I would like to tell the stories of some of my wife's experiences

I wonder how different everything was in the military compared to what it might have been in Anytown,USA

I remember thinking about that back then,and knowing there was a difference in the way people looked at race,and it was occasionally apparent in conversations among people on post. I grew up in the far north,so my experience with black people was extremely limited,and I hadn't been out in the world very long when I met Hubby.

I thought I knew then that I was fortunate to be an Army wife. First,because open marriages were almost the norm. Secondly,because interracial sex and relationships weren't too uncommon either. I know now that I was right.
 
There have been periods of time when our sex life,my adventures had to be kept completely secret to avoid untold complications. That's still true in certain locations,and media can be a concern too.

I knew a few couples/wives in the Army who managed to keep their fun almost totally secret,but most were open secrets,including ours. There was a time when malicious gossip got under my skin,until you made me understand how it could be an advantage for me. You were right,and from then on,I didn't just tolerate it,I often encouraged it. The more men understood me,the better for both of us.
 
My best friend in Washington,I'll call her Bonnie,not her real name,but I think it fits her. You know who I'm talking about. Her otherwise useless husband loved putting black guys on me. He never got to watch,but I suspect some told him about how they fucked me. He was extremely jealous,and would've gone into fits if he'd known that Bonnie had sex with another man. I couldn't talk about it then,not even with you,but it's been long enough now that it doesn't matter. Bonnie got fucked really good on a few occasions,and it was always by black men,some of the same men that her husband put on me. See how that worked? lol!
 
My best friend in Washington,I'll call her Bonnie,not her real name,but I think it fits her. You know who I'm talking about. Her otherwise useless husband loved putting black guys on me. He never got to watch,but I suspect some told him about how they fucked me. He was extremely jealous,and would've gone into fits if he'd known that Bonnie had sex with another man. I couldn't talk about it then,not even with you,but it's been long enough now that it doesn't matter. Bonnie got fucked really good on a few occasions,and it was always by black men,some of the same men that her husband put on me. See how that worked? lol!

Very interesting..Were you ever with her or partied with her while she was fucked by any of the black guys..?
 
She was extremely nervous,especially the first time,and for multiple reasons. She had never been with anyone other than her husband,but she wanted it in a big way. She enjoyed getting herself off and letting me get her off while I told her about big black cocks and how they felt inside me. We had to make certain that she wouldn't be caught. It didn't happen often,because it was incredibly hard to arrange,but I was there every time. If anyone ever noticed,it would be assumed that I was the one being fucked,and and on occasion,I was.
 
Many aspects of my life were much different in Washington than in Germany. In Germany,I had had the luxury of reverting back to the way I had lived in Georgia,limiting my involvement with people almost entirely to black men. The situation in Washington was different from the beginning. I was nearing thirty with a growing kid,and my hubby was back in one of the Army's elite units,meaning he was away a lot more. I was thrust into a situation where I had to cooperate with other Army wives with *******. I was reluctant at first,but it worked out well. I smile now,thinking about how I did what was expected of me. It took a little effort,but I blended in. I dressed more or less like the others,much less slutty than ever before.(I continued doing that most of the time for years afterward,but now well into my fifties,I often dress like a teenage slut again:)

It was in that situation that I met Bonnie and several other young moms who became a pretty tight group.
 
Something Hubby said this morning that made me feel really good because of his attitude about it: I was talking about how a lot of black men were onto me right away in Washington,about how gossip makes it's way from point to point even faster in the military than in most places. He reminded me that there were several guys in Washington who had fucked me in Georgia and in Germany. He went on to say that he always knew that no matter where we went in the Army,after Georgia and Germany,that there would always be black men around who were familiar with my smell and how I feel. It's so cool that he likes that so much. I'm very lucky:)
 
Bonnie was about five years younger than me,and often looked much younger than she was. At times,I thought she looked like a teenager. She was a couple of inches taller than me and slim,athletic. She had long,naturally curly blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was really pretty and relatively quiet,sometimes seeming shy,although she actually wasn't. She wasn't overtly sexual,but she was much hotter by nature than almost anyone knew or would've guessed.
 
My thoughts keep going back to how different everything was for me in Washington compared to everything before that time. Hubby's right that I enjoyed it more than I've wanted to admit. It was far from an ideal situation. I had what I considered to be ideal situations in Georgia and in Germany. Washington was a more difficult time for me,a more stressful time. That said,I did get quite a lot of sex,considering how everything was. It was often rushed and under less than desirable circumstances,and often happened more randomly than ever before.

