@2

The two girls more or less panned the first video, Jenna leading the charge, this time making more direct critical remarks about her husband. At least the actresses could do a realistic job of faking an orgasm, which was more than she often could bring herself to do. Cathy took this all in, but commented little in return. Jenna had been snuggled close to Cathy during the video, claiming she just couldn't get warm, despite the hot shower she had taken. It was an innocent enough explanation, but served the purpose of getting Jenna close.

Then came the lesbian segment. Jenna offered to turn the TV off if this was offensive for Cathy, but Cathy declined, stating they might as well get their money's worth. The first sign Jenna noticed of Cathy's sexual excitement was an increase in her breathing rate and barely noticeable shifts in her body position. But when the first woman had her orgasm with the other between her legs, Cathy began shaking. Jenna was puzzled at first, then it dawned on her that Cathy was crying. She put her arm around her and asked what was the matter. Cathy's dam burst. She told Jenna how sad it was to see two women so happy when her sex life was mostly a big zero. When gently plied for more information, Cathy admitted that she hardly ever had an orgasm, somehow it just didn't happen for her. For years, she had just accepted it as her fate, but tonight it finally hurt too much.

Jenna's time had come. She had never thought it would be this easy to make an opening; she had not been sure how to begin. With the video still walking the actresses through their lesbian journey, Jenna began to fully embrace Cathy—albeit from the rear—then moved over so Cathy could lie on her back. Jenna now could fully hug her, placing her near leg over Cathy's as she did, first wiping away her tears with her fingers, then gently planting kisses on each eyelid, all the while uttering words of comfort to Cathy. For her part, Cathy returned the hug. Eventually, Jenna widened her kisses to my wife's ears, her cheeks, then her neck and throat. Cathy continued to hold on to her as though Jenna, the wife of a preacher, might be the key to her salvation.

Finally, Jenna's kisses went lower to kiss the tops of Cathy's breasts, breasts highlighted by nipples making small tents against her nightgown. Cathy did not resist. Jenna then raised her head level with Cathy's, looked her earnestly in the eye and asked her in a whispered voice if she could make love to her.

Cathy stiffened and averted her gaze. Jenna kissed her again on her eyelids, then raised one of her hands to cup Cathy's tit. Rather than repeating the question, she rephrased her question with just a single word: "Cathy?"

Cathy reached for the hand which was now gently massaging her tit to push it aside. "We can't do this," was her response. "We just can't." But her voice lacked conviction.

"Let me try this, Cathy. We can always stop. I just want you to be happy. I promise I will never say a word to anyone. This is just you and me. I know how you must feel. I never cum with Frank either.... Let me do this for you."

Jenna's hand had been rubbing Cathy's side from hip to near her breast as she spoke, now she cupped Cathy's tit again, beginning this time to knead the nipple. When Cathy made no protest, Jenna lowered one side of the nightgown exposing her right breast. She replaced her hand with her mouth, tonguing the area around the nipple before taking it into her mouth.

After a minute of making mouth-love to one tit while she fondled the other, Jenna planted kissed anew on Cathy's face before concentrating them on her mouth. Jenna eventually tried opening Cathy's mouth with a probing tongue. With apparent hesitation, Cathy parted her lips and was soon a willing participant on a French kissing frenzy. Meanwhile, Jenna had worked her hand to Cathy's mound, her hand on top on her panties. Cathy stiffened, yet sighed at the contact and kissed her sister-in-law with more passion. It was obvious to Jenna that her companion was wet. She raised her hand to slip it inside the barrier of her Cathy's underwear. When Cathy felt another woman's touch on her bare pussy, she whimpered into Jenna's now wildly kissing lips. After lightly running her fingers over Cathy's outer pussy lips, she began to work Cathy's panties off her hips.

"Jenna, please stop. This isn't right." But she raised her hips to make it easier for her panties to be pulled down. Jenna sat up to complete the removal. When Cathy had been exposed, Jenna simply admired her pussy, mostly hidden by her lush bush. Predictably, Cathy attempted to cover her crotch with her hands.

"Please don't do that, Cathy. You are so beautiful."

And that pretty much ended the conversation for the next ten minutes. Jenna kissed each of Cathy's inner knees, then began working her way to the promised land. Although Cathy still was covering her pussy with her hands, she allowed them to be gently pushed aside when Jenna's lips reached the point where upper leg met lower torso. Jenna tongued these spots, then maneuvered her tongue directly to Cathy's pussy hole, where she slowly stroked it in, then out of her cunt, savoring Cathy's generous secretions.

Cathy had ended all resistance. Rather, she had grasped Jenna's head, apparently in an attempt to make sure it stayed at the center of her pleasure.

Jenna later told me that from that moment, they were both lost to time. Personally, she was reveling in this chance to love another woman, with the dual opportunity and challenge of making another woman cum on her tongue. Cathy just kept whimpering, the groaning as she neared orgasm, alternating between grasping her tits and placing her hands on Jenna's head to keep her eating her pussy, who, by this time, had inserted two fingers in Cathy to add to her stimulation.

