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Archive name: blkdick.txt (M+/F, intr, slut-wife)
Authirs name: Atma Dragoon (anonymous)
Story title : So My Wife Wants Black Dick
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So My Wife Wants Black Dick (MF, intr, slut-wife)
by Atma Dragoon (anonymous)
***
Note: The following is a work of pure fiction from a
more than slightly deranged mind. I am in no way
racist, but have found the flood of stories under the
"Wimpy-White-Husband" theme slightly disturbing. I
thought it was time for a story with a happy ending. Oh
yeah, if you're under 18 or however old you have to be
to read this shit in your area, don't read it.
***
My name is Nicholas Atman, and I'm a computer network
engineer for a very prestigious company in the
Southeast (It's not important in which state or
anything). My wife, Sarah, has been very loving for the
duration of our twenty-year marriage, but lately,
something has changed with her.
We met in our senior year of High School, and fell in
love so desperately that nothing could keep us apart. I
refused to marry her until I could support us both, but
together we worked hard and eventually we tied the
knot. A few years later, we were blessed by a little
bundle of joy we named Jessica. Yes, our family was
growing steadily, and so was the love.
Every night I've managed to satisfy Sarah sexually at
least twice in a row, and because my stamina is so
high, we've managed to do it five times straight once
or twice. I wasn't surprised when we had a son, named
Derek, shortly afterwards. But my point is, I figured I
had been doing everything possible to service my lovely
wife, but later on I found out such was not the case.
Every night after I drifted off into a rock-like
slumber (I found out this started somewhere after our
tenth year anniversary) my wife would sneak out and go
to ALL BLACK bars looking for action.
Needless to say, when I found this out I was in for a
bit of a shock. I hadn't imagined my wife had been
anything less than purely devoted to me! But when my
friend, Jeremy, had told me he'd seen her hanging on
three black men in downtown, I began to have my doubts.
One night, after we'd had sex three times for a total
of four hours, I pretended to fall fast asleep. After
what seemed to be five minutes, Sarah crept out of bed
and began dressing. I could feel my insides burning
with rage, but I calmed the flames momentarily.
Perhaps she had a good reason to be sneaking out, like
maybe she was going to surprise our kids and me
somehow. My reasoning were the last attempt of a broken
heart to sort things out.
When I heard the front door open and close, I threw on
a pair of jeans and a white-tee shirt and bolted out
the door, grabbing my leather trench coat as I went.
When Sarah got into my car (an Acura Legend) and pulled
out of the driveway, I made my way to the family car
she often used (a mini-van) and gave chase.
Sure enough, our destination was downtown, and we made
our way to a bar called "THE COAL BURNER." I was
disgusted to find it was a bar intended for white women
to pick up black men and vice versa. I'm not racist at
all, but the fact my WIFE of twenty years was doing
this made me smolder with rage.
I attempted to follow her in through the front door,
but the bouncer, a huge black man, stopped me. "Hold
on, Honky, this club ain't for you."
"My wife's in there." I insisted calmly.
"Then she knows what's good for her." The bouncer
replied with a smirk.
Shrugging, I made my way around the side. Apparently,
the bouncer motioned to his buddy to watch the door for
him, and he followed me around the building. I was
examining the structure of the place when I heard him
call out to me.
"Man, you don't git it, do ya?" He shouted at me. "You
ain't welcomed here, you an' yer racist bullshit. Git
th'hell outta here, crackah."
I walked calmly over to him, shrugging. "I guess you're
right. I am pretty damned racist. Well, in that case,
you better step aside, mister."
"Mister!? You patronizing me, boy?!"
"No, now I am insulting you, you low-class, uneducated,
scumbag of a human being. Get your black ass out of my
face before I have to shove my white foot up it."
Apparently, the bouncer took that as an insult and sent
his huge fist my way. I deftly moved to one side and
sent my fist on a collision course with his balls.
Before he could finish doubling over in pain, I grabbed
his genitals, pulled him down farther, and slammed my
fist square in his left temple. Needless to say, he was
out like a light.
"Call me a honky, will you?" I said, cracking my
knuckles, and resumed my inspection of the wall.
Before long, I found a way to climb up a series of
fire-exits and enter a window on the third floor. I
slipped into a room and heard familiar moans of
pleasure. Instantly, the lights went on, and I saw a
huge black man pausing his fuck to glare angrily at me.
Beneath him was a young woman I recognized from my
work.
I sighed at them. "Linda, isn't Robert expecting you
back at home?" She didn't take that comment very well,
and her black "stud" got up to beat my ass.