Bonnie knew almost everything that happened for me as it was happening. She was always interested in hearing about the details,and often reminded me how lucky I was that my husband approved and wasn't jealous. I found it puzzling that her husband seemed to find pleasure in tipping black men off that I was an easy score,but he was so jealous and possessive of his own wife. She was envious,but never resentful of me. In fact,it's accurate to say that Bonnie and I were lovers. I don't consider myself to really be bisexual,but I've been with several women. It's mostly been something I could take or do without,but it was different with Bonnie. Bonnie shared my love and enthusiasm for sex with black men too. That was a very tightly held secret.
 
Yesterday,I had a rare opportunity to visit a bar and lounge that's a short distance from the apartments where we lived when I met Victor and Curt.

It wasn't the first time I've been back in the area in recent years. We have family living near there now,so I've been reluctant to play there,although it's always tempting. It's where I was broken in and now obviously addicted to interracial sex.

I guess the nostalgic lure and my hyperactive libido overrode my sense of judgement and caution.

I've been asked about my wearing of Queen of Spades jewelry and items that identify me as being on the prowl for black men. I acquired a substantial collection of that stuff a year or so ago. I wore it often for a month or two,then I just stopped for no particular reason. I guess I usually don't think I need it to get attention. A few months ago,we had a fire that effectively ruined our home and destroyed or damaged many of our belongings. All of those items survived undamaged. I can't explain why,but I've since started wearing some of it again on occasions where it seems fitting.

It's been cold everywhere for the past few days,so dressing skimpily isn't an option.

I wore jeans and boots,and a long denim coat over a white tank top with an image of a woman riding a black bull,and hoops in my ears,a Q dangling from the left and a spade from the right.

The location of the bar is key. It's not only walking distance from several motels,but also the post. The patronage is racially mixed to such a degree that it might be majority black one hour and majority white the next. It's not a big place,and not a real party atmosphere,but more a place to play a game of pool and unwind with friends or meet new ones. There are such places everywhere we were while in the Army,and they've become of special interest to me lately. It's natural for me,within my comfort zone. Although it's been some time since I actually was one,I still feel like I'm an Army wife,and this locale is where I found my niche.

Once inside,we found a table near the back,where it was warmest,away from the door and near an arrangement of pool tables. Old habits. I kept my coat on for a while,but let it fall open. It wasn't long until my tank top was noticed,and I suspect also the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

Everybody in there was younger than us,most of them much younger.

I got knowing smiles from one young black soldier,then another and another,all of which I returned,pretending to blow a kiss to one who's eyes lingered in an appreciative way.

My hubby excused himself to go to the men's room,and everything went as expected. An offer of a *******,followed by my acceptance and invitation for the one to whom I had blown the kiss to sit with us. The small talk went directly to Army related things,places we had been and the like.

I noticed one of the pool tables had become available,and asked if we could shoot a game of pool. I'm not good at pool. I never have been,but I enjoy trying,and I really enjoy being given lessons.

As I stood and started to remove my coat,my hubby instinctively helped me out of it. The magnitude and my perception of the moment might have been somewhat exaggerated because of where we were,but I know I heard appreciative sounds as I walked the few steps to the pool table. It felt good to have their attention. It has always been an ego necessity for me to have them like what they see and want me. The mental and emotional aspect of that kind of experience is of no less importance to me than physical sex. I don't expect everybody to understand,and for those who do,my hubby most of all,I'm truly grateful. I felt really good about myself and how I looked.

I walked slowly toward the table in a way that would've surely gotten Curt's approval. I'm aware of my extra junk in the trunk these days,and I'm convinced that it isn't a bad thing. I like the way my butt looks in tight jeans,and the high boots helped too. My tits are still one of my best assets,and I like showing them. I don't know why I'm including this critique of my body,but since I've gone this far,I'll admit that I'm not a hundred percent happy with my waistline,but it's good enough that when it's warm,I'm willing to bare it to show my pierced navel and the spade I wear in it.

I selected a cue that felt balanced to me,acting as if I actually knew what I was doing,then waited while one of the guys racked the balls. I could feel their eyes on me from all angles as I leaned over the pool table. It felt wonderful! My heart was racing and I could feel myself starting to perspire. And to think I had been chilly a short time before that. Whew!

I made a lot of noise as I made the break,prompting a question from one guy who asked if I was always so loud. I acted as if I seriously considered the question before answering;No,not always. The pun was clear and opened the door for me to be as flirtatious and suggestive as I wished.

I was pleased that two balls went in the holes until I noticed that it had been one of each. My lack of skill in playing pool was immediately as obvious to all of them as the tank top and earrings I wore. That provided both them and me the opportunity I had counted on,lessons that included potent young black men leaning on me,holding my arms and hands,touching me in less than subtle ways. The touching quickly gave way to conspicuous groping of my most sensitive areas. Our progress lasted only into the second game before I became so aroused that I told them that they were going to have to get me out of there or they would have to fuck me right there in the bar. There was a moment of awkwardness,a decision necessary for each of them. I broke the silence,telling them that we had a motel room. I hadn't counted how many of them there were,and I had no intention of doing so. It was clear that I was inviting all of them to come to our motel room to fuck me.