At the peak of her excitement, just before she reached orgasm, Cathy asked Jenna to use three fingers. Then Cathy went wild. My wife's exact words were "Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. Eat my pussy. Make me cum. Fuck my cunt with your fingers" (this said between clenched teeth), then finally "I'm cummingggggggg."

Cathy had never used such language when we were making love. I marveled when Jenna quoted her words, words which had brought joy and such a sense of accomplishment to my sister. But rather than resting at this point, Jenna toyed with Cathy's cunt, slowly finger fucking her, softly kissing her labia, allowing Cathy to come down from the intensity of her cum. Then, when she sensed Cathy was beginning to relax, brought her to a second, then a third orgasm, each somewhat less strong than the former.

She gave Cathy a final lick and kiss on her pussy, then crawled upwards where Cathy eagerly met Jenna's open-mouthed kiss. Cathy began weeping.

"Oh, Jesus, Jenna. That was the best I have ever had. Promise me you won't ever tell anyone. If my kids found out what I just did, I would simply die. But it was soooo good. I love you, Jenna. I didn't find out exactly how much until tonight." More kissing, as Cathy's hand now went to Jenna's pajama-clad pussy. "Can I try? I've never done this before and I'm not exactly sure what I need to do. But I want to make love to you. I want to lick your pussy like you licked mine."

Jenna kissed her, and said she would love to feel Cathy loving her. She suggested that they just rest for a few minutes, during which time Cathy ministered to Jenna's tits. Jenna was amazed how Cathy seemed to need to suck as much in her mouth as possible, all the while finger-fucking Jenna sopping pussy. Then Jenna shed the rest of her pajamas, used her top to wipe her and Cathy's pussies. Swiveling her body on the bed, Jenna suggested they do each other. Lying side by side, the next fifteen minutes were followed by everything one woman could do to another with tongue, lips, and fingers. Jenna came first while urging Cathy to "suck my pussy," then she brought off Cathy, again finger-fucking her with three fingers as she reached climax, at the urging of Cathy's cry "fuck my cunt."

Both women were spent. They fell asleep nude in each other's arms.

When Jenna awakened, Cathy was still asleep. She showered, then returned to wake up Cathy with a kiss on her tit. Cathy sat up, and headed for the shower. When she emerged, Jenna was dressed. Cathy, wrapped in a towel, was rummaging through her suitcase in search of her clothes. Jenna rose from the chair where she had been reading, turned Cathy to face her and slowly loosened the towel. Cathy began to cover herself with her hands, then, realizing the absurdity of her actions, began laughing.

"I hope I did okay last night. I mean with you. I hope it was good for you. I'm sorry I asked you to do those things and that I used that language."

"You mean when you asked me to fuck you with my fingers? Trust me, I enjoyed doing it. And you seemed to have had quite a cum. Hope you enjoyed it."

"Oh, it was sensational," Cathy replied. "You'll never know just how good it was. But I shouldn't have spoken the way I did. I feel bad about that. That wasn't really me."

As Cathy began to dress, Jenna wanted to know what language she felt bad about. Cathy took a seat on the rumpled bed and in a quiet voice said she regretted using the words "pussy" and "cunt." Those were not a normal part of her vocabulary.

"Listen, Cathy. If I am talking to a doctor, I might use the word vagina or vulva. If I am at a coffee party, I would use the word bottom. But when I am making love, the only words that fit are pussy and cunt—not that I can use them with Frank. I may have a uterus but when I am fucking, the whole of me is a cunt. It's the only word that fits. So that's where I'm coming from, pardon the pun. How about you?"

"I guess you're right. Last night, the only part of me that was alive was my (hesitation) cunt. Thank you for helping me discover that."

Jenna gave her a motherly kiss of approval, then suggested they get something to eat. They had a long day ahead of them, before a late check-out at 3 p.m. They did breakfast, grabbed a cab to the museum, and enjoyed the wing of the exposition they had reserved for that day. But after a snack at noon, Cathy shared the thoughts she had been having since they had passed through the turnstile.

"How about skipping the rest of this and heading back to the hotel? We still have three hours. To tell the truth, I've seen enough. And...I want to taste your pussy one more time."

Jenna smiled, took a last sip of her coffee, and said she had been thinking the same thing. In their hotel room, the two of them skipped the preliminaries and simply undressed. After exchanging kisses, Cathy began sucking Jenna's tits, then had her sit on the bed with her legs extending over the edge. She had a clear view of Jenna's pussy. Within seconds, Cathy was lapping like her life depended on it. Jenna just let it happen. Every few minutes, Cathy would pull her head back from Jenna's body, making a study of her now wet pussy, sometimes transfixed as she inserted her two fingers in her cunt, fucking in and out. Then it was back to licking her new-found lover. Mid-way to Jenna's building orgasm, they heard a rattle of keys, the door opened, and a cleaning lady walked in the room, pulling her cart behind her. Cathy looked up, her face covered with Jenna's juices, not knowing what to do. As the cleaner realized what she had interrupted, she froze, mumbled something, and almost tripped over her cart on the way out. For a moment, Cathy herself sat frozen. Her trance was broken by Jenna's laughter. "Boy, will she have a story to tell."

