So My Wife Wants Black Dick - Sex Stories

So My Wife Wants Black Dick

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 f****y 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 asl**p. 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 k**s 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 f****y 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 ...