"Listen, I'm just here to find my wife." I said calmly.
"Now relax before you end up like the bouncer out
there."
"You beat up Ty?" The black man snarled, his large
hands curling into fists.
I nodded. "Yeah. He called me a 'honky' and a
'racist.'"
"You are! All white men are!" The man hissed, lunging
at me. I sidestepped again, and brought out of my
trench coat a little butterfly knife I'd had for some
time and brought with me in case things got ugly. They
didn't come much uglier than this guy, so I flipped it
out and pointed it at his dick.
"If you don't let me leave this room, I don't let your
dick leave, either." I warned. He didn't listen to me.
He charged again, and punched out. I dodged, but he
didn't underestimate me this time. He altered his
attack at the last second and smashed me pretty hard in
the face. I reeled back, but came up again, slashing
out with my knife. Needless to say, Linda would have to
find another black "stud" since this one was now a
eunuch.
The man grasped his penis that now spurted blood and
looked up at me. I sighed and walked over to the phone
and dialed 911. "Hello, I'm at the 'Coal Burner' club,
and a man decided to attack me, so I fought back.
Unfortunately, I cut off his penis and, well, he's
going to need some help or else he'll die. Thank you."
I hung up and walked away.
I walked out of the room and instantly the lewd rap
music assaulted my ears. The pumping bass and constant
streams of obscenities were enough to make even 2 Live
Crew shudder in horror. I went to a walkway where I
could overlook the activities going on, on the dance
floor, and found that it wasn't too hard to spot my
wife.
She was dancing in the center with two athletic looking
black-men, and the crowd had left a large space for
them to do so. Sarah was practically naked in what she
was wearing, a tight fitting tank-top, a leather mini-
skirt, and some knee-high boots. By the end of the
dance, all she was wearing was her boots. The black men
weren't much different.
Before long, Sarah was on her knees and taking the
first man's member into her mouth (I was revolted
thinking that she wouldn't do that to me unless she was
very drunk) and the other one was taking her from
behind. Moaning and thrusting her body in two
directions, Sarah got the audience worked up so much
that several men came up and began to jerk off onto her
lovely white body.
While I watched this, my body twitched with anger. I
felt a hand lay itself on my shoulder and clutch hard.
I took it as an unfriendly gesture (also known as
ASSAULT) and sent my right hand slamming into the
person's stomach without even knowing who it was.
As I watched in silent rage, Sarah and the two men who
were fucking her came hard and loud. I thought I could
hear them over the rap. The others, excited by the sex,
came too, showering Sarah with their semen. Another
hand was laid on my shoulder, only this time another
pair grabbed my wrists and bound them with handcuffs. I
turned and without thinking, kicked the cop square in
the balls.
When I realized what had happened, I apologized and
allowed myself to be escorted out of the club by the
authorities. The cops were all black, since no white
cop was stupid enough to go into the club. The
policemen mostly sympathized with me after I told them
the story on the ride into the station, and said they
would have done the same thing if they'd been in my
shoes.
I spent a few hours in jail for assault on a police
officer (he didn't press charges though, since he was a
reasonable man) and called Jeremy, telling him the
whole story. I had plenty of money, so I reimbursed him
when he bailed me out of jail.
I stayed at Jeremy and his wife's house for the evening
so I wouldn't do anything stupid if I saw Sarah again.
I kept mostly to Jeremy's basement, which had a
punching bag and other work-out equipment. I wasn't
awesomely strong, but I kept myself in shape (mostly at
Sarah's request).
The next day, I returned having slept not at all in the
past 24 hours. Under normal circumstances I would have
been going mad, but I was so full of hate I could do
nothing but confront Sarah immediately. I sat down at
the breakfast table and smiled to my wife, our 18 year
old daughter, and our 16 year old son. They all looked
at me in bewilderment, then finally Sarah spoke.
"Honey, where have you been?" She asked. "I went out to
get some bacon and eggs for breakfast this morning and
when I came back you were gone!"
"'Coal Burner.'" I said, and Sarah looked as if she'd
seen a ghost. I needed to say no more.
Derek looked at me in surprise, for the first time
noticing the huge bruise on my forehead. Jessica
slightly giggled, and I glared angrily at her. Only
twice in their lives had I given them any real anger
(when Jessica had wrecked her car while giving her
boyfriend a blowjob and when Derek had been torturing
the cat) and they realized that this was a serious
matter.