That broke the spell. Cathy too laughed, then finally returned to Jenna's pussy, only to be told that Jenna wanted to do her too. So they got in the same position they were in last night. Before beginning to ply her talents, Jenna asked Cathy if she would like her to eat her pussy and finger-fuck her cunt. Cathy said yes, only to be told by Jenna that she wanted to hear her say it.

Cathy paused, then repeated the words. "I want you to eat my pussy. I want you to finger-fuck my cunt. And I want you to do it while I fuck your cunt." Then she began to enjoy Jenna's riches again.

Following mutual orgasms and a quick wash, they hastily packed their clothing, checked out, and began the long journey home.

Jenna, of course, shared all details of their adventure with me. We never mentioned it to my mother or anyone else. Cathy seemed much more lighthearted following her adventures with my sister. The only difference I noted when we had sex was that Cathy much more receptive to my performing oral sex on her. She never relished sucking my cock and—as before—seldom did it.

But I was content. She was still a wonderful, somewhat doting mother to our kids; she was still my life's partner. And I sensed that even though she couldn't find sexual fulfillment with me, I was happy to have played some part in giving her a few brief moments of happiness, happiness which for her could apparently only be reached when having uninhibited sex with another woman.

Before I got a chance to spend time with my sister again, they had attended two other art shows, spending at least one night together each time far from town. I know their fun continued.

When next both Jenna and I spent a weekend at my mother's, the thought of any inhibition or hesitation on anyone's part evaporated. We accepted the fact that we were lovers and didn't give a flying fuck what rules the rest of the world chose to live by. Mom and Jenna met me at the door, each offering a glass of wine, each dressed in filmy nightgowns and robes. They had already made love, showered, and spent several hours lost in the enjoyment of each other's company.

I caught up on each of their lives while enjoying the wine and a light lunch, then announced I would be taking a shower to wash off the road dust. When I entered my mother's bedroom with only my towel for a wrap, the two of them were sprawled atop the bed, nightgowns carelessly, seductively pulled up to mid thigh. I got the message.

Dropping the towel, I too climbed on the bed and kissed each in turn. I wound up eating Jenna's pussy while my mother started sucking my cock. Both of her children came on schedule, Jenna hunching against my mouth, me in my mother's, even though she was never to swallow my cum. She would keep sucking my cock through my orgasm, but kept her lips somewhat loose so that my semen could escape. No doubt she did swallow some as she never would spit out what didn't ooze from her lips, but swallowing an entire load was something she seemed not to relish. In contrast, Jenna had no hesitation. From start to finish, she was more of a lip-locker, swallowing every bit of my pre-come as well as the jets of jism that her skills brought forth, usually continuing to slowly suck my cock until I was again flaccid.

That weekend, we spent hours working on various odd jobs which had been put off. But we also spent hours in the bedroom, making sure that all three of us got in our share of sucking, fucking, cumming. It is amazing how relaxing it can be when one keep's no secrets—except for the outside world.

The morning following my arrival, Mom again had several errands to run. It was then, when we were alone, that Jenna broke the bombshell about Cathy. Jenna was convinced that Cathy would be open to experimenting with a black guy. I was incredulous at the news, even though not totally surprised. Jenna reported that Cathy—far from being non-orgasmic—never failed to cum when the two of them were together. I had been right about my wife's draw that lesbian sex seemed to have on her and was thrilled that she was finally getting some sexual satisfaction. But Jenna had always been intrigued by the fact that Cathy called for three—and once all four—fingers being used on her during their lovemaking. Jenna also commented on her proclivity to watch interracial sex scenes, the bigger the black cock the more she seemed to get turned on. Conclusion: although my normal-sized cock provided stimulation enough for sister and mother, it just wasn't doing the trick for my wife. Cathy needed to be filled in order to reach orgasm. Solution: see if Cathy would be receptive to trying black, a topic Jenna was only willing to broach if it had my blessing. I was, of course, aware of the raptness with which my wife had viewed interracial sex scenes, even though she had always denied that the thought of having a roll in the hay with a well-endowed black man held any appeal for her. Now my sister was presenting me with a difficult choice. Did I really want Cathy to be fulfilled? To give my approval for her getting fucked by a black man?

On the surface, it wasn't a hard decision to make. If Cathy needed a huge cock to reach another level of happiness, that was fine with me, so long as discretion would be the watchword. The problem was how to approach the problem. It was my turn to express my incredulity at Jenna's suggestion.

"Okay. Assume it's okay with me. After all, I'm fucking you and mom, not exactly something they advocate in Sunday school. But how the hell do you propose to bring this one off? You can't exactly put an ad in the local newspaper. And what about future complications? Getting fucked by a guy once or twice is one thing. But I don't think a long-term relationship is something either she or I can handle. We might not be card-carrying Catholics or anything, but we did live in a small town. If anyone even dreamt that this sort of thing is going on, it wouldn't do much for her reputation. This isn't known as a liberally-minded area."