I walked back to the table where my hubby had sat silent for the whole time we were playing pool. He stood,and dutifully helped me into my coat. The young man who had been the boldest in feeling me up took my hand as we walked to the front of the bar and out the door. Once outside,it was evident that there were four men who were going with us. Seriously aroused,I stopped and leaned backward onto the tall young black soldier who had held my hand,telling them all to kiss me and touch me any way they liked.(Michael insisted that I do that in public. I was embarrassed at first,but I got over it and learned to enjoy it)

In the motel room,my hubby took my coat,hung it up,then knelt at the edge of the bed to unzip my boots and take them off. As he moved to the corner to set my boots out of the way,one of the men went for my zipper and started me out of my jeans. I attempted to help him,but felt myself being pulled backward as another of the men pulled my tank top over my head and off before pinning me to the bed,one tit in each of his hands. He kissed me upside down as I felt my jeans,then my panties being pulled off,then a hot mouth and tongue pressing firmly on my pussy,prompting me to a powerful orgasm no sooner than they were starting on me. The sexual energy in the room was palpable,and I knew I would be fucked as only young black men can do it. I thought for a moment about how I had come full circle. It was happening a stone's throw from where I was tutored by Curt and broken in by the crew. I knew I could please them,satisfy all of them and more.

I was aware of my hubby's presence as they took their turns with me. He was as still as if frozen,and I knew he liked what he was seeing. He's always loved watching me being fucked really thoroughly. All of their cocks were big,which wasn't a surprise. Besides the fact that I had felt enough when we were playing pool to know they were seriously hung,it was apparent in the way they behaved,their confidence. The tall one who had been the boldest all along was the biggest. I'm tempted to tell how big I think he is in terms of inches,but I know it would sound like I'm exaggerating. Bow me up big! Understood? I try to remember to look toward my hubby. It's not always easy to do,or even to remember to do when I'm being fucked so good that my vision gets blurry,but I know that I was looking straight at my hubby when the tall one emptied his first load of semen into my belly. The heat and wet feeling made me cum so hard I thought I might faint. It wouldn't have been the first time that happened.

Only one of the two beds got used,and that's also the one we slept in. Hubby has to sleep in the wet spots with me. It's important for me,because it's a confirmation that he knew what he was getting into when he married me. He accepted me the way I am and never tried to change me or control me.
 
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It was a nice fall morning in Washington,a Saturday. Hubby was home. I was always happier when he was there. He helped a lot. I was able to study my lessons with less disturbance,and sometimes he would do the childcare bit,giving me better opportunity to spread my legs for one of the black men who were always ready when we could get our timing right. The night before,it had been one of my favorites then,and ever. Besides being a handsome and charming man I could,and maybe kinda did literally fall in love with,he was hung like a Missouri mule. I was nearing thirty,and he was about ten years older than me. He was taller than average,broad-shouldered and muscular,but not a really big man. He had a perpetual smile that alternated between sincerely sweet and friendly and mischievous and sexy. He was in Bonnie's husband's unit,and had just happened to start a conversation with me one day while I was on post. Had it not been for meeting him and several other black men as a result of his blabbermouth,Bonnie's husband would've been effectively useless. I could never find it in me to tell him,because he had so many undesirable traits,but he really did good for me as a supposedly unknown matchmaker.

Her husband was on post and Bonnie was still in flannel pajamas when we got there. My hubby took her ******* and mine to breakfast,leaving Bonnie and me together for some quality girl-time.

As soon as we were alone,I grabbed her pajama top,pulled her to me and kissed her with every once of passion I could muster,putting my hand down behind the waistband of her pajamas and slipping two of my fingers into her pussy almost in a single motion. Bonnie returned my kiss with equal fervor and pressed her pussy against my hand. I asked if she wanted to cum,and her answer was of course,yes. I continued kissing her and worked her pussy with my fingers for a time before telling her what I had planned to tell her. I was looking directly into her beautiful green eyes,my fingers as deep into her wanting pussy as I could get them when I told her that Tyler wanted to fuck her. Her eyes widened and I felt her tremble. I paused for only a second or two before telling her that he had fucked me the night before,how his cock was so huge that I could barely fit it all inside me. I told her that I knew she could take it,that she could expect to feel overwhelmed and near panic,but to stay calm and let it all inside her. It would feel indescribably fantastic,and it would be the only thing that could ever completely satisfy her cravings. Her pussy gushed and she quivered with orgasm before hugging me tightly and beginning to sob. I felt her tears wetting my shoulder as I held her. I knew we had to be absolutely certain not to get caught. Bonnie wasn't sure at first if I was telling her the truth about Tyler wanting to fuck her,or if I was offering a fantasy for her to help her cum. I was serious. Tyler and I had been talking about it,and we were trying to figure out a way to make it possible without anyone knowing.
 