"Ahm, children, why don't you go watch cartoons. It is
Saturday, after all." Sarah said, her face pale and
dripping with sweat.
Derek and Jessica nodded and ran off to watch TV. I
watched them leave, then turned to my wife. "Why?" Was
all I could ask. I'd been formulating a speech all
night, but it dissolved as my pain and feelings of
betrayal took over.
Sarah stammered something, but I wasn't paying
attention. I knew it was bullshit. She was half-denying
something, and half-admitting to something else. "Cut
the shit, Miss Carter." I said, using her maiden name.
When I said that, tears began to well up in her eyes.
"Why did you do this to me and how long have you been
doing it?"
I found out that every other night for the past five
years she had been fucking around exclusively with
black men. As the truth spilled from her lips, I
grasped a silver-spoon so hard it snapped. I placed it
down, and picked up a fork. Her excuse was that I
didn't satisfy her after she'd had her first black
cock, and that the excitement of the cheating was so
great! She told me how they made her feel like she was
special and tons of other ridiculous theories as to why
she's been cheating on her loving husband for five
years.
Half-way through her argument, I stood up and told her
to shut her mouth. "I want a divorce." I said with all
the strength in the world. "I want the house, I want
the kids, and you can have compensation for the things
YOUR paycheck bought us. I don't think the judge would
have any problems with my solution."
Sarah ran away crying. I just sat at the breakfast
table for some time until my children came in. "Daddy,
why is mom crying?" Derek asked.
"Did you hurt her?!?" Jessica demanded, slamming her
hands onto the table.
"No way!" Derek shouted. "Dad wouldn't do that!" The
young boy got in his sister's face, his fists balled up
and ready to fight.
"Don't fight with your sister now, Derek." I said,
sorrow filling my voice. "You two will need to be
strong for each other now. Your mother and I are
getting divorced."
"WHAT?!" The siblings shouted in unison. "NO WAY!"
They both demanded to know whose idea it was, and I
said it was mine, because I felt it just wasn't working
out. I didn't want to ruin Sarah's name to her children
that would be petty.
Of course they were both upset, and reasonably so.
Still, I just excused myself and left the house for a
while.
I spent the entire day at a gym boxing with a few of my
friends until I heard someone angrily shout my name.
"NICK!" It sounded like a black man, and my God, I'd
heard enough and seen enough of them for a while, not
to be racist but this was still a shock to me.
I turned and saw the two men from the club last night
who'd fuck Sarah. They climbed into the ring, and I
noticed one of them had a metal chain and the other had
brass knuckles. "You cuttin' us off?" One of them
demanded.
"Cutting you off? I don't quite understand." I said,
leaning into one of the corners of the ring.
"Yeah, if you divorce Sarah, we don't get no mo' of yo'
money from her! We don't want dat!" The man explained
while he twirled his chain. "You best stay hitched, if
you know what's good fo'ya!"
"Go fuck your mothers." I said, sighing wearily.
"We gonna fuck you up, den we gonna fuck yo' old lady.
We gonna fuck her nice an' good." The one with the
brass knuckles said, advancing.
Before they could take one step forward, I heard the
cock of a shotgun. I looked past the two men, and there
was Mikey, the owner of the gym (who just happened to
be black).
"You fellas might have a problem with Nick, here, but
if either one of you touch him, I swear to God I'll
come after you myself."
The one with the chain briefly gave Mikey some bullshit
about me raping one of his little girls. "Bullshit!" I
yelled, getting angry all of a sudden. "You two have
been fucking my wife! It should be me coming to kick
your asses, but I prefer to deal with things in a more
civilized manner."
Mikey stepped back, not moving his gun for an instant.
"You two been fuckin' Nick's wife? Boy, if I were you
I'd be damn glad I came together and had weapons."
"What 'cho mean, you Uncle Tom Mutha-fucka?" Brass-
knuckles asked.
I saw Mikey's face twitch at the insult. "I MEAN, you
arrogant nigger, that if it was just one on one, Nick
would wipe the floor with your asses. And you know the
truth, I'd like to see it, too. You two give black
people a bad name!"
"'Zat so?" Chain asked.
"Zat's so!" Mikey said in his best Uncle Tom voice.
"Me first." Said Brass Knuckles as he dropped his
weapon.
Chain walked to the side of the ring and waited.
"Don't beat him too quick! I want some, too!" Chain
shouted.
Mikey got up in Chain's face pretty quick after that
remark. "This is one on one, nigger." Mikey spit. "You
try an' help your friend out, and I'll beat the black
off of you!"