This time, it was Jenna who had done some advance planning. A young unmarried intern had been temporarily assigned to her office, an intern whose tenure would soon be coming to an end, following which he would return to his home base in Philadelphia, half way across the country. He was personable, good looking, well-spoken, suave, meticulously clean, and intelligent (and probably horny as hell)—and he was reported by the office guys who worked out with him to have a cock they could only dream of. The females at the office had, of course, gotten wind of his endowment. Jenna had several times been in attendance when he had joined the office staff for an after-work drink, sessions which inevitable deteriorated into bouts of sexual bantering and innuendo. The guys had never failed to get in a thinly-veiled remark about cock size, and how Gene (his name) took the trophy in that category. Even the older, respectably-married women seemed intrigued, even though they blushed each time.

Jenna had taken the liberty (read chance) to confront him in private, even though she realized she was taking a huge risk. Gene had been summoned to her office for a budget brainstorming session. As he entered the room, she quietly locked the door behind him. Taking her seat, she studied Gene for minute, then took a deep breath. Rather than beating around the bush, she took the direct approach. She asked him if he was interested in "getting a little white pussy"—her exact words. Not herself, she clarified, but someone she knew that was interested in experimenting. Gene hemmed and hawed, but finally admitted he was interested in what she had to say. She, for her part, asked him flat out about the size of his cock. He told her he was about seven and a half inches. Thick, she asked. Very, he answered.

"Okay, sounds like we might be able to work something out—if you are telling the truth. So show me the proof."

"You want me to pull out my cock right here in your office?" Gene couldn't believe they were even having this conversation, let alone what was being asked of him.

"Look," Jenna told him. "My friend doesn't just want a black cock. She wants a big black cock. If you want to be a player, you have to show me the proof now. If you aren't interested, you can just leave, and this conversation never took place." She pulled a picture of Cathy from her purse to give Gene evidence of what was being offered."Who is she?" Gene wanted to know. "Is she married? How do I know you're not just bull-shitting me?" He continued looking at Cathy's picture. "Did the other girls put you up to this."

"No one knows about this conversation except the two of us. The woman you are staring at is very real—a close friend of mine. You've never met her. Maybe you never will. Her name is Cathy, all you will ever find out about her. The door is locked. So what do you say?"

There was a long pause, during which Gene just sat in his chair across from Jenna's desk focusing first on the picture, then long and hard at Jenna. After being re-assured that the door was locked, he stood, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and balls—and asked, perhaps hopefully, if Jenna wanted to do the honors. Jenna assured him that she had no desire to wank his cock. It was his job to see if he passed the test. Gene shrugged, and within minutes, was holding a cock which was all it he said it would be—very long, very thick. Before he got too carried away, Jenna told him to tuck himself in. She would be in touch. Telling Gene to sit down and cover his crotch with several of her file folders, she informed him that she was going to invite her assistant into the office for a discussion of the "budget proposal" she and Gene had been discussing, her means of covering her ass. That should give Gene's cock a chance to return to normal before he had to leave.

So Jenna had done the preliminary leg-work. Whether or not she proceeded from there was up to me. Obviously, she would have to tip-off Cathy to see if she was interested. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she would at least think about it. So. Was I willing to have my wife be "nigger fucked." Simple as that.

"Do you really think she would do this?" Somehow, I couldn't picture my conservative, inhibited wife even considering such a proposal.

"Let me review," said Jenna. "Always three or four fingers. Gets turned on watching big black cocks—you said that yourself. Doesn't seem to get a thrill when you are dipping into her? The guy's a hunk. He's got the biggest cock I've ever seen. What do you think?"

I told Jenna to see if she could make it work. Somehow, the thought of my wife allowing a black cock into a pussy that had (to the best of my knowledge) only admitted me, was a turn on. My final requirements were two: Jenna was to make sure that she brought condoms. I had a hard time imagining Jenna could pull this off and if she did, I couldn't fathom Cathy even considering doing anything unprotected (and secretly, I didn't really relish my wife's pussy getting shot full of some black guys cum). Secondly, if anything at all did happen, I wanted all the juicy details. My cock had been steadily getting harder the longer we talked. I knew that I had been leaking pre-cum for some time. Jenna has also picked up on my growing erection.

Jenna glanced at her watch. "Mom won't be home for another half hour." She undid my belt. I got the hint and stood to lower my pants. I watched with growing anticipation as she slipped out of hers. By the time she had removed her panties, revealing her bush in all its radiant glory, I was beside myself with desire. She stroked my cock as I caressed her pussy. Should I have been surprised as I slipped a finger that she was as wet as I was? Balancing on my lap, she rubbed my cock back and forth the length of her pussy lips, then lowered herself onto me. God, I was ready to burst as I felt her slippery warmth settle fully on my cock.

Leaning so she could whisper in my ear, she said "Kind of like the thought of Cathy getting fucked by some black dude, don't you? Kind of like thinking about him shooting his cum into her pussy, don't you? You'd like to watch her cunt get nigger fucked, wouldn't you?"

