraling down to a place from which she would not return.

She drew back for a moment to look at him, her eyes wide with fear and wonder. She touched his face. “Tonight, it’s possible I might do the things you want. I think you know that.” She leaned forward to kiss him again, but he pushed her back, “You gonna be my woman ain’t you?”

“Yes, tonight I’ll be your woman.”

“Good.” She leaned toward him once more but he held her back. “How about we go to your bedroom and you start by licking my asshole?”

She stiffed and looked away. “No, my God, I...I... couldn’t.” She stepped back, “You must be crazy to imagine that I’d do that.”

He pulled her toward him and looked into her eyes, “You do it good…you lick my asshole good, little white bitch, then I’ll fuck your cunt and cum inside you. You want that, want this black man’s seed fillin up your cunt?”

“Yes….yes I want you to cum in me. But to…to…lick you there…I can’t…I just can’t.”

He placed a finger on her lower lip. She clamped her lips tight. He rubbed his finger along her lip. She closed her eyes and tried to make herself pull back. Instead, she parted her lips slightly. He slid his finger into her mouth. “That’s right,” he said, “you learnin quick. After I cum you gonna suck me up again so I can fuck your virgin ass. You gonna ask me to fuck your ass?” He withdrew his finger.

She kissed him softly and whispered into his mouth, “I don’t know…I don’t know.”

“The bedroom upstairs? I’ll show you what I brung in your bedroom.”

There had never been any talk of taking him to their bedroom, of lying with him in their bed. Whatever was going to take place was supposed to happen here, in the den. To desecrate their bed with this kind of disgusting perversion was unthinkable “Yes,” she said, “it’s upstairs.

When he stood, she stepped back staring in awe. He was even taller and heavier than she’d estimated. The top of her head reached only to the middle of his distended belly. His neck was thicker than her waist. The idea of this huge black monster taking her in the way that he intended...in the way that she’d agreed to, terrified her. Why? Why had she allowed Brian to talk her into this?

As she passed her husband, she looked hard at him, her eyes tearing once more, hoping he would somehow stop them. Brian turned away and waited to follow behind the black man. At the bedroom door the two men paused. The black man turned to face Brian. “My name is Travis Henry, but you and your wife call me Mr. Henry. You got that, wimp?”

Brian nodded, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now you can stand here in the doorway till I tell you to shut the door.”

The bedroom was large and softly lighted. She had left the two bedside table lamps lit. On one of the tables was a photograph of her younger sister. On the other was a photograph of the children. She quickly turned it face down. An open door to the left of the bed led to a bathroom. In addition to the queen-sized bed, there were the usual chests, a walk-in closet, an overstuffed chair, her make-up table and bench. Over the table and facing the bed was a large mirror.

Travis strode over to the chair and sat. It groaned under his weight. He signaled to Brian, “Yo, go fetch me another beer.” Brian nodded and they heard him descend the stairs. Travis crooked a finger at Maureen, “Now, bitch, get that hot ass of yours over here so I can feel you up.” She had regained some of her composure, not quite believing how she had let herself go. Reluctantly, she crossed to stand before him. He spread his legs, “Closer,” he said. She stepped forward. His hands were as big as baseball gloves, the palms calloused, the fingernails long and dirty.

“You’re a tiny thing, ain’t you? But that’s all right. I like a tiny woman. Differences, you know, black and white, big and little. Still, I ain’t never had a woman as small as you.” He placed both hands behind her knees and slowly moved them up the back of her legs until they cupped her ass cheeks. She gasped and looked away. “Jus like I thought,” he said. “You got a tight little ass.” He kneaded her bare flesh. “Yeah, I like that. I like a tight white ass. I like to watch my big black prick disappear up a tight white ass.”

She closed her eyes. How dare he, she thought. How dare he say such things to me. How dare he touch me as if he owned me. Her legs began to tremble as he moved his fingers along the cleft of her ass. “You want that don’t you? You want what I’m doin?”

Shaking her head, she felt a hot flush come to her face, “Please, no, I…I…don’t.” He drew his fingernail lightly over her anal opening. She drew in her breath. “Yes,” she whispered almost inaudibly, “yes.”

Travis looked over at Brian who had returned and was standing in the doorway with the beer. “How you like this? How you like watchin the black man playin with your wife’s virgin ass? This is what you paid to see, right?”

Brian turned red and stuttered. “Ah, I…I…”

Travis interrupted, “I got a feelin your little wife is getting hot. Maybe she even wet already.” He looked up at Maureen, “You hot? You wet?” She didn’t respond. “You want me to check it out?” Instead of answering, she moved her foot over, parting her legs. He placed one hand on the inside of her thigh. “Say it,” he demanded.

“Yes, touch me…touch me there.” Her voice was a raspy whisper.