That being said, Knuckles and I went at it. He was
pretty good, and managed to sock me a few times, mostly
in the stomach. But I could tell he was relying on his
fists too much, and since this was Almost-Anything-
Goes, I threw a punch to place him off balance, then
swept his legs out from under him. He hit the floor
pretty hard, and I backed off.
He came at me again, and to make a long story short
(TOO LATE!) I wailed on him.
Beaten and bruised, Knuckles crawled over to Chain and
tagged him "in". I stretched a bit, then continued the
fight. If I hadn't been weary from another fight, I
might have done better. Chain proved to be much better
than Knuckles, and in the long run, beat me almost
senseless. Being the honorable winner he was, he kicked
me in the ribs, spat on me, then told me I'd better not
divorce Sarah.
As the two turned to walk away, Mikey raised his
shotgun one last time and demanded their wallets. He
told them he could keep their money, but their ID's
were his. With a shotgun in their faces, they agreed,
and took two wads of money out of their respective
wallets.
Mikey came over to me, helped me to the infirmary, and
bandaged me up. I told the whole story to the guys who
surrounded me, giving them all the gut-wrenching
details. I found out each one of them sided with me,
and they all promised to help in any way possible. I
told them I was going to deal with this, but I knew
where to find them if I needed anything.
I came home late, and found my sister, wife, and
daughter sitting at the table, all talking to each
other and drinking coffee. I came and sat down and
looked at my sister.
"So I guess you know the news, huh?" I asked.
"What happened to you, daddy?" Jessica asked.
"Two of mommy's 'friends' came and tried to beat some
sense into me." I said, still padding my head with a
damp towel. "I don't think they succeeded."
"Yes, Nick, I know the news. You are divorcing Sarah
because she wants to fuck black men."
I glared at Nancy, my sister, in horror. "Not in front
of my daughter!" I hissed.
"Oh, I know daddy!" Jessica said happily. "I'm glad
mommy finally came around!"
I turned and looked at my daughter in shock. "What did
you say?"
Sarah moved between Jessica and me. "You're not going
to hit her like you hit Wallace, are you?!?" She
snarled.
"Wallace?" I asked. "Which one was he, Knuckles or
Chain?"
"What?"
"Yeah, one of them came at me with Brass Knuckles, the
other one had a chain. I beat the one with Brass
Knuckles pretty badly, but Chain hit me with a few very
cheap shots then kicked me while I was down. Charming
men, I can see why you like them."
Sarah sighed. "They're very deep and sensitive if you
got to know them." She defended them even now. I hated
her very much at this moment.
"They just..." I was about to say, 'They just want to
fuck you, you stupid slut!' but Jessica was right there
and I didn't want to disrespect her mother. "They're
animals, pure and simple. If you want them, fine, you
can have them, but you can't have me, too."
"But I still love you, Nick, that's why I'm still
here!" My wife said, wrapping her arms around me.
"Nope. You're still here because you want my money.
Those funds that went missing lately are how they paid
for their shiny new Impalas, right? And don't you dare
lie to me." I pried myself from her grip.
Sarah began crying, and Jessica moved to defend her
mother. "How can you say such things, daddy!?" She
cried. "I... I don't want you to be my daddy anymore!"
Those words cut like a hot knife throughout every
square inch of my body and soul. My daughter just
denounced me because my wife was a slut. I let the damp
towel fall from my limp fingers and swayed slightly in
my chair. How could this be happening.
"Just because mommy likes black dicks doesn't mean you
have to treat her like this! I know how she feels!"
"Jessica..." I gasped.
"I know how it feels to be held in the arms of a
powerful black man."
"Jessica!"
"I know how it feels," She continued, sensing my
distress and enjoying it, "To feel his huge cock inside
of me, tearing me in two, then to feel his spunk shoot
out into my little..."
"JESSICA!!" I roared, slamming my fist into the table.
I felt a hand slap across my face, and turned to find
it was my sister who'd done so. "If only you knew how
they, how WE, feel about this, Nick!" Her words hit
home, too. Nancy, too, was a part of this. "If only you
were black, maybe your wife and daughter would still
love you."
I was speechless. I simply sat there in my chair while
my wife cried, my daughter tried to comfort her, and my
sister berated me. What the hell was going on!?
Finally, Sarah spoke. She said that Wallace and Aron
(Aron was the other gentleman who used the chain) had
told her that she had the power in this situation, and
that she could sue me for everything I had. They helped
her come up with her demands for us to stay married,
otherwise the divorce would take everything I had.