That was all it took. I took another stroke or two and dumped my load. Normally, I can last for ten minutes or more, but not this time. The thought of what Cathy might agree to pushed me over the edge. I felt bad for having done nothing for Jenna, but that would have to wait until later....

Sometime within the next week, Jenna had a long talk with Cathy, who agreed to think about the many possibilitiess of her plan. Cathy, of course, was not informed that I had approved everything.

The following weekend, Cathy off-handedly mentioned that she and Jenna were thinking of going to "the cities" to do a bit of early Christmas shopping.

"Just for the day?" I asked. I knew the real reason for the trip. It would be interested in seeing how far Cathy could carry the fiction. No, they were thinking of maybe spending a night or two, depending on what was being offered for entertainment in the local theaters.

"Entertainment!" I thought. I knew exactly what entertainment was being planned. My own wife was contemplating getting fucked. Oh, well. I was getting mine. Why shouldn't she have hers?

I was later to find out from my sister that Cathy was having panic attacks as the day for departure drew near. What if she got caught was the thought that consumed her day and night. To cover her tracks, she insisted on both she and Jenna making a careful list of items from widely scattered stores in the city so they could make some purchases without wasting a lot of time. Cathy even went so far as to do some on-line searching, calling the stores to make sure the things she wanted were in stock, then placing them on hold. The plan was to quickly flit from shopping center to shopping center to get that part of the alibi established.

That night, as arranged, Cathy was introduced to her prospective mate for the night. After showering, Cathy nervously began to dress; Jenna said Cathy almost started to hyperventilate. She didn't think she would be able to do it. She didn't even think she had the guts to meet the guy. Crisis time once again. Jenna once again reassured Cathy that she could—at any time—say no. All she had to think of right now was that they were going out for dinner and drinks. Maybe Cathy and Gene wouldn't "click," maybe he wouldn't be interested in her, whatever. Cathy could always bail out.

Finally, Cathy calmed down. She agreed that just having dinner couldn't hurt. Jenna glanced one last time in her purse to make sure she had the condoms, then held the door open for her sister-in-law and turned out the lights. But Cathy was still as skittish as an unridden mare when they walked into the nightclub on the street level. It offered everything that should guarantee success. Low-level lighting, a racially mixed crowd, excellent food and service, a small orchestra type band to encourage especially slow, intimate dancing.

Gene was already seated, sipping on a drink, when they arrived. He did everything he could to ease Cathy's misgivings. Throughout the meal, he engaged both women in small talk. By the time Cathy and Jenna had finished their steak and lobster, Cathy seemed almost comfortable, genuinely sharing in the laughter produced by the stories Gene regaled the women with. Following an after-dinner drink, he asked if one of them would care for a dance. When Cathy hesitated, Jenna quickly jumped at the opportunity. It was while dancing, she again admonished Gene to go slowly and warned him that things might not work out as they had carefully planned. Cathy always had the right to call the entire thing off. Although Gene already knew this, his hopes were running high. After a discussion of how things were going so far (so far so good, was all Jenna could tell him), the set ended and they returned to the table.

Following another drink, the orchestra reassembled. Gene asked Cathy for the next dance. When she hemmed her way through not giving an answer, Gene rose, extended his hand to her and made some funny promise about not stepping on her feet—too much. That started Cathy laughing. Finally, she took the dark hand extended to her and allowed herself to be escorted to the dance floor. One number led to another. Jenna caught occasional glimpses of them together and was pleased to note that Gene was being the perfect gentleman. Although he held Cathy tight and had his hand resting just on the swell of her hip, he was not overtly hitting on her. Jenna could see that they were talking back and forth and that Cathy was rewarding his quips with a broad smile.

Their final dance ended. They sat to finish their drinks and ordered another. Finally, Jenna stated that it was getting late. Maybe it was time the two girls headed for room and would Gene care to escort them.

Cathy had another panic attack. Clearly, she enjoyed the company and attention Gene was providing, but the mention of the room with its bed and the forbidden things that might take place once they got there, set her off. Jenna could see her resolve melting before her eyes. She asked Gene if she could talk privately with Cathy for a moment and, after Gene left the table, again told Cathy it was one step at a time. Gene knew why they were there. He had also promised that Cathy would be calling all the shots. Cathy said okay, but she would agree only to Gene walking them to the room.

When Gene returned, the girls rose and said they were ready to go. Gene offered his arm to Cathy, who surprised all of them when she accepted it. As they rode the elevator to their room, Gene made a point of standing just behind Cathy, their bodies just barely touching, but close enough so that Cathy would feel his breath on the nape of her neck. Gene again offered his arm for the walk down the deserted hallway, then changed his mind and put his arm around Cathy's waist. Cathy did not resist. When they reached the door, Cathy turned to say goodnight (and farewell) to her "date," thanking him for the lovely evening. She was now standing squarely in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. He hesitated, then slowly drew Cathy into his arms. When she opened her mouth to protest, he covered her mouth with a kiss. As his kiss deepened and Cathy ceased to push against his chest to free herself, Gene pulled her tightly against his body, now placing his hands on both hips to mash their pelvises together. Cathy had to be aware of the partial erection Jenna had previously noted when they had reached the door.