I'm still sore from the last time,and they want me to come back. Oh yeah! More of the guys who were at the bar wish they had gone to the motel room. Wonderful! That's what I'm talking about! It's what I'm made for,and they can get as many chances with me as I can give them. Looks like we're going to be taking another drive. They're half my age,and much like the guys who broke me in and spoiled me in the first place. Wow!:blackgreedy:
 
I'm being asked for guidance on how to convince a wife to try black sex. It involves a sincere husband who seems very nice. I've never met him or his wife in person. They live quite a long distance from us. I've seen pics of his wife,and based on her looks,she won't have any problem getting laid by whom ever she chooses. She's mid 30's and hot-looking. I'm afraid I haven't been much help to him. If she wants to do it,I'm sure she can,and if she does,I think she'll like it. I was only able to help Bonnie because I knew her well,and there was never any doubt that she wanted it. In addition to that,Army wives have an advantage over most women if they want extramarital sex. I've often though it's an advantage that recruiters could use to get their quotas up in some cases,especially if a white wife wants black cock. It's there like no other place I've been,and many or most of them are always ready and more than willing to get it done for you.

Making a decision to have sex with black men is something that I can't relate to. There was never a thought of making a decision for me. It was understood that my hubby's Army buddies would be a source of sex for me even before we were married,and some of them were black. Another point for me that many people seldom mention is the fact that sex is a need,not an option or a pastime per se. I've used the term "sport fuck" many times myself,but seriously.
 
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I know I said I would share my thoughts here,and I will. If I shared all of my thoughts here,I would be constantly writing,and never get anything else done. I know I repeat myself often too. I apologize. Obviously,I sometimes think the same thoughts repeatedly. I can't be alone in doing that,or? Oh gee. I can't help myself. lol

Some people actually asked for it. My apology is to those who didn't.
 
I'm being asked for guidance on how to convince a wife to try black sex. It involves a sincere husband who seems very nice. I've never met him or his wife in person. They live quite a long distance from us. I've seen pics of his wife,and based on her looks,she won't have any problem getting laid by whom ever she chooses. She's mid 30's and hot-looking. I'm afraid I haven't been much help to him. If she wants to do it,I'm sure she can,and if she does,I think she'll like it. I was only able to help Bonnie because I knew her well,and there was never any doubt that she wanted it. In addition to that,Army wives have an advantage over most women if they want extramarital sex. I've often though it's an advantage that recruiters could use to get their quotas up in some cases,especially if a white wife wants black cock. It's there like no other place I've been,and many or most of them are always ready and more than willing to get it done for you.

Making a decision to have sex with black men is something that I can't relate to. There was never a thought of making a decision for me. It was understood that my hubby's Army buddies would be a source of sex for me even before we were married,and some of them were black. Another point for me that many people seldom mention is the fact that sex is a need,not an option or a pastime per se. I've used the term "sport fuck" many times myself,but seriously.

In reference to the husband that wanted your help in convincing his wife to go black, you mentioned that you haven't been much help to him so does that mean you've given up on them or are you still working on her...?
 
I haven't communicated with her,only him. He knows I'm willing to answer any questions she has if I can.

I got deeply into black sex from such an early age,and in a happen chance way that it's hard for me to imagine myself in her position. It's just very different than anything I know about. I was totally uninhibited when I met my husband. He encouraged me to be myself. That's all it took for me.
 
I'm having a really hard time getting things down like I want in my writing. Some feelings and moods are difficult to put into words,and I'm finding that too often when I read what I've written,it doesn't accurately depict how things really felt as it was happening. I'm really trying,and to those who've offered encouragement,Thank You!

One individual whose personality I'm having difficulty describing is Bonnie's husband. I'll call him Jimmy from here on. He wasn't all bad,all the time. I think he had issues within himself that made it hard for some people,myself included,to see much good in him. I don't think he had a good handle on his emotions. That's probably true with all of us at one time or another,but it was beyond what I would consider normal with Jimmy. He was always interested in what I was doing. I know this because he was constantly asking Bonnie questions about me,in spite of the fact that we barely got along. I wondered sometimes if he was envious of my hubby. He seemed to like some of the same things my hubby likes,but he wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with his own wife being taken by other men,so he concentrated his attention on me. I can't be sure that I'm making the correct analysis,but that's how it seemed to me.
 
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