1) I was not allowed to fuck Sarah or any other girl.
If I was horny, I could jack off.
2) Wallace and Aron were to live in the house, and I
was to move to the guest quarters.
3) I was to act as a maid, servicing Sarah, Jessica,
and both Aron and Wallace.
4) Derek was to learn how to properly respect black
men, which meant worshiping them and allowing them
complete control over him.
5) I was to transfer all my funds to a bank account
controlled by Wallace, Aron, and Sarah.
There were more, but I didn't feel like listening to
them all. The bitches had even created a contract for
me to sign. My signature consisted of taking the
contract and shoving it into my back pocket. I told the
girls I would think about it, but needed to be by
myself.
As I staggered out of the kitchen, I heard giggling. As
I moved closer, I found the three women laughing at me.
"Oh, he's so damned wimpy! This is the best thing we've
ever done to him!" Sarah said, wiping the mock-tears
from her eyes.
"Yeah, Nicky is a wimp, isn't he, mommy?"
"Yes, Jessica. All white-boys are wimps. You should
remember that."
"I can't believe he's my brother."
Moving as silently as possible, I went and got the
camcorder from my room and began taping the spectacle.
They weren't even aware I was recording their plans on
what they would do when Wallace and Aron moved in. They
even planned on turning me into a woman!
I decided to even use the camcorder to record the orgy
the three woman had when the two black men brought over
some of their friends.
That night, I sat outside and looked up at the stars.
My daughter, my sister, and my wife had all turned on
me and plotted against me. In my hands and in my pocket
I held the evidence for that.
"Dad, you're not a wimp, are you?" Derek said from
behind me.
I turned to him, my eyes welling with tears. "You don't
think so, do you, son?" I asked him.
"I don't know." He said, sitting next to me. "I don't
even know if I'M a wimp."
"I've been betrayed, Derek." I said simply. "By my
wife, your sister, and my sister. The bonds of love and
blood have been severed by their lust. I know what's
going to happen, and it's going to be hard, but we have
to stand by our convictions to the very end, even if it
means us dying.
"No one who does what his heart tells him to do is a
wimp. No one who stands up for himself is a wimp." I
looked at him and, for really the first time, I was
glad I could see myself in him. I knew he was mine, no
matter what. I knew he was beside me. "Neither one of
us are."
I did what my heart told me to do.
The judge's hammer hit the desk, and I smiled to
myself. I turned, looking at Derek, my son, Jeremy, my
best friend, and Rick, Nancy's husband, who all nodded
at me and smiled.
I stood up, then looked straight at Aron and Wallace,
who glared angrily at me. I'd beat them this time
without having to raise a fist. Beside them, Jessica
and Sarah wept. They would have to work now, since
their new supporters weren't nearly as rich as I was.
"Now, for the case of Nancy and Rick Norman." The judge
said, announcing the next divorce case.
I walked over to Derek, put my hand on his shoulder,
and smiled. "Come on, son, let's go home."
"I'm going to miss mom and Jessica." He said, his face
streamed with tears.
"You can see them, if you want." I offered.
"No way! The way they hurt you and used you! How could
I?!"
I smiled. I still had my number-1 fan.
As we walked out of the court-room, I heard Wallace
shout my name. "Hey Nicky! This ain't over!" He
shouted.
Wallace and Aron charged towards me, and before they
could pull their guns out, Mikey and a policeman (Bob,
Linda's husband) beat the living shit out of them. I
urged Derek to not watch, since the scene was pretty
gruesome.
Derek and I drove home in the Impala we'd won from the
case. My attorney had traced the funds from my bank
account into the two men's', and the judge agreed it
was only fair I get my money back.
***
Years later, my new wife Laura, our first child Susan,
and my son Derek sat together as a family watching
television. The news was saying something about a drug-
house that had been seized by the police and condemned.
In the background, Derek and I saw Wallace, Aron, Sarah,
Jessica, and Nancy all running from the building as the
police stormed in. The women weren't dressed very well,
appeared very gaunt, and were all pregnant.
The next day I alone went to the building, and noticed
a small series of card-board-boxes set up in an
alleyway. I went over to investigate and noticed that
it was the family that had started when my old family
had ended.
I glared at Sarah, then flipped her a five-dollar bill.
She yelped for joy (perhaps not recognizing me) and she
and the other began plotting their use for their new
income. I sighed and walked away, forever shutting out
my racist wife, daughter, and sisters' existences and
returning to my new family and better life.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 6