This is when Jenna was supposed to disappear, leaving Cathy and Gene to themselves. But my panic-stricken wife, who was fully involved in Gene's kisses, broke contact with Gene when Jenna said she was going to leave them alone and would be back later.

"No, I can't do this," was Cathy's quivering response. "Sorry you went to all this trouble, Gene, but I just can't. I've never done this before. Pleeease."

By now the hall was no longer abandoned. Several couples could be heard chatting as they made their was toward them in an adjoining hallway. Cathy said she didn't want anyone to see them together.

"Let's settle this inside, then," was Jenna's solution. She had already opened the door. Now she whisked Cathy inside. Gene followed on her heels, apparently much to the shock of Cathy when he closed the door behind them.

"Okay. Look." he began addressing her. "We both know what the deal is. You have never been with a black guy. I am the great unknown. Well, I have never been with a white girl either. Don't believe all those things you hear about black guys only having one thing on their minds, getting a piece of white nookie. I'll leave anytime you say so. But this may never happen again for either of us. I suggest we at least see what develops. I won't hurt you. I'm not here to rape you. I think we both would like to have a bit of fun. We can ask Jenna to leave, I can leave, or you can ask Jenna to stay for awhile if that would make you more comfortable. So, what do you say?"

The thought of Jenna staying was a new one for both of the women, but it seemed to offer comfort and security to Cathy who agreed Gene could stay, but just for awhile and only if Jenna would stay.

Gene asked Jenna to find some slow dancing music on the radio. He said he wanted one more dance with Cinderella before he changed into a pumpkin. That broke the ice for Cathy, who again burst out laughing. Luckily, Jenna quickly found suitable music. Gene bowed to Cathy, asked if he could have the pleasure of this dance, and smiled broadly when she accepted.

Cathy nestled herself in his outstretched arms. But unlike before, when he had held Cathy in the more sedate, traditional style, this time both his hands rested on the swell of Cathy's hips. She had her arms around his shoulders. Gene bided his time. When one song had finished and a second had begun, he kissed Cathy on each closed eyelid, then put his lips to her mouth. At first she resisted, turning her head to left and right, then centered them again to accept his kiss, a kiss which he held while pulling Cathy more tightly to him. Jenna strongly suspected that by now, Gene would have to have a fully hard cock. And Cathy would have to know that too. As Gene probed Cathy's lips with his tongue, she again initially resisted, then opened her lips to give him access. Now they were no longer dancing. The kiss went on and on, Cathy now clearly sucking on Gene's tongue, while Gene moved her hips gently from side to side, lending irrefutable evidence of his tumescent state.

Jenna just stood in the short hallway, transfixed by what she was viewing. She wasn't even supposed to be there!

But Cathy seemed to have become oblivious of her presence in the room, as Gene now began to undo the buttons on the front of Cathy's spaghetti-strap gown. Then he slowly eased the straps to the side. Cathy lowered her arms to let the gown fall to her feet, stepping out of her shoes at the same time. She now stood in only bra and panties. Gene took one of her hands and guided it to his erection, before undoing his slacks and letting them fall to the floor, also kicking off his shoes, leaving him standing only in his socks and boxer shorts from his waist down. Pulling Cathy tight against his cock, their lips met again.

Finally, breaking the kiss, he stepped to the bed and pulled back the top coverings. He then turned to face my wife, again extending his hand to her in silent beckoning.

As though in a trance, Cathy answered his call. As they again embraced by the bed, Gene busied himself with the closure of her bra, which soon joined her other clothes and his on the floor. As her nipples began to harden, Cathy raised her arms to cover them. But Gene gently pushed her arms to the side, then lowered his mouth to each breast in turn, planting a series of gentle kisses, always avoiding the nipples, before finally taking one into his mouth. Cathy's head had fallen backwards, now totally caught up in the sensations of the moment. Gene busied himself with sucking her nipples, at the same time taking as much of each tit into his mouth as he could.

Finally, he lowered Cathy to the bed, then bent down to pull off her panties. He spent a moment staring at Cathy's pussy, then simply rested his cheek on her mound, no doubt enjoying the feel of her pussy hair, perhaps enjoying the aroma, certainly aware that he was to soon get his first taste of white pussy. Cathy, meanwhile was massaging her own tits, cupping her breasts repeatedly, letting her hands slide towards her nipples, which she then tweaked and pulled before repeating the movement.

Gene began to eat her pussy.

"Oh, my God," thought Jenna. "Cathy is going to let herself get fucked."

Cathy was writhing on the bed, now aware only of the mouth that was giving her pleasure. Gene was alternately licking the entire length of her folds, spearing her pussy and flicking his clit with his tongue. Although busy with her tits, Cathy occasionally would reach down to frig her clit when Gene had his tongue buried in her cunt. Finally, she told him not to stop as her hand became a blur on her clit. Then she started cumming, the tendons on her neck standing out as she was overcome with the power of her orgasm. When she finally began to relax, Gene shifted his position to cover her body, fitting nicely between Cathy's still splayed legs. He supported his upper weight on his elbows. His cock rested on her lower stomach. Once again, he kissed Cathy with his mouth fully open, the area from chin to nose covered with her pussy juices. She passionately returned his kiss.