He slid his hand up to her crotch. She moaned almost audibly as he moved his finger slowly along the slickness of her slit. Taking his hand away, he gestured to Brian, “Hey boy, bring that beer and take a look at how your wife is creaming for me.” As Brian gave him the beer, Travis held a glistening finger up before him. Travis grinned, “Look at that! I ain’t hardly felt her up yet and she’s got herself all wet and ready for my big black prick. What you think, boy? You think your wife wants to get fucked?”

Brian swallowed and began to mutter, “I…I….think so…maybe.”

Travis waved him back to the door. He held his finger before Maureen’s face, “And what does the little wife say?”

She was trembling. With his other hand Travis continued to fondle her ass and touch her anal opening. “I’m…I’m….ready,” she said.

He placed his wet finger on her lip. “Taste your cunt,” he said. She hesitated, then parted her lips and sucked his finger. She could feel the grit under his fingernail. He stared at her, his eyes hard and mean. “After I fuck you you’re gonna taste your cunt again. You’re gonna lick your cunt juice off my dick.” He withdrew his finger from her mouth. “Ain’t that right, baby?”

She looked away, then back at him. “I…I…don’t know. Maybe...I don’t know.”

He tilted the bottle up and drank, then placed it on the floor. Pulling her toward him and seating her on his lap, he said, “Kiss me…tongue kiss me like you mean it.”

Against her ass and legs she felt the hardness and heat of his cock. His huge arm circled her waist. She glanced down startled at the blackness of his hand against her white blouse as he cupped her breast. His finger was still wet where she had sucked it. A few moments ago that finger with its long dirty nail had been inside her pussy and then inside her mouth. The thought repulsed and excited her. She tilted her head and parted her lips. He drew back. His black face loomed over hers, his lips glistening with spittle. She saw that his eyes were still hard, almost mean. She lifted toward him. Again he pulled away from her.

The thought flashed into her mind that she desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers, wanted to slip her tongue inside his mouth, wanted to taste the beer he had just finished, wanted to drink from the black well of this stranger’s mouth. “Please,” she whispered, “please let me kiss you.” My God, she thought, I’m begging this grossly fat black stranger to let me kiss him!

“Suck it,” he demanded. He extended his long, broad tongue. She parted her lips and took it into her mouth. She had never done this before, sucked a tongue in this obscene way. Whenever her lips got close to his, he’d push her head back. She longed for the moment when he would press his thick, wet lips against hers.

Holding her head between both of his hands, he let their lips touch for just a moment. She groaned and strained toward him. His tongue circled his lips wetting them again. He held her head just beneath his own. “You want my spit?” She didn’t know what he meant. Again he said, “My spit, you want it?” She nodded. “Open,” he said. She parted her lips and watched as a large gob of saliva formed and hung for a second from a thin strand before it dropped into her mouth. It was hot and tasted slightly of beer. She swallowed. He brought his face closer to hers. She saw in his eyes that he despised her. “You like the black man’s spit?’ She nodded and opened her mouth. “Not now,” he said, “you gonna learn to beg for it. Tell me.” She found it difficult to speak. She shook her head.

His eyes flashed angrily, “Say it…say Mr. Henry’s white bitch will beg for his spit.”

Squeezing her eyes shut she thought, ‘I can’t, I can’t say it.’ She opened her eyes and looked into his, “Mr. Henry’s white bitch will beg for his spit,” she said. “Please,” she opened her mouth again. He spit into it and she swallowed.

“Got to thank your man,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Henry.”

“For what?”

“Thank you for letting me have your spit.”

Leaning close to her he said, “That’s better.” Very lightly he let his lips brush hers, then he drew back. Again and again he touched her lips with his, light, flickering touches. She moaned and lifted toward him. His heavy lips became distended, engorged.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, “please, please let me kiss you.” Her mouth was open wide, her tongue moving back and forth, her breath coming in gasps. Suddenly he pressed his open mouth over hers. His swollen lips were hot. He rubbed them against hers. She had never been kissed like this. Never had there been this kind of hunger, this kind of liquid fusion. She darted her tongue in and out of his mouth. She licked the spittle from his pendulous lips. She opened her mouth wider inviting his tongue into it. All the time she continued to moan from deep inside her. No sexual experience in her life and ever come close to the passion she felt in kissing this stranger, this huge demanding black man.

He covered her mouth with his own, pressing hard, bruising her swollen lips. She felt his tongue inside her mouth, filling it, pushing toward the back of her throat. His hands clasped her face tightly. Her tongue slid under his. She moved it from side to side. Their saliva mixed and some seeped from the corner of her mouth. She was aware only of his hot breath, his wet lips, his thick tongue, and of the low groaning sound that was coming from deep inside her.

Suddenly, he let go of her face and pushed her violently from his lap. She fell, sprawling on the floor, her senses reeling. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “You sure one hot bitch,” he said. “Get your ass over there and fix yourself up.” He pointed to the make-up table.