Pausing, he pulled away, looked Cathy in the eye, and simply asked her "Are you sure?" Cathy responded by whispering that she wanted to see him. Gene rolled to the side as Cathy reached for his now massive cock, stroking it almost worshipfully in her hand. Without touching it with her lips, she held it against each of her cheeks, perhaps reveling in the heat and tremendous length and girth of his member. His cock left a trail of pre-cum on each cheek. Then she lay back down, spread her legs, inviting him to mount her, reaching for his cock to guide it into her womanhood.

In a panic, Jenna grabbed her purse, pulled out one of the condoms and waved it at Cathy. But without saying a word, Cathy simply shook her head. Then the massive black cock began to slowly disappear into her cunt.

Jenna would later tell me how she would never forget that moment. At first, Cathy's pussy showed resistance to the huge cockhead attempting to penetrate her. Then Gene's cock popped through that barrier. Always the gentleman and apparently based on his experience with other women, Gene didn't plunge in, but slowly and steadily kept sinking his cock into her cunt, awaiting the inevitable bottom. But Cathy showed no sign of distress; Gene was able to maintain his probing until his cock had fully been accepted by my wife's cunt, his balls resting on her ass. But Cathy's pussy lips remained stretched to the limit by his cock. It almost looked like Cathy was grasping his now plunging cock with two thick rubber bands. And how that man could fuck without cumming. He just went on and on, varying the tempo of his thrusts, slightly shifting the angle of his approach, changing the depth of his penetration. Jenna had never seen anything that even remotely approached this. She was watching not some video, but an actual white woman—my wife—getting fucked within an inch of her life by a black man. The contrast of their colors was totally erotic. Once while being fucked, Cathy forced her hand between their bodies to work her clit, being rewarded with yet another orgasm. Once, Gene pulled out of Cathy to again suck her tits before eating her pussy, causing another orgasm. Other times she came simply because she was being fucked while finally having her pussy totally filled.

After what seemed an eternity, Gene began increasing the speed of his thrusts. It was clear to Jenna that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. He slowed for a moment to inform Cathy that he was about to cum, giving her the final say on where exactly that was going to happen.

Cathy's answer was to increase the pace of her cunt strokes on his cock, moving her legs even higher on his flanks, strengthening her embrace of his shoulders, urging him to continue. Gene got the message. His cock strokes now quickened as he pistoned into her pussy. He began to make soft grunting sounds and grabbed Cathy's ass cheeks, raising them further off the bed, allowing him to penetrate her even more deeply. Jenna could see that Cathy had now surpassed her capacity. With each stroke Gene made inward, burying his cock completely in her pussy, Cathy was silently wincing as the head of his cock battered against her cervix. This cum was not going to be deposited in her vagina, it was going directly into her uterus. Finally, the dam broke. He emptied his balls into her.

My sister told me that just before he started cumming, it was like time again stood still for her. She could remember every detail vividly. Both Gene and Cathy covered with sweat. His ball sack, which had been resting on Cathy's ass while they were fucking, now began flexing. Jenna counted seven times that his sack had tightened, each time his nuts lifting upward. The first time, Gene was as though locked permanently within Cathy's pussy, where he remained motionless for seconds. Then he had withdrawn his cock somewhat, only to thrust again into her, holding that position, his nuts again lifting as his cum was squeezed out. Another withdrawal, another thrust into her cunt, another shot of cum. Seven times!The lovers lay together, frozen in time, exhausted by their coupling. Gene had filled Cathy with a tremendous load which was beginning to seep from her pussy as his cock slowly softened. Cathy had cum more times than either she or Jenna could later remember.

Jenna was now lying—still fully clothed since this was not her scene being played out—on the bed alongside Cathy, slowly stroking her hair and cheeks. Cathy just rested with her eyes closed, no doubt lost in her own thoughts, enjoying the afterglow.

As Gene's softening cock finally slipped from Cathy's pussy, both he and Jenna gazed at the amount of sperm slowly oozing from pussy to ass cheeks to sheet, mesmerized by the sight.

Finally, Cathy roused herself and once again took Gene's cock in her hand. Aware that Gene was losing his erection, Cathy began stroking him. Apparently, she wanted more. When she could see that her efforts were having little effect, she took his cock in her mouth. She could fit only about half his softening length in her mouth, a length covered with the mixed juices of their lovemaking. As his cock now began to harden, Gene gently began pumping his hips toward her. As his tumescence increased, Cathy could take less and less of his cock into her mouth, but that didn't lessen her attempts. Occasionally gagging on his thickening cock, slobber began to cover its surface. Her mouth became covered with a frothy mixture of his pre-cum and her saliva, with a bit of her own cum sauce mixed in. Jenna, who until now had been simply an observer, moved to the bed and gently cupped Gene's balls, using Cathy's now copious saliva to make her hands more slippery. She was rewarded by Cathy reaching into her blouse, cupping on of Jenna's tits, while increasing her jack-suck motions on the cock which had brought her so much pleasure.

It was becoming too much for Gene. Much more quickly than before, he was nearing orgasm. Fucking his first white woman apparently had been something. Having one willingly sucking his cock was, perhaps something he hadn't dared to hope for. Pulling his cock from her mouth, he told Cathy he was almost ready to cum. It was his way of offering her to just jack him off, it that is what she wanted. If anything, that strengthened Cathy's resolve. She wanted to end the night by doing the one thing she had always forbidden herself. Returning her mouth to his cock, she redoubled her labor. Seconds later, Gene began to cum. Jenna had anticipated that she would stop when that happened, aware of my experience with Cathy. But Cathy kept herself locked to his black cock as his cum began filling her mouth. Jenna clearly witnessed her throat working as she swallowed what she could, the rest of Gene's spunk leaking from her mouth onto her tits, tits which had never been covered with my cum.

Taking his cum in that manner was, as you have been told, something Cathy had never done with me and still hasn't all these years later. I will admit to an uncontrollable burst of anger which it took some time to get over when I heard my sister's report. I was livid that that worthless cock-sucking, mother-fucking bitch of a wife who couldn't lower herself to sucking my cock, had not only allowed herself to get fucked without using a condom, she had sucked him off, willingly swallowing much of his cum in the process.

But my bitterness has to be tempered by the fact that I was the one who had given Jenna and—by default— Cathy the green light for this evening. Metaphorically, I was the one, as much as Cathy, who had guided Gene's black cock into my wife's willing cunt.

Cathy then settled back onto the bed, a hint of a smile on her face, her hand resting on Gene, who lay beside her. Soon she was asleep. Gene and Jenna carefully rose from the bed. Jenna pulled the blankets over my sleeping wife, then helped Gene collect his clothing.

Without a word, Jenna handed him the unused condom. Gene just gave an innocent smile, nodded in the direction of Cathy, and shrugged his shoulders. He walked to the door and after opening it, turned to face Jenna. He gave her a tip of his imaginary hat, then quietly closed the door behind himself. A week later, as scheduled, he transferred back to Philadelphia. As per their agreement, neither Jenna nor Gene mentioned that night again.

Jenna filled me in on all the details shortly after the girls returned. They had spent several hours the next morning going over everything that had happened—Cathy still not able to believe that she had actually done it—but giddy with the fact that she had. Then the two of them made love.

I did have to ask Jenna if she had considered getting fucked by Gene that night. After all, they certainly had the opportunity while Cathy slept. And even though I had asked the question, a part of me dreaded hearing the answer. I was fucking a mother who had been raped by two black men, I would be fucking a wife who had made the decision to let herself get fucked by Gene. I would have been less than thrilled to hear that my sister also had a yearning to cross this ultimate racial barrier. I was only partially relieved when Jenna told me that she had only considered the opportunity for a minute before rejecting the idea. The sight of black on white and the obvious strength of Cathy's orgasms had left her own pussy sopping wet. I was only slightly appeased when she said the determining factor is that—never having been stretched out by giving birth as Cathy had—she didn't think she would be able to handle Gene's cock. But before falling asleep that night next to Cathy, Jenna had brought herself to several orgasms to relieve the aching in her own pussy, reliving the lurid details over in her mind, curious as to what it might have felt like to have experimented with Gene.

Years have passed since all this took place. There were other adventures for Cathy. Jenna slept with a few other guys. I continued fucking my mother and sister whenever possible. I attempt to pass no judgment on any of us. All of us were cheating on someone. Three of us were practicing incest. At the same time that Jenna continued as Cathy's sometimes lesbian lover, always swearing she would never tell a soul, she was giving detailed reports to me. Jenna was fucking me behind Frank's back, but that, perhaps out of necessity. Only my mother retained her position of sainthood in my eyes. As the years slipped by, my mother put on some additional weight, her tits began to sag, eventually hanging like overripe pears on her chest, we found it necessary to use a lubricant before intercourse to make up for diminishing flow of her natural lubrication.

I have no doubt some of my readers will pass judgment for me. If Cathy had gotten off by getting "nigga fucked" (as Jenna had put it), I make an honest effort to celebrate her moments of happiness. Needless to say, her infidelity did nothing to improve our couplings. Cathy continued to reject my suggestions of fantasizing about being fucked by a black guy, even though she gravitated towards those kind of videos. She still granted me only limited access to eating her pussy, even though it sounded like she would have gladly let Gene feast on her forever. I am still bitter and will probably always be. Yet, at the same time, a part of me regrets that I had not been there to see Cathy perform, perhaps to fuck her after she had finished with Gene.

No story ever really has an end. This one is no exception. I have to admit I feel better for having shared my experience on paper. Accept it if you want, if not, consider it just another made-up story.

Either way, life simply goes on. And that is what I intend to do.